Summary: This apartment was supposed to be a new start for Clark, a chance to move on after ending his relationship with Lois. It was a new start, alright, just not into the world he was thinking it would be
Pairing: Clark Kent & Ghost!Female Reader (Nicknamed Daisy)
Warnings: Mentions of illness, mentions of death, tame ghost haunting (just little shenanigans, nothing spooky), angst
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Clark was finishing up the last sentences of the article he was writing before turning it in when he glanced up to see Daisy looking out of the foggy-glass of his balcony doors. It was raining, and humid, so the glass had fogged over, but she wasn’t drawing little doodles in it like she normally did. “Daisy?” Clark asked, and her head turned to look at him. “What’s the matter?”
“Is it my fault that you don’t have more friends?” she asked, and Clark blinked in surprise.
“What? No. Why would you think that?”
“Diana is the only one who comes over regularly, and Jimmy hasn’t been here since you moved in. You talk about Bruce and Arthur and Barry, but they’re never here, and you don’t talk to anyone else but your mom. I know I’m hard to explain, but I don’t mind waiting somewhere until they leave.”
“Daisy, no, it’s not your fault,” Clark insisted. “I just have a complicated group of friends. Jimmy doesn’t know I’m Superman, but the others do. I’m the one with the secret, really. It’s my fault.” He closed his laptop, turning in his seat to look at her more carefully. “What made you think that?” Daisy turned from her place next to the door and hopped up onto the table next to him, her feet swinging slightly in the empty air.
“Grammy was really sick,” she said quietly. “For a really long time. I didn’t have a lot of friends because I was always here, taking care of her. It was–I pretended I wasn’t lonely, but I was. I don’t want you to stay here and not go have fun just because I’ll be here by myself.”
“Daisy, my life is so busy that I want nothing more than to come home and sit with you whenever I can,” Clark assured her, giving her hand a squeeze. “And I like my friends. We go do things. Jimmy and I get lunch together every Wednesday, and I see Diana and everyone whenever we have hero work to do.” She didn’t seem convinced. “Besides, who says I don’t have fun with you? You’re my best friend, Daisy.” She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, but he couldn’t stay to talk with her about it because he heard screaming somewhere in the eastern side of Metropolis. “I have to go, Daisy, but we’ll talk about it more when I get back, okay?”
“Okay. Be careful.” He stood up and kissed the top of her head before rushing off. Her sullen demeanor stuck with him as he helped rescue people from the burning building, and while he stopped several bank robberies, and when he and Arthur took down a blackmarket ring along the coast. He didn’t know how to help his daisy, and he didn’t know who to ask, either.
When he got home in the early hours of the morning, he found her exactly where he’d left her, sitting on the table and kicking her feet in the empty air. “I’m home, Daisy,” he said, and she looked up at him with a smile.
“Are you hurt?”
“Not even a scratch,” Clark answered, returning her smile. “I’m going to shower. We’ll talk afterwards.”
“No,” Daisy said, and he looked at her in surprise. “It’s late. You have work in the morning. Sleep. We can talk later.” She let out a slightly bitter laugh. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Daisy,” Clark said, but she shook her head.
“Go to bed, Clark. You need to rest.” Clark stood in the middle of his living room, torn about what to do. He didn’t want to leave her to sit in her thoughts all night, but he was tired, and he did have to go into the Planet in the morning. He decided to take the middle road between the two.
“I’m glad you’re here, Daisy,” he said. “It’s nice having someone to talk to. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Clark.”
“Come sit with me in my room?”
“No.” Well, that was that. He knew better than to push her into something she didn’t want to do. He sighed.
“Goodnight, Daisy.”
The storm had gotten worse overnight; Metropolis was beginning to feel like Gotham with the dark storm clouds and heavy rainfall. Everything felt dark and dreary, including Clark’s apartment. For the first morning in a long while, he didn’t see any sign of his daisy in the apartment as he was getting ready for work, not even a doodle on his mirror.
It was lonely.
He left her a note on the whiteboards, amidst old doodles of hers, saying he’d be back around six, and headed to work.
He felt as if he were in a fog all day, though, his mind puzzling over how to help Daisy feel better. He blinked, and the work day was practically over. Before he knew it, he was on his way back home, and he still didn’t have any answers.
So, he did what he usually did when he didn’t know what to do.
“Clark, honey, what a surprise!” Martha Kent exclaimed as she looked up from her kitchen counter. “Welcome home, honey. Come here and let me hug you.”
“Hi, Ma,” Clark greeted, squeezing her tightly. She pulled back and searched his face for a moment.
“What’s the matter, dear? You look upset.” Moms always knew. She sat him down at the kitchen table, the place where all important conversations happened in the Kent home, and Clark told her his problems.
“I have a friend, a very dear friend, who thinks that she’s keeping me from having fun with other people. It’s not true, but she has a condition where she can’t leave her home.”
“Oh, the poor dear.”
“I told her I don’t mind staying with her all the time, and I enjoy spending time with her. And I go out with my other friends, but most of the time I’m glad to have an excuse to sit at home and do nothing.”
“And she thinks that she’s in the way of you going out with other people?”
“Her grandmother was very sick, and she spent most of her life taking care of her, so she didn’t have many friends. And now she’s convinced herself that I’m doing the same thing.”
“Well, maybe you could bring some of your other friends to visit her? Can she see other people?”
“She can,” Clark replied with a nod. “She’s just–hard to explain.” Martha raised an eyebrow at him.
“Clark, honey, you’re hard to explain.” He laughed.
“Diana said the same thing.”
“She’s a smart woman.”
Was he going to do this? He was thinking about it. He didn’t like keeping secrets from her.
“Clark, dear, include her in things, when you can. I think it might go a long way. Maybe have a small party. Something that lets her see that you have fun with your friends and with her.”
Yep. He was gonna do it.
“Ma, she’s a ghost.”
There was a beat of silence.
“A ghost?”
“She died in the 90s.”
“So when she can’t leave–”
“She really can’t leave.”
“I see.” Truth be told, she was taking this better than he’d expected. “So, you’re friends with a ghost, then?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you’re also friends with someone from Atlantis, so I suppose this is something I’ll just have to get used to.”
“Arthur says hi, by the way,” Clark said.
“Oh good. Well, dear, I don’t know much about ghosts, but I do know there’s usually something keeping them here, isn’t there? Something they have to do?”
“You mean like unfinished business?”
“You might want to talk to her about that, honey. It may be playing a part in her feelings about you and your friends.”
He’d been stabbed a few times, most notably by Bruce before they were friends, but the realization that hit him from his Ma’s words hurt so much worse.
“She’s thinking about moving on,” he whispered.
“It sounds like she doesn’t want you to be lonely when she goes, honey,” Martha said, squeezing his hand. “And for that, I appreciate her, regardless of who she is.”
“I–I gotta get home,” Clark said, standing to his feet.
“Of course, dear. I’m glad you came by.”
“Love you, Ma.” She hugged him tightly.
“I love you too, Clark.”
Clark stepped into his apartment at 6:15, dripping wet from flying through the storm, and he was met with the sight of Daisy sitting in front of the door to his balcony again, the storm still raging outside.
“You’re late,” she said quietly.
“I had to go talk to my Ma.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” she replied. “Did you have a good time?”
“Are you thinking about moving on?” Her head snapped up to look at him in surprise.
“What?”
“Is that why you’re worried about me? You don’t want to leave me alone?” Her eyes brimmed up with tears.
“How did you figure it out?” Clark’s chest tightened, but he fought off the tears.
“My Ma’s pretty smart.” He put his things down, coming to kneel in front of her. “Daisy, why didn’t you tell me?” She bit her lip, hugging her knees to her chest.
“Do you know what my unfinished business is?”
“No. I didn’t want to ask.”
“My entire life, I took care of Grammy. I loved her, but I did it because no one else would. I wanted to have a life, but I couldn’t, because she needed me more. No one mourned me when I died. There wasn’t anybody.” Clark had a sinking feeling he knew where this was going. “What I wanted the most in the entire world was a friend.”
“I’m your unfinished business,” Clark whispered, and she looked up at him, eyes pooling and leaking tears down her cheeks.
“It would’ve been anybody who saw me and stuck around, Clark. I’m so glad it was you, but don’t blame yourself for it.”
“No, Daisy, I’m glad it was me, too.” He couldn’t stop his own tears from falling. “I’ll miss you, though.” She let out a wet laugh.
“I’ll miss you too. Thank you, Clark, for being my friend.” He surged forward to hug her, and cold arms latched around his neck. “Don’t be lonely, Clark. Please? I don’t want you to end up like me.”
“I won’t be, Daisy, I promise. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Thunder crashed, and Clark winced, as he always did during thunderstorms that hurt his hearing, and Daisy squeezed him tighter.
“I know you will, Clark. Promise me you’ll be careful?”
“I promise.” She pulled back, and she already looked more see-through than she had before. With tears streaming down both of their faces, she kissed his cheek and gave him a smile.
“Goodbye, Clark.” Her voice was already faint, and between one blink and the next, she was gone. He sagged, staring where she had just been and searching for any sign of her, but there was nothing to find.
“Goodbye, my daisy.”
He sat there, kneeling on the floor, for a long while, before he wiped at his eyes, sniffling, and picked up the phone.
“Hey, Diana…No, no I’m not…I’m not hurt, it’s fine…can I come over? I just–I really need a friend.”
Listen LIVE and call in to this interview Tuesday, September 17th, 10:15PM MT with Reed Summers at http://beyondrealityradio.com/ discussing the alien presence that is in our world today; who they are, what they want, and what humanity must know if it is to establish and maintain ethical contact, self-determination and sovereignty.
This comes at a time when The Allies of Humanity Book Four has just been released as part of a greater communication from ethical races in our local universe: AlliesofHumanity.org/BookFour
Summary: This apartment was supposed to be a new start for Clark, a chance to move on after ending his relationship with Lois. It was a new start, alright, just not into the world he was thinking it would be
Pairing: Clark Kent & Ghost!Female Reader (Unnamed)
Warnings: Mentions of death, tame ghost haunting (just little shenanigans, nothing spooky) If I need to add any, let me know!
If you would like to be added/removed from the taglist, please send me an ask/message!
A/N: I wrote this in like an hour after mentioning the idea to @rmtndew. I hope I delivered, my love!
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Clark had needed a fresh start, one away from the apartment that held so many memories of his time with Lois. She was a great friend, and she would always have a special place in his heart, but–he’d had to break-up with her after slowly coming to the realization that she’d stopped seeing him as Clark and only as Kal. He appreciated that Lois had been so quick to accept the other part of him, but he didn’t want that at the cost of himself. He was Kal-El, but he was Clark Kent first. He loved Ma, and he’d loved Pa too. His family from Krypton was locked away in the computer-magic-crystal thing, and he was glad to have answers to the things he’d always wondered, but he was still a human, in his heart, and when Lois had seemed to ignore that side of him, Clark had to step away.
So, he got a new apartment, in a quieter part of Metropolis. It was an older part of the city, the buildings made of brick and mortar instead of cement and steel. It was a cozy little place, with a nice balcony for relaxing in the evenings, and it wasn’t packed with memories he wanted to ignore.
Jimmy had helped him get settled in, but he’d left hours ago, and Clark decided to take a day off of being Superman. Let some of the others handle things for a night. He needed to relax, decompress, be himself for a night.
So, he called his Ma while he cooked pasta for dinner, telling her about his new apartment and the plans he had to decorate. When he finally hung up, he ate while watching mindless television, something he hadn’t done in a while. He didn’t even turn on his laptop. Instead, he fiddled with his stereo until he found a radio station he liked and listened to music while he unpacked several boxes.
“Where did I–” Clark mumbled to himself as he searched for the package of hooks he’d bought to hang pictures. “It was right here.” There was a noise, off to his left, and his head snapped over to look at what had caused it, but there was nothing there. The package of hooks was on the floor, though, tucked between two partially-empty boxes. “Oh, there it is.” It must have fallen off the counter.
He took his time, and he managed to get most of his things put away that evening, retiring to bed at a normal hour for once and looking forward to the next day, for a change.
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Clark huffed to himself as he patted his pockets and searched his apartment. “I just had them!” he fussed at himself. He’d had his keys in his hands before remembering he had to give Jimmy back the bags he’d borrowed for moving and turning to get them. Now, he couldn’t find his keys. “C’mon, Kent.” He didn’t see them anywhere, and he had X-Ray vision!
As he turned, something jingled, and he looked down to see the little dalmatian keychain Bruce’s ward Dick had given him with a gap-toothed grin poking out from underneath his shoe rack by the door.
“Good job, Kent,” he said to himself, shaking his head as he snagged them off the floor and hurried out the door.
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“It’s nice,” Diana said as she looked around his apartment, admiring how he had set things up.
“Thanks. I like it,” Clark said as he put his coat on the hook on the wall. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?”
“What blends do you have?”
“Of what?”
“Tea.”
“I have some lavender tea my Ma recommends.”
“It sounds lovely,” Diana replied, wandering over to poke her head around and look out onto his balcony. “You know what Bruce would say about this?”
“Bruce is paranoid,” Clark replied, “and I’m bulletproof. A balcony won’t hurt me. Besides, it’s nice to sit on and write. It’s really helped my productivity recently.”
“You do seem more at ease,” Diana said as she settled onto a stool and waited for her tea. Clark leaned against the counter as the kettle heated up. “You aren’t as tense. Arthur and Barry had a bet on when you and Bruce would try to bite each other’s heads off again.” Clark chuckled.
“I think I just needed a new start,” he said. “A new place to make new memories.” Diana smiled.
“Yes, I think that is just what you needed.” The kettle shut off, and Clark turned to pour both of them mugs of tea.
“You’re welcome over anytime you like,” Clark said.
“Thank you,” Diana replied. She rubbed at her arms a bit. “It’s a bit cool in here. Have you noticed any problems with your heat?” Clark frowned slightly.
“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “Are you cold? I can adjust it if I need to.”
“The tea should help,” she answered, shaking her head dismissively. “Just a chill, is all.”
When Diana left an hour later, Clark felt a chill in the same spot she had, and he shook his head, making a note to himself to check for air leaks around the balcony doors. Winter was approaching, and it would be a pain to deal with once the cold set in.
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Clark nearly slipped and fell as he climbed out of the shower. There was a woman sitting on his counter. “Mother of–” he exclaimed before he actually did slip, and when he looked back, she was gone. He swiped at the air where she had been, and he used every sense he had to try to figure out where she had gone. There wasn’t even a gust of wind.
He’d never hallucinated before, but this was cause for concern. He had been stepping up a bit more, Superman saving a good bit of people recently, but there had been an attack up and down the coast from some people Arthur was dealing with, so Clark had been helping out as best he could. They were a team, and more importantly, they were his friends, so he was trying to help when they needed him.
Maybe he should take a step back again, though, if he was seeing things that weren’t there.
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It began piling up, things that he couldn’t help but notice.
Things he’d lost appeared right when he was sure he couldn’t find them.
Things he didn’t remember getting out were left in odd places.
Things he did get out where moved slightly.
Perhaps the oddest one? He never had to clean. Dust didn’t seem to accumulate anywhere. He’d come in, battered a bit from the latest technology of some crazed villain, and he’d wake up to a first kit sitting on his bedside table when he was sure he hadn’t gotten it out, and the one time he’d actually bled all over his sheets, they were pristine when he came home to try to get them out or just burn them.
And that woman–he kept seeing her. Usually, it was right as he was getting out of the shower, always sitting on his bathroom counter. Once, he could swear he heard a giggle when he cursed angrily as he was trying to ice a cake for Jimmy’s birthday. It had scared the hell out of him, but still, there was no one there.
Finally, he was sitting on his couch, bent over his laptop as he fought with an article he was supposed to be covering for the Bugle, and it just wasn’t coming through. Nothing he wrote was working; it felt as if a six year-old was writing it, not a man with a degree in journalism.
He shouted in frustration, angrily rubbing at his eyes as he sank back against the couch.
Two things happened at once:
One, there was the faint sound of something being set down on his coffee table.
Two, he felt someone put a hand on his shoulder.
Jerking ramrod straight, Clark looked to his left, where the hand was. He caught the faintest shimmer of an outline, but it was gone as quickly as he found it, and when he looked around, he found a mug of hot chocolate sitting next to his laptop, steaming hot.
He was out of his apartment in less than a second, and Bruce gave him a stern look when he appeared next to him in his cave.
“The polite thing would be to call first,” the man replied.
“What do you know about ghosts?” Clark retorted, and for once, Bruce was stunned into silence.
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Clark paced as Bruce typed away at his computer, doing a deep-dive into the place that Clark had called home for the past four months. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Bruce asked.
“I thought it was new apartment weirdness,” Clark defended himself. “Or stress.”
“You hallucinated a woman sitting on your bathroom counter and thought it was stress?” Bruce echoed. He could hear the judgment and skepticism.
“I don’t know, Bruce. I don’t have an answer.” Clark sighed, running a hand through his hair as he kept pacing.
“Describe her.”
“It’s only small glances, Bruce. I don’t ever have time to analyze her.”
“Try.”
Clark spent the better part of two hours explaining every detail he could think of to describe the woman who was apparently haunting his apartment. Bruce asked such specific questions Clark didn’t think he’d be able to answer most of them, but the giant computer dinged twice in rapid succession nearly as soon as they were finished.
“Well?” Bruce asked, looking at him expectantly.
“That’s her,” Clark said, staring up at a giant picture of her. “Who–what happened?”
“Apparently, she died in ‘94. There was a gas leak in the apartment. The entire building had to be evacuated. It was too late by the time they got to her. She’d spent the past three years in that apartment caring for her ailing grandmother, who had died the month before.”
“It wasn’t–she didn’t–” Clark didn’t even want to speak it.
“No. The official investigation proved it was just a gas leak.”
“I–thank you, Bruce. Any ideas what to do when she shows up again?”
“Nope. Good luck.” Clark sighed and only barely refrained from rolling his eyes.
“Thanks, Bruce. Really.”
“Sure. Now get out. I’ve got patrol.”
He didn’t have to tell Clark twice.
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“Um, hello?” Clark called, feeling a bit silly standing in the middle of his empty apartment looking for something he wasn’t sure he wanted to see. “Are you there?”
Nothing. Not even a whisper of a breeze or the slightest chill in the air.
“I’m sorry I freaked out earlier. You scared me,” Clark continued. “I–” He paused. “I know what happened to you. I’m sorry.” The hot chocolate was still right where it was earlier that day. “If you want to talk, I’m listening.”
Silence.
Clark sighed.
“I promise I won’t run away next time,” he promised the empty air. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”
…
…
When he got out of the shower the next morning, there was a heart drawn on the mirror.
Summary: This apartment was supposed to be a new start for Clark, a chance to move on after ending his relationship with Lois. It was a new start, alright, just not into the world he was thinking it would be
Pairing: Clark Kent & Ghost!Female Reader (Nicknamed Daisy)
Warnings: Mentions of illness, tame ghost haunting (just little shenanigans, nothing spooky) If I need to add any, let me know!
At the end of the day, it was Jimmy who gave Clark an idea on how to talk to his unseen roommate. The pair were walking back from lunch, and Jimmy was chattering on about this new thing that he and his mom were doing. “It’s just so easy! I can’t imagine why we didn’t think of it when I was growing up!” Jimmy exclaimed.
“Still haven’t told me what it is,” Clark said with a smile.
“We hung whiteboards next to the fridge! A big one for important dates, and smaller ones for little notes and reminders. It’s great, Clark, really. Since I’m always running around for work, Mom just leaves me a note if there’s something I should know, and who doesn’t go to their fridge at least once a day for something? It’s amazing!”
“Huh.”
He bought two whiteboards on his way home that day. One went up next to the fridge, because it really was an easy thing to use to write down shopping lists. The other he set out on his coffee table. He left some markers out next to it, just in case, and wrote a little note out on it.
Hi. I’m Clark. What’s your name?
He had planned to sit and wait to see if anything happened, but he heard the faint sound of an explosion and shouts, and his balcony existed for a reason besides the fresh air.
The sun had long-since set by the time Clark stepped back into his apartment, tired and sore. Villains kept seeming to either be getting better endurance at fighting, or he was pulling his punches too much and making it easy on them. He took a shower to rinse off the grime of the day before collapsing face-first onto his bed. He nearly fell asleep before he heard something fall in his living room. The whiteboard! Clark seemed to find a second wind, no longer tired, as he practically ran to his coffee table. There, underneath his scrawl, written in purple marker very neatly, was a reply.
Hi Clark! (There was a little heart drawn as the exclamation point’s dot) I don’t like my name. You pick one! You’re almost out of lavender tea, btw! 💜
The little heart she drew at the end made him chuckle, and he carefully started writing a response.
I’ll get more tomorrow. Thank you. Is there any name you’d like in particular?
He set the boar down, watching it closely, and nothing happened. He sighed. It was working. Was something wrong? Maybe he’d make some tea. At least it’d give him something else to think about.
He heard a click. He spun around, and there was a new line on the whiteboard, along with a smiley face
I like flowers! 😃
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“I’m home, daisy!” Clark called into his apartment as he locked the door behind him. It was the nickname they’d decided on, his favorite flower, not that she knew that. The whiteboard on the coffee table had been joined by a second one to facilitate longer conversations. He was getting better about noticing her subtle presence, though. He could identify where she “was” if he looked for heat signatures and where it was unusually cold. If he left static on the radio, he could sometimes pick up faint giggles if he focused on it. He would find little post-it notes with doodles on them everywhere.
And every time he got out of the shower, there was a heart drawn in the condensation on the mirror.
Bruce asked him about this guest exactly once, asking if he needed to call a priest or something. Clark shook his head immediately. His daisy wasn’t a danger to anyone, and he liked knowing that he wasn’t coming home to an empty apartment, honestly.
He just wished he could see her more than the very faint glimpses he could catch, usually on rainy days when he was working from home and glance up as he thought about something. A flash of color, a faint humming, once, everything always disappearing before he could grasp it. He wasn’t used to not being able to see things, or hear things, and he desperately wanted to see her. He’d even gone to his frozen fortress up in the North Pole and asked the memory of his father what he could do, but apparently there were gaps even in the knowledge of Krypton about ghosts.
As Clark kicked off his shoes and hung his jacket up on the hook behind his door, he felt something like arms around his waist, but it was gone the moment he noticed. When he turned around, there was a mug of tea sitting out on the island, steam slowly curling up from it.
“Thank you, daisy,” he said, picking it up and taking a sip from it. Exactly how he liked it, as always. “I hope you had a nice day. I stopped three robberies on my way to work this morning. It seems to have quietened down now, though.” He casually told her about his day as he went through his routine after coming home from work, sipping the tea as he did. Ma called as he was settling down on the couch, and he chatted with her for about an hour before he picked up the sound of screaming far out west, timed with a message from Bruce.
All hands. Nevada. Forty miles east outside of Reno
“Ma, I’ve gotta go. A friend from work needs something.”
“Oh, alright, Clark. You have a good afternoon.”
“I will, Ma. Love you.”
“Love you too, dear.” He tossed his phone on the coffee table and got to his feet.
“I have to go, daisy. I’ll be back later.” He was up and out the balcony doors in the flash, heading towards Nevada as fast as he could. He and Barry got to the location at the exact same time.
“Told ya,” the man said with a grin. Clark ignored the jab.
“What’s going on?”
“Bats says there’s–” An explosion rocked the ground, and three men in exosuits appeared from the crater that appeared in the ground. Clark shifted his stance, sighing.
“I left a good mug of tea for this,” he grumbled. Barry laughed.
“I broke three plates getting here, and none of them were my own!” Clark shook his head with a smile before the pair launched at the suits. It was going to be a long afternoon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Diana, I’m fine,” Clark groaned, batting off her hands.
“You are not,” Diana replied, her brows doing that thing when she scolded him. “Bruce really needs to figure out where they keep finding this kryptonite. We’re never prepared for it.” She wrapped a bandage around his upper arm, covering the long gash that had been torn into his skin from the kryptonite blade the group had. Some tiny resistance faction (what they were resisting, Clark had no idea) had gotten their hands on a fair amount of it, and by the time Clark and the others had figured it out, they were already at the bottom of their underground base, and he had no way to get out fast.
“I’ll be fine in a day or two. I just wanna get home.” He’d already had to call Jimmy and get him to cover for him at the Bugle. It was two o’clock in the afternoon of the next day. He’d been in no condition to go anywhere, and Diana had carried him to a cabin in Montana that Bruce just happened to have as a safe house.
“These aren’t healing as quickly as they usually do,” Diana replied. Uh oh. The “no nonsense, I fought in wars before you were even born” face. Clark did not want this woman to ever meet his Ma.
“I’m fine, Diana. I promise. I’ll take it easy the next few days, I swear.” She searched his face, trying to find any hint of a lie or an attempt to hide something from her.
“Fine. I’ll take you home. If I hear even the mention of Superman, anywhere on this planet–”
“You won’t, I swear,” Clark assured her, knowing she would make good on her promise.
Two hours later, she shadowed him into his apartment. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning,” she said. “If you don’t answer–”
“I promise, Diana,” Clark replied, his gaze already searching his apartment for any sign of his daisy.
“If you need something–”
“I have your number, and a grocery delivery service. I’m fine, I promise.” She stared at him again before giving him a hug, careful of his still-healing wounds.
“Get some rest, Clark.”
“I will. Bye, Diana.” She left, and he leaned against his door once the sound of her footsteps disappeared several blocks away, groaning slightly. He ached, he was tired, his wounds hurt, and he needed sleep.
“I’m home, daisy,” he said, though it came out as more of a whisper. He didn’t even have the energy to jump when he felt tiny hands on his back. “I’m fine, I promise. Just need to sleep.” There was a plucking at his shirt, a quiet urge for him to move and go lie down. Still, it took him a minute to shift and walk away from his front door. He paused at his coffee table, looking down at the boards there, covered in her neat, looping handwriting.
Be safe!
You should get a dog. Or something.
It’s raining a lot today. Stay warm so you don’t get a cold.
It’s morning, right? Shouldn’t you be back soon?
Where are you?
Finally,
What took you so long? Are you okay?
“I’m okay, daisy,” he said. “Just going to lay down a little bit.” He made his way into his bedroom, changing into his sleep pants and burrowing under the blankets. “Goodnight, daisy.”
He was nearly asleep, but he would swear later that he felt someone run their fingers through his hair and heard a soft “Goodnight, Clark.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clark woke up in the middle of the night sweltering. He felt as if he was boiling alive but also as if he didn’t have enough energy to think, let alone do anything about it. When he opened his eyes, his entire room was bleeding together. “Wha–” His tongue was thick and heavy in his mouth, not wanting to cooperate. He tried to sit up, but his body felt too heavy, and he couldn’t get his arms to move and push him upright.
Something was wrong.
The thought was gone before he had time to think about it any more than that.
Two cold hands cupped his cheeks, soothing the heat roiling within him, and he blinked, trying to focus on the most beautiful face he’d ever seen, but it kept shifting in and out of focus.
“Clark, please,” a melodic voice begged, and he’d do whatever it wanted, if he could hear it again. “That’s sweet, but you have to stay awake. Call Diana. Please.” His arm flopped uselessly on the mattress, trying to reach his phone. His head was full of cotton candy, and he couldn’t think. “Clark!”
His focus slipped away with a whisper, and he didn’t have the strength to call it back again.
Summary: This apartment was supposed to be a new start for Clark, a chance to move on after ending his relationship with Lois. It was a new start, alright, just not into the world he was thinking it would be
Pairing: Clark Kent & Ghost!Female Reader (Nicknamed Daisy)
Warnings: Mentions of illness, mentions of near death, tame ghost haunting (just little shenanigans, nothing spooky) If I need to add any, let me know!
Clark was mostly sure he was missing entire parts of whatever conversation was going on, and his head felt about fifteen pounds too heavy, but he was determined to figure out where he was, because whatever he was lying on was too uncomfortable to be his bed. His eyes opened, and dim white light filled whatever room he was in. It wasn’t a hospital, or if it was, it was the quietest one he’d ever been in.
Listening carefully, he was able to pick up Diana and Bruce talking.
“But what was it, Bruce?”
“Kryptonite poisoning. Their blades were coated in a dusting of it, and it got into his blood when they cut him.”
“I should’ve stayed with him.”
“You couldn’t have known. And he wouldn’t have let you.” Clark groaned, pushing himself up. Less than a minute later, Bruce and Diana were standing in the doorway to the room, and he gave them a weak smile and wave.
“Hi,” he said, his voice scratchy. Diana walked over and held up a glass of water with a straw for him to drink out of.
“You should have called me, Clark,” she said.
“I–” He had a flash of a memory, a voice telling him to call Diana and him reaching for his phone. “I tried. I think I passed out before I could.” Diana sighed.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Sore?”
“It’s mostly out of your system now,” Bruce said, standing in the doorway still. “If Diana hadn’t called yesterday morning, things might have been a different story.”
“Yesterday?” Clark echoed.
“You’ve been unconscious for over twenty-four hours,” Diana explained. “I brought you here, since most doctors wouldn’t be able to handle you. I hope that’s okay? Bruce was the only person I know who had the ability to help.”
“It’s fine, Diana. Thank you.” Clark looked at Bruce as well, nodding his thanks.
“Stay as long as you need,” Bruce said, turning on his heel to leave. “Alfred’s got a room ready for you if you want.”
“Thank you, but I feel much better, if a little sore. I think I want to go back home,” Clark answered, his mind on his daisy, who was probably incredibly worried for him.
“I’m coming with you,” Diana said, and her tone left no room for argument. Clark got dressed in the clothes Diana had brought with her for him, and Diana drove them the entire way from Gotham to Metropolis. Luckily, it was a weekend, and Clark took weekends off from the Bugle, so he wasn’t expected anywhere.
When he finally stepped into his apartment, he immediately searched for any sign of movement. Some things were knocked over, but they tracked with Diana having to bodily carry him out of the apartment and get him to Gotham.
“Thirsty?” Diana asked, already making her way to his kitchen to turn on his kettle and search through his cabinets for his tea collection.
“Thanks. I’m going to shower.”
“I’ll be here.” He walked into his bedroom, which was even more of a mess, but that wasn’t what had him freezing in his doorway. There, sitting on his bed, with her face in her hands, was his daisy. She looked gorgeous with the sunlight streaming in from the window, even though it didn’t bounce off of her or highlight anything on her like he knew it should.
“I’m home, daisy,” he said, and her head shot up, tears coating her cheeks, and then she gasped when she saw that he was looking right at her.
“You–you can see me?” she whispered. Her voice was soft and sweet, and he smiled and nodded. She whimpered for a moment before she jumped to her feet and ran, tiny arms latching around him with surprising strength, and they didn’t disappear. He felt them, as if there was an actual person hugging him. Carefully, he brought his arms up, daring to try to touch her, and to his relief, he could. He was gentle, afraid to do something irreversible (what, he didn’t know), but he hugged her. “I was so scared,” she admitted into his chest. “I couldn’t do anything. All I managed to do was knock the lamp over. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care about the lamp,” he replied.
“I spent my whole life caring for Grammy, and I knew what to do, but I couldn’t do anything. Don’t ever, ever do that again! And then you didn’t come back, and–I just sat here, waiting for movers to come take your things away. I didn’t know what was going on. Don’t ever do it again, Clark, please, I can’t take it.”
“I’m sorry, daisy.” There was a dawning horror washing over him. If Bruce hadn’t been able to help, if the worst had happened, she wouldn’t have known. No one would have known to tell her. People would have just shown up who knew how much later and started packing his things to take them away, and she wouldn’t have anyone anymore. “I’m so sorry. I’m okay, though. I’m here. My friends helped me, and I’m just sore.”
“Take a warm bath. Or a shower. Heat loosens stiff joints.” Clark chuckled slightly.
“I will, daisy. I promise.” She eventually let go of him, her eyes looking up at him still swimming with tears and worry.
“How can you–how?” she asked. “You’ve never been able to before.”
“Only glimpses,” he answered as he shuffled into the bathroom to start the water. “Bruce said it was close, that if Diana hadn’t come to check on me, it might have been worse. Maybe it’s that?” She shivered, as if she were cold, which Clark always felt cold when she was around, but this was a shiver of fear, he thought.
“I don’t like that, but it does make sense. The last person who lived here was an old man, and at the end, before they sent him to the hospital, he could see me. He thought I was his lover, from a war he was in. I don’t know which one.” Clark hummed.
“I’m sorry, daisy.” He would never be able to apologize enough to rid himself of the guilt of scaring her so badly, even though he didn’t have any say in the matter.
“You’re fine now, which is the important thing,” she assured him. “Go. I’m not going anywhere.” As Clark stepped into the bathroom and started peeling off his shirt, he sent her a smile.
“I better still keep finding hearts on my mirror,” he said, and her laughter sent a bolt of warmth through his heart that made him feel better than he had all day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clark stepped back into his living area to find Diana sitting primly at his counter, two mugs of tea sitting next to her. “Feeling better?” Diana asked, looking up from her phone.
“Much, thank you.”
“Here. I kept it warm for you.” She pushed a mug towards him, and he settled onto his chair with only a slight groan. He was going to be sore for at least another day, he was almost certain.
“Thank you, Diana. For everything.”
“Of course. We’re friends. We take care of each other.” Clark hummed before taking a long, slow sip of his tea. For a long moment, they just sat in silence. “Clark?”
“Hm?”
“Care to explain these?” She held up the whiteboards that had been on his coffee table, and Clark nearly spat out his tea when he caught sight of them.
“Uh.”
“This isn’t your handwriting, and you haven’t mentioned getting a girlfriend, especially letting one into your apartment.”
“Well,” he started, but he never finished the sentence. Over Diana’s shoulder, he could see his daisy standing in the hallway, watching them with wide eyes and a bit of concern. How did one explain that he was emotionally attached to a ghost? While he couldn’t say he loved her as in wanted to date her, his daisy was important to him, at least as a very dear friend, even though they hadn’t gotten to speak much.
“And why the boards? Can’t you just text them? I’ve seen the inside of your fortress, Clark. You know how to text.”
“We can’t text, no,” Clark answered, his eyes still locked on his daisy, who was stepping forward into the room carefully.
“Why not? Do they not have a phone?”
“No, they don’t.”
“Then how did you meet them?”
“When I moved into the apartment.” There was a wide smile on his daisy’s lips, and he heard her giggle, prompting him to take a sip of his tea to hide his smile.
“Does she live here?”
“Yes.”
“But why does she come into your apartment, Clark?”
“Uh.”
“Clark!” Diana said, and his eyes snapped over to her. “You’re hiding something.”
“No,” Clark insisted. He got a raised eyebrow over Diana’s shoulder. “Well, yes, but not intentionally. It’s just–it’s hard to explain.” Diana shifted and leaned back in her chair.
“Clark, you and I are both hard to explain. Not everything is as hard as it seems. What is it?”
“Daisy, can you knock something over?” Clark said, and he received a laugh for his troubles. She leaned over and pushed the stack of books on his side table for his couch over, sending three books scattering across the floor. Diana jumped before turning around and searching for what had caused that.
“Who is–Clark?”
“I didn’t do it,” he insisted. “She did.”
“She who?” His daisy laughed, clearly enjoying the woman’s reaction. The sound made Clark smile. “Clark!”
“I’m sorry, Diana. I don’t mean to be mean. I can’t show you because I only just started to see her too. I call her daisy, but that’s not her name. She used to live here.”
“Are you telling me she’s a ghost?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Clark replied. “Those whiteboards were our way of communicating, but I can see and hear her now, so we won’t have to use them anymore.”
“I want to,” his daisy said. “I like leaving you notes.”
“Alright, daisy, you can keep doing that.”
“That’s creepy. You can hear her now?” Clark raised an eyebrow at Diana, who conceded that was a stupic sentence. “Where is she?”
“Standing on the other side of the couch.” Diana searched the space, but her eyes never focused on the woman standing in Clark’s living space.
“Okay, you were right. It’s hard to believe, but okay. You’ve got a ghost roommate.”
“Best friends,” his daisy corrected, and Clark couldn’t help his smile widening.
“Best friends,” he amended.
“Ever since you moved in?”
“A few months ago, actually,” Clark answered. “Before then, I didn’t notice. Bruce helped me figure her out, but I just call her daisy.”
“Why?”
“She doesn’t like her name,” Clark said with a shrug. Diana sighed and finished off the last of her tea.
“Well, it is odd, but you seem fine. If that changes, though…” Diana left her sentence hanging.
“I’ll let you know,” Clark promised. “Thank you, Diana.”
“We’re friends, Clark. It’s what we do for each other. I’ll head home now. Check in tomorrow morning. If I have to come back and check on you, you won’t like it.”
“I will. I promise.” Diana got to her feet and took her jacket off the back of her chair.
“Goodnight Clark. Daisy.” He watched the tiny happy grin that overtook his daisy’s face at being included.
“Bye, Diana!” she said, waving even though she couldn’t be seen, and Clark smiled.
“Goodnight, from both of us,” he said, and he watched Diana process that before she left. “Oh, and Diana?” She paused in the doorway. “Bruce already knows.” She must have sworn in some other language he didn’t speak, but he couldn’t help but laugh at the face she made as she turned and left, her heels clicking on the hardwood as she walked down the stairs, and he fully expected her to tear into Bruce for not telling her about this later tonight. He wouldn’t eavesdrop, though. Either Bruce or Diana would complain to him about it later. Clark turned back to his daisy, who was still standing by his couch. “So, daisy,” he said with a smile, “wanna watch a movie?”
Her squeal of excitement was adorable, and he couldn’t stop the bloom of warmth that spread in his chest at the sound.
