Pain was an old enemy for Clark. He dealt with it every day, the pain of grief, of loss, of loneliness. In a way, he’d been running from it since the day his parents had left him with a neighbor so that they could spend a night out on the town and never come back.
Physical pain, though, was something that had been lost along with his childhood innocence. His changing body had made it a muted thing, a distant childhood memory almost forgotten.
Blinding pain wasn’t something he could ever remember, though that was what Clark was experiencing now. He’d put his hand on a hot stove once, when he was young, and it felt like that now, only over his entire body. It felt as though his flesh was shriveling from his bones, and it was all he could do to draw in each halting breath of air.
In the distance, he could hear Lois’s voice with an urgent tone attempting to cover an underlying sense of alarm. “I think he’s having a heart attack. Call 911!”
“My phone’s been cut off.” Pete sounded panic-stricken. “It’s been cut off since last Monday.”
“Then how did Clark manage to get in touch with you?”
Pete said, “He called my parents. They live a half mile down the road.”
He felt Lois touch his neck and his chest. “His heart’s still beating. The sooner we get him to the hospital, the better. How long do you think it will take you to get to your parents?”
Clark could hear the sounds of clothing being tossed across the room for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he heard a distinctive metal clink.
He also heard the sounds of the box being closed.
The release from pain was like nothing he’d ever experienced. From torture one moment to soothing relief the next, it made Clark gasp.
Pete was grabbing for a small box at the top of his closet.
“You don’t have time to go to the cleaners. You have to hurry!”
Clark coughed, and before Lois could stop him, he sat up.
“I’m ok, Lois.” Clark still felt overwhelmed by the faint aftershock of pain, and it was difficult for him to think. The pain was gone but he felt weak and ill, as though he’d have trouble standing, much less do anything more than human.
“You need to lie down, Clark, and elevate your legs.” From the look of uncertainty in Lois’s eyes, Clark suspected that she was attempting to appear calm and rational while inside she wanted to shake. His collapse had scared her.
Clark’s mind raced for an explanation she’d accept. Pete was still in the room, his face visible over Lois’s shoulder, and Clark knew that he had to come up with something quickly, before Lois rushed him to the hospital to face a battery of medical tests that he didn’t currently feel strong enough to refuse.
“I’m not in shock, Lois. I’m ok.” He hesitated, then inspiration struck. “I’ve been through this before.”
“What is it?”
“Um...” Clark hated lying to her, but he didn’t see another choice. “I picked up a case of malaria when I was visiting the Amazon. It comes back every now and again.”
“Malaria...” Lois’s expression turned suspicious. “You get that from mosquitoes, don’t you?”
Clark nodded. He’d seen too many people dealing with the effects of malaria to forget what they were like. The parasites that were transmitted by mosquito bites could lie dormant in the liver for up to four years. “I have some medication back at the hotel. I’ll be fine.”
He struggled to get to his feet, and Lois stared at him for a long moment before saying, “I still think you should go to a doctor. People don’t just collapse...”
“I think this has been coming on for a while, Lois.”
That was only the truth. The rock in Pete’s box had caused Clark pain, and Clark had little doubt that if he’d left the box open long enough it would have killed him. Even now he was sick and exhausted after only a few moments’ exposure. The odds that Clark had collapsed just as the box had been opened were too remote even to be considered.
The rock had been waiting for him after all these years, lying in a field waiting for him to return home. He’d always known that Smallville was bad for him; he just hadn’t known how bad.
Pete helped him to his feet.
Casually, Clark glanced at the box and said, “Did Wayne say where he found that, or how much he found?”
Pete shook his head. “This is a smaller piece. Wayne found a whole mess of them when he was out plowing his field.”
Clark stepped forward, but found himself becoming dizzy. He sighed and said, “I’d really like to spend a little time talking about the old days, but I think we really should be heading back.”
Lois’s expression was one of concern, and Clark knew that she wasn’t fooled by his act. She knew he was sick and ill, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.
It wasn’t until they stumbled out into the daylight that Clark realized the true extent of his predicament.
The entire world had a strange, muted look. His vision was blurred, and the colors of everything didn’t look quite right. The world was strangely quiet, as though the birds and insects had chosen to mute themselves. Even the sounds of the wind had faded until they were almost inaudible.
He felt as though he was blind and deaf. He’d spent a good portion of his childhood learning to adapt to senses which could hear what was said in houses three miles away, that could see the slight discoloration on the back of a grasshoppers knee. Now he had what he’d wished for as a teenager. It was all gone.
The shock of that was almost enough to make him stumble. He had a moment of paralyzing fear. What if it was all gone forever? He’d paid a grim price for his abilities, and he’d often regretted not being like everyone else. But to lose them now would feel like losing a limb. They’d become a part of him.
Even without them, he’d never quite be a human being.
So occupied was he with his own sensations of pain and weakness that he barely noticed the sounds of a car pulling up onto the gravel road. He glanced up, then felt Lois stiffen beside him.
Simon Hunt stepped out of his car. He smiled unpleasantly as he approached them both.
“Mr. Kent, Ms. Lane...how nice to meet you again. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Hunt’s smile was cold. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you were after the same story that I am.”
“I’m just visiting an old friend,” Clark said. As far as it went, that was true. That Hunt was substantially correct wasn’t something that Clark wanted to face.
His plan to keep Lois from realizing that a real story existed was falling apart. With Pete having photographic evidence, as well as a radioactive rock that could actually kill him, Clark was going to have enough trouble keeping Simon Hunt from making his story available to the whole world.
“I suppose that you have friends in the EPA as well.” Hunt’s eyes looked at Lois steadily for a moment. “I wouldn’t think that a reporter for the Daily Planet would be bothering with a tabloid news story, Miss Lane.”
Lois shrugged. “It was a slow news day.”
Clark was shocked when she placed an arm around his waist. “Mostly it’s just a chance to see where my fiancée grew up.”
Simon glanced at the toys on the driveway, at the general disrepair and filth. He grimaced slightly. “They say that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree Ms. Lane. Sometimes it’s a good idea to know where someone comes from before getting involved with them.”
Opening his mouth to speak, Clark couldn’t think of anything to say. Hunt’s attitude was nothing more than he’d experienced time after time in Smallville. It was nothing more than he’d come to expect from people. He’d learned differently in the years since, had made a few friends who he imagined might have been able to accept him despite how he’d been raised.
But none of them could have accepted him for the inhuman thing he was. His father had told him often enough what would happen to him if his secret were to be made public. He’d had nightmares about it for years.
Lois was the first person that he’d felt the slightest temptation to tell, and he doubted that even she would be able to accept the fullness of who and what he was.
“I think it takes a lot of courage to overcome our pasts,” Lois said quietly.
Clark felt as though he’d been struck by lightning. He was unprepared for the rush of simple gratitude that he felt for Lois and her simple act of kindness in standing up for him.
“You never leave the past behind Miss Lane. It haunts you until the day you die.”
“That’s very sad, Mr. Hunt.” Lois refused to look away from Simon.
“Sometimes you have to face the truth.” Simon took on a determined, almost obsessed look. “Sometimes the truth is all you have.”
“I find that to be a strange comment from someone who writes about Elvis having alien babies.” Lois’s tone had turned sarcastic.
“And yet you are here investigating a story about aliens. What do you know that I don’t?”
Lois stared Simon Hunt in the eye. “I know enough to avoid insulting people.”
“This is one Pulitzer you won’t be getting, Ms. Lane, no matter what stories you tell.” Simon turned toward the front doorstep. “You won’t always be a step ahead, either, even if Mr. Kent really is a native.”
Lois turned to make one final rejoinder, but Clark caught her eye and shook his head. The longer they spoke with Hunt, the more dangerous the situation was. Hunt had already found out enough to be threatening, and without Lois’s natural skepticism, he’d be only more determined to find the truth.
Furthermore, Clark was uneasy about the fanatical gleam in the man’s eye. This was more than a story to him, Clark was sure. It was an obsession.
As Hunt headed for Pete’s door, Clark found himself staggering and he was forced to lean against Lois on the way to the rental.
Glancing back, he saw a speculative look on Hunt’s face. All the fears he’d had about Lois discovering the truth applied threefold with Hunt. At least he knew that Lois had a human side. Hunt had the look of a predator.
***************
Lois sighed as she helped ease her partner onto the bed. “Are you sure you don’t want me to look for your medication?”
Clark shook his head. “I’ll be fine as soon as I rest a little. Why don’t you go on without me?”
Clark Kent looked pale and shaken, and the incident earlier had frightened Lois. Despite the changes she’d seen in him since his arrival in this small town, she’d always seen him as strong and fearless. Seeing him collapse had been difficult.
Lois hesitated, then sighed. If Clark wanted her around, he’d have said so. “If I’m to get to the morgue before nine, I’ll have to hurry.”
Clark nodded wearily.
“If you need anything, call the front desk. I’ll check back in as soon as I get finished.”
Gesturing for her to go, Clark rolled over onto his side. Lois stared at him for a moment then turned for the door. He was as stubborn and willful as other men in her life, unwilling to admit even a moment of weakness.
As she reached the threshold of the door, she paused. In her experience, most men tended to revert to little boys when they were sick, looking for the mothering that they couldn’t bring themselves to seek while well. Clark was more like a wounded animal, wanting to go off alone to nurse his wounds.
“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” she asked.
Without rolling over to look at her, Clark said wearily, “All I need is a little rest, Lois.”
For some reason, Lois found that she didn’t believe him. Nevertheless, she didn’t know him well enough to push the issue, and so she closed the door quietly and slipped off to her room.
Reaching for the phone, she hesitated. Clark Kent was a mystery to her, one that was rapidly growing to become more intriguing than the story she’d been sent to cover. The mystery of who he was and what had happened all those years ago in Smallville was something that was beginning to nag at her, but a moment of conscience forced her to ask the question. Did she have the right to pry into his personal life?
Her hesitation lasted only a moment. She picked up the phone and dialed a number. “This is Lois. I’d like you to find everything you can about Simon Hunt, the reporter for the National Inquisitor. I’d also like you to send me everything you can find about Malaria and Clark Kent, the new guy that Perry just hired.”
She listened on the other end for a moment, then said, “I’d like it sooner than later. Do you think you can do that for me?”
Nodding at the response, she dropped the phone back into its cradle.
She’d always hated secrets.
