Previously on Seed of Doubt...
"Not exactly," Clark said, feeling heat rise in his cheeks as he used a dustpan to pick up the glass and put it in the closest trash bin. "Can we talk? Privately?" He glanced around, even though no one else was in the room with them.
"Of course," Dr. Klein said, sitting down on the stool next to him. "Thanks for doing that, by the way." He gestured to the glass Clark had picked up. "What's on your mind?"
Clark put the broom back where he'd gotten it from and leaned a hip against the work bench. "It's kind of a personal thing."
"Whatever it is, you know I'll keep your confidence."
"I know," he said with a nod. "The thing is...you've run numerous batteries of tests on me."
"Mmm-hmm."
"You know how my body works better than anyone else on this planet."
"It's been a privilege," the doctor said, seeming to be slightly confused.
"Well, there's one thing that we've never really discussed," Clark hedged. "Something that I've been wondering about recently."
Dr. Klein furrowed his brow. "I'm nowhere near ready to experiment with the idea of a Kryptonite vaccine," he said, lowering his voice.
"Not that," Clark quickly corrected him. "Something else completely."
"Oh." Was Clark imagining it, or did Dr. Klein sound very relieved that Superman wasn't looking for the vaccine? "It's not that I haven't thought about it," the man began to ramble, "but I've been under so much stress here with the entire place being in upheaval since the department chair quit and..."
"Dr. Klein," Clark interrupted as politely as he could. "Really, I'm not here about that. I understand that it may take years before we're anywhere near ready to test that. And that's it's only a theory, not a guarantee that we'll even come up with one."
Dr. Klein took a breath and nodded. "So, then, what can I do for you today?"
"I need some more, uh, personal tests conducted. Ones that are strictly between you and me."
"That shouldn't be too difficult. Half the department is out sick with the flu, even though flu season is over. The other half is too overworked to wonder what I'm up to. What do you need?"
"Well," Clark said, rubbing the back of his neck in a very uncharacteristic move for Superman. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately."
"About?" Dr. Klein prompted when Clark didn't elaborate further.
"Well," he repeated, drawing the word out. "I'm not saying that it's something that is of immediate concern, but I want to know...if I were to date and get serious with a woman...could I...father a child? With an Earth woman, I mean."
"I...oh," the man replied, his entire face changing to reflect his shock at being asked such a question. "Are you...?"
"Just curious," Clark replied, not wanting to flat out lie to the man. "But, lately, it's been on my mind more and more."
Dr. Klein scratched the back of his neck. "It should be simple enough to find out," he reasoned, sounding like he was talking more to himself than to Clark at the moment. "I can run a few simple tests, and should have the results for you in...say...a week? In the meantime, I, uh, would recommend that you, uh, protect yourself, if you are, um, going to be, uh, intimate with anyone. Earthly diseases can't affect you but until we know more, we have to assume that you can potentially get someone pregnant."
"Sounds good," Clark said haltingly as he realized just how uncomfortable Dr. Klein was, discussing birth control with him. "What do you need from me?"
"Well, not to put too fine a point on it, I need a sample of your DNA."
"Okay," Clark said. "Let's do it then."
Dr. Klein rummaged around in a supply closet for a moment, only to emerge with a sterile cup in his hand. He gave it to Clark, who peered at it for a moment, uncomprehendingly. He'd thought a simple blood test could tell him what he needed to know.
"I'll need you to, ah, deposit a sample of your, ah, genetic material in the cup," Dr. Klein said, his face going almost fuchsia. "There's a room down the hall, third door on the left, that you can use."
"Ah...okay," Clark said, fighting hard not to blush.
This is more embarrassing than I thought it would be.
"There are some, uh, materials in there, if you need the, um, inspiration," Dr. Klein added, not making any eye contact at all. In fact, he appeared to be studying the tiles on the floor. "Magazines and movies, to be exact."
"Thanks," Clark said in as neutral a tone as he could muster.
And here I thought admitting to my folks that I might have fathered a child out of wedlock would be the worst of it, he thought with a resigned sigh as he went to produce the sample Dr. Klein required of him.
***
"Clark?" Lois asked, as she emerged from the bathroom of his apartment.
"Hey. Are you feeling any better?" he asked, though the lingering paleness in her face told him that she wasn't yet recovered.
She'd been throwing up for the better part of half an hour. She'd been feeling so miserable that she'd even kicked him out of the bathroom when he'd tried to help by rubbing her back. It was now nearly midnight.
"Whoever called this 'morning sickness' was a moron," she complained as she collapsed onto the couch beside Clark.
He immediately took her into his arms and stroked her hair with one hand. He placed a kiss on the side of her head. "I'm sorry. Do you need me to get you anything?"
"No," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Just hold me, okay?"
"I can do that," he said cheekily.
Lois glanced at the television and winced. "Your team's taking a beating, huh?"
Clark shrugged. "I expected as much. Their best guy is benched for the rest of the season with a torn rotator cuff. Was there something you'd like to watch? Because, I have to be honest, this game is brutal to watch."
Lois shrugged in turn before snuggling deeper into Clark's side. "What about the movie stations?"
Clark dutifully switched the channel, and eventually they settled on Lethal Weapon. It was great, Clark mused to himself, having a girlfriend who usually preferred action movies over sentimental, girly ones. He leaned his head against hers, resting his cheek against the top of her head.
"Clark?"
"Hmm?"
"I was wondering. I have another doctor's appointment next week. Would you...do you want to come with me?"
"Yeah," he said, lighting up in excitement. "I'd love to come."
"It's an ultrasound, so, I thought...you know."
"Lois, it could be nothing more than a consult about your morning sickness and I would be there, right beside you," he said, his words sounding like an oath.
He could see the smile in the corner of her mouth.
"Of course, you know, I'm still torn. I don't know what to do," she said after a moment. "Or, I guess, what it is that I want to do."
"I know," he said, trying to push the disappointment from his words. Not knowing if he was going to actually be a father or not was killing him inside, as every day he grew more and more accustomed to the idea of fatherhood. "I guess we can talk to your doctor about that when we're there. Our options, what kind of time frame we're looking at, whether or not we can conduct a DNA test while the baby is still in utero...if you want to, that is."
"I've thought of that. I'm not sure I want to know. I mean, shouldn't I know if I want this baby, without knowing who fathered it? What if...I don't know...the test is wrong, and I terminate it or allow it to be born and it isn't really biologically who they say it is?"
"I think the chances of that are pretty slim, Lois," Clark said.
Inwardly, however, he felt a weight lifted from his shoulders. He'd thought long and hard about the possibility of a paternity test, but the idea had terrified him. What if his very DNA was so different that it screamed 'alien' to whoever was running the test?
"Anyway, it's Monday at one."
"I'll be there, I promise."
"Thanks." She paused, then after a minute add, "You know, I'm impressed."
"By what?" Clark asked.
"Everything. I know you're a man of your word, don't get me wrong. But, still...how you've really stepped up these past few weeks...it's been so...I don't know. Reassuring? This might not even be your child, but you've been right by my side, as if it was unquestionably yours. Helping when I've been sick, covering for me at work, and now going to the doctor appointments with me. I guess...I guess part of me had been a little afraid that the chance of it being Lex's baby would send you running for the hills."
"No way," Clark said with a smile. "I've already told you, this baby is, at the very least, half you. That's what matters to me. I already consider myself the father, regardless of what a blood test can tell us."
"Still, I'm glad. It makes me feel," she paused, looking for the right word. "Lucky, I guess. And loved. And...secure. I know that sounds weird but, it makes me feel like, whatever path I chose, we'll be okay. You and me. Our relationship."
"That's because it will be okay," Clark vowed. "We'll be okay."
Lois hummed a note of acknowledgement and snuggled in closer. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Lois yawned, though she tried to stifle the sound. Clark felt her whole body shift along with the yawn. He lightly stroked her hair.
"You want to get some sleep?" he asked.
Lois nodded. "Can I stay here?"
"Of course you can."
"Will you cuddle with me for while?" she asked in an almost childlike voice.
"You mean, right here? Because we're sort of already doing that," he joked.
"In the bed," she clarified.
"Lois...are you sure?"
"Clark, I'm already pregnant. How much more trouble can we create for ourselves by snuggling innocently together in your bed?"
Clark shrugged. He couldn't deny her logic, or the fact that he'd dreamt about sleeping with her in his arms since the moment they'd met.
"Okay," he agreed. "Go get yourself ready for bed. I'll close up everything here."
As Lois moved off toward the bathroom, Clark shut the television off. He locked the door to his apartment, then moved through the living room, cleaning as he went. Empty teacups went into the sink to be washed in the morning. Open Chinese food containers went into the garbage, having sat out for too long and being too close to empty to attempt to save the remaining food. The blanket Lois had been using prior to getting sick got folded and draped over the back of the couch.
When Lois was finished in the bathroom, Clark went in. He brushed his teeth and rinsed with a minty mouthwash in anticipation of how intimately close he'd be to Lois. He changed into sleep pants and a plain white t-shirt. Normally, he'd shed everything down to his boxers and climb into bed, but he and Lois weren't quite at that place in their still-new relationship.
I'd wear a full suit of armor if that would make her comfortable, he thought as he removed a piece of lingering shrimp and broccoli from his teeth with a bit of dental floss.
Lois was waiting for him in the bed by the time he emerged from the bathroom. She was laying on her side, facing the empty space she'd left him. Clark smiled tenderly at her. She looked so tired, but she returned his smile with one of her own - the loving, private kind she reserved for him alone.
"Are you okay with that side of the bed?" she asked.
"I'm great with it."
"Because, if you prefer this side..."
He shook his head, cutting her off gently. "Really. It's perfect. I'd sleep out on the terrace if that was what would make you happy."
"I'll have to keep that in mind, just in case," she teased him. "Never know when you might be in the doghouse."
Clark chuckled as he slipped beneath the sheets. "Oh yeah? Well, who's to say that I'll ever be in the doghouse?"
Lois laughed and dragged her index finger over his chest. "Gut instinct," she said, continuing to play with him.
"Mmm," he replied, leaning in for a kiss.
"Of course," Lois said breathlessly, once they parted, "with kisses like that, I'm not sure I'll ever be mad at you for long."
"I hope so," he breathed against her lips, moving in to kiss her again.
When at last they were done kissing, Clark shut off the bedside light. Leaving his glasses on in case Lois woke before him, he cradled her against his chest, reveling in the feeling of having her in his arms. Before long, her breathing changed and became more even as she slipped into sleep. Feather-light snores followed, until she shifted in her dreams and found a more comfortable position.
For a little while, he just watched Lois sleep using only the city lights that filtered through his bedroom windows to see by. She looked so peaceful, so angelic, that it was hard for him to want to close his eyes, even though he was more than ready to slip off to dreamland himself. It was only when he felt his eyes closing of their own accord that he finally snuggled his head down into his pillow and shut his eyes. Within moments, he was whisked off to a deep, dreamless sleep.
Help!
The cry for help forced his eyes to bolt open. He felt a little dazed and disoriented at first. It was strangely new, waking up to find Lois in his arms, her dark, shoulder length hair tickling his nose. A swift glance at the bedside clock informed him that he's been asleep for roughly forty-five minutes. He listened to the night, to see if the call for aid was repeated. When it was, he gently eased Lois out of his embrace, careful not to wake or otherwise disturb her.
Quiet as any mouse, Clark slipped out of bed. He made sure Lois was sound asleep before changing into his Superman uniform. He creeped out to the terrace and took off like an arrow suddenly loosed from a bow. He found, to his relief, that the call for help was simple. A single car full of drunk teens had flipped while careening around a sharp, nearly hairpin turn on the highway just outside of the city limits. Clark easily righted the car, then ferried the young men and women to the closest hospital. A short, ten minute stop at the police department was next, where he told a sleepy Zymak about the accident. Then he was headed home.
Clark cautiously pushed the door open from the terrace. Lois' back was to him, but he could tell by the way she was still lightly snoring that she was asleep. He held his breath as he stepped first one red booted foot into the bedroom, then the other. He spun out of the suit and back into his bedclothes and eased himself back into bed. It took him a few prolonged moments to get comfortable, but he remained far from sleep. Sometimes, after a rescue, even simple, run of the mill ones like the one he'd just made, his adrenaline would be pumping, making it difficult to find sleep once again. He shifted some more, attempting to find a position that encouraged the return of his dreams.
"Clark?" Lois mumbled in a sleep-caked voice.
"Ssh, it's okay," he replied. "Go back to sleep."
He went stock still as he spoke, terrified that she might have woken as he changed clothes via the mini-twister he became when he did his spin move.
"What's going on?" she asked. "Why are you moving so much?"
"I'm having trouble sleeping," he said, knowing it wasn't a total lie. "I woke up a little while ago and now I can't fall back to sleep. I was trying to get comfortable just now. Sorry I woke you."
Lois yawned mightily. "Come here."
She flipped over so that she was facing him and threw her left arm over Clark's body. He had to admit, it did help soothe his racing thoughts, steering them away from the rescue and reminding him of how very lucky he was to have Lois in his life. She rubbed his arm for a couple of minutes, generating heat and calming his mind. He reached out and put his arm over her as well.
"Feeling better?" she asked.
"Yes," he said. "You're incredible."
"I try," she teased him with a tired smile.
"Thank you," Clark whispered, resting his forehead against hers.
"Any time." She fidgeted a minute, then disentangled herself from him. "Be right back."
Clark watched as she got out of bed and made off in the direction of the bathroom. It brought up an interesting point. How long would it be before a rescue pulled him out of bed in the middle of the night and Lois woke up to find him gone? He hoped it would be a long time in coming, but he wasn't deluded enough to really believe that. Sooner or later, it would happen. Of course, he also didn't want to assume that Lois would often be spending the night with him. He sighed and sent up a silent prayer that it wouldn't happen until after he told her the whole truth about himself.
"Back," Lois announced as she reentered the room, rubbing at her eyes and yawning.
"Come back to bed," Clark told her. "It's late. We both need some sleep."
Lois nodded. "That's for sure."
She slipped easily back into his waiting arms. Once she settled into a comfortable spot, she kissed Clark lightly on the lips. Clark kissed back, deepening the chaste touch a little further. Lois responded, sighing against his lips.
"How did I get so lucky?" she murmured against his chest afterward as they cuddled.
"I wonder the same thing every time I look at you," Clark admitted in a soft whisper. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me."
Lois reached up to touch his face. For a moment, his heart stopped beating. It almost looked like she might attempt to take his glasses off in preparation for bed. But her hand came to a merciful rest on his upturned cheek.
"So are you, Clark. I used to think I'd be pathetically alone all my life. That I'd turn into the crazy old cat lady. Only with fish. Like, tanks everywhere in my apartment. And now, well, I can't promise that I won't stop keeping fish, but I feel so...complete...having you in my life."
"I'm glad," Clark said, his voice still the same gossamer whisper in the night, "because I feel the same way about you. For various reasons, I've always been a loner. Despite friends and family, I've never really connected with anyone on a soul-deep level. That's not to say that I'm not close with anyone. Jimmy might as well be my brother, for the love I have for him. But you? You make me happy in a way I'd never known was possible. So, I thank you for that."
Lois hummed an acknowledgement before closing her eyes. "Love you," she said through a yawn.
"Love you too," Clark said, placing a kiss on her brow.
He closed his own eyes and found, hours later, that Lois had been right. Being in her arms had almost instantly allowed sleep to claim him.
***
"Lois?"
"Right here," she replied, standing from her seat.
"Come with me please."
The nurse led Lois beyond the waiting room door and into the maze of offices and examination rooms. Clark followed in her wake, his finger wedged in his book to mark his place until he could find a slip of paper to act as a bookmark. They eventually wound up in a small, cheerfully painted lilac room. The nurse got straight to work, taking Lois' weight and blood pressure, marking it down in the chart she carried with her. Then she ushered Lois off to the bathroom so that a urine sample could be collected to test for potential issues with the pregnancy.
While Lois was gone, Clark took a minute to look around the examination room. A new looking, portable ultrasound machine stood in one corner. The monitor was on and blank. Posters covered the wall. The largest depicted an illustrated woman standing sideways and drawn so that her insides could be seen, a head-down baby positioned perfectly for her to give birth. Organs were labeled. Even the fetus and all of his accompanying items were labeled - placenta, umbilical cord, amniotic fluid. A second poster, slightly smaller than the first, showed the same woman during the different months of the pregnancy, as the child within developed and grew larger.
Other glossy posters listed the benefits breastfeeding, things to avoid eating and doing while pregnant, the signs of post-partum depression. Clark read them all at super speed, committing the information to his nearly flawless memory. He was just skimming the information sheet about car seats when Lois returned. She gave him a nervous half smile, which he returned.
"The doctor will be in shortly," the nurse said as she closed the door behind her.
Ten minutes later, there was a light sound of knuckles rapping against the wooden door. A moment later, it opened to reveal a tall, skinny woman in a white lab coat. She introduced herself to Clark as Dr. Lauren Prescott, then asked Lois how she was feeling.
"Some morning...well, all day sickness," Lois said. "It comes and goes, never at the same time, but usually lasting an hour or less."
"Good," the doctor said, nodding. "Any discomfort, pain, or bleeding?"
"No," Lois said, shaking her head.
"Anything at all out of the ordinary?"
"Nope."
"Okay then. We'll just have a peek at your baby today and see how he or she is doing. We'll do a quick measurement and check the heartbeat."
"We'll actually see it?" Clark asked, surprised.
Dr. Prescott nodded. "You sure will."
"Will we be able to see if it's a boy or girl?" he asked.
"Not yet. We're still a few weeks too early for that. Lois? Just lay back here and lift your shirt up. We warm the gel, so it should be nice and comfortable for you."
Lois did as she was bid, rolling her shirt up to just below her breasts. The doctor squirted a generous dollop of gel on her bare and barely protruding belly, then pressed the ultrasound wand to her skin. She expertly found the baby, who seemed to be doing gymnastics within the dark confines of its home. Clark heard Lois' breath hitch as she looked upon the tiny being that was growing inside of her.
Clark was in awe. It was one thing to look at illustrations showing the stages of growth and development. It was another to see the marked difference in size and even the form of the baby in person. The first ultrasound images Lois had shown to him were merely white blobs floating in a sea of black, surrounded further still by a grainy gray sea that represented the rest of Lois' uterus. Now, however, arms and legs were moving, clear as day. He could easily see the baby's head as the child twisted and turned, almost somersaulting in that perfect darkness.
"Wow," he breathed in a reverent tone.
My baby.
"Yeah," Lois repeated, sounding a little dazed. He couldn't tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing though.
A perfectly formed human being. There are arms and legs. Feet. Fingers.
He said nothing of this to Lois. He knew she still didn't know if she wanted to keep the baby and he refused to pressure her in any way. As he was having those thoughts, however, the doctor moved the ultrasound wand slightly, to get a better view of the beautiful flickering that was the baby's heart. She pressed a button, focused in on the flickering, then, pressing a different button, switched to sound. In the next second, the rhythmic but fast sound of the heart beat filled the room.
Clark tried his best to appear stunned. The truth was, he'd snuck in a listen with his super hearing on more than one occasion. It had been, in part, his way to reassure himself that the baby was still living and growing. It had also been, for the greater part, his way of trying to get to know that child before he or she could be born, if they would be born at all.
"Very strong," the doctor commented. "Now, let's get a few measurements."
She worked deftly, but the baby was so hyper and squirmy that she had a hard time capturing some of the measurements she needed. Still, she remained patient and laughed it off.
"Quite the little acrobat," she observed at one point. "Hold still, little one. There we go. And....got it. Looks good."
Throughout it all, Lois said barely a word. Clark was torn between checking her reactions and wanting to watch every second of the baby's antics in the screen before him. He ultimately pulled his eyes from the screen to look at Lois. She was laying on the table almost completely motionless, her expression completely neutral and utterly unreadable. He gave her hand a little squeeze as he sat there next to her, but even then, she barely acknowledged his presence.
"Okay, we're all set here. You can towel off and sit up," Dr. Prescott said, handing Lois a thin hospital-grade towel. Lois methodically rubbed the goop off her stomach. "Do we have any questions today?"
Lois and Clark exchanged a look as Lois abandoned the table for one of the regular chairs in the room. Clark nodded slightly, letting Lois take the lead.
"Yes, actually," she finally said. "We have a few questions."
"Go right head, as many questions as you can think of," the doctor encouraged her with a sincere smile.
"Well," Lois began in halting tones, "you might remember from last time that this wasn't exactly a planned pregnancy."
"I remember the situation," Dr. Prescott said, nodding as she skimmed her notes with a speed that rivaled Superman. "Two possible fathers, correct?"
"Right," Lois confirmed. "The thing is...not to put too fine a point on it, but I'm not entirely sure I want to keep this pregnancy. So, what's the procedure for that?"
"Well," said the doctor, reaching for a booklet from a wall-mounted shelf and handing it to Lois. "We'll schedule you for an appointment at the hospital. You'll undergo anesthesia, and the fetus will be removed from your body, along with the placenta. We dispose of the remains. New Troy state law does mandate that it be done before twenty weeks, however. So, while I won't pressure you, you will have to decide fairly soon, though you do have some time to think about it."
"And if I choose to keep the baby? How can I know for certain who the father is? Do I have to wait until it's born?"
Dr. Prescott shook her head. "No. We can run certain tests while the fetus is still in utero to test the DNA. Since you know for sure that it's one of two men, we can just test Clark here. If he's not a match, then you know it's the other man."
"And how, exactly, is that done?" Clark asked.
"The best way right now is through an amniocentesis. We use a ultrasound machine to guide a large needle," she approximated the length with her hands, "in through the abdominal wall, into the uterus, and into the sac surrounding the baby. We draw out some of the fluid, in which there are shed skin cells, and run the tests on that. For you, we can run it through blood, a cheek swab, even a lock of your hair."
"And is there a time limit on that as well?" Lois asked before Clark could voice the same question.
"It would need to be scheduled and performed between weeks fifteen and twenty. So, about the same as a termination. We can go later, but I personally don't like to do them much later than that."
"What about the risks?" Clark asked, not caring about whatever reasons the doctor had for steering away from testing in the later part of pregnancy. "To Lois and to the baby, I mean."
"There's a risk of bleeding, leaking of amniotic fluid, and cramping," the doctor explained. "There is also a slight risk of miscarriage. About one percent. But, we can also run tests to look for genetic diseases while we run the paternity test. We'll look for things like Down's Syndrome and cystic fibrosis, as well as any others that the baby may be at risk for, given your family histories. Actually, we can fill out the family history for you now, Clark. We already have Lois'."
"I don't have any knowledge of what my family history is like," he said vaguely. "I never knew my biological parents. I was adopted as an infant by my parents after I was left on their doorstep."
"Oh," the doctor said, blushing a little in embarrassment. "I didn't mean..."
"It's fine," Clark said, waving off her concerns. "It's never really been that big of a deal for me."
"Any other questions?" the woman asked, clearly trying to change the subject after her gaffe.
Lois shrugged, looking slightly overwhelmed. "I can't think of anything."
"Okay," the doctor said, nodding and scribbling a note in the chart. She handed Lois a slip of paper to give to the receptionist. "This is for your next appointment. Give it to Trisha. She'll get you all set. If you decide on testing or termination, give us a call and we'll get that set for you. In the meantime, feel free to give us a call if you have any other concerns or questions. Someone will always get back to you in a timely manner, I promise."
"So, there's nothing to worry about? With the baby?" Clark asked.
"Everything looks perfect, don't worry."
But, I do worry, he thought to himself. For the baby and for Lois.
***
Clark landed with a whoosh. He saw that he was just in time. The man he sought was about to leave. But at the familiar sound and rush of air that accompanied Superman's takeoffs and landings, he stopped and turned around, his keys still dangling from his fingertips.
"Superman!"
"Dr. Klein," Clark greeted him warmly. "I was wondering if we might be able to talk?" It started as a statement, but tapered off into a question, subtly informing the man of the sensitive nature of the coming discussion.
"Of course." Dr. Klein stuck his keys in his pocket and gestured. "This way."
"I'm sorry to keep you so late," Clark apologized. "I know you're probably looking forward to getting home."
Dr. Klein shrugged. "Actually, I'm in no rush. Here. Let's sit."
Clark obliged, sitting on the cold metal bench at the furthest end of the S.T.A.R. Labs building. He pulled his cape slightly around him, trying to make himself comfortable. Dr. Klein sat down next to him, but didn't look at Clark at all.
"I'm assuming you came to ask about your test results."
Clark swallowed hard, nodding. "Yes. If they're ready, of course. I know you said it could take some time, but it's been over a week. So, I figured..." He shrugged.
"Oh, they're ready," Dr. Klein said, his voice almost void of emotion. "I finished up my testing a day or two ago. I wasn't sure how best to contact you, but figured you'd probably stop by."
"And?" Clark prodded gently, already knowing that they wouldn't be good. "What did the results say?"
"Well," the man said, taking a big breath and letting it out slowly, "as I expected, they were wildly different from a regular person's. The basics were the same. Shape, numbers, the ability to swim. Everything looked great at first glance. If you were a regular guy, I would have stopped there and proclaimed you to be healthy and fertile."
"But?" Clark asked, trying not to let on how low his heart had sunk.
"Because of your unique background, I delved a little deeper. Actually, a lot deeper. I took things down to the very DNA they carried. What I saw there..."
He went silent as a few of the late shift scientists walked by, coming from a small side parking lot. He and Clark nodded amiably at the foursome as they passed the bench, and received nods and smiles in return.
"It wasn't good news, was it?" Clark asked in a quiet voice as the group moved out of earshot.
"I'm afraid not," the man replied, sounding miserable and possibly close to tears, but he didn't elaborate.
"Dr. Klein?" Clark asked, putting a light hand on the man's shoulder in order to try and get the doctor to look at him. It worked. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"I know. It's just...well...you're...well...you. And I don't want to, you know." He gestured vaguely. "You don't deserve what I have to tell you."
"It's okay. I can handle it," Clark said, putting on the most convincing smile he could muster while his heart quietly broke. "Just tell me. Please."
"Well, as I said, I started to look at the structure of your DNA. It was fascinating. I've never seen anything quite like it before. Part of me has wondered if studying it further might not unlock the secrets of how your powers work and why Kryptonite affects you. But, as far as compatibility for reproductive purposes..." He gulped, taking a deep breath and studying the sidewalk before plunging on. "I'm sorry, Superman. Your DNA is just too different than that of an Earthling. I'm afraid that it's not possible for you to father a child with an Earth woman."
Clark had been expecting bad news, and had even been aware of this exact possibility. But to hear it confirmed shattered his already wounded heart. The broken shards seemed to stab at the rest of his body as his world crumbled.
"Are..." he asked, pausing to swallow back his hurt and attempt to maintain Superman's well-defined neutrality. He tried to subtly clear his throat. "Are you sure?"
"Almost certainly."
"Almost?" Clark asked, wanting to see some glimmer for hope in that one word. "What do you mean by almost? Is there some chance...?"
Dr. Klein sighed and rubbed at his temples for a few seconds. "You have to understand, this is all untested speculation. But, there were some similarities to a regular person's DNA. I ran some numbers last night, actually. Just to see if there was any way I could give you good news."
"And?"
"And, the best I could come up with was a trillion to one shot of conception occurring, even if you went high tech and used in vitro to aid you."
"A trillion to one," Clark echoed, his voice flat.
Dr. Klein nodded sadly. "I wish I had better news. I'm so sorry."
Clark shook his head, dazed. "No, don't be. It's not your fault. If anything, I'm glad that you were able to come up with any results at all. And I'm glad you gave it to me straight."
"I know it's not the news you'd hoped to hear."
"I don't think any man would," Clark said, doing his best not to show how much the results had killed him inside. "Let me ask...this trillion to one shot. How...how would that even...? He paused, uncertain how to phrase the question he wanted to ask.
"How would it happen?" the doctor supplied. He sighed again. "Truthfully, I'm not even sure. Maybe just the perfect storm of conditions between your genetic material and that of the woman you'd want to have a child with. Or maybe that trillion to one is just a false hope. I honestly don't know. I wish I did."
"What about exposure to Kryptonite?" Clark asked in a low voice, though no one was nearby.
"What about it?"
"Could it...affect things?"
"Probably not," Dr. Klein said, looking down at his own lap. "It affects your body, sure, but it doesn't alter your DNA. I tried exposing some of the sample you left to a small shard of the rock. I wanted to cover any and all theories I could come up with, or that I thought you might ask about. All it did was hasten the rate at which the sample died off."
"I see." Again, Clark felt his body deflate further with the worsening news.
"I'm so, so sorry," the doctor repeated. "I feel just awful, having to give you this news."
"I...uh...I guess I expected this, in a way," Clark confided. "After all, I'm not human. It stands to reason that I wouldn't be compatible with humans. Just like my blood is similar, but different enough that I could never donate it or receive a transfusion. It's just...one of those things." This time, he failed to stop the remorse from showing in his voice as he finished speaking.
"If there was anything I could do to change things or find...I don't know...some way to alter things so you had better odds, you know that I would. The world needs more people like you," Dr. Klein said miserably.
Clark nodded, his mind in a fog. "Thanks, Doc. I appreciate it." He stood and Dr. Klein followed suit. "Again, I appreciate your help and discretion with such a sensitive, personal issue." He extended a hand.
Dr. Klein took his hand and shook it. "Any time. I'm always happy to help, when I can. I just wish I actually could help you in this case."
"You have," Clark said. "Anyway, I should probably go. You'll be wanting to get home, at the very least. Goodnight, Doc."
"Goodnight, Superman," the doctor said.
Clark silently rose into the dark sky, trading the company of Dr. Klein for the loneliness of the upper atmosphere of the Earth, far above where any plane would dare to go. He wanted no distractions. He didn't want to have to think about avoiding skyscrapers or birds or planes. He just wanted to be alone. He barely even wanted to think.
But his thoughts wouldn't be quelled, no matter what he did.
A trillion to one, his mind screamed at him. A trillion to one. Why did you even bother to entertain the idea that this baby could be yours? You knew the odds would likely be slim to none. You're an alien, you fool! What gave you the hope that you could ever father a child with Lois?
Because, some other, inner voice countered, I love her. Because I believe that our love can overcome any obstacle. Because I so desperately wanted this baby to be mine and not Luthor's, for the sake of that child and for Lois.
Idiot! the first voice sneered at him. Fool! Wanting something doesn't mean it will come true. You're hopeless, Clark.
Maybe so, the second voice shot back as Clark rocketed into that peaceful place between the stars and the Earth, but a trillion to one means that there is a remote chance that it could be mine. No matter what though, I will be that child's father.
"A trillion to one," Clark said aloud, though in the cold vacuum of space, he couldn't hear his own voice.
It was as empty and lifeless around him as the hope he was trying to cling to.
To Be Continued...
