Thursday, May 10th, 2017. 5:50 PM.
• • •

I stood at my door, wiping my face. I needed to compose myself before I entered the apartment. Today had taken a massive left turn once another video of Clark helping people in need popped up in my inbox. Perry didn't yell or chastise me for taking on more then I could handle, but gave it to someone else instead. I myself wasn't even sure what caused me to be so upset today, even when I woke up this morning, my world felt shifted.

Ben has even noticed it, said I looked distracted. And I was, but I couldn't say by what. He said in the hour we had together this morning before I left for work I was short with him. I don't remember acting any different, but he wasn't the only one who noticed my demeanor, almost everyone in the office had. I could hear their whispers behind my back.

I sighed and slid my key into the door, unlocking it with ease, I stepped inside. There was a slight breeze and I remembered I had opened the balcony doors this morning. The smell of rain, heavy and wet greeted me; it had started raining as I took the stairs to my apartment.

Lugging my tote onto the small stool under the coat rack, I placed my rain jacket on the hook and discarded my keys in the porcelain bowl that had Bobby pins and pens in it. My heels couldn't get off my feet fast enough and slip into my house shoes. I padded down the hall rounding the corner to find Ben at the island, typing away at his computer.

"You should have shut the doors," my hands braced the soaked handles of the balcony doors as I slammed them shut, sliding the curtains closed. I could hear Ben behind me, that must've gotten his attention.

"Hey, babe. How was work?" His bright blue eyes locked with mine.

"It's raining."

He glanced out the window and then back at my face, "Shit. Did I forget the doors again? I was so into my coding,"

He was apologizing, but I was still mad-and it wasn't about this. I sighed and sat on a stool my body slumping onto the cold marble counter. Ben's warm hand rubbed my arm.

"I've had a bad day." I mumbled into the stone.

"Want to tell me about it?" His laptop closed and knew when I looked up I would have his complete undivided attention, but I wasn't sure I wanted to speak to him about this. Once that thought shot into mind I grimaced, and knew he was the one I needed to talk to. We are in a relationship. I can't keep things from him. Sitting up, I propped my elbows on the counter, resting my chin in my palms.

"Perry has me watching video's of Superman's rescues and writing articles about them. The goal of these articles is to compare the world when he was here to what is happening now that he's not,"

I pause to see if this might be upsetting him, but Ben just nods slightly, waiting for me to continue. Willing to listen to me speak about a past lover.

"Maybe it's the interview next week or these video's, but I- something shifted in me today and I can't explain it. I almost feel different...I really can't tell you why. I ended up crying today."

Ben squints slightly, his lips tight, "Why did you cry?"

"I don't know. I was just typing away and then I was sobbing at my desk staring at a photo of Superman and me and-,"

"I thought you took that photo off your desk?"

I blinked at him. Ah, there it was. The jealousy. His face was calm but his shoulders were raised slightly and I saw his jaw clench and unclench as he waited for my answer.

"I did. I put it my bottom drawer. It calmed me a bit- which I know is weird. Perry took me off the articles and I didn't feel any better."

A silence snuck between us and the rain was heavy against the windows as we stared at each other. I, waiting for his response and he was figuring out what to say.

"How long have we been dating?" He asked.

I think back, "Six months."

"How long were you with him?"

"Barely three months, but I knew him for years."

"I think our relationship is starting to be real to you,-"

"Ben, How could you say that? I know this is real."

"I'm not judging you, Annie. This is just what I think. You can't forget him, nobody will let you. This isn't like other relationships where a spouse or lover dies and you can move on and have the memory of them always with you."

I watched Ben as he spoke and I wondered how long he's been waiting to say this. He was confident in his words.

"With us, he's everywhere. In your work, on the news, in every child or person we pass on the street. He isn't going anywhere and I think you want him to, not to disappear but to be a distant memory and not something that's this consistent in your life."

I blinked back tears suddenly realizing that he was right. I had such a hard time getting past the trauma of his death and moving on because I could never truly move on. He was everywhere. I choked back a sob and Ben quickly moved over to me, taking me in his arms.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to think about him all the time. It isn't fair to you. I don't want you to be second to him. It isn't fair."

He held me tightly to his chest, his chin resting on top of my head, a thumb rubbing a small circle into the skin on my shoulder. I wiped my eyes and looked up at him.

"I can never be first to Superman and I'll never try to."

"But-,"

He shakes his head, "Annie. I knew what I was getting into when I said that stupid joke at the group."

I laughed remembering how he sauntered up to me and told a joke about sharks and strokes. It was the first time I had really laughed in awhile.

"That was a pretty funny joke." I wiped my mascara and smiled, "If any of this is too much just tell me."

He nods, leaning to kiss me softly on the lips, "Spaghetti?"

Ben broke away from me and began to prep the stove for our dinner. As he gathered the supplies I walked into my room keeping the door open. I pushed our conversation to the back of my mind, I didn't want to think about Clark too much but as I took off my work clothes and hung them up, another moment from today dawned on me. I told him I had something else weird to tell him.

Quickly, I pulled in a pair of grey sweat pants and a loose, soft t-shirt, discarding my bra in the hamper before slipping my feet into my slippers and rejoining him in the kitchen. The noodles cooked on the stove while he chopped up onions, sausage, peppers and prepped another pan for the sauce. Next to him was an open beer sitting half full.

Underneath his dark blue polo his back muscles moved and my eyes trailed to his worn brown belt, charcoal chinos adorned his lower half hugging his behind nicely. I watched him with a lip between my teeth. He must've felt my gaze because he spoke up.

"I can feel you undressing me with your eyes, Annie," his voice was teasing and light.

"Me? I'd never do such a thing." I mocked.

"If these bubbles wouldn't burn my chest I'd probably be standing here naked, if you had your way,"

"I'd give you an apron,"

Ben stopped what he was doing and turned his full body to me, his brow raised, "If I wasn't cooking dinner, you'd be on that island,"

"Don't you wish you didn't always offer to cook my dinner?" I stared at him and dragged my eyes down and up his body knowing he saw.

"Don't temp me," Ben growled before turning back to the stove.

I smiled to myself, happy our conversation hadn't ruined our banter or made things like this awkward. It was only a few steps to the fridge, the cool air greeted me and I looked around for a beer.

"Middle shelf,"

I froze at the sound of his voice, my fingers barely wrapping around the cold neck of the beer before I looked up into impossibly shining blue eyes. Wide eyed I took in his cheekbones, strong jaw, lush lips and black rimmed glasses. Clark stood before me smiling his lips moved, but it wasn't his voice that came out. Suddenly, I was looking at a concerned Ben.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, uh, just lost my train of thought." I quickly composed myself and hurried back to my seat, cracking the top of the beer I took a long swig. What was wrong with me? Never have I replaced Ben with Clark...I ignored the surreal moment and drank my beer. He wasn't going to win today, he just wasn't.

• • •
Thursday, May 10th, 2017. 11:52 PM.
• • •

He won. An hour ago, my eyes popped open and I pulled my body from Ben's embrace, grabbed my laptop and quietly ventured into the living room. The rain was still hitting the window, but had lessened a lot from the storm it had turned into hours ago when Ben and I were in bed.

The text from Bruce had been nagging at me and the woman I had met today, Ingrid Clary. It was convenient the day after I ask if the influx of alien sightings were because Clark was no longer here, a woman shows up asking to see Lois, but really needed to see me. Bruce still has not responded to any of my several texts so I pulled up Google and typed in a name.

Ingrid Clary.

A dozen articles tracing back to high school showed up, she was in gymnastics until the ninth grade, a straight A student and was a year older then me. I scrolled down looking for anything interesting and stopped at an article about a storm that terrorized her home town, Amnesty Bay, Maine four months before Clark's death. The article wasn't what caught my attention, but the few photos they had did.

The first one showed damage to the pier, a turned over boat with a large rip in the hull almost as if it crashed against rocks was on the beach. Below was a video of the report. I lowered my volume and pressed play, listening intently only to pause it at the crowd. Ingrid's face stood out, her brown hair whipping around in the wind, eyes slightly worried behind glasses, I noticed her say something and look up to her right, my eyes followed and settled on a very tall man. His skin was tan and his hair was long, dark tattoos were etched into his neck. The man said something to her and I noticed how bright his eyes were. Gold and alert he frowned, taking Ingrid's hand to pull her away. She glances back and for the briefest moment her eyes change.

"What the?" I pause the video and scroll slowly to see if I was just imagining it, but just when I thought I saw it, it happened again. I could barely make out the color except the black that filled the whites of her eyes. Scrambling for a notebook I rushed back to write down a description of the man she was with and questions to ask.

Interest entirely peaked, I scrolled down. The next photos weren't anything special so I scrolled back up to the man. There was something about him that was familiar. Taking a chance, I went into my emails going as far back as five months after Clark's death to find one from Bruce I hadn't opened. It was started and flagged as important.

Labeled "He wasn't the only one". My cursor hovered over the email before I clicked. Inside we're four sigils with four links beneath each one. Glancing over my shoulder to see if Ben was still asleep, I could hear his faint snoring. The first video wasn't a video but an old photo from War World One, it looked like a group of military mean and a woman who was definitely not dressing for the right age. Her armor was distinct and her sword and shield were held tightly as she looked ahead. Below that was footage of the same woman at an ATM in Paris in 2016. I gasped. How could she still be alive. There were other articles labeling a woman heroine as Wonder Woman. With quick swipes to my page I scribbled her name down and moved onto the next.

I wasn't expecting the horror or the screams of a man on a slab in a lab, with no limbs and an older man frantically trying to calm him down after activating what he called a mother box. Limbs of almost mechanical look began to grow new from the damaged body. The power went out and I scribbled down a name STAR Labs, recognizing the older man as a scientist Silas Stone.

The second to last video was of a young man stopping a robbery and looking as if he had never moved from his spot at the milk section, but trails of lightning sparked and I scribbled down the word fast before clicking onto the last video.

Deep in the ocean from footage taken by a deep sea mechanical diver at a downed ship, that almost looked as if it was the Titanic, is what startled me. At a breach in the hull a light was shined and two golden eyes peered back before a man fitting the image and description I had of Ingrid's assumable boyfriend, appeared. In his hand was a large trident and with ease and extreme force he speared the diver and then shot off at impossible speed for any other human being.

Sitting back in my chair I stared at my notes and called Bruce.

He picked up after one ring, "Annie, is everything okay?"

"Ingrid visited me today. What is going on Bruce? Why is her boyfriend in the video of meta-humans you showed me?"

On the other line I could hear him shuffle around, "It's nice to hear from you too, Annie."

"Cut the bullshit, Bruce. Tell me what's going on,"

"Annie, I can't-,"

"Does it have to do with him? Is there something going on with Clark? These aliens are here because he's not, and I think you found your team."

"You're too smart for your own good,"

"I'm right? Clark is he-,"

"He's still dead."

A sob rose in my throat and I wiped my eyes glancing down at the small line my nail scratched into my kitchen table.

"I can't tell you more now, I have a plan, but I'm not sure if it'll work. I'll be sending Ingrid to meet you in five days. She'll tell you everything you need to know,"

"Why can't you tell me? Why can't you tell me right now?"

"I don't want to tell you something and it not work out, just trust me."

"Not work out? Bruce, what does that mean? Is this about Steppenwolf? There's dozen reports about a cult rising, praising Steppenwolf, their God, now that all these aliens are appearing. Bruce, you have to tell me something, please." My voice was desperate as I begged for more information. Anything to silence the ache in my chest.

"Just trust me."

And with that he hung up. I tossed my phone across the table, it sliding off the side and onto the the floor with a load metallic thud. I placed my hands over my mouth to silence my cries, but a noise caught my attention and I turned to see Ben staring at me, his brow set deep in anger.

"Ben..." I gasped, standing up out of my seat like I had been caught doing something wrong.

He looked at me for a few moments before walking away, shutting the bedroom door behind him. With a heavy body I slumped back into the chair and shut my eyes, tears streaming down my face.