No!!!! NOOOOOO!!!! Nononono!!!!!

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Clark is dying???? Again??? For real???

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Clark spun and used his body to shield Lois from the three bullets that the thug fired at them.

Lois felt like her heart was being ripped from her when Clark's body jerked at each bullet as they hit his chest.

“No!” she screamed. Clark moaned and began to slide out of her arms.

“Now you've done it!” one of the other thugs grunted as he pulled himself up from the ground. “The police will be after us for sure now. I didn't sign up for no murder rap.” He took off running down the street and was joined by his two wounded companions.

The thug who had shot the gun was staring in disbelief as Clark slumped to the ground. His face paled and he stumbled off down the street after the others.

Lois dropped down beside Clark. “No,” she whimpered. “Clark?” She shook him. “Clark!”
That's how part twenty ended, and we thought you had killed Clark. Well, luckily for you, young lady, you hadn't (crosses arms and taps foot). Clark was not seriously hurt at all...

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Three bullets slid down his chest, leaving behind them three ugly, red welts. She put her fingers to the swollen, bruised skin and pressed against it. There was no blood.

“Ouch,” Clark complained. “I might not be shot, but that still hurts.”
Whew! Or...

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(By the way, though, since I am the chairperson of the SPCBC - the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Buttons on Shirts - I must protest against this:

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Feeling no compassion for the buttons on his shirt, she ripped it open.
razz End of parenthesis >)

Okay, so we thought Clark was all right, didn't we? So what did you throw in our faces then, DJ? Huh? Huh?

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Lois watched as Clark sat up and turned to gather her in his arms before standing up with her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled against him, wanting never to let go. But Clark faltered suddenly, almost dropping her.

“Clark?” Lois scrambled out of his arms anxiously and watched as he doubled over, resting his hands against his knees. “Honey, what's wrong?”

“I don't know,” he answered woozily. “I just feel really weak all of a sudden.”

“Is your wound hurting?” she asked, grabbing for his shirt.

“I don't know. I don't think so,” he wheezed.

She pulled his open shirt back and examined his side. It appeared to be okay. She then checked the area where he had been shot and it, too, seemed all right. Yet, she could tell Clark was in obvious pain.

“Do you think you can make it back to your apartment?” she asked, glancing around the street.

“No,” he admitted. “I'm sorry. I just feel so weak.” He went down on his knees and then sat down on the ground. “I don't even have the strength to stand.”
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Okay, Dr. Klein to the rescue - or at least, Dr. Klein to provide the explanation:

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“If you'll remember,” Dr. Klein continued, a little perturbed by her outburst, “I told you that Superman's body would be working overtime to expel the remaining particles of Kryptonite from his system.”

“Yes,” she admitted. He had told them that.

“Then you should understand that it's probably taking a lot of his strength and energy to fight, and hopefully expel, the invading poison in his system.” Dr. Klein shook his head disapprovingly. “He shouldn't be trying to use any of his powers right now because it obviously drains him too much. Any energy reserves that he had built up, he probably used on that little rescue. He should be resting as much as he possibly can.”
Hmmmm...<mutter> <grumble> Okay....

Or maybe... Dr. Klein to the rescue after all:

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&#8220;Now, on that point,&#8221; Dr. Klein continued, &#8220;I think I've got something that might help.&#8221; He walked over to the vault, went inside, and then came back out a few seconds later with a vial of liquid and a syringe.

Not another needle, Clark lamented, wincing at the thought.

&#8220;This is an antidote of sorts,&#8221; Klein explained, tilting the bottle to indicate the liquid inside. &#8220;Or actually... maybe you would call it an anti-serum... Or perhaps a... vaccine?&#8221; he mumbled, staring at the vial. &#8220;You can't really call it anti-venom...&#8221;
A vaccine? A cure for Kryptonite poisoning? hyper

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<pant>

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&#8220;You understand, though, that this will be extremely experimental. I haven't exactly had any other Kryptonians that I could do research on.
Experimental. Now that sounds reassuring. :rolleyes:

Anyway, Clark got better, and Clark and Lois had a beautiful wedding. You surely made us feel that both of them looked stunning, and I was glad that both Sam and Ellen were there (and sitting together, to boot), and I loved that Perry married them! Ah, Perry!!! rotflol

(Of course, I didn't much like that Sam and Ellen "gave Lois away" as if she was a piece of property. Did Martha and Jonathan give away Clark?)

And, hmmm, just to postpone the horror awaiting us - you had me giggling just a little at the beginning of this part, when Lois found out that she was missing a small chunk of her hair. For a moment there I thought you would just briefly veer into Tank territory and give us a Lois haircut! laugh Ah, well, better not - there is no way to be sure of Lois and Clark's health and well-being - or even survival - in a Tank story... frown

But then what did you do, DJ??? Did you turn this into a Tank story after all? A Tank story without the fun, the haircut, but complete with the deathly Tank ending???

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<...For as long as we both shall live...>

No. It was too soon. Their life together had barely begun. It wasn't enough.

But would it ever be enough? He would never want to leave her, or her to leave him... even when they were old and gray. But if he had to leave this world, at least he would die knowing that he had found happiness. Not everyone could say that.

A calm slowly overcame him - his brain's reaction to the intensity of the pain taking over and blocking his cognizant reception of it. He was losing consciousness.

Fight, he told himself. Fight for Lois.

But he couldn't. The room was fading in and out. He could hear Lois's voice coming from far off and he wanted to call out to her, but he couldn't. It was just too hard &#8211; it hurt too much. His eyes rolled back into the darkness and try as he might, he couldn't open them again.
Nooooo!!!! Nonononononono!!!! [Linked Image]

My only hope is that Sheila is right, that Clark has "only" got a kidney stone. That hurts like the mother, I know - no, I haven't had anything like that myself, fortunately, but I know others who have. Perhaps Clark has even got a kryptonite stone?

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Come back pronto, young lady!!! You've caused us enough grief and sorrow by now, so it's time for you to fix this!!! <wags finger> <taps foot>

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Ann