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From Part 19:Fear of pain. Fear of not being able to breathe. Fear of being helpless, dependent, begging for aid... The way to avoid that had seemed so obvious, so easy. Clark. Clark was Superman. He had amazing abilities... and all it would take was one dart of heat vision, or a tiny press of his thumb against her throat, or even the power of his freezing breath.
She’d almost asked him.
Only what he’d said about changing places with her had stopped her. He’d do that for her -
die for her - and she was trying to find ways to make it easy on herself? Ways which would be nothing short of torture for Clark.
He’d said there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. So he’d do that, wouldn’t he?
Whether he would or whether he wouldn’t, she wasn’t going to ask him. It was far too much of a burden to put on him. He was devastated enough as it was - and something told her that even being asked the question would tear him apart. Knowing that she was scared enough to want to ask that of him. That she would believe that he’d even consider it.
And he wouldn’t, anyway. That wasn’t Clark’s way. Superman saved lives; he didn’t end them. Clark, too, had ethical standards far above just about anyone else she knew.
It would tear him apart - both being asked and having to deny her request.
She stretched up and kissed him. Whatever was going to happen would happen. The important thing was that he would be with her regardless. Her husband. The man who loved her more than she’d ever dared to dream she could be loved.
*********
Now read on...The cellphone rang.
He pulled away from Lois and fumbled for it. The tiny screen showed the Daily Planet’s number. It could only be Perry or Jimmy. “Yeah?”
“Clark? The hospital just called. They want Lois there as soon as possible.” It was Perry.
“Did they say why?”
“No. Just that they need to see her.”
“Okay, we’re on our way.”
It was just as well there was no way for Perry to know where they were - explaining how they’d ended up in Las Vegas in the first place, let alone how they’d get back in the few minutes he intended it to take them, wouldn’t exactly be easy. Though, of course, when the bill came in it would show a long-distance call...
That was a problem for another day. Now, he had to take Lois back to Metropolis General.
“We need to go. Sutton wants to see you,” he told her, slipping the phone back into his pocket.
“Well, we were just leaving anyway.” She pulled a face. “I know what he’s going to say. Not mercury. And he hasn’t a clue what else it could be. Right?”
“We don’t know that.” Though at this stage it was very hard to hold out hope. Lois’s research on mercury poisoning seemed pretty conclusive.
He drew her further into the shadows, then stepped away from her for the second or two that it took to spin into the Suit. Then, gathering her into his arms as he did so, he floated upwards.
His final journey with Lois. He’d take her to the hospital now and they’d call her parents - and that would be it. From here on, there was nothing else they could do but wait.
At least now, though, no-one would dispute his right to be with her, by her side, right up to the end and beyond. Her parents might be resentful or even angry about his sudden appearance in her life as her husband, but that was what Lois had wanted. They’d just have to accept it.
“Clark?”
He bent his head to her. “Yes?”
“Do something for me. Make sure you get a decent partner. Don’t let Perry fob you off with someone who’s not good enough for you.”
What?
He almost dropped her.
How could she...? How could he even
think about working with anyone other than her? As if she were as replaceable as a... a pair of socks!
And yet, something about the way she’d said it... He glanced down at her. She was fighting back tears again. She actually thought that he would work with someone else. And she wanted him to know that she was okay with it. Wanted him to know that he deserved the best.
He’d had the best. There could never be anyone else.
“I don’t want another partner. If I can’t have you, then Perry will just have to understand that I’ll work alone from now on. Or I’ll quit.”
“Quit?” She sounded stunned. “Leave the Planet?”
Actually, that was sounding like a better idea all the time. How could he possibly carry on working there without Lois? When every day he walked into the place he’d be reminded of her? Her desk, empty. Or, worse, occupied by someone else.
Seeing his sole byline appearing where it would have been the two of them. No-one to brainstorm with. Only getting one cup of coffee on his trips to the machine, instead of two. No-one to catch his eye in the morning editorial meeting, grimacing at Perry’s latest mini-tantrum.
A fresh start somewhere else would be for the best. But Lois didn’t need to know that.
“Well, if it’ll stop Perry assigning me a partner I don’t want...” Let her think it was a bluff.
“Oh, right.”
They were almost there. Ironically, that was a relief - it gave him a reason to end a conversation which, like almost every other today, was too painful to continue. “We’ll be at the hospital in a minute.”
“Oh.” Her voice was faint. He looked down at her again, alarmed. Was she weakening again? She was pretty much lying limply against his chest. But the bleak look in her eyes told him the truth. Like him, she saw their destination as the end of the road.
She was silent as he glided slowly to the ground in the darkened grounds of the hospital. Once on the ground, he spun back into himself and held out his hand to her. She folded her fingers around his as if he were her lifeline.
“Can you walk? Or do you need me to carry you?”
“I want to walk.” But her first steps were stumbling and she was almost a dead weight on his arm.
“C’mere.” He let go of her hand and slid his arm around her waist instead. “Lean on me.”
With her arm around him and her head leaning against his shoulder, they walked slowly, not speaking, towards the ER entrance. Words tumbled around inside his head. There was so much he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to tell her, but the solid lump wedged inside his throat just made it impossible to speak.
Instead, as they came to the door, he reached out for her left hand and raised her ring finger to his lips. She looked up at him as he kissed the spot where his ring rested. All the love he felt for her was reflected back to him in her eyes.
He swallowed again and guided her inside. Inside, where they’d no longer be alone, just the two of them for the precious time they had left. Where medical science would take over, would take Lois from him, leaving him standing aside, looking on, helpless, a spectator to his wife’s final...
The lump in his throat was incredibly painful.
At least they couldn’t make him leave her. Not now.
“Lois Lane for Dr Sutton,” he told the clerk, who was instantly alert.
“Oh, he’s waiting for you. I’ll get someone to take you straight through.”
Lois clung tightly to him as they were shown into a cubicle. They were joined immediately by Dr Sutton, who looked grave. “We have the results of the last batch of tests. I’m afraid it’s not good news.”
“Not mercury,” Lois said. Calmly, almost casual, not at all as if she were about to receive confirmation of a death sentence.
“No, I’m afraid not. Professor Jorgensen, Dr Leek and some other colleagues are analysing what we’ve been able to tell them of your symptoms - which, of course, were complicated by the Guillain-Barre - to see if they can come up with any other ideas. However, time may be running out.”
“May b- ?” The unnatural calmness was gone. Lois’s voice gave way on the angry words and she was overcome by a coughing fit. He held her until she could finally breathe evenly again.
Then, even as she sagged against him and he knew she’d never be able to stand unaided, she turned back to Sutton. “Twenty-four hours, he said. That’s... less than three and... a half hours away now. And you... say
may be... running out?”
So typical Lois. Even desperately sick, in pain and knowing that she was dying, she refused to be patronised. Or told anything less than the truth.
“Don’t forget that I said it’s not possible to predict that accurately what effect a substance will have on any individual’s metabolism. And that there isn’t a poison or substance in existence - or even a combination - whose effect could be predicted as specifically as your attacker claimed.” Sutton paused, rubbing his nose. “Also, remember, we did start treating the Guillain-Barre. That may have bought us a little more time. On the other hand, you have been active today, instead of remaining as an in-patient, which was probably detrimental - ”
This was just too much waffling! “Doctor, can you please get to the point?” Clark interrupted. “What happens now?”
“Now, we want to admit Ms Lane and run more tests to assess the rate of advancement of her symptoms, as well as the variety of symptoms. I have to admit that it’s looking less and less likely that we’ll be able to find out what else she was given, but all we can do is try.”
At least Sutton wasn’t giving up. That was something.
Although false hope was worse than no hope at all. If Sutton and his colleagues really did think that Lois was past medical help, why didn’t he just say so?
“If you haven’t figured it out so far, I don’t rate your chances very highly now.” Lois’s tone was waspish again. If he didn’t know she was in a lot of pain and barely able to stand, he’d never be able to guess from the way she was standing up to the doctor.
“To be fair, Ms Lane, we haven’t had a lot to go on,” Sutton said, sounding irritated. “If the police had been able to find the hypodermic, or if that vial had had more than just the Guillain-Barre antibody in it... We’ve been working in the dark.”
The hypodermic... He’d looked. Had searched the warehouse, all but torn it asunder, but to no avail. It just wasn’t there. The police had searched all around Lois’s apartment as well, looking for it, and he’d taken a side-trip there himself on the way back from the warehouse. There’d been absolutely no sign of it.
“He probably... burned it,” Lois said. “Remember the... trash can, Clark?”
Of course. The one something had been burned inside. And he’d smelled plastic. That was probably exactly what had happened.
“Anyway, Ms Lane, we need to get you back upstairs now. Nurse Manders will take you, and I’ll be up to start the tests once you’re settled.” He turned to Clark. “I really do think that Ms Lane’s next-of-kin should be here now. There may come a point when the issue of consent may become relevant...”
Lois flinched. Clark hugged her gently and dropped a kiss against her hair. Sutton really could use some lessons in tact.
“Actually, though we’re about to contact Lois’s parents, I’m her next-of-kin.”
He took great pleasure in pointing that out. He was not going to let them push him out of the way. He’d promised Lois that he’d stay with her, and that was exactly what he was going to do. For his own sake, as much as hers.
Sutton blinked. “You are?”
“Yes. Lois and I were married a short while ago.”
“I see. Well, that changes things, in that case. I assume you’d like to go upstairs with... ah, Mrs Kent?”
Yes. He would.
There was
no way they were going to separate him from Lois now. “I can take her.”
Mrs Kent. That sounded... well, it just sounded perfect. Even though Lois would probably prefer to remain Lois Lane. Names, though, hardly mattered now. If letting her be called Mrs Kent would reinforce his position, his right to be by her side, then that was all that counted.
“Nurse Manders is getting a wheelchair.”
“I can walk.” But Lois’s insistence was spoilt by the fact that her legs just suddenly seemed to give way.
She began to crumple, but he caught her and held her steady. “I’ve got you.”
He swung her up into his arms. “Same room as before?” he asked the doctor.
“Uh... Yes.”
“Okay. You can tell Nurse Manders we’re on our way up.” Lois moaned softly against his shoulder, and he felt it like a kick to the gut. He’d never given her that Tylenol, after all. “And she needs some pain relief.”
It felt good to stride out of the cubicle with her.
Not that Sutton and his staff weren’t doing everything they could to help. It was just that... It felt too much like Lois was a specimen they were examining, rather than a critically-ill patient whose life was hanging by a thread.
She’d been pushing herself hard for hours now despite feeling increasingly worse. Adrenalin had kept her going. Now that they were at the hospital, now that she’d accepted that the two of them couldn’t save her life, it was as if her body was just giving up on her.
“Thanks, Clark... feel... awful... can’t... see properly...” Her head lolled back against his shoulder. He swallowed, and headed for the elevator.
Upstairs, he carried her into the room she’d been in before and laid her gently on the bed. Now, she was moaning faintly, obviously in pain. A nurse he recognised from earlier hurried in; Sutton must have called ahead to say they were on their way.
“Let’s get you undressed and comfortable,” the middle-aged woman said, her tone soothing.
Undressed... ah, he should leave. He began to back out of the room, but Lois whimpered and stretched out her hand towards him.
“I’ll be back, I promise. I’m just... getting out of the way while you get into bed.”
The nurse turned to smile at him. “I understand you’re her husband, Mr Kent. You didn’t tell us that earlier.”
He hesitated, but then explained, “I wasn’t, earlier.”
“Ah.” The word was full of understanding. “We’ll only be a couple of minutes, then you can come back in.”
Out in the corridor, the door to Lois’s room closed firmly against him, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. But nothing could chase away the sight of Lois, pale, shaking, in pain and terrified, pleading inarticulately with him not to leave her.
But she was the one who was going to leave him.
When? In an hour? Two hours? Four hours? How long did they have? How long before she wouldn’t be able to talk to him any more? How long before she didn’t even know that he was there?
She was fading fast.
It was too soon. He wasn’t ready...
When were you ever ready to lose the one you loved?
If she left him now, in a day’s time, in a year, in a lifetime, it would still be too soon.
Panic clawed at him. What was he doing out here? Why hadn’t he just stayed with her while the nurse undressed her? She probably wouldn’t have minded. He could have turned his back.
Several sets of footsteps in the corridor made him snap open his eyes. Dr Sutton, with acolytes - medical students, possibly, judging by the short coats. And another man in a longer white coat, but not wearing a stethoscope - maybe a lab tech?
They were clearly heading for Lois’s room. Well, in that case he wasn’t staying outside any longer. In three strides he was opening the door and walking back in.
Lois was in bed, looking frail and ghostly against the white sheets. A bowl on the nightstand told him that she’d been sick again. The nurse was holding her hand. “We’ll have to take your wedding ring off, Lois. It’s regulations, I’m afraid.”
She looked as stricken as he felt. He’d only slid that ring on her finger less than an hour ago, speaking vows he’d meant with every fibre of his being. Now a complete stranger was removing it. Taking away the outward sign of her marriage to him.
Stupid to feel as if his connection to her, his right to be with her, was dependent on a tiny piece of gold jewellery. Yet it felt like such an important symbol. So significant, speaking for so much of what he felt for her.
“We’ll keep it safe for you, don’t worry.”
Clark stepped forward. “I’ll hold onto that for my wife.” He extended his hand, palm upwards.
He’d just closed his fingers around the ring, still warm from Lois’s hand, when Sutton spoke. “Ah, good, you’re ready for us. This may be a little uncomfortable, Mrs Kent...”
Clark had to step aside to let the medical team pass. But another whimper from Lois had him pushing past them to get to her side. He was
damned if they were going to keep him away from her, no matter what they needed to do. He stayed there, holding her hand, stroking her face and her hair, while they worked around him, setting up IVs, drawing blood, taking various readings, firing questions at her.
“Cl... Cla...” She could barely articulate his name, though her gaze never left him even as she grunted and mumbled in an attempt to answer the interminable questions.
“Lois, I’m here, it’s okay,” he murmured. He glared at the doctor who’d just inserted an IV as Lois moaned and jerked in pain. “Be careful,” he hissed at the staff member in question.
“Mr Kent, your wife is a very sick woman. You have to let us work,” Sutton said sharply. “If you have a problem with what we need to do, then perhaps you should wait outside.”
“You don’t have to hurt her!”
“Unfortunately, we do,” Sutton replied. “We need to know where she’s experiencing pain, and how much.”
Helpless, he could only watch and try to comfort Lois as she was poked and prodded and examined by at least four different people. They were hurting her. They hadn’t yet given her the pain relief he’d asked for. She was scared and she was dying and he couldn’t even stop them from hurting her.
“Just get it over with quickly.” He glared at Sutton before turning back to Lois. She was still watching him, but her eyes were glassy. Was she even seeing him any more?
“Lois? Lois, I’m here. I’m right beside you.” He crouched down beside the bed, so that his face was level with hers. “Can you see me? Can you hear me?”
Her hand in his jerked just a little. Enough to tell him that she was still aware of him.
It was too soon. He wasn’t ready to let her go. Wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
“Mr Kent?”
He didn’t look at Sutton. “Yes?”
“We still have some questions, and Mrs Kent doesn’t seem to be able to answer us right now. How have her symptoms changed in the last hour?”
Without taking his gaze from Lois, he described what he’d noticed and what she’d told him. “Headaches - pretty bad. She was very weak - could barely walk without my help. She lost her balance a few times. She kept seeing blurred or double. I don’t think she started feeling sick again until a short while ago, but she said her stomach hurt.”
He stroked her face again. She didn’t react, and her hand was limp in his. Was she unconscious? Had she spoken to him for the last time? “What’s happening to her now? She’s got so much worse all of a sudden!”
“As I told you, she is very sick. And right now she’s in a tremendous amount of pain. We’ve just set up the IVIG again - that’s the drip for the immunoglobin - but that will take some time to have any real effect, and without knowing what’s causing the rest of her symptoms all we can do is offer palliatives. I can write her up for some morphine, for instance, but she’s just going to keep getting worse because we can’t treat the cause - ”
Sutton broke off abruptly as Lois began to thrash around.
Voices turned into a blur of sound in the background. Clark screened all of them out. He moved onto the edge of the bed beside Lois and took her into his arms, trying to calm her.
“Lois... sweetheart, I’m here, I won’t leave you... talk to me, tell me you can hear me...”
She wasn’t responding. Couldn’t hear him. Wasn’t seeing him. Wasn’t aware of anything. Doctors prodding her, poking instruments near her, talking about her as if she wasn’t even there.
“God,
Lois!” Desperation seized him. He covered her lips with his, tasted salt and realised that he was crying.
Not now. Not yet. Please, not yet...
There was so much he hadn’t told her. So many things to talk about. So much to show her. It couldn’t be over, not now, not yet...
A few more minutes. That was all. Please, just a few more minutes, an hour, so he could talk to her and she could listen and she could talk back to him... Not yet. It was too soon... it would always be too soon...
Guilt stabbing... he hadn’t even called her parents yet... unforgivable, so wrong of him... how could he deny them the right to be with her too...
Not yet, please, not yet... she couldn’t be, not yet...
Lois, don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, please come back to me, please don’t go...“...only we had more clues... symptoms match several things... tested for most likely... got to be something unusual...”
The medics were talking. At least, Sutton and the lab tech person.
“Yes, unusual... maybe not even liquid... only found the antibody... unless there was a second vial...”
Lois had stopped thrashing around and was now lying still. She didn’t seem conscious, though he held tightly to her and kept stroking her hair just in case. Could there have been a second vial? Had he - had they - missed it?
He closed his eyes and tried to visualise the warehouse.
Tables in the middle, full of unfinished toys and games. Work-benches around the side. The trash-can. The vial that had been beside it. The tiny shavings of metal on the bench and the floor near the trash-can...
Metal shavings...
“Dr Sutton!” Clark jerked his head up and stared at the ER doctor. It was a long shot - a very long shot - but maybe... just maybe?
“Yes?”
“Is it possible... could Lois have been injected with some sort of metal? Is it possible to inject metal?”
“Metal?” Sutton was frowning.
“Yes. There were shavings in the warehouse, not far from where we found the vial. It was... it was...” He concentrated again. What sort of metal?
Not steel. Not iron. It’d had a distinctive scent...
“Lead! It was lead.”
“Lead!” That was the laboratory person. “Lead can cause dizziness, tremors, headaches, fatigue, abdominal pain, vomiting... hmm, confusion, mood swings, seizures... that’s pretty much everything on the list, isn’t it?”
Sutton nodded, actually looking excited. “Well, that and the tingling and numbness, but we put that down to the Guillain-Barre. Hmm... It’s rare for lead poisoning to occur intravenously. Normally, sufferers swallow it accidentally, but it’s not impossible. Especially if you’re talking shavings, not chunks. It could have been mixed with the liquid antibody.” He nodded sharply. “Mr Kent, you might just have stumbled on it!”
Excitement was making him light-headed. “So what can you do? It’s not too late to help her, is it? Do you have to test for it?”
“Normally I’d want to, but...” Sutton frowned and looked at the chart in his hand. “If we’re right, I really wouldn’t want to wait much longer to administer the antidote. As it is, Ms Lane - ah, Mrs Kent will have some lingering after-effects. If we’re wrong... well, administering an antidote she doesn’t need won’t really make any difference.”
Because she would be dead anyway. Clark swallowed.
He had to be right. It had to be lead. Had to be. Because being wrong was going to cost him everything in the world that mattered to him.
********
...tbc
