Alexa’s room was pleasant and more befitting a reasonably priced hotel than a hospital although Clark knew there were more standard looking hospital rooms in the opposite wing of the building – he’d looked. His powers were nearly all in place, although he hadn’t checked flight. Having bodyguards around made testing that a little difficult.
He took a calming breath. He hadn’t been able to say anything to Lois about what he’d seen when he looked Henry over and his room didn’t have a phone that connected to the outside world. Clark knew what a stroke normally looked like with his special vision – they were asymmetrical. He’d seen enough traumatic brain injuries to know what they looked like on the inside as well.
Henry’s ‘stroke’ wasn’t natural. It was bilaterally symmetrical, with the damage radiating out from the two red marks Clark had spotted near the old man’s temples, hidden in his hair. The damage was extensive and while Clark wasn’t a doctor, his experience as Superman told him that Henry’s brain injury was unsurvivable. It also told him that Henry, even though he was still breathing, had been murdered.
Unfortunately, unless Henry had suspicious relatives, or there were suspicious doctors and nurses at the hospital he was being sent to, there would be no autopsy to confirm that the brain damage wasn’t natural. Henry was an old man who’d had a fatal stroke while under a doctor’s care. End of story.
Clark opened the window to look out over the grounds. The window opening was barred by a steel mesh screen – not that it would stop him if he really wanted to leave. The cameras he’d spotted earlier covered the entire grounds as far as he could tell – except for one notable exception. Hidden in the perimeter hedge was an iron gate with a key-pad lock. The hedge bore the same seedpods that he and the CSU had found at both crime scenes.
Scardino had been right about that. There was little doubt that someone at the Center was involved in both murders and very likely that someone had left the grounds via the hidden gate.
Clark checked the room. Unsurprisingly, there were surveillance cameras hidden in the room as well as listening devices. He would have to be careful not to use his powers in any noticeable way or float in his sleep.
But he did have his powers and there was nothing to stop him from using them covertly. He lay down on the bed and extended his hearing – any observers would assume he was taking a nap.
“It looks like Mrs. Alexander had quite an exciting few days before joining us here. Newly married to Luthor’s son, witness to at least four murders, locked in an air-tight container, drugged, shot, suddenly wealthy beyond her wildest dreams,” a man was saying somewhere in the building.
“She's not our run of the mill patient,” a second man said. It sounded like Deter.
“She appears to be a good candidate for my research program,” the first man said.
“I thought all of your research dealt with behavior modification,” Deter said. “How would that apply to Alexa?”
“I'm broadening my study to include behavior reconstruction, which should compliment your treatments in memory recovery,” the first man said.
Clark realized the first man was probably Mendenhall, the clinic’s founder. Considering that Alexa had come to the clinic presenting nearly textbook symptoms of traumatic memory repression, why would Mendenhall be suggesting behavior modification for her?
Mendenhall and Deter spoke for a few more minutes, clinic business mostly. Oddly, neither referred to Henry’s sudden illness. Surely the man’s death deserved some comment, some suggestion that the other patients might be traumatized by the event. Or did they honestly believe no one cared beyond Agnes?
Clark had no answers, but the questions were bothersome in themselves.
Clark got up and started the martial arts routine he’d learned from Lin Chow and her grandfather. This body was more limber than his old one, and he was still getting used to the changes in center of balance and reach. Mindfulness was one of the things that Grandfather Chow had emphasized while teaching Superman how to use the power of chi.
Mindfulness was what he needed right now. He breathed in and out slowly, working each muscle individually and together.
Mindfulness and control. The Kryptonian genes gave him more control over his body than the human norm, although fully human yoga masters came close to the control he had naturally.
He was almost finished with the routine when there was a knock on the door.
Deter.
-o-o-o-
Clark had to admit the grounds really were nice in a manicured country-club sort of way. But he was still a farmboy at heart. He would have liked to have seen a vegetable garden somewhere for the patients to tend to. His mom had a saying : ‘Nothing beats digging in dirt to salve the soul.’ It looked like Deter and Mendenhall didn’t agree, or maybe they thought that giving a psychiatric patient a shovel or hoe would be giving them ideas.
“You're very lucky that Dr. Mendenhall is going to assist in your treatment,” Deter was saying with almost unnatural cheerfulness. “He's working on a new program that should help to speed up your recovery.”
“I'll take all the help I can get,” Clark said, noting the technician working on one of the security cameras attached to the high wrought iron fence. “Why the fence and all the security cameras?”
“They keep unwanted visitors out and roaming patients in,” Deter explained.
“You have a lot of those? Unwanted visitors?” Clark asked.
“This is a hospital,” Deter said. “We have controlled substances, experimental drugs, things that addicts might want to get their hands on.”
Clark inspected the fence. It was tall, but hardly a deterrent to a determined intruder.
“You made Agnes’s day, inviting her to breakfast like that,” Deter commented.
“It seemed like the right thing to do.”
“You do have quite a way with people.”
Clark feigned confusion. “Do I? It's so frustrating to discover fragments about yourself but have no idea what the big picture looks like.”
“That's exactly why you're here,” Deter said, reaching out to put his fingers against Alexa’s temples. Clark fought to stay in place, reminding himself that Deter saw him as a young blonde woman.
“I’m going to get inside your head and find the seed of your memory. Then together we will water it, nurture it, and make it grow,” Deter continued.
“And what if you can’t find the seed,” Clark asked, trying to keep his voice calm and his body relaxed. It took all his self-control to keep from kneeing Deter where he wouldn’t recover and then heading for… well anywhere but where this medical Lothario was.
Deter seemed oblivious. “You're going to help me. As I probe, you'll be there to guide me, which will require total trust and honesty on your part. Can you handle that?”
“To be honest with you,” Clark admitted slowly, “I have no idea.”
“Then you and I will find out together.”
Clark forced himself to smile. “I guess we will.”
-o-o-o-
Dinner at the Center was oddly uneventful considering there had been a death earlier in the day. Clark had no doubt that Henry was dead. The brain damage was too severe. Clark half expected Deter to join him, but apparently that sort of fraternization was frowned on. Clark smiled at Agnes, gesturing for the old woman to join her at her table, but Agnes just seemed confused – almost as though she didn’t remember being introduced to Alexa.
Clark ate alone. The food was better than he’d expected, but it was still institutional food.
Clark listened in on Deter and one of the nurses. It was an invasion of privacy, but at the moment Clark didn’t really care.
“I saw you this afternoon with your new patient. She's quite attractive,” the nurse said.
“I suppose she is,” Deter said. His voice sounded disinterested but his heart rate was up – almost as though he was feeling guilty about something.
“Careful, doctor,” the nurse warned.
Then Clark picked up another, more familiar heartbeat.
Lois.
“How was Alexa’s first day?” she asked.
“Productive. We're peeling away the damaged layers and getting to the core of her being,” Deter stated.
Lois chuckled. It was still odd to hear Lois’s words coming from a man’s body. But then Clark was still getting used to hearing his own voice in feminine registers.
“The core of her being,” Lois repeated. “Maybe when you discover what that is, you could let me know. It might come in handy when we have our first big fight.”
“When you see her, remember that it's critical you don't mention your relationship,” Deter warned. “It would be best if you kept this visit short.”
“Got it. Five minutes on the weather and I'm out of here,” Lois stated. Clark could hear the irritation in her voice.
“Sorry,” Deter said, not sounding at all contrite. “I have a tendency to get a little over protective of my patients.”
“And I tend to get a little over protective of my wife.”
Clark hurried out of the dining area. Lois and Deter were glaring at one another. Clark noted the bright bouquet of yellow and blue flowers in Lois’s hand.
“These are beautiful,” Clark stated, taking the flowers.
“Forget-me-nots,” Lois said. “Your… a friend suggested them. How are you doing?”
“Okay,” Clark said, turning his back on Deter and leading Lois out of the building. He could feel Deter’s eyes boring into his back.
When they were well away from any listening devices, Clark stopped. “Anything more on the murders?”
“Two very professional-looking hits,” Lois said. “If the cops know anything more they aren’t saying anything aside from there being a strong possibility of it being the same killer.”
One of the nurses was crossing the yard – crossing close enough to listen in if they wanted. “So, how are you liking the Center? I hear they show first run movies in the rec hall,” Lois said, abruptly changing the subject.
“It wouldn't matter if they were classics; they'd still be first run to me.” Clark watched until the nurse was out of hearing range. “Henry’s death wasn’t natural, you know,” he added, dropping his voice to a near whisper.
“I know,” Lois said. “Scardino thinks it’s a fluke but he’s promised to look into it.” Lois paused, studying Clark’s face. “How is it here, really?”
“I’ve seen heavier security in super-max prisons, but not by much,” Clark said after a moment. “Deter claims it’s because they have controlled substances and other things. And they don’t want patients wandering off, but it’s still a little extreme. And I would have expected some sort of discussion, even just something said at dinner, concerning Henry. And then Agnes… it was like she didn’t remember me.”
“Well, this place does specialize in memory problems,” Lois reminded him.
“But Agnes is Mendenhall’s patient,” Clark said. “His specialty is behavior modification, tics, bad habits, phobias, things like that. Not memory, at least not normally.”
Lois raised one eyebrow in question.
“Mendenhall wants to take me on as a patient,” Clark continued. “And Deter seems to think that’s a great idea.”
“That makes no sense,” Lois said.
“Tell me about it. Plus there’s the thing of Deter using my maiden name while introducing me around.”
“I did notice that. Any idea what his game is?”
Clark shook his head. “Only that his interest seems a little… excessive… for a normal doctor patient relationship. I think he thinks I don’t remember you, or the fact that we’re married.”
“Can you handle it?”
Clark nodded, hoping he wasn’t lying. Then he looked up and saw Deter watching them, his expression unreadable. Clark felt a shiver run up his spine.
-o-o-o-
The next morning was clear and bright. The perfect day for an outside ceremony. Clark went looking for a copy of the Daily Planet to read, but every copy seemed to have disappeared. Coincidence or one of Deter’s methods to ‘control’ Alexa’s environment?
Frustrated, Clark grabbed a cup of coffee and went to sit outside. He wanted to be alone to listen to what was happening around him but that was not to be – Deter found him and sat beside him on the stone bench.
“How are you adjusting to life at the Center?” he asked.
“It's okay,” Clark said. “But I’d really like to find a newspaper. Even if I can’t remember my past, at least I can be up on current events.”
“I’m afraid the newspaper might be too stressful for you,” Deter said. He paused before continuing. “You seemed very intense during Mister Alexander’s visit last night. Did he upset you?”
“No,” Clark said. “He was just a little concerned at Doctor Mendenhall’s interest in me. After all, I have a memory problem, not a tic or an addiction – at least as far as I know.”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for him to visit you again, at least not for a while.”
“Because you think he upset me?”
“You need calm and quiet,” Deter said. “No upsets that would keep you from grasping those tenuous tendrils of memory.”
“Well, you are the doctor,” Clark said, trying to allay any possible suspicions.
“Can I treat you to breakfast?”
“I guess so. But I’d also like to have today’s paper.”
Deter smiled paternally at Alexa. At least Clark assumed he meant it to be a paternal smile. It looked more predatory than that. More like the big bad wolf grinning at Red Riding Hood.
“Let’s talk about the paper after breakfast,” Deter said.
