As dark and depressing as the outside of Arkham Asylum had been, nothing had prepared Lois for the way the inside of the facility made her feel. There was nothing overly wrong with the place as she looked around. It was clean, modern, well-kept, and the doctors and nurses she came across seemed normal enough. But there was something in the air, a feeling that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something that made her hackles rise and bile froth into the back of her throat. Pinpricks of gooseflesh broke out down her arms and she felt indescribably cold, though the interior of the asylum was kept comfortable – neither too hot nor too cold. Her stomach roiled and it took a lot of effort for her to shove aside the instinct to vomit and run from the place.
Lois silently padded along after Commissioner Gordon. Everywhere they went, Lois felt eyes on her. Hostile eyes – from locked patient doors and the medical staff alike. Indifferent eyes – glassed over under the heavy shroud of sedative medications. Curious eyes that clearly asked without words who these unknown and unexpected visitors were. Pleading eyes that silently begged to be released from this place.
Lois was no stranger to being scrutinized, but somehow, in the asylum, her usually thick skin just wasn’t there. Every stare bored into her very soul and gave her the creeps, though she knew the patients were locked away and unable to threaten her safety in any way. And even if one did, somehow, break free from their tiny, cell-like rooms, the contingent of uniformed police officers surrounding her would stop any would-be assailants in their tracks. Still, even with that knowledge, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling she had.
“Where’s Clark?” she whispered to Henderson as she glanced from side to side, checking every visible face in every visible window in every locked door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Clark’s familiar face.
“Not on this level,” Commissioner Gordon darkly said as he strode across down the hall to the elevators.
“Higher up?” Lois guessed.
The Commissioner shook his head. “The lowest floor. Where they keep the…uh…criminally insane.”
Lois stopped dead in her tracks and blinked in surprise. It was as if the commissioner’s words had physically slapped her in the face. “The criminally insane?” she practically screeched.
“Shh!” Henderson warned with a finger to his lips. “Lois! Please!”
“Oh, get off your high horse, Bill!” Lois hissed in a dangerous whisper. “Clark? Classified as criminally insane? That doesn’t seem wrong to you?”
“Of course it does, but there’s no sense in yelling about it,” Henderson replied. “We can’t change what happened. All we can do is get downstairs, bust Clark out of here, and figure out what happened while the Gotham PD deals with the rest of the accusations against this place.”
“We still don’t know that Clark didn’t…do…something to deserve being here,” Commissioner Gordon carefully reminded them.
“Clark would never do something to deserve being locked up in this hellhole,” Lois snapped back with certainty. It was a tremendous effort not to rip the policeman’s head clean off his shoulders.
“We’ll see,” was the only reply before the group once again began to move.
In another minute, they reached the elevators. One of the officers, a woman with J. Parson on her badge, hit the call button and within seconds, the doors slid open. Lois pushed her way forward to board the car first. Caution no longer mattered now that she was this close to seeing Clark again. She could practically hear Henderson rolling his eyes behind her head, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was to get to Clark and rescue him from this well-polished prison.
She didn’t have to wait long. As soon as Commissioner Gordon stepped onto the car, he pressed the correct button, then selected the door close button. In just a few heartbeats, they were on their way. And half a minute later, the car came to a stop and the doors opened again into a harshly lit hallway. Above her, the fluorescent lights buzzed incessantly, a fact that would have driven Lois crazy any other time. But not now. Now, she hardly even noticed the annoying sound.
Down here, the air was colder than up above and, though the hallway was impossibly bright, the windows set into the cell doors – smaller than the ones on the main floor, Lois distractedly noticed - seemed to be darker than normal. The doors looked more worn here as well and far thicker – she could see evidence of painted-over rust spots, scratches, dents, and age. The walls were cinder block as opposed to the typical sheetrock she’d seen when she’d first walked into the asylum. There was a vague sense of dampness too – not enough to make anything she brushed her fingertips against wet, but it did give her a general sense of suffocation.
And the prisoners!
Whereas those on the main floor had been mostly quiet for one reason or another, those locked away in this underground section of the building were rowdy, loud, animalistic, and lewd. Lois did her best to ignore them.
“There,” Commissioner Gordon said, pointing down the hall. “The very last cell.”
It would have been hard to miss. No less than four armed officers stood guard – two flanking the open door on either side. The cell beyond was completely dark and the fluorescent light in the hallway had clearly burned out and had never been replaced. It was as if Clark’s cell was meant to be forgotten in the shadows.
Lois took off down the hall at a sprint, nearly crashing into the EMT who was just emerging from the cell. She didn’t spare a breath to apologize as she vaulted around him and into the cramped, dark cell where Clark waited for her. She was moving so fast that she barely caught a glance at the man in the cell before she launched herself at Clark, engulfing him in a tight embrace. Her tears came then – great heaving sobs as all her pent-up fears and frustration and all the long years of missing him came rushing to the surface like an erupting volcano. But the man she was hugging didn’t react other than to stiffen up slightly at her touch. He didn’t speak. He didn’t make a move to hug her back. He didn’t make a single sound.
How long Lois hugged him, she didn’t know. But, eventually, she pulled away to study him. And what she saw broke her heart all over again.
Though Clark looked much the same as he had the last time she’d seen him, a little over twenty years prior, everything about him was different. He was paler than Death and had a vacant look that went far beyond simple confusion. His eyes were dull and lifeless, as though his mind had been switched off to leave a great nothingness behind. He barely even blinked at her, and when he did, it was ponderously slow and only drove home how little was going on in his head.
And he was thin. Painfully, skeletally thin. His arms, visible beneath his t-shirt, were little more than bones with a fragile patina of skin covering them. His cheeks were sunken in and hollow. His glasses were missing and his hair was long and unkempt. His hands…Lois winced as she noted how gnarled and deformed they appeared.
“Oh, Clark,” she said, taking his face in her hands, smoothing away the new wrinkles that had formed over his features during his years of captivity.
Clark stiffened again and pulled away slightly, as if her touch burned.
“What’s wrong? It’s me, Lois. Don’t you remember me, Clark?” she asked pleadingly.
Again, his face changed ever so slightly, but the look he now bore was one of haunted terror.
“Clark? What’s the matter?”
Confusion mixed in with his fear, as though he couldn’t comprehend his own name.
“No…he’s afraid of his name,” Lois murmured to herself. “But…why?” She looked over her shoulder to see Commissioner Gordon entering the room. “What’s happened to him?” she demanded. “He doesn’t seem to know his own name. Or, maybe more accurately, he’s afraid of it.”
“What makes you say that?” the man asked, peering more closely at Clark.
“Clark?” Lois asked softly, as a way to illustrate her point.
Clark – or what was left of him – instantly gave her a look of desperate fear as he flinched away, though he never spoke a word. Lois reached out to him and stroked his arm.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to save you. I promise,” she told him.
“Commissioner? I found something you need to see,” said one of the other officers, sticking his head into the cell.
“What is it?” Commissioner Gordon asked with a scant glance backward, his gaze mostly fixated on the broken man before them.
“The medical file. It took some doing. This guy’s name isn’t even on it. We had to do a lot of digging to figure out who it belongs to,” the man explained, waving the thin file like a prize before him.
Lois looked sharply away from Clark and her mouth dropped open. There was no telling how long Clark had been locked away from the world in this depressing little cell, but the slimness of his file shocked her nonetheless.
“That’s it?” she barked, making the officer blink in surprise.
He shrugged indifferently, trying to regain his composure. Lois scowled at him. “We’re lucky we found even this much, lady,” he said in a thick Brooklyn accent.
Lois noted the man’s name – T. Williams. She made a mental promise to herself to complain about his attitude to Commissioner Gordon later. But right now, her focus had to be on Clark.
“What did they do to him?” she asked, swallowing down the lump of righteous rage against the policeman with great difficulty.
Officer Williams handed the slim folder to the commissioner, who opened the file and began to read. Lois resisted the urge to rip the folder from his fingers to read it herself.
“Says here that he was admitted by an unknown man. Apparently, his – that is to say, Clark’s – identity was…and remains…unknown as well. But when he was admitted, he was, and I quote, ‘stark, raving mad, insisting that he was Superman’ and that ‘no amount of talk therapy could purge such illusions from his mind.’ It goes on to say that ‘more drastic measures may be needed.’” Commissioner Gordon went silent a moment as his eyes darted back and forth, raking across the page with a speed Lois had only ever seen from Clark before.
“They did something to his mind,” she said, more to herself than to anyone else.
“Indeed,” Commissioner Gordon said, a tremble creeping into his voice. “Lois, look. I’m no doctor. I think, before I say anything else, I’d be more comfortable having a doctor look over the file. The EMTs can only do so much, you know?”
Reluctantly, Lois nodded. “Dr. Klein in Metropolis,” she immediately offered, knowing that, if anyone could be trusted with Clark’s secret and his health, it was him. After all, Dr. Klein was the only one who’d ever worked as closely with Superman as he had.
Still, she had to wonder what Commissioner Gordon wasn’t telling her. Or could it be that he wasn’t entirely sure what the various terminologies written in the file meant? Next to her, Clark looked blankly on.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she demanded after a moment.
Commissioner Gordon closed the file and removed his glasses. He rubbed at his eyes a moment before answering. “I’m not entirely comfortable trying to decipher the file,” he finally said. “There are terms in here that I’m not familiar with. And some that…I’m not sure I’m interpreting them correctly. And even if I was, I’m certain that I can’t answer the questions I know you’ll have. Dr. Klein is in a better position to answer your questions than I am.” He used his shirt to wipe a spot off one of his lenses. “We’ll arrange for Clark to be taken to him with as much speed as we can muster.”
“Is he…okay to travel?” Lois asked worriedly, looking at how heartbreakingly frail Clark looked.
“We’ll double-check with the EMTs, obviously, but as long as he gets the green-light, we’ll get him to Metropolis,” Commissioner Gordon assured her.
“Hear that, Clark? You’re going home to Metropolis,” Lois told her long lost best friend in a whisper-soft voice.
He shrank from her in response and she mentally kicked herself for using his name. It was clear some kind of trauma was associated with his name and she didn’t want to cause him any more harm than he’d already suffered through. And yet, she knew she’d never be able to prevent herself from saying his name. She had to restore it to him, to make him be able to hear it without resorting to fear.
She took his hand in hers and gave him a reassuring squeeze. He tensed under her touch, but she was determined to show him that she was there to help and support him, not hurt him. She refused to remove her hand from him.
“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” she promised, her voice baby-soft. “I just want to help. I don’t know how much you can remember, but we were best friends. We still are,” she continued, letting her own inner tension bleed out into a babble. Maybe, if she spoke enough, Clark would remember. He always used to tease her good-naturedly about her babbling. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you again. And your mother! She’s going to be over the moon that you’ve been found. Can you remember her?” She had to bite her tongue against calling him Clark.
Clark looked at her blankly, not reacting at all beyond a blank stare.
“Please, none of the doctors or nurses are around. If this is an act, you can drop it,” Lois pleaded, knowing it wasn’t an act. “No one is going to hurt you. If you’re able to speak, please, tell us what you’ve been through.” A single tear leaked from her eye and raced down her cheek.
She half expected Clark to reach out and wipe away the tear with the gentle brushing of his thumb over her cheek, the way he had in the past. But he seemed to be completely unaware of the fact that she was crying. That, more than anything, convinced her that her friend might truly be gone for good, and her tears came harder.
“Lois?” Henderson asked, concerned.
Lois waved away the question, not wanting to lie through her teeth and say that she was okay. “Just get the damn EMT to sign off on Clark’s transport,” she growled. Then she stood up from the rickety cot in Clark’s cell and helped him to stand as well. “Can you walk?” she asked, not expecting an answer.
Slowly, shakily, Clark got to his feet. Lois ducked under his armpit and eased some of his body weight onto herself so that she could support him. He felt feather-light in her arms, a far cry from the solid mass of muscle she’d once know him to be.
“Where do you think you’re going? The EMT hasn’t said…” Commissioner Gordon began before Lois cut him off.
“I’m getting him out of this building,” she replied, her tongue lashing out the words like a whip. “You don’t like it? Arrest me,” she challenged.
“We don’t know the extent of any injuries he might have,” came the man’s defense.
But Lois wasn’t listening. She helped Clark to stumble his way out of the cell, all the while wondering when was the last time he’d been outside of that cramped, crypt-like little room. Clark was weak but still stronger than Lois had anticipated. He continued walking and seemed to need to rely on her help far less than she’d thought he would. He made it all the way to the elevator before the doors opened, revealing the EMT Lois had nearly crashed into earlier. This time, the man was wheeling a gurney before him.
“Stop,” the EMT commanded, blocking the way to the elevator.
She had no choice but to listen. Clark silently followed her lead.
“Here,” the EMT said, a little kinder this time. “Let’s get him up on the bed. He’ll be safer that way.”
“So long as we get out of this building,” Lois replied with a shrug. “I don’t want him in here a second longer than need be.”
The EMT mutely nodded as he helped Clark onto the gurney. Then he expertly strapped Clark down, ensuring that the restraints were snug but not oppressively tight. In the next minute, the three were heading back to the main floor, leaving Henderson and the commissioner to wait for the elevator to return for them. Lois felt different once they reached the main floor. The creepy feeling she’d experienced on the way in had morphed into an overwhelming sense that the place was demonic. She prayed that the inevitable investigation into the facility would see everyone involved in running the place arrested and the asylum itself shut down.
It was a relief when they finally stepped back out into the frigid, but bright outdoors. Clark shut his eyes against the sunlight as though it pained him greatly, sending a jolt of worry through Lois. From everything Clark’s parents had told her on the night they’d divulged their son’s secret in desperation to Lois, the sunlight healed him and fueled his powers. To see him looking as though it hurt him to be in the sun was more than a little distressing.
How long has it been since he’s last seen the sun? she wondered as her heart shattered.
Clark seemed to huddle into the blanket that had been thrown over his restraints as though wanting to hide from the sun’s luminous afternoon rays. He shivered against the cold and that too hammered home just how much was wrong with him. His Kryptonian genetics should have made him immune to the freezing temperature.
The EMT wheeled him over to one of the ambulances parked nearby. He threw open the rear double doors and started to load the gurney – and Clark – inside. Clark seemed oblivious to this new development.
“I’m coming with him,” Lois informed the EMT.
“Suit yourself,” the man replied. “Just stay off to the side and don’t get in the way.”
“Lois?” Commissioner Gordon called, running up to the ambulance.
“I’m going with Clark. I’ll let you know more once I get some answers,” she promised.
“Take this.” He handed her Clark’s medical file.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “And thank you for finding Clark for me.” She looked at Henderson. “What about you, Bill?”
“I have a few things to square away here, then I’ll head back to the city,” he told her. “Just do me one favor?”
“Yeah?”
Henderson cracked a barely-there smile. “Take good care of Clark, okay?”
Lois smiled wistfully in return. “I swear it.”
“Good.” Henderson patted the side of the ambulance, signaling that he was finished speaking.
The EMT quickly shut and secured the doors, then he called out for the driver to start moving. Lois watched in fascination and dread as the EMT checked Clark over again and started an IV drip to help replace some of Clark’s fluids. Perhaps it would give him nutrients too, Lois thought, uncomfortable with the fact that she knew next to nothing about medicine, despite having a surgeon for a father and a nurse for a mother. The EMT hung a second bag – possibly antibiotics – but Lois couldn’t be one hundred percent sure what it contained.
The IV had her on edge. If Clark’s body started to gain back its invulnerability during the ride to Metropolis, things could go from bad to worse. How would she explain the situation without completely blowing Clark’s secret?
No, she told herself as she tried to calm her racing heart and the terror zipping through her veins. He’s barely had any sunlight. There’s really only the front windshield and doors that have windows. There’s no way he’ll get enough sun to heal. Besides, there’s no telling how long he’s been locked away underground. Or…is there?
Her eyes shot to the file Commissioner Gordon had entrusted her with. She opened it up and scanned it.
Admission date….admission date…ah, there. June 9, 2003. Almost ten years to the day that he went missing. Oh, God, she realized with fresh horror, he’s been in this hellhole for ten years!
As her heart sank, she felt the ambulance lurch into motion. After twenty years, Clark was finally going home.
To Be Continued…
