Christmas Eve morning dawned bleak and overcast, the clouds above swollen and heavy with a great weight of snow that threatened to break at any moment, though the forecast predicted the flakes wouldn’t start to fall until after midnight. Lois was up with the sun, or would have been had there been any sun to get up with. With all that had been going on, she’d been neglecting to clean her home, so she took advantage of the quiet while Martha and Clark slept to pick up the odds and ends that had been left around, dusting as she went, and running the vacuum as swiftly as she could to minimize the noise. By the time Clark lumbered his slow way down the steps, the house was spotless and Lois, though a little tired, felt accomplished and happy.
“Merry Christmas,” she told Clark as he shuffled his way to the breakfast nook, followed by Martha. “Well…Merry Christmas Eve,” she corrected, knowing he would have corrected her if he’d been in his right mind.
“Merry Christmas Eve,” Martha replied on Clark’s behalf.
“I have to take Clark over to S.T.A.R. Labs this morning before Lucy and everyone else arrives. Did you want to come?” Lois offered, already knowing Martha would accept. “Aside from the obvious of Clark being your son, I’d like for you to meet Dr. Klein.”
Martha nodded. “I’d like that.”
“Great,” Lois said, mustering up some enthusiasm, though her stomach was tied in tight knots of worry over what Dr. Klein would have to say when they got there. “I’ll whip us up a couple of bagels, then we’ll get going.”
Within forty-five minutes, the three were in the car and on their way. Everyone was silent on the drive – Clark because he’d yet to find his voice, Martha because she sat entertaining her own thoughts and fears in her mind – as evidenced by the way she sat ramrod straight, looking dead ahead, and picking absently at her fingernails - and Lois because she was too nervous to put words to her feelings. And even if she had been able to vocalize her thoughts, it wouldn’t have helped anyone. It wouldn’t have made her any less nervous, nor would it have been of any benefit to Martha or Clark.
Clark.
Did he even comprehend what was going on around him? Did he know how much of himself had been lost?
She took a deep breath and sighed to herself.
I’d give up half of my own memories just to bring back some of his, she thought miserably. I just want to see a spark of the old Clark back. If I can find that spark, I know I can bring him back.
“There’s the building,” Lois said aloud, pointing to Martha’s passenger side window. “The parking lot is around the side.”
With practiced ease, she pulled into the lot and into the first available space. Dr. Klein had been kind enough to furnish her with a temporary handicapped parking placard for the car, so Clark wouldn’t have to make his potentially painful limping walk across too great a distance. Once she was parked, she hopped out of the driver’s seat and helped Clark get out of the back. It broke her heart anew to have to help him the way she was; not because she didn’t like helping him – she’d fly to the moon and back again if it would do him some good – but because she was struck – again – with how mostly helpless he was.
“Come on, lean on me if you need to,” she coaxed, but he simply started to shamble alongside her.
Maybe there’s a piece of him that’s still there after all, Lois thought as she watched him from the corner of her eye. That refusal to be beaten down. But even as she thought it, another, more sobering theory occurred to her. Or maybe he’s just still too used to fending for himself and not being able to rely on the help of others.
They made it inside the building without incident, and the security guard merely nodded to her as she walked into the lobby. Daryl knew her by sight from the numerous trips she’d made to S.T.A.R. Labs over the years as she consulted with one scientist or another – usually Dr. Klein though – on research she was doing within the bounds of an investigation
.
“Here to see Bernie?” the man asking knowingly.
“Guilty as charged,” Lois said, mustering up a smile that she knew didn’t touch her eyes.
“You know where to find him, Miss Lane,” Daryl said, and at least his smile was real. His eyes slid over to Martha and Clark. “They with you?” he asked.
Lois nodded. “They’re the reason we’re here to see Dr. Klein,” she confirmed.
Daryl printed off three “Visitor” badges for them and logged them in his system. Lois helped Clark affix the sticker to the front of his blue flannel shirt and was thankful that he wasn’t fiddling with the now unfamiliar feel of his fool’s glasses to keep up appearances. She thanked the guard, then herded everyone to the elevators and to Dr. Klein’s office.
Dr. Klein was staring intently at some reddish-pink liquid in a beaker when she knocked on his open door. For a moment, she thought he was going to spill it as he spooked, but, to his credit, he regained his composure and kept the beaker firmly in hand.
“Lois!” he exclaimed in his surprise.
“Hi, Dr. Klein,” she greeted him, walking into his office uninvited.
He stared for a moment as though confused as to their presence, then it seemed to click. “Oh, right, today’s check-up day, isn’t it?”
Lois nodded. “We changed it after that ice storm last week.”
Dr. Klein nodded in turn. “Right, right. And you must be…?” He turned his attention to Martha.
“Clark’s mother. Martha,” Martha introduced herself.
Dr. Klein extended a hand to her and they shook. “It’s nice to meet you. Well, not nice, given the circumstances. But…you know what I mean,” he fumbled before clearing his throat and withdrawing his hand. “Let me start again,” he apologized, putting his hand over his heart for a moment before extending it to Martha once more. His nervousness died away and his expression softened as he met Martha’s gaze with his own. “I’m Dr. Klein. Your son…it’s a privilege to know him. I promise, I will do all in my power to help him.”
Martha gave him a tiny smile. “I know you will. Lois has done nothing but praise you.”
“I appreciate that,” he replied, dipping his head in embarrassed acknowledgment. “Come on down the hall to the exam room.”
Lois let Martha escort Clark as they followed Dr. Klein, back to the same room where he’d been checked out after being freed from Arkham Asylum. As before, it was torture to leave Clark alone in the room while she was directed to wait in the adjacent room, but at least this time she wasn’t alone. She had Martha.
“Any changes I should know about?” Dr. Klein asked them before heading into Clark’s room.
Lois shook her head. “Nothing. He’s still…as distant as he was when we found him,” she admitted.
“No powers? No indication of accelerated healing? Has he spoken?” Dr. Klein carefully inquired.
“Nothing at all.” It hurt to say it out loud. “But he’s had a healthy appetite. And I think maybe his face looks a little fuller. Or maybe it’s my imagination,” she quickly added.
Dr. Klein nodded. “And how much sun per day?” For the time being, he was all business and clinical.
Lois thought for a moment. “The first couple of days were rough with the media surrounding my house,” she confessed, feeling ashamed, though she knew it wasn’t her fault. “But once the media dispersed…it’s been…I don’t know. Most of the day every day that the weather cooperates.”
“Good,” he commented. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
True to his word, in fifteen or twenty minutes – Lois lost track of the time – Dr. Klein returned. Lois had been slouching in the chair as she ran every worst-case scenario over in her mind. But Dr. Klein didn’t appear to be too grim when he returned, so she considered that to be a good sign. Although, she realized as her stomach dropped a little, he didn’t exactly look happy either. She held her breath and squeezed Martha’s hand in anticipation.
Dr. Klein pulled over the rolling stool in the room and sat facing them. “There’s some good news and some bad news,” he began. “The bad news first. I’m sure it’s no surprise to you that he’s still in a precarious situation. And it goes without saying that I have no idea how far or how quickly he might recover. I drew some blood, as I did last time, and I’ll run it myself to compare it to how he was doing when he was first brought in. I, uh, didn’t need any ‘help’ in drawing the sample, if you catch my meaning.”
Martha nodded. “We understand.”
He nodded in turn. “He still appears to be suffering from the damage the electroshock therapy caused to his brain. Again, no surprise, I’m sure. I tried running a very simple memory game with him. I showed him three cards with symbols on them and asked him to point and repeat the pattern. He didn’t even seem to notice that I asked him a question.”
“The blank stare. Yeah, we’ve never gotten more than that, aside from the rare look of confusion,” Lois agreed. “And he’s still a little fearful of his name and sometimes if we touch him unexpectedly.” She paused and sighed softly.
“You said there was good news?” Martha prompted.
“There is,” Dr. Klein confirmed and his voice had a spark of hope in it now. “He’s put on about five pounds since I last saw him. His vital signs are much improved. I was worried when I made the decision not to set up an IV in your home, Lois,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing and if an IV would have even made a difference. But, whatever you two are doing, keep it up. Physically speaking, he’s heading in the right direction. That’s not to say that things aren’t touch and go still, but I’m feeling pretty confident about his ability to get back to a place where he’s completely healthy again, regardless of if and when his abilities return.”
Dr. Klein looked down at Clark’s file in his hands. “Honestly, it’s like you two are pulling off a miracle here. When I saw him after you brought him, fresh from the asylum, I wondered how it was possible for a man, even one as unique as Clark, to endure what he did and still be alive after all those years.” He swallowed hard and it was apparent how hard it was to him to be saying the things he was saying. “But now, after seeing him today, I have hope again. Hope for him. That he’ll live a long and healthy life after this…at least in body. His mind…” Dr. Klein’s voice trailed off a moment. “I wish I had a crystal ball to see what the future holds for his mind.”
“And what about his bones? When can we start the surgeries he’ll need to correct all the malunions?” Lois asked, perhaps a bit too eagerly, but she wanted Clark to be pain free and able to function as a normal man again.
“Not yet, I’m afraid. I want him to get a little stronger first,” Dr. Klein said apologetically. “There’s no rush.”
“No rush?” Lois was incredulous. “No rush?” she repeated. “Have you seen the way he needs to navigate his world?”
“I have,” Dr. Klein affirmed. “And, believe me, if I could start it now, I would. But the risk isn’t worth it right now. I want to give it a few more weeks. Maybe a month, then we’ll reevaluate things. Hopefully by then I’ll feel more comfortable in sedating him to do what I need to do,” he kindly, but firmly, explained.
“A month?” Lois was completely crestfallen. “But he’s…”
“Making do just fine for the time being,” Dr. Klein gently interrupted. “Look, I hate leaving him in his current condition, but I have to consider what’s safest for him. And right now, I’m not convinced that putting him under is in his best interest. I know you’re eager to have him as close to normal as possible. So do I,” he added even more sympathetically. “And, I promise, we’ll get there. We just have to do it at Clark’s pace, not ours.”
Lois found herself without an argument. “Fine,” she hesitantly agreed.
“In the meantime, if you notice any of his abilities returning, let me know and I’ll clear my schedule to see him,” Dr. Klein offered.
“I will,” Lois vowed.
***
“Why did I agree to this?” Lois grumbled to herself a few short hours later as she sliced cheese and arranged it on a platter next to some crackers.
“You owe it to yourself to see your family,” Martha reminded her, though she kept her eyes on her own task of neatly arranging the cocktail shrimp on a different platter.
“I owed it to myself to keep it just the three of us,” Lois said distastefully. “I shouldn’t be subjecting Clark to this.”
Martha sadly shook her head. “No, dear. You aren’t subjecting him to anything. He doesn’t seem to be aware of what’s going on.”
“I feel like he’s on display like an animal in the zoo,” Lois argued.
“It’s probably good for him to get used to being around people who aren’t just us,” Martha countered. “We can’t hide him away from the world forever. Eventually, whether he heals fully or not, he’ll need to be around others.”
Lois sighed as she sliced the last of the block of cheddar. “True,” she acquiesced. “As it is, at some point, I’m going to have to beat Jimmy and Perry away from Clark with a stick. It’s killing them to not see him.” She laughed bitterly.
Martha nodded thoughtfully as she finished placing the shrimp and poured the cocktail sauce from the jar into a wide bowl. “I can imagine. Clark always spoke so highly of them. I just wish that, when they do see him eventually, he’ll be able to recognize how much they care about him.”
“Me too,” Lois replied. She picked up the platter and looked toward Martha. “Ready to go back into the lion’s den?” she asked ruefully.
Martha chuckled. “It’s not really that bad in there.”
“That’s because Mom hasn’t shown up yet,” Lois said. She tried to make it light-hearted, but she only managed to make it sound flat and mocking. She glanced at the clock. “Speaking of, she should be here soon.”
She let Martha pass through the doorway first, following in her footsteps as they carried in the last few appetizers. Everyone was where she’d left them – Lucy and Luke chatting on the couch, Kelly and Amanda playing on the floor with a small assortment of Barbie dolls and unicorns. Clark was still in his chair, blindly staring into the fire place, looking without noticing the dancing, writhing flames in the hearth.
“Aunt Lois!” Amanda, the younger of her nieces called, as Lois set down her cheese platter. “What’s wrong with that man?” She pointed, in the wholesome, yet oblivious, manner that children under the age of ten tend to have.
Lois squatted down on the floor, leaving Martha to take the other seat. She smoothed down a patch of Amanda’s dark blonde hair in a loving way.
“That’s not polite,” snapped Kelly, a serious girl of ten, compared to her more carefree seven-year-old sister.
“It’s okay,” Lois murmured softly, letting Amanda know by her tone that she wasn’t angry at the question. “That’s my friend, Clark. He’s…my best friend actually. Or…was.”
“What do you mean, ‘was?’ Either he’s your friend or not,” Kelly piped up matter-of-factly as she sat her Barbie on a woefully undersized white and silver unicorn.
Was? For a moment, Lois was taken aback by her own words. Or rather, that one, singular, depressing word. Was. Did that mean she’d given up hope, on some level, that Clark would be restored to her?
Not a chance, she admonished herself. Clark is strong. He’ll find a way back to us. And…even if he doesn’t…that changes nothing. He’s still my best friend. He always will be. I love him too much to ever let anything change that.
“Why doesn’t he talk? Why does he look so sad?” Amanda wanted to know, and Lois was grateful for the interruption of her private reflection.
“Well, it’s like this,” Lois began, trying to buy herself a few precious moments while she figured out what she was going to say. “He…went missing, for a long time.” Sometimes, a carefully tailored truth was better than a constructed lie. “And while he was away, he got hurt. Here,” she said softly, pointing to her head.
“His skull?” Amanda’s eyes were wide.
“His brain, sweetie,” Lois corrected simply. “He’s got a long way to go to get better from it. That’s why he’s here with me. I’m helping him to get better,” she explained, wishing with all her might that her words would one day become the God’s Honest Truth. She wanted nothing more than to help him get better.
“He moves funny too,” Amanda observed as she pulled the boots off her Ken doll.
“His brain wasn’t the only thing that got hurt. His hands and feet got hurt too,” Lois amended.
“Oh.”
With that dismissively uttered word, the girl’s curiosity was sated and the subject matter was dropped as Amanda turned to the more serious business of figuring out if her dolls should go skiing or to the beach. Lois sent up a silent thank you for the innocence of children. But even as she did, she cast a look at Clark.
He should be here with me, playing on the floor with these two little munchkins, she thought remorsefully, using the pet name she’d dotingly given the girls long ago. He would love them.
A tender, barely-there smile curled the corners of her mouth. How often had she seen the glint of happiness in his eyes when he was dealing with a child? Either a witness’ kid that he kept entertained while she’d spoken to the parent, or a kid who rushed up to Superman for a handshake and an autograph? Clark had loved them all and been so patient with them. He would have done anything to make a kid smile.
He…he would have made such a wonderful father, she thought with a pang in her heart. And now…I don’t know if he’ll ever even notice a kid again in his life, let alone reclaim who he used to be and go on to have a normal life and family.
Another thought crept, unbidden, into her mind. Maybe even…with me?
Mentally, she shook her head to dispel the notion. She was only thinking that because of the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on since finding Clark and learning how badly he’d been treated. Twenty years ago, she’d had her chance with him and blown it in favor of pursuing the “safer” option of a man she could never love. If she could never love Lex, he could never hurt her. Clark had been much more dangerous in her eyes. Because if she’d allowed herself to love him and things had gone badly, she never would have recovered from that hurt.
She sighed, disappointed in herself. I was different then. Young and stupid. So very, very stupid. I let my fears get the better of me and I ruined everything.
“Aunt Lois! Can we have our presents now?” Amanda interrupted, and Lois thought she’d never been so glad to have her train of thought derailed before.
Lois chuckled. “Let’s wait until your grandmother gets here, hmm?”
But even as she said the words, the distinctive roar of her mother’s car – still in desperate need of a muffler, Lois noted sardonically – came to a thunderous halt in front of the house. Lois got up and peeked out the window at the overcast world beyond to double check, then stuffed her feet into an old pair of running shoes to help her mother with the gifts she was starting to take out of the trunk. Ellen dropped the package she was struggling with and cursed loudly. But at the sight of Lois, she composed herself and hugged her daughter tightly.
“Merry Christmas, Mom,” Lois greeted her.
“Merry Christmas,” Ellen replied. “Sorry I’m late. The traffic in this dreadful city…”
“Will be a lot less when you head up to Lucy’s tonight,” Lois cut in, before her mother could begin to rant. Ellen’s hatred of Metropolis ever since the divorce had been finalized in Lois’ youth knew no bounds.
“I never did understand your affection for the rat race of the city,” Ellen huffed.
Lois rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s already here,” she said instead of answering her mother. “The kids can’t wait for you to get inside.”
Ellen smiled. “Can’t wait for me, or can’t wait for their gifts?” she joked knowingly.
Lois laughed a little. “Well…” she hedged, drawing the word out.
Ellen laughed too. “Thought so. Take those couple of bags over there,” she instructed with a flick of her hand in the direction of four bags covered in tiny Santa Claus faces. “That’s all the girls are getting until tomorrow morning.”
Quickly, the two gathered up as many of the packages and bags as they needed to, with Lois running out a second time to grab the pies Ellen had brought with her for dessert. She watched with great amusement as Amanda and Kelly attacked their grandmother with hugs, kisses, and excited shrieks, though her heart was heavy. During her youth, Lois had never really had a “good” Christmas. Usually, her father snuck out to his work or to his mistresses – as Lois later discovered – and Ellen typically drank until she passed out or was barely coherent. Somewhere in there, one or the other would press some cash or a gift card into Lois and Lucy’s hands as their gift. If it was one of the “better” years, there may have been a few wrapped trinkets to open.
But now Ellen was sober and attentive to her two young granddaughters, showering them with hand-picked, thoughtful gifts. But jealousy wasn’t what had Lois feeling so down. She loved seeing the positive changes in both her mother and her father over the years, especially since there were now grandchildren in the family. No, what had Lois feeling so depressed wasn’t thinking about the smoking ruins of Christmases long gone. It was Clark. As she watched him staring with his unchanging, dead expression, she realized that she was grieving for him. He’d lost everything. His past, his present, and his future, as far as she knew. Even something as simple as this – celebrating Christmas - was prohibited to him. It had always been his favorite holiday, and yet he was completely unaware of the festivities around him.
“Lois?” Ellen asked some time later as Lois sat silently watching everyone interact.
Lois looked up sharply as she realized someone was calling her name – more than once, if her mother’s concerned tone was any indication.
“Huh?” she asked, blinking rapidly and tearing her eyes away from the lights of the Christmas tree. Spots lingered before her gaze from having looked too long at the strands of lights that she’d struggled for two days to hang just right on the tree.
“Let’s go into the kitchen and get dinner started. Just you and me,” Ellen offered meaningfully.
Lois nodded. “Sure, Mom.”
The two rose from their seats and went into the kitchen. Lois immediately started on getting the ham prepped while Ellen began to prepare the side dishes. For a few, precious moments, they worked in companionable silence. Then Ellen turned to Lois as Lois was turning on the stove to boil the ham before sticking it in the oven. Her hands were on her hips and she had a dishtowel grasped in her right hand. She looked Lois up and down with her discerning mother’s stare that, even now, Lois was powerless against. There would be no hiding from her mother’s questions.
“Lois, we need to talk,” Ellen said simply, but it was abundantly clear that this was not a request. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Making the ham?” Lois offered with faux innocence.
Ellen snorted a little in dismissal. “You’re blaming yourself for your friend’s condition. Now, I’m not prying – Lord only knows I’ve done enough of that in my time and it’s only pushed you away – but it looks like he’s suffered a number of broken bones while you tried to find him.”
Lois nodded. “His doctor thinks he might be able to help correct all the malunions when Clark is strong enough, but he’s just not ready yet.”
“Of course he’s not. Anyone can tell just by looking at him that he’s as unhealthy as a…a…” She fumbled for a moment as she tried to come up with a good analogy. “A purely junk food diet,” she finished, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation with herself.
“He’s getting better,” Lois said, a bit more defensively than she’d anticipated.
“I didn’t say he wasn’t,” Ellen smoothly countered. Her hands went back to her hips. “But, Lois, let’s be honest here. He’s never going to totally recover,” she said in a voice so gentle, she sounded like she was talking to one of the kids. “Those marks? On his temples? I know what they are,” she continued, tapping her own temple as though to illustrate her point. “I’ve been a nurse long enough to see just about anything and everything. Those are burns from electroshock treatments.”
“They were never treatments!” Lois snapped. “He was tortured! There’s no other explanation for why he was given so many high doses.”
“Semantics,” Ellen allowed in a manner that brushed it off. “Either way, people don’t come back from that. Sometimes, the electroshock works and works well. I’ve seen patients with major depression turn corners after treatment. But, for others, ones that wind up like your friend…” She shook her head sadly. “Just…don’t expect miracles,” she gently warned. “I would hate to see you get hurt.”
Lois let out a deep breath, releasing the argument that had been brewing on her tongue. “I’m not sure what I expect, to be honest. But I do know this, if anyone can come back from the abyss, it’s Clark.”
“Lois…” There it was, that same warning tone, though this time it was sharper and missing any hint of gentleness.
“No, Mom. You just watch and see,” she replied before leaving the kitchen – and her mother’s cautionary warning – behind her.
To Be Continued…
