14225/Breaking News: Cults & Convalescence

Breaking News: Cults & Convalescence
Date of Scene:	25 March 2022
Location:	Metropolis General Hospital
Synopsis:	Superman and Clark Kent visit Lois in the hospital after her abduction.
Cast of Characters:	Superman, Lois Lane

---

Superman has posed:
The nocturnal flight from the cult processing center to Metropolis covers some hundred and fifty miles of back roads and highways by car; Superman, able to bypass the winding curves and geological obstacles, cuts that distance by a third and moves faster than a speeding bullet, besides. Lois Lane is cradled in the hero's arms, awake but woozy, the landscape flickering behind her as she moves at jet speeds -- and when that shining city appears on the horizon, glittering like a sea of stars, she knows help will soon arrive.

It's a few hours later now, and Lois has been well taken care of; she has her own room to recuperate, a nurse drew a blood sample so they can run a toxicology scan on her, and she's been given sleeping medicine in the meantime to help her doze it all off. When she awakens, the sun is creeping up over the horizon, while a quiet machine monitors her vitals. Shafts of sunlight float in through the sliding glass doors leading to the hospital's balcony, only a short distance away from her second-story room, and the Man of Steel himself alights upon the stonework. He'd spent the night touching base with the police and Batman, making sure the cult was handled properly.

Now? Now he's knocking on Lois' door. "Excuse me, Miss Lane? Are you awake?"

He doesn't come in without permission.

Lois Lane has posed:
The stubborn reporter had TRIED to protest being given the sedatives, but no one was listening to a woozy, drugged woman who had been emotionally tortured for the last day or so. It means that she got some proper, deep sleep for the first time in days and truly is only now coming around, feeling far better than she was several hours ago. Which means she's probably going to be demanding to be let out soon. But, likely, someone could convince her to stay. A certain someone at her door.

She swears she recognizes the voice, but she doesn't want to get her hopes up too much. She straightens her shoulders a bit, smoothing her hair back and her hospital gown down so it emphasizes her curves instead of just looking rumpled. It's nearly impossible to look sexy in a hospital gown but, dammit, if that's Superman outside her door? She was going to try! Once she's certain she looks as put together and delicately attractive as she can, she calls to the door, "Uh, yes... Come in?" There is a hopeful smile on her lips and her pale eyes are doing their best to look more alert than she feels. See? She's fine.

Superman has posed:
Superman hears the woman's movements and waits patiently by her door. A passing nurse glances at him and goes wide-eyed, prevented from shrieking her surprise only by a knowing look and a finger held up to his nose. He smiles, though, and does say, in a quieter voice, "Good morning, ma'am. I hope you're having a lovely day. If you'll excuse me..."

The door opens, and in walks the Man of Steel himself, the defender of Earth in all his glory -- there's the majestic red cape, the iconic symbol plastered over his broad chest, the million-dollar smile and the little curl of hair that hangs above his brilliant blue eyes. He's Mr. Celebrity Superhero, all broad-shouldered and handsome, walking with immaculate posture and a presence that beggars kings.

How much a man can change, really, when he dresses well, holds his head high, and loves himself fully rather than hide and retreat in his own uncomfortable skin.

"I'm sure your doctor will be in to see you soon," he rumbles, closing the door behind him. "But I wanted to check in on you before I left Metropolis again. How are you feeling, Miss Lane?"

He's saved her plenty of times, but he's still never taken to calling her Lois. He's always kept things professional... if at times flirtatious.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois is trying desperately to look her best but, in truth, this is probably the most rough he's seen her in a while. Short of nearly bleeding out, this time was rough on her. She was scared, there were a lot of nasty drugs pumped through her, and she's not had a good meal in three days. She looks skinny, ragged around the edges, eyes a little sunken and cheeks not quite their normal glow. But it's her, those glimmering blue eyes and that know-at-all smile. It softens just to see him, something relaxing across her whole body. It was like the world was more right for his presence in it.

"Superman! You... you didn't have to come, you know? I'm fine. I really am. Soon as the doctor comes, I'm sure I'll be out of here, but I'm just fine. Thanks to Batman... and you." She's flushing just a little, which does put a nicer color back in her ragged features. "But it's... it's good to see you. Really good."

Superman has posed:
Superman is quiet as Lois, in standard fashion, runs her mouth a mile a minute and asserts she's doing just fine. "You're always a bit manic when you're anxious, Miss Lane," the blue-and-red superhero remarks, his smile as gentle as his tone -- though there's a bit of a playful edge to it. "Breathe, slowly. In and out." He demonstrates with a slow, measured inhalation, holds it for a moment as his chest rises, and then exhales. "It's okay now, I promise. Samuel Alento has been taken into custody, and the state has opened a criminal investigation into the Sons of the Shepherd."

He gives her a moment to process this tidbit of information: the man who had her abducted, who victimized her, can do so no longer. Her worries about the cult, and her worries about the innocents misled and controlled by it, have brought forth a resolution.

"I read your article on it last week," Superman says after a moment, offering her his hand. "Talking in this room is stuffy. Would you like to speak on the balcony? The breeze is warm and nice. And you do, forgive me for saying, look like you need a bit of sunlight."

If his offer is taken, he'll walk her out of her room, turn left, and open the sliding glass doors he'd entered in. Lois will be able to see much of the hospital grounds and surrounding city from there and watch the sun crest the horizon.

Lois Lane has posed:
He's telling her to breathe and Lois' initial instincts are to be stubborn about it, to insist she doesn't need to breathe. When, of course, she does. And doing it a bit slower would be a wise idea. She forces herself to swallow back those first thoughts and follow the pattern of his breathing, slowly in and slowly out, calming that slightly quicker trip of her heart and of her thoughts. She finally dips her head in gratitude to him, not just about the breathing thing. The news helps too. "I'm... sad it took such drastic action for it to happen, but I'm glad it's done. If it took him going insane and kidnapping me to actually get him off the streets and get those people help? Worth it."

Hell, if one were a far thinking man, it's very possible that Lois wrote the article just to try and see if something like this would happen. She was poking at the beast, trying to make him bite back hard enough that the law would notice. And she succeeded. But that would be quite a long view.

The offer of going outside is a nice one. She blushes a bit more as she realizes she's just in this gown and a pair of clean underwear, no one's brought her a fresh set of clothes yet. But she'll manage it. She sits up, swinging herself carefully out of bed and using his shoulder to head out to the more warm, comfortable open air. That lets her breathe even deeper. "It is... nice out. I hate keeping you but... Thank you for coming."

Superman has posed:
"The passion you put into that article was something to behold," Superman remarks, careful not to stare too long at Lois -- she may be a bit frumpy and in an unflattering outfit, but she's still a very good-looking woman, and one a certain Clark Kent's personal feelings for makes it difficult to ignore. "I've always thought about what it'd be like to go deep undercover like that; I'm not sure I could manage. How do you do it, and not forget yourself, or risk... oh, what's the term, going native?"

He chuckles at that and slides open the door, stepping out onto the calm balcony. This early in the morning, there's no one else out, and the hospital's green grounds and gentle streams are still fresh with dew. The early breeze is indeed warm and soothing to the touch. Superman steps toward the railing, resting his hands upon it and leaning out over the edge.

"If I were a betting man, I'd think you were trying to provoke them," he muses aloud. "Some of the language you used was... colorful." He glances aside to her slyly, but then chuffs, looking back toward the sun. "Silly thought, isn't it? Still -- as ballsy as that was, you helped a lot of people, and your heart was in the right place. I'm proud of what you did, Miss Lane, and you should be, too. It's actually why I came to visit: I had to make sure Metropolis' miracle woman wasn't too badly traumatized by the hot water she'd once again gotten herself into."

Lois Lane has posed:
A smirk pulls across her features as he comments about her going deep undercover. Lois shakes her head quietly, letting her dark hair play in the wind. Under the sunlight, she looks a lot better, her black hair glossy and glimmering. The faint wind pulling at her gown, giving hints of skin neither Clark nor Superman have properly seen before. "No, no. I've been doing this long enough... I like to get into the heads of the people I'm writing about, but not that deep. It's still just a story."

As he teases her about being a betting man, her brows arch a bit more. She looks almost teasingly guilty, blue eyes rolling up towards the sky, "Mm... That would be an awful long game for not always a good amount of pay out. But, if a gal were to do something like that, well... Seems like it worked out, didn't it? And I've been in hot water before. If that's what it takes to draw attention to messes like this? I'll always dive into the boiling pot. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Sorry, if that... makes your life, uh... Complicated." Her smile softens at him, "You don't always have to come running after me. But..." She blushes a bit more, "I like it when you do."

Superman has posed:
"When they ask me what I stand for, in the interviews, my answer has always been Truth, Justice, and the American Way," Superman points out. It's a well-known line, even if it's one journalists popularized disproportionate to how often he said it. "And I think your stories often further those very principles, Miss Lane. I won't say I approve of endangering yourself, and I wish you'd be more considerate of the friends and family you worry -- but I understand it, too, and I respect it. For evil to triumph good women must do nothing; and you, Miss Lane, have never struck me as a woman who will do nothing."

He straightens his back and smiles down at her. His teeth are so white they practically sparkle.

"Lysol is the best disinfectant, but sunlight's a close second," Superman says, laughing to himself at some inside joke he's made, and then he reaches a hand out to clasp Lois' shoulder. The wind, and all the teasing glimpses of skin it offers, are studiously ignored -- after an unavoidable glance that conveyed his interest to her clear enough. "I'll always be there to save you," he promises, and for a moment his smile is somehow less perfect, less rehearsed -- the left side of his mouth quirks a bit higher, its lopsided lift dimpling his cheek. "But I do have to go for now. Oh, I called the Daily Planet last night, since you'd missed a few days of work -- a friend of yours volunteered to bring you some clean clothes after breakfast."

He lifts two fingers to his forehead and mock salutes, floating into the air.

"The scrambled eggs Mrs. Hornfest makes are delicious, by the way," he confides. She's one of the cafeteria workers today, and Superman's met her plenty of times. Then, as ever, he's up, up and away. Their meetings are always so brief.

--

Coincidentally, after breakfast, Lois will be back in her room... and *another* knock will come on the door of the room next to hers.

"Um, Lois?" Comes a familiar pinched, nasally voice. "Hello? Lois?"

No one's in the other room.

Lois Lane has posed:
As Superman indicates he has to leave, there is a cross of disappointment to Lois' features. "Of course, Superman. I...I'm just glad to have a few minutes of your time. Any night you have free, come to visit. I'll make room for you any time." Is that her version of asking him out on a date? Very possibly. In a round about way. But then he's taking off into the sky and she's left alone to stumble through the morning in a hospital.

It's not until after breakfast, when she's REALLY getting antsy and desperate for escape, that her other savior happens. She blinks, hearing that voice muffled through the wall. Surely it wasn't for her. But then he repeats himself and that is definitely her name. "...Clark?" Lois calls louder than he was, so hopefully her voice can be heard through the walls.

Superman has posed:
There's another knock on the wrong door, and another round of Clark calling out, "Lois? Lois, I brought your clothes! I - I got a shirt, and some sweatpants, and I... well, I had to bring your *unmentionables*, but, uh, I promise, I closed my eyes when I went through your drawers. I don't even know if they match."

He waits, patient but anxious, for some response, and then he hears her voice rise up to answer him -- from the next room over. He purses his lips, pushes them out, and then sucks them back into his mouth, face puckering up in mild embarrassment before he separates them with a popping sound. He makes a 'cool guy' turn, rolling on his heel and swaggering off to the side, fake whistling as if he'd never made a mistake. Step, step, and then he's knocking on the proper door. "I'm coming in!"

The door opens, and poof: behold Clark Kent, looking haggard and unshowered, having thrown on some too-strong cologne. It drowns out any actual smell of body odor, but makes him smell like a pine tree instead. He has a bag of fresh clothes slung over his shoulder.

"Wow, you, uh, you look like crap," he just blurts out. "But maybe kidnapped-chic is hot now?"

Sometimes, Kansas is a real smart ass. It's his way to break the ice.

Lois Lane has posed:
"So, you announce to half the hallway that you went through my unmentionables drawer and then you tell me I look like crap? Good morning to you too, Kansas. Good to see you. Glad you're alive! All those things you SHOULD be saying to your best friend who just survived being KIDNAPPED and DRUGGED to high hell, but, instead, you're screaming about my unmentionables!" Now Lois is just trying to make him blush, getting her revenge by making him think about it even more. She grins, one brow arching pointedly at him. "Did you see the red lacy ones? Or touch them, at least? They're really soft. Come on, you had to bring me the soft comfortable ones. Or maybe the black french cut? Do you know what french cut is?" Lois grins even more.

In truth, she's in a better mood now that he's here. She can't bring herself to hug Superman, he's too 'above her'. But Clark Kent? She wants to hug someone, and he is very huggable. He also brought her clothes. She slips out of bed, wrapping herself tight around his neck for a close squeeze. "...missed you. Even if you dug through my undies."

Superman has posed:
Clark's face becomes more saturated with color the longer Lois' teasing lecture goes on. At the end of it, he has his eyes squeezed shut and his whole face scrunched like he'd taken a cookie without permission and been scolded by his mother. "I'm sorry, Lois! I know women are very mindful of their space, so I sprayed a whole bunch of Lysol after. Ma always said it was the best disinfectant."

Martha Kent will swear by the household-healing properties of Lysol. God put it on this Earth to make our lives easier.

"I did see the red ones," he admits, cracking one eye open. "They're, um, in there. And I grabbed the red underwear, too. I figured you'd want something comfortable, and they looked soft, so..." He unslings the bag and hands it over to Lois with both those big arms stuck straight out. "And Lois, of course I know what a French cut is, but all your tags said made in Taiwan."

He brought her sweatpants, a big t-shirt, and matching red lingerie, as well as a hairbrush and a stick of deodorant. And when she puts the bag down and comes in for a hug, for a moment he seems startled, but then he wraps her in his embrace.

"Shucks, Lois, I missed you too. I sure am glad you're alright!"

Lois Lane has posed:
"Oh my god, Clark Kent, if I wasn't so damn happy to see you I would STRANGLE you. You *Lysoled* my underwear?! It's not 1956, we don't DO that any more!" Lois grunts, though that implies that women did do that back in the day, which is a terrifying, if true, thought. She still holds onto that hug for a few long heartbeats. He felt like home and smelled like home. Warm. Solid. Always there for her. Not the stunningly handsome, striking figure that Superman was, but he's Clark. Sometimes Clark is enough.

Eventually, though, she does let go. She gives him a softer, still exhausted smile, and one last squeeze of his shoulders before she starts going to that bag. She doesn't even warn him, she just starts shimmying into her clothing, letting the hospital gown fall open so she can get into it faster. She needs this gown OFF her body and in her own things. "I'm fine. You might have to break me out of here, something about observation, but I'm fine. I just want to forget it ever happened. After I finish the story, that is."

Superman has posed:
Clark might be the boy next door type, but he's clearly no adept househusband or homemaker; at Lois' insistence that one does not apply Lysol to everything with a religious fervor, his eyes widen. "Uh, but, you hadn't cleaned in a few days, and everything was musty, and I opened the windows, too, but it didn't help much because there was food left out, so I did a little bit of cleaning but there was no time, we only heard you were back last night, so I sprayed and prayed and God help me I made it here."

It was an ordeal, let me tell you. An ordeal that ever-reliable Clark Kent overcame with aplomb -- it's not hard to imagine him, creeping like some sordid hunchback, a bright yellow can of Lysol in one hand and a mop in the other.

"Anyway, it's all very fresh now, it smells like spring, because I used a spring-scented can, and -- oh my gosh, Lois, I'm right here!" His hands smack to his face and he covers himself, though he peeks for one treacherous moment through the gaps between his fingers. There's a rush of emotion as her gown opens and she begins to change, before he turns about-face and marches, numb and military, toward the door. He opens it a crack, makes sure the coast is clear, and promptly removes himself from the room.

"Just, uh, just tell me when you're done," he says.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Oh my god, Clark, we're both adults. Surely you've seen boobs before!" Lois huffs out, even if she might have done it on purpose, either to flirt or rile him up. She smiles at him as she finishes pulling into the sweater he's brought her and then shimmies into her jeans. She calls to the door a moment after he's outside of it, "I'm covered, Kansas! It's safe, I promise! I won't bite."

And then she's tossing that gown onto the hospital bed, so happy to get the last remanants of her experience off of her body. She's so happy to just be back in her own clothes and now she's pulling a brush through her messy, dark hair that is desperately in need of a real shower, but she already looks far more like herself. "Look, you gotta come back in here because I need you to sign me out of here. They won't let me leave on my own. Come on. One more favor and I'll forget the underwear drawer." She pouts at him, even if it's going against doctor's orders, they are clearly overworried. She's fine on her own two feet and not even wavering now.

Superman has posed:
Clark Kent is not a virgin, and he grew up with access to the internet: he has absolutely seen boobs before. But it is one thing to see breasts in the abstract and another to see your flirtatious coworker deliberately tease you, knowing as she does that you're a good country boy and wouldn't take advantage of her. And so it is that he presses against the door as if guarding it, eyes still squeezed shut -- because if he opened them, he might lose the image burned into the back of his eyelids.

When it's safe, he opens and slips back in, offering a nervous, lopsided smile to Lois. "I - what? Lois, if the doctors want you to stay, maybe you... should... " He wilts under her withering look and slumps forward. "Okay. I'll go sign you out, Lois. You should stay, though... I could smell the eggs when I walked by the cafeteria, they looked delicious. Think if I fell down the stairs they'd give me some?"

Lois Lane has posed:
"No falling down the stairs, Kent! You're breaking me outta here, then I'll take you for the best brunch in the city. Anywhere you want. Just get me free!" Lois begs him, giving her best pout yet. The one she knows he can't resist. She then shoos him back out of the room and leans over, so she can more slowly get her shoes on without any of that dizziness hitting her. She couldn't show weakness, or they wouldn't let her out of here. But she was getting out, hell or high water. And probably on Kent's arm. It just meant she really needed to figure out a good place for brunch. They had to celebrate her freedom, and her next story!