Previously on Seed of Doubt...



"Lois," Clark said, as they entered the conference room. He shut the door gently behind them. "What's going on? Is something wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

She didn't answer right away. She merely gazed out of the large glass windows and into the bullpen at large.

"Because if I did," Clark continued, unsure of if he should keep his distance from her or to approach, "I'm sorry."

She sighed again, a sound that came up from the depths of her very soul. "No, Clark. You didn't do anything wrong."

"So...then, what? Is everything okay with your family?"

"It's not that," Lois said, finally peeling her eyes away from the bustling newsroom. "It's just...we need to talk."

Clark sat in a chair. "I'm listening."

Lois seemed to contemplate the high back of the chair opposite from him but remained standing. "I was watching TV the other night."

When she paused, Clark shrugged in an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere. "Everyone does that," he joked.

Lois shook her head. "This commercial came on. You know the ones. The late night ones. It was for a...ah...product. For....intimate...uh...diseases."

"Oh." It was the best Clark could come up with.

"And it got me thinking," Lois went on with her confession. "We didn't...that is...we weren't safe. I mean, I know you said you've never...but with what Lex had done the night before...I got scared. So yesterday morning, I saw my doctor. Just to be sure, you understand. I couldn't stand the idea that maybe Lex had passed something on...and that maybe I unwittingly passed something to you."

"Lois, I don't think..." he started to say, but she cut him off before he could speak another word.

"Well, she ran a bunch of tests and blood work and the like. Somehow, I'm clean. Maybe Lex is usually more...protected? I mean, I'm sure he's...you know. He's a billionaire. He can have anyone he wants."

"That's great news," Clark said. "So...why are you so upset?"

"Because the doctor did find one thing."

"What's that?" Clark asked, his stomach dropping to the floor in fear.

Please, God, let Lois be okay. I can't live my life without her.

"I'm...I'm...pregnant."


***


I'm pregnant.

The words were lightning strikes to Clark's brain.

Pregnant.

A baby.

His?

Or Luthor's?

"I...uh....that is..." he stammered, looking for the right words. "Is she sure?"

"I'm afraid so," Lois said, looking to be on the verge of tears. "She had me take a standard home pregnancy test and it was positive. Then she did an ultrasound, to see how far along it is and if it's healthy looking." She dug in her purse for a moment.

"And it was true," Clark supplied, as she handed him the ultrasound photo. He stared at it, half in shock, half in awe.

Lois broke down in tears. "I didn't want to believe it. But there is was, right there in the middle of the screen. A black blob of amniotic fluid with this tiny white smudge in the center. She showed me this...flicker. It was a heartbeat, Clark. I didn't want it to be true. But it was there. Oh, God. It was right there, beating away. I'm...it's...nearly eight weeks along. Which, of course it is. We haven't...you know...done that, since the pheromone spray affected us. But I don't know...we can't be sure yet if it's yours." She ended her babbling to break down in heaving sobs.

"Hey, it's okay," Clark said, standing. He went around the table to hug her. "It's okay." He stroked the back of her head, running his hand over her silky hair, trying to comfort her.

"It's a nightmare," Lois whispered into his shoulder.

"Lois, we'll figure this out," he promised her.

"I can't believe this is happening. Everything was going so well," Lois lamented. "I'm so sorry, Clark. I never meant for this to happen. You must be so mad."

"Mad?" he asked numbly, as he tried to absorb everything she'd said.

Help! Someone! He's got a gun!

The cry for help took him off guard and he mentally groaned.

Not now! he thought in vain.

He picked up a police scanner next.

All units to Metropolis General. I repeat, all units to Metropolis General. Armed and dangerous gunman in the cancer ward. Shots have been fired. At least five dead or wounded. EMS on the way. Gunman is a white male, two hundred pounds, about six feet tall. Wearing a green camouflage shirt and dark blue jeans. Carrying a handgun. Proceed with caution.
Clark had lost track of what Lois was saying. He gently pulled out of her embrace.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"What do I think?" he repeated, at a loss. He licked his lips nervously. He needed to get away to help, and soon. "I...uh...I think...uh...I think I need some air," he finally stammered out. "Excuse me."

With that, he ducked out of the conference room. He knew it was a lousy excuse. And he knew his sudden departure would upset Lois. But he honestly hadn't been able to think of a good way to extract himself from that conversation, though he did regret that he'd neglected to assure Lois that they would speak in further depth later that day. There was a lot for them to discuss, he knew.

"Clark?" she called after him, sounding more heartbroken and distraught than he'd ever heard her. "Clark? Wait! Come back!"

I'm so sorry, Lois, he thought as he rushed off, looking for a place to change into Superman.

He hated to leave. He wanted to talk to Lois. He needed her to know that he didn't fault her for the situation they were now facing. She had to know that, whatever she chose to do, she would not be facing it alone. But people's lives hung in the balance. He couldn't just shirk his responsibilities as Superman to discuss Lois' newly discovered pregnancy.

Pregnant.

A baby.

Potentially his child.

The idea of a child of his own blood was exciting to Clark. In fact, he felt oddly calm about the prospect of becoming a father to his own son or daughter. It wasn't scary, the way he'd heard it described by some of his friends from high school and college who'd already crossed the threshold into parenthood - by choice or by accident. On the contrary, Clark looked forward to rocking a squalling child to sleep at night, comforting hurts, getting splashed at bath time, even changing diapers.

A family.

He'd always dreamed of a family of his own. A wife and children who made him feel complete. People to come home to at night. A network of love and support.

It wasn't that he hadn't felt that way as a child. Even after finding out that he wasn't Jonathan and Martha's natural child, he'd always felt loved, supported, and accepted. But questions had always remained. Who had been the parents who'd given him life? Why had they given him up? Didn't they love him? Even when the globe had given up its secrets to him, questions had remained, despite the answers it had provided. And a profound sense of loss and loneliness had grown. He was, by all accounts, the only living Kryptonian in the universe. He truly was set apart from the world. But he knew he didn't need the love and acceptance of the world. Sure, it was nice that Superman had that, but the world didn't know him, not really.

In Lois, he'd found what he was looking for. Assuming, that was, that she could accept and forgive the lies he'd told her, and that his double life didn't drive an irreparable wedge between them once he came clean and told her the truth.

He sighed heavily as he flew to Metropolis General.

In and out, he promised himself. Stop the gunman and get back to Lois.

He slowed as he reached the hospital and came into a soft landing outside of the emergency room doors. Already, the street had been cordoned off by the police. Several police cars and vans had been haphazardly parked to block traffic, alongside the wooden roadblocks. Several officers walked the length of the blockade, urging reporters and gawkers alike to move back to a safer distance. Some listened but most didn't, Clark saw.

He landed next to a group of police men and women who were clustered around a van. The woman who appeared to be in charge was handing out riot gear, which the others were carefully and dutifully strapping on, though Clark could see that their actions looked hurried.

"Superman!" the leader said. Her badge identified her as Garrison, just before she strapped a bulletproof vest on.

"What's the situation in there?" he asked, allowing the woman to brief him. He disliked rushing headlong into delicate scenarios like this without foreknowledge.

"Some nutcase is shooting up the cancer ward. We know of at least five people that have been shot."

"Where's the cancer ward?" Clark asked. He wasn't familiar with anything more than the emergency room.

"It's the entire sixth floor," Garrison said.

Clark nodded. "I'll go in first and try to talk him down. If nothing else, I'll disarm him. Then you can make the arrest."

Garrison smiled. "Glad to have you with us, Superman. Okay, folks, let's move!"

The officers arranged themselves into a predetermined formation, allowing Clark to take the lead. He heard them when they finally moved forward, after waiting for him to get far enough ahead that they were sure to be giving him the space he needed to work in. He was grateful for that. He wanted to protect those men and women as much as possible. Garrison radioed in their plan, though Clark wasn't sure if it was to all the other officers on the scene or back to command. He didn't care. It made no difference to him.

The hospital was on lockdown, but the doors were opened to allow the police officers and himself entrance. Clark mounted the steps in the closest stairwell, taking them as fast as he dared, while the police hustled behind him. He took it a little faster as he neared the top, asking Garrison and her squad to stay back, but close enough to be on hand for the arrest.

He reached the sixth floor and confidently opened the door to the cancer ward. He'd expected an eerie silence, but the truth was, it seemed to be almost business as usual. Groans of pain came from various rooms. Someone in one of the closer rooms was coughing harshly. Machines beeped. Phones rang. With the exception of the lack of people in the halls and waiting areas, it seemed oddly normal. Clark moved forward, his every sense on alert for the gunman.

He found the man as he rounded a corner where the nurses' station was. A doctor was on his knees, tears streaming down his face. Blubbering, he was begging for his life. Clark slowed his stride and approached cautiously.

"You don't want to do this," he told the gunman.

"Says who?"

"Trust me," Clark said. "Whatever it is that you want, this isn't the way to go about it."

"This is exactly what needs to happen," the gunman said defiantly.

Before Clark could react, the man squeezed the trigger and the doctor's head exploded into flesh and blood. Clark blinked once in shock. He'd expected, if anything, for the man to shoot at him, not the doctor, if he shot again at all. He'd truly hoped to talk the man into a calmer state. Clark stepped forward, just enough to see a female nurse cowering behind the high desk of the nurses' station. She immediately freaked out as the doctor's brains spattered over the walls, floor, and her own scrubs.

"Jeff," she screamed. "Oh, God! Jeff! No!"

The gunman trained his weapon on her. "Shut up! Or you're next. I don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to."

The woman stopped screaming, but she didn't stop crying and she continued to shake and whimper.

"Put the gun down," Clark commanded him.

His mind felt like it was wrapped in a fog from Lois' earlier revelation. Mentally, he gave himself a shake, trying to slough off those thoughts to bring himself fully into the present. He'd already made one mistake. He couldn't afford to make another.

"I'm not done here yet," the man spat back.

"Yes, you are," Clark said firmly. In the blink of an eye, he sped over to the nurse, standing before her to protect her, shielding her with his body. "Give me the gun," he demanded, palm outstretched to receive it as he reached forward, ready to make a grab for it.

"Never!" He squeezed the trigger, perhaps hoping to make some point.

The nurse screamed, but no harm came to her. Quick as lightning, Clark had caught the bullet. He held it up for the gunman's inspection, then deliberately squashed it into a harmless pancake between his thumb and index fingers.

"You don't want to play this game," Clark warned him. "Because I assure you, you will lose. Now give me the gun."

Clark roughly snatched the gun away from the shooter. Every second the man had an opportunity to be in possession of the weapon, people would be in danger. Already, one man had been murdered before his very eyes, a scene which sickened Clark. He knew it would haunt him for a long time to come. And the longer Clark lingered in the hospital, the more distressed he knew Lois would become. As soon as the man was weaponless, he seemed to change. His once straight and tall stance slumped. The fire in his eyes dimmed, though it did not extinguish. Clark crossed his arms before him, holding the gun out of reach as he crumbled the middle of it, rendering the weapon useless.

"Why?" Clark asked the gunman. He restrained the man by holding his wrists behind his back.

"They took everything from me. Everything. My wife. She came in here...they told me the surgery had minimal risks. And they killed her. She left here in a casket. Now it's their turn to die."

Clark was appalled. "You killed these people because your wife died?" he asked.

"She didn't die! She was killed! She went into that operating room to have a routine mastectomy. They said 'complications' had occurred. She died on that cold steel slab!"

Clark saw Garrison and her squad peeking around the bend. The gunman's back was to them, so he was blissfully unaware of their presence. He inclined his head, making it seem as natural a movement as possible.

"So...what? You came in here to kill everyone involved with her surgery?" Clark asked, trying to keep the man engaged with him so he wouldn't notice the police as they crept closer. He didn't want the man to see the police coming and perhaps revert back to his earlier wild rage. He gestured to the dead body beside him to keep the man's eyes focused forward.

"You don't understand. How could you ever understand?" the man yelled, half in fury and half in despair. "You fly around, above anyone else. You don't know what love is! You don't know what it's like to have your world ripped away."

"You'd be surprised what others can empathize with," Clark said, arching an eyebrow.

"I have nothing left to live for," the gunman wailed as the police closed in. Tears rolled down his face as Garrison swiftly restrained him with a pair of handcuffs. He didn't even fight her. "Everything is gone. My Becca. My poor, sweet Becca. She didn't deserve this! She never hurt anyone." He looked around, seeing, as if for the first time, the body of the doctor he'd shot. "God, what have I done? I'm sorry, Becca. I'm so, so sorry."

Garrison read the man his rights as Clark turned to the nurse behind him. He knelt and offered his hand to her, but she seemed paralyzed by fear. Clark could see her shaking with silent screams and sobs.

"Hey," he said softly. "You're okay. Everything's okay. You're safe now."

But her eyes remained glued to the dead body and the still growing pool of sticky red blood that was creeping across the once white tile floor.

"Jeff! Oh, God! Not Jeff! Not my Jeff!"

Clark maneuvered himself so that he blocked her view of the doctor, guilt washing over him. He'd allowed himself to become distracted - in this case, a fatal mistake. "Come on," he said softly. "Let's get you checked out, to be sure that you aren't hurt."

She allowed him to pick her up without protest. He cradled her against his chest like a small child. He quickly bore her away from the body of what he guessed had been either her boyfriend or husband.

Now that the threat was gone, word had spread like wildfire. He was nearing the stairwell when a group of doctors in emergency room scrubs met up with him. He eased the nurse onto the stretcher they had with them and allowed them to do their job.

"Superman," Garrison called to him as two of the men in her squad led the gunman away. "I wanted to say thank you for giving us a hand."

"You're welcome. I think, underneath it all, he might actually be truly sorry for what he's done," he observed, gazing after where the police officers were loading the gunman into the elevator. "Do we know how many...?"

He didn't need to finish. "We're not one hundred percent sure. But it looks like five dead and three wounded. One critically so."

Clark nodded. "I wish I could have gotten here sooner," he said quietly.

"Thanks to you, no one else was harmed," Garrison said. "Thank you. My department owes you a debt of gratitude."

"Just glad I could help," he replied. "Is there anything else I can do?"

He secretly hoped there wasn't. With the image of the doctor's head exploding into a mist of blood and brains still so fresh in his mind, he felt like a walking disaster. Worse, he knew he'd failed not only the doctor, but the nurse who seemed to love him, as well. He needed to get away before the mask of Superman fell away and revealed the all-too human emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. Besides, he'd already been gone from the Planet for too long. He wanted desperately to get back to Lois. She needed Clark more than the hospital needed Superman now. He was relieved when Garrison shook her head.

"We can take it from here. I'm sure you're a busy man."

Clark nodded. "I'll swing by and leave my statement later, if that's okay."

Garrison nodded. "Great. I'll be there until eight. If not, you can always leave it with someone else. I'm with the forty-fifth."

He nodded again. "West Park, right?"

"That's the one."

"Great. I promise, it'll get there."

"Thanks, Superman."

He inclined his head in acknowledgement, then headed into the stairwell. He flew up the steps, to the roof, and took off into the sky. Back to the Planet he raced. Back to Lois. He hoped she wasn't fuming with his disappearance. But, he also wasn't naive. He knew she'd be livid with him. He diverted his course to pick up some of the specialty chocolates that she loved from a Swiss chocolateer in the rich upper city section of Metropolis. He bought a few pounds comprised of all of her favorites. It served to seriously lighten his wallet, but it was worth it.

Maybe I can consider it as catering to her cravings for the first time, he mused. That is, if she'll even speak to me after this.

At least the distance between the shop and the Planet could easily explain his long absence.

With no small amount of fear, he entered the building and rode the elevator up to the bullpen. At least Lois was still there, he could see. He listened to the beating of her heart in order to calm and center himself. He needed it, after the horrors in the hospital and knowing how angry she was likely going to be with him. For the first time, Clark noticed a second, tiny, much more rapid heartbeat within her as well.

"Lois?" he asked as he neared her desk.

She ignored him.

"Lois, please, talk to me," he pleaded.

She shot him a withering look.

"I know you're mad at me," he continued. "I just...it was a lot to take in. I needed some time. My head's clearer now and I want to talk about this. Please? Give me a chance?" He showed her the box of chocolates he'd purchased. "I thought..."

"That you could buy me with chocolate?" she interrupted him, her words acid.

"I thought I could start to make amends with it, yeah," he admitted. "But, more importantly, I thought we could share them while talking things out. There's a lot to discuss. Maybe we can talk over dinner tonight? I'll cook, if you want. Or I can pick up something."

Lois continued to scowl at him for a moment.

"Look, Lois, I need to you know just one thing, before we get back to work."

She reached for the chocolates and he handed them over. "What?"

"I need you to know what you're not in this alone. I'll support you, whatever you choose to do. I'll be there at your side."

The hardness in her features melted somewhat and she swallowed hard while nodding. "Thank you. But, Clark?"

"Yes?"

"I'm not sharing the chocolates."

Clark laughed. "I'll stand by your decision there too," he promised her.

That got a smile out of her. "Okay. Your place, if that's okay. Lucy's still with me and I'd rather not have her around as we talk."

"She doesn't know?"

"Oh, she does. I'd just rather be alone for this."

"I understand," Clark said. "Chicken parm okay?"

"Sounds good." Then, quickly changing topics, "There was a shooting at Met Gen."

"I know," Clark said. "I heard about it when I went to get some air and collect my thoughts. That's why it took me so long to get back."

"You went there and you managed to swing uptown for chocolates?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't hit any traffic," he said with a shrug. "Anyway, I got us the Superman exclusive."

Lois nodded. "Good. I've been trying to get an ID on the gunman, but nothing so far. LNN says the police chief is going to issue a statement at four at the courthouse."

"Looks like we've got until four to get everything else written up then," Clark said with a smile. "Superman told me everything that happened."

"Let's get to work then," Lois said.


***


"Just make yourself comfortable," Clark said as they stepped into his apartment.

The day had seemed to drag on forever. Only the hospital shooting had given them anything worth working on. And even that hadn't been much more than typing up a recount of what had transpired. The press conference hadn't offered much in the way of new information either. So the hours had crept by, slowly, torturing them both. They both longed to have the freedom to talk about Lois' pregnancy, and what they were going to do. Still, they had both stayed silent on the issue, even once they'd finished working for the day, all the way to Lois' place so that she could change into something more comfortable, and all the way to Clark's place.

Lois sat on the couch while Clark went to change his own clothes. When he was dressed in jeans and his favorite blue plaid shirt, he moved into the kitchen and began to prepare their meal. He wondered, however, even as he fried the chicken cutlets, if either of them would do much more than pick at their food. Lois joined him in the kitchen, setting the table while Clark cut slices of mozzarella, added them to the chicken and sauce, then stuck the whole thing in the oven.

They talked about everything else as the food cooked, studiously avoiding the topic of Lois' pregnancy. Clark kept checking on the food, until, at least, it was done. He took it out of the oven and set it on a trivet in the center of the table. Lois eyed the food appreciatively.

"Thanks for doing this," she finally said.

"It's no problem," Clark said. He took a spatula and used it to put a cutlet on Lois' plate. "I like being able to cook for you, Lois. And now that...well...I should probably be feeding you better food than takeout all the time."

"Clark...about that...I...I don't know what to do."

"You know you don't have to decide that right this second," he reminded her.

She nodded as she cut her meat. "I know. But, I think we need to talk about our options."

"I agree. But, ultimately, the choice is yours, you know. I won't force you to keep the baby nor will I force you to terminate the pregnancy. Like I told you at work, I'm on board with whatever it is that you decide to do. If you don't want to carry the pregnancy, I'll be right there, holding your hand when you go for the procedure. And if you choose to keep the baby, I'll be right there helping you to raise that little boy or girl."

"I just don't know what I want to do yet," Lois said before taking a bite of her food. "I never pictured myself as a mother. At least, not like this. I always thought I'd have the marriage and the house first, a Pulitzer or two under my belt. I don't even know for sure whose baby this is. I wish I could say with one hundred percent certainty that it's yours. I really do. But the timing..."

"Hey, you aren't to blame for this," he said as her lower lip began to tremble. "A large part of the blame falls on Miranda. The rest...that falls on Luthor and on me." He hated to lump himself in the same category as the billionaire, but he felt that, in this case, it was warranted. He and Luthor had both succumbed to their baser desires. The only difference was that Clark hadn't taken anything Lois hadn't freely given.

"No, Clark. You aren't to blame for this," Lois said. "If it hadn't been for Lex..."

"In any case," Clark said after taking a bite of his dinner, "I'm sure there must be ways to figure it out. At the very least, I know we can do a DNA test after the baby is born...assuming that you decide that you want to keep it. I think they might be able to test while the baby is in utero still as well, but I don't know much about it. Again, assuming that you decide you want to go through with the pregnancy."

"About that..." Lois said hesitantly. "What are your feelings? I mean, your feelings on that in general?"

Clark sighed as he tried to find a way to word it properly. In the meantime, he speared another piece of chicken and chewed thoughtfully. He swallowed and washed it down with a sip of ice water.

"You know that I'm adopted," he said at length. "So, I've always been a fan of that, if a woman doesn't feel ready to be a mother yet. A baby gets to live and a couple who might otherwise be left to a childless fate gets to have the family they've always dreamed about. That's the same reason why I've never been a fan of termination. That, and the fact that my parents always talked openly to me about their heartache in not being able to conceive. I guess, because of that, I've always been more on the side of pro-life. On the other hand, my parents taught me that a woman has every right to control her own body - what she puts into it, who she accepts into her bed and who she rejects, even the right to terminate a pregnancy." He'd been staring down at his food while he'd spoken, but now he met Lois' eyes. "So, my stance is, I will support whichever option you choose."

Lois frowned. "I don't know what to choose. I don't want to carry Lex's child. Not after the way it was conceived, if it's his. But I don't think I can kill your baby. On the other hand, I'm not sure I'm ready to be a mother right now. Then again, I don't know if I'm strong enough to carry a baby for nine months only to hand it over to someone else. I'm so confused." She pinched the bridge of her nose as though warding off a headache.

"You don't need to know tonight," Clark reminded her again. He reached over to her and took her hand. "If fact, I'd be worried about how much thought you'd put into your choice if you did make a decision tonight. There's no easy answer. There's no right answer. Only what you think will be the right choice for you. For us."

She gave him a tremulous smile. "Us. I like the sound of that. Because, honestly, I don't think I can do any of this alone, no matter what I wind up doing."

"You'll never be alone," he swore. "I can promise you that. This child...if you keep it...even if it is his, Luthor's, it will never be his child. I learned a long time ago that it doesn't matter who a person's biological parents are, or what their reasons are for not being in that person's life, it's the people who love and raise a child that are that kid's parents."

"Did you ever resent not knowing your parents?" Lois asked. "Did you ever hate them for giving you up?" She sounded scared. "If I choose to give this baby up for adoption...is it going to hate me for the rest of its life?"

"My situation was a little different," Clark said vaguely. "I was left with no note, no records, no story from an adoption agency. I never knew my parents' reasons for leaving me. It was hard and there were times, especially during those already awkward teenage years, when I wondered - why? Why had they given me up? Didn't they love me? I don't think I ever hated them though. Because I knew, if they hadn't given me up, I never would have known my true parents - Jonathan and Martha Kent."

"And now?" Lois asked, prodding him further.

"Now?" He shrugged. "It doesn't honestly cross my mind all that often. Sometimes, sure, I'll lie in bed at night or go for a walk or something, and I'll wonder what my biological parents were like. But then I'll remember that I already have the best parents I could have wished for."

Lois sighed. "You know I appreciate you saying that you'll back me up either way here. But I wish you'd...I don't know. State a solid preference or something."

"Lois, you know I can't tell you want to do," he said with a soft sigh.

"You can't just tell me that you would be one hundred percent fine with all of our options!" she argued. "I know it's not something we planned, to be faced with making a decision that is going to change our lives forever, no matter which option we choose to pursue."

"No, we didn't," he agreed.

"I'm asking you, please," Lois pleaded, "to give me a straight answer for once."

Clark fell silent as he contemplated an answer. Slowly, uncertainly, he started to speak.

"I've always wanted to be a father," he began. "For as long as I can remember, I've always dreamed about having a family of my own. A wife. Children born of my own flesh. A true, biological family. People who share my bloodline. Maybe adopt too, and give a home and love to a child who is waiting for a family of their own." He paused, contemplating the food on his plate for a moment. "Termination wouldn't be my top option," he finally admitted. "But, at the same time, I would never ask you to carry a child that you don't want to carry, just because I asked you too. It's not fair to you and it wouldn't be fair to the baby."

He took a sip of his drink before continuing. "What makes this so difficult, especially for me to take a hard stand on any single option, is the Luthor factor. What he did to you is sickening. I will not ask you to keep a baby that might be his. I can't."

"You really don't like the idea of termination, do you?" Lois asked in a small, soft voice.

Clark sighed again. "I don't love the idea," he confessed. "I understand why some women would choose it, I really do," he quickly added. "Especially those in situations like yours - where the baby might be the product of a violent attack. I swear to you though. Whatever you choose, even if it is to terminate, I will be there to support you."

Because I love you too much to do anything else, he thought to himself.

A silence fell as they both ate. Only the clinking of their utensils broke the silence. At last, Lois spoke up.

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"When you left the bullpen today..."

He cut her off gently. "I'm sorry, Lois. I didn't handle that well at all. I should have...I don't know." He gestured helplessly. He hadn't had a choice. He'd needed to get out of the newsroom.

"I had wanted to ask you...when I showed you that ultrasound picture...did you...feel anything?"

"You mean...about the pregnancy?" he asked cautiously.

"I meant...toward the baby," she said gently.

"I...I don't know," he admitted, somewhat ashamed. "The truth is, I didn't even have the time to think about it. I was too blindsided by the news. That, and knowing that there's a chance it's mine, and there's a chance that it isn't. I didn't really get a chance to feel anything toward the baby itself. Why? Do you...feel anything for it?"

Lois cast her eyes down at the uneaten portion of chicken on her plate. "Nothing." She sounded on the verge of tears. "How can I possibly be a good mother if I feel nothing toward my own baby? I don't love it. I don't hate it. I haven't embraced it. I haven't even found it within me to resent or reject it." Silver tears slid down her cheeks.

"Hey," Clark said, reaching over to wipe her tears away, "it's okay. You're still processing things. It's natural. It's not like this was planned. It's okay to take some time to absorb everything that's happening and then figure out how you feel about the baby itself, and not about the circumstances of the pregnancy. It does not mean that you won't be a good mother. All it means is that, right now, you're in shock and maybe even a little scared. Certainly overwhelmed."

"You really believe that?" She sounded as vulnerable as a child at that moment.

"I really do," he responded truthfully. "Lois, you are the strongest and most compassionate, even fiery woman that I know. The very fact that you are worried over this proves to me how much you really do care. I know you want to do what's best. For yourself, for us, for this baby."

"I feel...such guilt," she said after a moment. "I keep thinking...'how can I put Clark in this position? If, for some reason, I choose to keep this baby, how can I ruin Clark's life if it isn't his?' And that scares me."

"You aren't putting me in any position, Lois. I'm choosing to be in it. I want to be there, no matter what," Clark insisted. "You aren't ruining my life, Lois. If you decide to keep the baby, you'll be enhancing my life."

"But, if it's Lex's...?"

"It won't matter," Clark swore. "Because he will never know about the baby. He will never have any interaction with the baby. He or she won't even know who Luthor is, let alone any possible genetic link to him."

"But what if...if it is his...what if I can't love it the way it deserves? Not through any fault of its own, but because of what it would remind me of?"

Clark shook his head. "I wish I had an answer for that, Lois. I really do. All I can say is that I know you. I know how warm and loving you are. I've seen how much you care for people, even those you don't know. Regardless of who fathered this child, half of it is you. I believe that this will trump anything else. Besides," he added with a smile before he took a sip of water, "you don't have to find out who the biological father is if you don't want to."

"I guess that's true," she said unhappily, obviously still not convinced.

"Well, like I said, nothing had to be determined tonight," Clark reminded her. "For the time being, let's leave it at this: I love you and I swear that I'll be at your side, no matter what. There is nothing that will change the truth of those two things. Okay?"

"Okay," Lois said with a nod as she poked distractedly at her food with her fork.

"Can I ask one thing though?" Clark said after a moment, during which, he'd managed to eat two more bites of food.

"Sure."

"What'd Lucy say?"

That got Lois laughing. "She's torn between being ecstatic at the prospect of becoming an aunt and wanting to march down to the jail to castrate Lex."

"Can she do both?" Clark teased.

Again, she let out a laugh. It was so good to hear that beautiful sound. It meant the world to Clark that he could help lighten Lois' mood, even if only by the slightest of degrees.

"I wish," Lois agreed.



To Be Continued...





Battle On,
Deadly Chakram

"Being with you is stronger than me alone." ~ Clark Kent

"One little spark of inspiration is at the heart of all creation." ~ Figment the Dragon