thisisontherecord

Luthor doesn't know about it.

[Not what she asked, maybe she's already assumed otherwise from the fact that he's not more frantic, but Clark finds it worth confirming.]

Batman — the younger one, and it is Bruce Wayne by the way, you were right — called me out to let me know. Someone who's not here anymore left it to him. It may have even been here before we were.

[Maybe he should have asked, but he hadn't cared then and doesn't really know. Interrogating past events is far less important to him than what happens next.]

( Namedropping Luthor to say he's not in the know means the furrows of her brow don't deepen, but it's not until he's saying who (called it, with Bruce, and how the hell is that looking back home) and why.

Etraya is quite the cluster for such a small population and place. Especially post hallucination fog, if she thinks harder about it.

Lois's fingers twitch, brain in overdrive. She starts pacing, not a frenzied movement, but thinking. Right now she doesn't need to be in lock down mode, she needs to be processing. )

Most likely it was. That's the impression I had from Aurora anyway, that me asking about it wasn't the first blush mention of it being around. Resources from home we're all allowed. Wonder how much uranium or plutonium she'd let me get away with scattering around for fun. If it doesn't kill us right away, is it really toxic?

( There's an acerbic edge to her tone, but she keeps her voice from rising, too aware of Jon in his own room. )

I'd take a moment to go hah about being right, but I'm more concerned about whatever he plans to do now that he's told you this. Now. Months and months after we arrived. This is an inherited legacy of death and torture at this point, how insane is that?

( She says, pivoting to look directly at Clark. It's the fear that'd been in the back of her mind waltzing to the front as a confirmation, and Bruce, Batman, does not have her good faith in any of this. It's too easy for people who believe they stand for justice to slide down the same slippery slope as people like Luthor and those who worked directly for him did.

They're right. Don't costs of pursuing that good intention tend to start getting rationalized? )

Why did he tell you?

[Clark stands still where he is, rock steady, watching her pace. A part of him wants to touch her arm, try to ground her and slow down the mile-a-minute consideration of everything that's happened and everything that might happen that he can see on her face, hear in her voice.

The rest of him knows better. This is how she processes. Trying to stop it wouldn't be welcomed and it wouldn't help.

At least he has an answer for her question when one finally comes.]

He said it was because he's trying not to be like the other Bruce.

[Which implies some really interesting things about the other Bruce. What's that like, to have a version of yourself as an extremely personal cautionary tale? It's tough to imagine. Maybe Clark will understand one day if Jon's birth dad ever turns up.]

He didn't intend it to be a threat. Which means very little when it comes to kryptonite, and trust me when I say I made that very clear.

[Its very presence will always be a threat, no matter the intentions of whoever wields it. That's just how kryptonite is. It gets in our blood so it feels like we're dying from the inside out.]

...it was also because of Jon. I don't know the details, but something bad happened to one of the Robins he considers his sons. He said he didn't want me to go through anything similar.

( In a shifted frame of mind, she might reflect that she appreciates how he can be rock steady like this, just like she can in different circumstances. Both of them are physically expressive people, controlled to different degrees out of necessity. Lacking a pen, Lois is a little more large movement inclined at the moment.

She does pause at the answer, slowly lifting her brows. It's a question she doesn't voice, and a supposition she doesn't think Clark needs her to make: the older Bruce, the other Bruce, the one that engaged as the himbo on network that one time, and who she's fairly sure has to be the suited man she forced a water bottle and an energy bar on when sitting on the roof of a building that was more wrong than it'd ever been right.

Not that she finds it as strange to have cautionary tales in alternate lives. She wonders what the younger Lois she'd seen on network posts was like; clearly implications were she knew Clark younger, and they were entangled in a way enough to make Lois... well, she can tell. It was romantic. Yet the Clark who'd been here before, he'd been different yet again. Permutation after permutation. Everyone's story is different to whatever degree.

Her eyes close for a moment, then open as she moves again and comes to stand in front of Clark. )

Glad to hear you made it clear. Pretty sure he'd be running away before he'd let me reiterate that all over again.

( No illusions there: it's been blatant how much the larger collective of bat-related Gothamites are giving her a berth, particularly in a small population, in a small area. She takes it as a compliment. Clark is too kind: Lois is too sharp. It's a fine balance in her opinion. )

So it took him this long to decide it's not just his kids who don't deserve to suffer. How damn scared are all these people of you? ( She knows why. Lois believes so inherently in Clark's goodness and restraint that it's not a question, has never been a question, of that slipping without external forces. But: ) Not to find any solution to their fears beyond "kill him first?" Here, where Aurora's directive won't even let any one of us stay dead.

( She hates that too. It's the worst safety net, and one she knows gives them leave to be idiotic in ways they can't be back home, ways that Accelerator can... already highlight, but it also means all these threats, all these concerns, are rendered pointless in the most stark and horrible way. Death can't hold the right weight here. It's just another medical condition, and they can rebuild you, good as if it hadn't happened. Without anything but the one therapist around, or maybe the two? That's fucked up.

Lois reaches for Clark's hands, wrapping her smaller ones around his larger palms. Yeah, yeah, strongest man in their world, and also contestably not likely to stay that way, if even his clone surpassed him. It's simply life. Competition means changing who sits at the top because the drive never ends.

She wonders if Bruce Wayne, no matter the version, understands that as well. Or if he believes there can ever be an absolute answer. )

[Clark has to smile at that, just a little. Because yeah, it's absolutely true, and he doesn't think he's viewing her through biased eyes. Lois Lane is a forced to be reckoned with. Powers or no powers, secret identity or life as a completely normal man, he can't imagine ever wanting to go up against her, and he can easily imagine any Batman fleeing her wrath. Not for the first time, he thinks of how lucky he is to have her on her side.

The smile doesn't last long, though, because as always, Lois pushes him to consider other perspectives. He doesn't think he's wrong — doesn't think Bruce was being insincere about wanting their family to avoid a tragic loss, however temporary it might be, as if death can ever truly be inconsequential. And he doesn't think the connection they made over being fathers to and loving sons that aren't truly theirs was fake. He doesn't think it's as simple as Lois makes it sound.

But he doesn't know, not for sure. And even if he did, emotions and intentions don't mean everything. Actions do, too; more, sometimes. He should know that as well as anyone.]

Sometimes I wonder what might have happened to make them that way. What could still happen to make them that way.

[Not just the Bruces. Luthor, too; his people, the government. He lets her take his hands, doesn't try to invert the touch and take hers instead. Lois' hands are so much smaller, but he feels protected like this. It's silly. It's nice.]

I get the logic of it. Intellectually, I understand. [He's powerful. He's only ever tried to use that power for good. Not everyone can or will trust in that.] Just...I guess I'm not really capable of really seeing it from their perspective. Not completely.

Edited (spotted a typo lol) 2026-01-16 01:29 (UTC)

( Lois doesn't believe any specific thing she's said can be assigned as motivation to either Bruce Wayne; they're considerations of questions to ask, not truths. What's true is what actions either man has taken, and what statements either man has made.

They both know what it's like to check sources, and how you can't run a whole story on one alone when it requires a factual understanding, not an emotional response. How someone feels about seeing Superman fly a bus of cancer patients to national monuments is different from tracking down the reason why several timeshare communities in the Appalachians appear to have more money than their taxes say they can get away with.

To that extent, she'll lower her shoulders, tugging his hands to her hips. Closer, but still thinking. )

I understand it from the perspective of someone who has trouble trusting there's any chance someone as genuine as you can exist. Power's... tempting. Always has been. And I can't claim to be an unbiased observer, if I ever was one.

( She frowns a little at that, then shoots him a mildly amused look. She was back when Superman first showed up. Metahumans had all sorts of claims they could make over the years, but Superman? He'd kept showing up exactly as he stated he would. So did Clark, just in a different, more personally annoying way.

But yes, she can understand the fear of what feels like an unstoppable force. Moreso knowing now from Clark just how much control he exercises to exist in a world that can't withstand him at unthought strength. She understands thinking in worse case scenarios.

But she believes in justice. Murder is not justice. Kryptonite is not a just way to prepare for a possible worst case scenario. Might as well install a kill switch in every person here. Their whole bodies can be regrown, so what's the comparable difference? Couldn't that be voluntary too? Then at least it's immediate euthanasia.

Lois doesn't let those thoughts linger, but it brings her back around to focused and mad. Not escalating, which is more beneficial for everyone, including Jon sleeping a room away. )

Unless they're telling you, we can't know. All we can do right now is listen to what the younger Bruce Wayne said, and then if I had my way, eradicate the kryptonite. We were literally kidnapped to different worlds and not one of the rest of them has even talked to anyone about magical restraints or suppression? Or even ask Aurora? You can't tell me there wouldn't be upgrades to the companion bots if someone of your and Jon's and Hernan's strength went wild around them all the time. Too much of a productivity drop if they don't find workarounds.

( Lois Lane, casually bringing up new nightmare scenarios, but at least less radiation based ones. )

[Clark doesn't care if the Bruces don't currently know what they'd be walking into, going up against Lois Lane; they'd learn, and whatever else they are, they're not stupid men, so they would learn quickly. Fleeing her is an extremely plausible outcome.

But that's neither here nor there. He lets her move his hands, lets them come to rest lightly on her hips. This is not a hugging for comfort scenario, at least not yet, but it does help him to have that point of contact. Clark had been the one standing steady while Lois paced, but that doesn't change that she is his rock.]

I'm sorry I ruined your journalistic objectivity.

[Not really. Well, maybe a little, but he considers it a worthwhile trade for what they'd gained when he told her the truth about who Superman really was.

What she says next wipes away his faint smile. If I had my way... Well, that does answer one question he hasn't asked yet, maybe. It's different in the hypothetical than in reality. Lois is right about all her other points, she so often is, but even Clark is wavering, on the fence.

It's one thing to know that he is vulnerable to things like magic, and to be pretty sure that Illyana could use it to shut him down. Maybe Sophie could, too, with her telepathy. It's another thing to be dead certain that kryptonite can stop him if it's necessary, and kryptonite is here. He wishes it wasn't, wishes this wasn't a choice that must now be made. But in the event that he's compromised, he's also the weapon — so he doesn't get to be the one that decides how he's neutralized.]

Lois...Bruce also offered to get rid of the kryptonite.

[How, he doesn't know. Destroying kryptonite so utterly so that even its remnants are no longer a danger is not something he knows how to do.]

Or to hold onto it as a failsafe.

I told him to ask you.

( His apology that cannot be sincere in full earnestness earns a sort of scoff from Lois, but a fond one. It even gets half a smile out of her, though it doesn't last, Lois raking fingers through the hair at her temple and considering what one of the Bruces had offered.

Along with: )

Think he will?

( Get rid of it. Hold on to it. Or most relevantly, talk to her at all. Lois Lane doesn't believe in holding a kill switch out of fear, particularly since that's as absurd as asking for one to exist for Accelerator in her mind: one person she suspects could go toe to toe with Clark, even if she hasn't said as much. Similarly with some of their magical community, for what they can do that Clark can't counteract simply because of his unique physiology or mastery of his particular gifts. )

[If he hadn't ruined her journalistic objectivity, they wouldn't be here now — or worse, they'd both be here, but not as a couple and she'd only recently have learned the truth — so no, he can't be truly sincere.]

I think there's an excellent chance you'll need to be the one to reach out to him first.

[He'd known that on some level even as he'd told Bruce to do it and talked like it was a given he would. Still, it was only right not to assume he'd always be avoidant.]

And I think...he thought he would, when he made the offer. Actually doing it, well. We'd have to see. Not that I know how to do it. Even if you ground it down to dust, there's no safe amount of kryptonite.

[So what would be the answer? Ask Aurora for a way to launch it into the cosmos, beyond the bubble city?]

I know we've got magic as an option now. Other things too, maybe. But if we wanted to be really sure —

[Maybe he could shrug off magic, eventually. Maybe his force of will could overcome telepathy even with him in an altered state. He still wouldn't be able to beat kryptonite.]

I told him that you could talk about it with him, and whatever the two of you decide, I'm fine with it, because I trust you. And I told him if you decide to keep it around, to do something with it — I don't need to know what that is.

( Adding it to her mental to do list. Deciding if it's a "do" before or after teh next mission is part of that, but again, what can she say? How much they need to handle the fallout of... everything, again and again, when it can fundamentally alter how they interact with the world.

She gets the fear. She doesn't believe in letting that fear rule, on the other hand. That's a slippery slope that historically has never ended well. )

You can't, either way, for it to be effective.

( She says this with a tired certainty, hand dropping away from her temple and back to his hands. Her current plan is "outside of here or destroyed via request," but who knows. It's something to discuss because there are things and things to think about. )

Or else what you know is something whatever might influence you could know, including something as simple as your self-contained, influenced thoughts. Really sure means you lack the ability to counter what's coming. Clark, when we keep going that way, everyone here ends up some level of dangerous.

( Here it's... another thought. Because as she asks this, it's... hard. )

Clark. Would you be able to live with yourself knowing you'd been manipulated into killing someone when it wasn't a last resort? Could you work through that?

[It's that simple, and it's not. He gets what Lois means, gets that there are plenty of dangerous people here who don't — as far as he knows — have kill switches floating around in case they break bad.

But he also knows how powerful he can be, knows what he can do in a way that Lois can't quite. She knows what he's capable of intellectually; he knows down to his bones.

It doesn't really matter, though, because her next question catches him completely off-guard and he instinctively winces. Which may be enough of an answer in itself.]

I don't know.

[His fingers curl around her hands. He just — he needs to hold on to her for a minute.]

Probably not.

Mm.

( His fingers around her hands tells her more than she'd ever have wanted to ask. The memories of how black veins had crawled up his neck and across his hands, how he hadn't been strong enough to stand without help, how he'd passed out in the T-flyer or whatever Mr. Terrific called his flying ship. Knows that the quickest answer for how to stop Clark from struggling under the weight of his own worst nightmares is to drive him back to that place, and hope it stops short of killing him — or it kills him fast enough he won't suffer in agony.

But even so, her first affirmation is knowing having the tool doesn't mean needing to use the tool. She grew up with locked gun cabinets and ammunition stored elsewhere. No military brat is unaware of the difference between possession (safe, locked down, calculated) and intention (the loaded gun in hand, the moment when the safety's off and you will use it — no question).

She also knows how much she hates unmitigated violence, or the assumption that violence is a necessity. Violence is not inherently just. It's not the system they should rely on; it's what people should be protected from. Also ironic, because part of what makes Superman so Super is his highly controlled, extremely mitigated violence, applied to protect and defend when words are failing, or beings simply cannot be reasoned with.

But he's not a killer. It's not in him. Lois loves that. Sure, part of it can be frustrating, because his desire to save all lives is literally an impossibility and can lead to harm, but he's never been wrong that all life is inherently worth protecting. )

Got it.

( The softening at the corners of her eyes, the small way her lips relax from the line she'd been pressing them into, is a different decision in the process of working itself out. She'll arrive at that crossroads soon enough, but Clark. Clark isn't going to be okay if he ends up being made into a killer. She's not equipped to help him handle the PTSD to follow, even if she isn't sure any of them can handle any of the PTSD any of them are probably picking up in this place. How is Jon doing with it?

... Not great, she guesses, and his one saving grace might be his age. Ten year olds are more elastic than adults in certain ways. Right? Aren't they? Can she find any child psychology books to help give her an idea, because Crane is not who she'll trust on that. )

I feel like this is an eat all the ice cream out of the freezer kind of night. What do you think?

[For all that she's an amazing writer, Lois can also be a woman of few words at times. Maybe it's because she's an amazing writer, only choosing the right words, and there just aren't any right now. Not in this place, where minds and values can be warped far too easily.

Clark can still tell there's a lot more she's thinking about than she's saying, and that's fine, that's okay. He trusts her with the kryptonite and he trusts her to say what needs saying. And maybe it's a little easier not to hear more, when he's already on the edge of agonizing over every terrible possibility.

He's really, really lucky to have her. Lucky she knows him well enough to know the difference between what he needs to hear and what he has to hear.]

Eating all the ice cream sounds fantastic.

[And they have plenty, considering the ten-year-old with the appetite of a Kryptonian adult sleeping soundly in the other room. He breaths out a soft laugh and squeezes her hands briefly, letting his shoulders relax and leaning in. Just being closer helps. She doesn't have to actually embrace him for Clark to feel held.]

Thank you.

( With a squeeze of his hands in turn, Lois offers the simple and important follow up of: )

I call first dibs on the Rocky Road.

( They'll deal with everything as it comes along and comes up. With Kryptonite, with having stop-gaps and fail-safes, and with the knowledge that the most likely reason they'll have either is because the next social experiment will be attacking their sense of identity in a way different than the alternate Earth's anomaly, or the space nebula particles.

This is a different discussion they'll need to have sometime, but given it's more naval gazing and about creating a reaction plan than anything helpful, Lois opts to hold off on it for now.

Though she will start to steer them both toward the freezer. No time like the present, if they're going to do some good old fashioned eat when your feelings are having a helluva day (and also because Krpytonite. Just. Kryptonite.). )

Deal.

[Clark does like Rocky Road himself, but they have other options he likes just as much. With Kryptonian appetites and a ten-year-old's sweet tooth, it's been necessary to buy extra. He snags a container of Strawberry Crunch before veering off to fetch some bowls and spoons for them.]

Be nice if all our problems could be solved with ice cream, huh?

( Lois is prying that lid off and it is refusing to comply by the time Clark's presenting bowls and spoons. She manages not to give a triumphant, "Hah!" when the lid does peel back and display this is a whole new quart of Rocky Road, pristine top about to be wrecked by two spoon wielding adults. )

Sure would make the dairy industry the most powerful force in the world. Plus whichever pharmaceutical giants make the generic lactose intolerance pills.

( Sliding one bowl over and stabbing into the ice cream with the spoon... and it cuts in smooth as butter. Lois smiles, mischievous, before she starts with a generous scoop into the bowl. )

Between you and Jon, we'd probably get endless sponsorship offers.

[He'd offer to help, but Clark is pretty sure that she'd prefer to defeat the stubborn ice cream lid on her own. And she does, so all's well. Aside from the kryptonite.]

I don't think it would be a good idea for Superman and Superboy to get caught up in corporate sponsorships. Maybe if the money went to charity or something.

[He starts scooping his own ice cream and yeah, it's just as generous. This is an ice cream gluttony kind of evening.]

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