"I know I'm still kinda new to this...but...are you supposed to be bleeding?"
Lucy's attempt to bring a bit of lightheartedness to the situation was appreciated, though awkwardly received. With everyone gathered in their living room, Lois' return home with a bleeding Clark clinging to her side made for quite a surprise.
"No," Clark finally whispered, looking over to her from across the room. The gash across his shoulder wasn't healing, although the terrible flow of blood had stopped thanks to Sam's quick work.
"You say this was caused by the explosion?" his father-in-law asked, finishing up the last of his bandaging. "Probably from the debris. Glass shard- piece of metal."
"It must've been. I can't remember any of the shooters' bullets hitting me."
"What else happened?" Jonathan turned to face his son, the sight of his boy wounded almost too much for him to take in.
"I heard the timer begin for the explosives...I tried to disarm as many of the gunmen as I could, but there were just so many, scattered all around. And there was one," he stood, wincing at the pain radiating down from his shoulder, "it almost seemed as though he wanted to keep me in this one spot. He wouldn't budge until the bomb finally budged the both of us."
"And this other man..." Martha asked, "the one with the fire?"
"He wasn't in the building, but I'm betting he's the one who torched it-"
"Along with all of the other buildings," Lois reasoned. "But how was he able to do what he did? I saw the whole thing...his arms literally turned into flames. He created the fire, and could control it," she supressed a shudder, still in disbelief at what she herself had witnessed.
"Okay...so back to my question," Lucy spoke up once more, "why are you bleeding? I mean...how?"
Clark shook his head softly, running a weary hand through his mussed hair. "I don't know. I mean, I didn't feel any kryptonite nearby. I just felt...everything..." he looked to his wife, hoping to find some sort of truth, or at least recognition in her concerned eyes as to what was happening.
Inching over closer to him, Lois wrapped one arm around his waist, trying to feel for any more wounds. After assuring herself that he was okay, she raised a hand to the side of his face. "What do you mean you 'felt everything?'"
"Just...everything. The explosion, the back blast...the glass as I crashed through it," he mumbled, not sure how else to put everything into words. "Even when I've been around kryptonite, I've never felt so much pain, and all at once. And then it just stopped."
"If you don't mind, I would like to try one more thing before I let you get some rest." Reaching into his medical bag, Sam pulled out a needle and vial. He motioned for Clark to take a seat back next to him. In one swift motion Sam plunged the razor-sharp point towards his forearm. Down it came until the tip caressed its impervious barrier, bending upon impact with Clark's skin. "Well- so much for drawing blood. If you want sweetie," he glanced to his eldest daughter, "I'll call Dr. Klein. Let him know what happened and that he can expect to see you tomorrow morning. In the mean time, I would strongly suggest rest. You still look a little shaken, so patrolling might not be such a good idea tonight."
"Thanks daddy." As the family said their goodnights, Lois caught a glimpse of her husband making a quiet escape to the stairway. His steps were slow, almost heavy, finally bringing him to rest at the foot of the stairs. For the longest while he sat frozen, staring blankly ahead of him. Martha and Jonathan must've picked up on it too, as they hurried to his side, reassuring themselves once again that their son was in fact alright before they turned in.
"Sweetheart," tying the belt to her robe as she stood up, Ellen gathered Lois into a soft hug, "we're right downstairs if you need anything." She turned to approach her son-in-law, brushing a hand across his forehead before switching to her most intimidating, motherly voice. "And no Superman-ing tonight. Are we clear?"
Clark couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. Sharing a laugh with Ellen Lane about his evenings "Superman-ing" as she put it, was something he'd never dreamt of happening. "We're clear." With a quick kiss to the top of his head, she retreated with Sam to the upstairs guestroom, Lucy trailing behind them.
Reluctant to leave Clark's side, Martha crossed over to Lois, reaching out for her hand in a warm gesture for reassurance. "I know I don't have to tell you this, but...keep an eye on my boy tonight."
**************************************************************************************
1:09am. Though the evening’s events had drained her both physically and emotionally, Lois kept a constant alert vigil laying awake at Clark’s side. Having not heard any sirens herself, she could only be thankful that there'd been no emergencies for Superman tonight, or that Clark was just simply too exhausted to hear them.
His soft breathing was a welcomed sound escaping the darkness of their room. She gently propped herself up on one elbow looking at him, caught in a trance, almost wishing her body wasn't demanding sleep just so she could stay awake watching him. She eventually drifted back to reality, and, being careful not to wake him, she eased back under the sheets. She maneuvered herself so that she was curled up against Clark's chest, feeling her own heart skip a few beats upon hearing his own steady rhythm. She held him tightly, her shapely form enveloping him into a warm embrace, clutching him so fervently that her breasts were flattened out against his chest. And then, just as her eyelids began to droop closed, she heard him faintly murmur her name in his sleep, reaching a hand around to tug at her waist, pulling her even closer.
"I love you," she whispered against his skin. Her final thought before succumbing to sleep rested on the hope that in the morning, they'd find their answers together.
**************************************************************************************
Clark slept harder that evening than he had in years. He drifted in and out of strange, vibrant dreams, until he stepped into a world that seemed so real, he was no longer sure he was sleeping.
"Clark...Clark, please...Please, don't do this..."
Nestled in his sleep, he could hear his wife's plea, but her voice- like her image- seemed spectral and very far away. "You can't," Lois cried. "You can't do this!"
Over the sound of his wife's sobs, Clark heard the agonized screams of his parents. Suddenly on his feet, he found himself moving in slow motion, his legs seemingly hindered. "I'm coming!" he pleaded, but no matter how he struggled, how he raged, his every step forward seemed to carry him back. His heart pounded against his rib cage, threatening to burst. He redoubled his efforts, yet his legs failed to carry him to Martha and Jonathan.
Finally, Clark burst through to reach his parents, but instead was met with an ominous, gleaming mirror. Reaching out a darkly covered arm to tip it towards him, his eyes widened at the sight before him- the dark sleeve that so tightly wrapped around his arm was attached to his former black Kryptonian suit. He turned his outstretched hand upright, only to find it stained in blood.
His eyes bolted open, yet Clark remained still as he awoke. His distressed stare pierced the ceiling as he smoothed his hand over Lois' back in slow, soothing strokes, hoping she would not wake. Finally, he untangled himself from her, tossing his legs over the side of the bed.
The realization that something else was wrong with him quickly made itself apparent. For the longest while he simply listened; for what, he wasn't sure. His wife's gentle breathing...his father down in the kitchen, fixing himself a snack...a cry for Superman, a siren or gunshot- anything to break the sudden and complete silence that now filled his ears.
But nothing came.
He simply could not hear a single thing.
**************************************************************************************
It was barely past 7, the alarm not having even gone off, when Lois awoke. She opened her eyes only to find that she was no longer clinging to the warm pillow that was her husband. "Clark," she called softly, craning her head towards their bathroom. After a few tries, she noticed that his suit and tie were folded neatly on the bureau, and his shoes were resting beside them. After a few moments, she picked up her robe and placed it over her shoulders, fastening the tie around her waist. Having a pretty good idea where she would find him, she made her way downstairs.
After an exceedingly strenuous night of patroling, or an especially draining encounter, Clark had developed the habit of spending an hour or so the next morning reenergizing himself, stretching out on the patio, soaking up as much of the sun's restorative rays as he could before they headed to work. Oftentimes she would join him, more than content to bask in the sun's, and her husband's, warmth.
“Good morning,” Martha called brightly as Lois walked into the kitchen. From her seat at the kitchen table, Ellen offered her own early morning greeting to her daughter.
“Morning,” she yawned sleepily in reply. Martha wiped her hands on the apron around her waist, then kissed her gently on the cheek. Lois returned her kiss with a smile, and then watched as her mother-in-law went to the cupboard and fetched a plate and cup for her. “Are you hungry?” she asked over her shoulder.
Lois nodded. "Anyone else up yet?"
"Your sister won't be up 'till noon," Ellen mused. "You father ran out for bagels."
"And Jonathan's picking up our tickets for that exhibit at the Natural Science Museum."
"Perry mentioned something about that the other day," Lois recalled. "They're displaying the findings from that archaelogical dig a few months ago; from Cairo, I think?"
"Mmm-hmm. Jonathan and I read about it, and we've been looking forward to it for weeks. Clark was up before I even came down. He's out back." Martha brought their plates to the table, as Ellen nodded toward the window.
"He said he was going to meditate, or exercise," Ellen waved her hands with a smile, "or whatever it is that he does." Ellen had come to know many things about Clark Kent; some she understood, and some, such as his unique origins and powers, she didn’t. But the one that warmed her heart the most was knowing how much this bright, gentle, and compassionate young man truly loved her eldest daughter. His life revolved around her, and she could never have hoped for her to be loved more completely or more deeply than she was by Clark.
Lois picked up her cup and poured herself some coffee. She sat down at the table, placing her napkin in her lap. She took a bite of the breakfast casserole that Martha had prepared for her; it was always her favorite from the very first time Clark had brought her to the farm, and it was as good as she always remembered it. Martha poured herself another cup of coffee and sat down next to her. "How is he?"
"He seemed to have slept fine last night. I'm anxious to see what Dr. Klein finds."
"Do I smell waffles?" As they watched the sleepy voice's owner slowly make her way into the kitchen, Lois and Ellen shared a confused look. "No..." Ellen answered, still amazed to see her younger daughter out of bed so early.
" *Could* I smell waffles?" Lucy brightly persisted, passing a hopeful look to Martha.
Unable to say no to any of the Lane women, she walked over to the cupboard, pulling down a large bowl to start making a batter.
"You realize that you spoil both of my girls, Martha," Ellen grinned, clearing her own plate and mug from the table. "Lucy, after you're finished come find me. I could use your help...finishing up those few things." The two exchanged a knowing look, one that was soon joined by Martha's own, leaving Lois even more intrigued- and concerned- about just what her mother was planning.
Once Ellen had left, Lois turned to Martha and her sister. "Either of you care to share?"
Lucy hopped up from her seat, bouncing over to the counter. "Would if I could, but I can't," she quipped back in response, her thoughts preoccupied by the enticing smell of her breakfast, browning to golden perfection in the waffle iron. Martha took the same approach, removing herself from the conversation altogether, coffee mug in hand. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."
Grabbing a fork from the drawer as she made her way back across the kitchen, Lucy took her seat across from Lois. She took a sip of her own coffee, then looked over at Lois for a long moment, as she watched her sit quietly, holding her mug in her hands; she was truly worried about her big sister, and her brother-in-law.
“What does it feel like, Lois?” Lucy asked quietly, folding her legs underneath her as she looked at her sister with a thoughtful smile. “I mean, even after you guys told me that Clark is Superman, I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around it. He's still just Clark to me. The guy who helped me with my physchology thesis last semester; the only person who let's me win playing basketball, and don't you dare say he doesn't," she challenged playfully. "I can never picture him being the same man who flies around catching bullets with his bare hands. I know that the two of you can kinda sense each other. What you're both feeling and stuff." She watched Lois turn her eyes toward her, as she lifted the cup in her hands to her lips again. "I'm still more amazed by the fact that you're actually married to him- to Superman. That's alot of responsibility, ya know?" she lifted her fork to her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "But what's that really like for you?”
Lois smiled, as she looked down for a moment and took a long, thoughtful breath. “It’s hard to explain, Luce,” she said, as she looked back up at her little sister.
“Well, try,” she said, her smile brightening as she leaned forward and rested her head on her hand, watching Lois with great interest; she truly wanted to know, and she had always wanted to ask. Now seemed like a perfect time, and she knew in her heart that it would help to brighten Lois' spirits, help shift her attention away from last night's fiasco.
Lois' smile widened, and she laughed softly as she saw the familiar look on her sister’s face. She was well acquainted with that keenly interested smile; Lucy had always taken great delight in prying into her romantic life, ever since they were younger. For the most part, there was little to share, and she enjoyed keeping her guessing. But there were times, like this one, when she welcomed her little sister’s curiosity. “Well,” Lois began, as she took another deep breath and sighed, deeply, "I did used to think that it would be alot of responsibility- alot of pressure. I'm not saying that it's not, but it's the kind that makes you feel so good about it, you know? Like...it gives more strength to the both of us, taking care of one another. I think that's one of the reasons we're able to sense each other. You know, that warm, fluttery feeling in your heart that you felt the very first time you saw a guy you really liked?”
“Uh-huh,” Lucy said, her smile brightening as she watched her sister with keen interest.
“Well, that’s kind of what it feels like. Only it never goes away, not even for a little while,” she said, as she leaned back in her chair. “It’s always there, even when he’s not.”
“Wow,” Lucy sighed, a bright smile on her face.
Lois laughed softly, as she saw her sister blink her misty eyes several times, and then take another sip of her coffee. “I know,” she said, smiling brightly as Lucy looked back at her from her cup. “It does the same thing to me sometimes. And that’s the best word I’ve found to describe it, too.”
“I bet you use that word to describe a lot of other things, too,” Lucy said, her mouth curling into a sly smile as she lifted her cup to her lips again and took a long sip, looking over the rim as she did so at Lois' gently blushing face.
“Possibly....why, is it that obvious?”
“Oh, please,” Lucy snickered, carrying her emptied plate over to the sink. “You’d have to be deaf and blind not to know, the way you two cling to each other all the time,” she said with a laugh. “And I think it’s absolutely wonderful." She passed a warm smile over her shoulder back at her sister. "I for one am grateful for his effect on you," she teased, though ending on a serious note. "You've definitely picked up some of his patience and forgiving nature...thank god," she trailed off with a mumble she was certain Lois still heard. "And I've never seen you more content and happy. If anyone deserves that, it's you."
"All of those years growing up...mom and dad always fighting. Trying to hide away from all of that with work...made it almost impossible for me to trust anyone,” Lois said, looking back at Lucy, her expression growing more serious as she reached up and wiped away the small tear that stood on her cheek. “It wasn’t until Clark came along,” she said with a smile, “that I learned how to do that again. And,” she smiled, as she took a deep breath and sighed thoughtfully, “I guess that I agree with you, that I may have picked up some of his softer traits, as well.”
Lucy looked at her sister for a long moment. “I believe,” she said, as she reached up and gently wiped away the tear that stood in her own eye, “that your husband is a very wise, loving, and wonderful man.”
“And I believe,” Lois said with a broad smile, “that I’ll have to agree with your very wise assessment of him.”
After breakfast, Lois showered and dressed, suprised to see that it was almost 9, and Clark still had not come back inside. Briefcase in hand, she stepped out the back door onto the garden patio, closing the door behind her. The sun shone brightly this morning, and the air was already warm. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in the fragrant aroma of the newly opened blossoms that adorned the garden walk. These were the simple things that she'd quickly learned not to take for granted. Perhaps as a means of making up for her lack of skills in the kitchen, she had always been a wonderful gardener, and the rewards of her hard work showed in the myriad blooms and bright colors of her handiwork. She walked down the stone path that wound through the center of the garden, coming up behind where Clark lay, stretched out in a chair. She couldn't help but smile when she saw him. He was motionless, though even looking at him from behind, she could see that his eyes were wide open. "Playing hooky today, are we, Kent?"
She waited for a response. "Honey, it's almost 9. You might have to beat your record of a five-second shower if you want to make it in on time. Clark?" For the longest time, it seemed as though he hadn't heard her. "Clark? Clark??" A bit worried, she walked over to him, ruffling a hand through his hair.
"Morning sweetheart."
"Morning," she looked at him quizzically, stepping back as he stood to face her. "You must've really been in deep thought."
"What makes you say that?"
"I just called you five times. Mom even said she tried calling you in for breakfast a little earlier." She couldn't quite put her finger on it...he just seemed... "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah." With a slightly embarrassed grin, he leaned over and kissed her gently. "Sorry about that. I thought I'd get up early. I didn’t wake you, did I?"
“No,” she said, “I didn’t even know you had left until I woke up.” She leaned closer to him, sharing another kiss.
"You should probably head to the Planet without me. I'm gonna change then head right over to Star Labs."
"I'll tell Perry you're speaking to Dr. Klein for research on Dr. Braden?"
"Sounds good."
Lois leaned up to give him one final kiss before turning towards the patio doors. "Love you."
"Love you too."
Watching her leave, his expression fell to one between pain and uncertainty. Were it not for his long since acquired ability to read lips, he would've missed the entire morning's exchange with his wife. While he was the first to own up to his obsessiveness, his tendency to hover in thought to the point of being oblivious to his surroundings, he'd never become so distracted that Lois' mere voice couldn't break him free.
It wasn't that he didn't hear Ellen.
It wasn't that he didn't hear his wife.
He *couldn't*.
