[CHAPTER 24]
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Courage, above all things, is the first quality of a warrior. --Karl von Clausewitz
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Wednesday, afternoon
Two hours and forty-five tense minutes later found Lois anxiously pacing back and forth in the private waiting area outside the room Jory was supposed to have been brought to after the radiation therapy. Clark’s parents were sitting huddled close together in the far corner and while she shared their concerns, Lois found herself feeling a little envious of the fact that they were able to comfort one another.
With both of her parents providing primary medical care for Jory, she was left to fend for herself. It had stung a bit to be relegated to the waiting area when things had gone into panic mode, but realizing that she would have only been in the way, she had reluctantly acquiesced. The dangerous state that the radiation therapy had left Jory’s system in had required an immediate blood transfusion. Fortunately, Clark was available to donate a perfect match.
She walked over to the window and sat down in the chair that was next to the sill. Wearily, she closed her eyes and attempted to absorb some artificial strength from the rays of the sun that was now nearing the middle of the sky.
“Lois.”
She opened her eyes the sound of her name, feeling disoriented and heavy. Clark was standing in front of her but his parents had somehow disappeared. “Where did your mom and dad go?”
“They went to get something to eat.”
She blinked and realized that at some point she had fallen asleep without realizing it. Straightening, she shook off her lethargy. “Jory?”
“They’ve still got him in the clean room,” he said, shaking his head. “I haven’t seen him yet.”
“How did everything go on your end?” she asked.
“They got the blood,” Clark answered, “but they couldn’t get the marrow like they wanted. That’s why it’s taking so long, they have to do a bit more work this way.”
Lois frowned. “Why couldn’t they get the marrow?”
Clark looked sheepish. “The needle kept breaking.”
Lois’s eyes suddenly widened. The needles that they used to harvest bone marrow were some of the strongest ever created. She pushed herself up from the chair. “The needle kept breaking?”
He met her gaze and nodded.
“Your powers are back,” she said in wonder.
“Not fully,” Clark corrected, lifting his hands to ward off any excitement. “Which is a good thing or else we wouldn’t have been able to even get the blood… but yes, it looks like they are coming back.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
They stood looking at one another without speaking for a few moments. Now that the crisis had been averted for the time being, their minds were free to drift onto other things…like the things they had avoided talking about earlier.
After receiving the phone calls that had sent them running from her apartment that morning, Lois had been too preoccupied to think about the expression she’d seen on Clark’s face when she’d woken up. In truth, part of her had just wanted to forget about it; to pretend like it had never happened – that way she wouldn’t have to relive the sinking feeling in her chest that had manifested itself when he’d looked at her with regret and apology.
She knew what he was thinking – that they had been selfish in their desire to escape from the harsh realities of what was happening at the hospital. She knew that he felt responsible for Jory’s sudden turn for the worse – and that he partly blamed her for them not being there when it happened.
And, she knew that he felt guilty for how far they had gone because he didn’t love her.
She might have been able to make herself believe that the look was directed toward the situation at the hospital and not toward what had happened between them, but the memory of his impassive expression that morning made it impossible to engage in self-delusion. The pang of rejection was as strong in that moment for Lois as it had been when she’d seen his face that morning. Even still, it had meant something to her, and she didn’t want to talk about it because she didn’t want to hear him say the words out loud.
She didn’t want him to try and take it back.
Breaking their staring contest, Lois took a step to her right and attempted to move around him.
He stopped her with a hand to her arm. “Lois, we should talk about…”
“I’d rather not,” she quickly inserted with false brightness.
“But…”
“No, really, it’s best that we don’t. We both needed it, we both wanted it – but now it’s over. We don’t have anything to take back or apologize for.”
Lois watched as his jaw tightened and his face took on the determined expression she had come to associate with every time he had stuck a knife in her heart in the past. Her annoyance piqued at his apparent insistence to getting his apology out.
Tensing as his mouth opened again, her attention was diverted when she noticed someone walk into the room. “Daddy,” she said in relief – both because they would finally get an update and because she didn’t have to hear what Clark was going to say.
Lois stepped away from Clark, forcing the hand he had put on her arm to drop to his side.
Sam flicked a suspicious glance between the two of them. “Is everything okay in here?”
Lois forced herself to smile brightly. Her father obviously could sense the ever-present tension between them and she needed to assuage his concerns – she didn’t want to get kicked out of the hospital again. “We’re fine – just worried. Is Jory okay?”
Sam’s expression was thoughtful for a minute as he continued to look at Clark, and then it softened. “Yes. We didn’t have time to wait for the sedatives to wear off before we started the transfusion, so he’s still under. Since Clark is an exact genetic match, we shouldn’t have any of the normal infection or rejection issues here, but we are taking precautions anyway. Clark’s not going to be able to donate any more samples without the help of Kryptonite, and we don’t want to take the chance of exposing Jory’s system to the meteor rock in any form, no matter how remote. Best case scenario, the engraftment…”
He paused at their confused expressions. “Engraftment is the process by which the donated cells are absorbed into Jory’s marrow and reproduced. It could take anywhere from a few weeks to over a month. We just have to keep monitoring him.”
“Can we see him?” Clark asked.
“Of course. Come with me.”
Before they were allowed into the inner part of the clean room Jory was being held in, Sam had them change into scrubs and instructed them to thoroughly wash their hands, forearms, and faces.
They went inside the room and Lois stood by her father as Clark moved to the bed.
“Thank you, Daddy. I don’t know what I would have…”
Sam shook his head solemnly. “No need to thank me, Honey.” He nodded toward the bed and said, “Just take care of him.” Then he smiled at her knowingly and left the room.
Lois frowned at the door as it closed. The words had been straight forward enough, but the look in her father’s eye made her wonder which *he* he had been referring to. Too weary mentally and emotionally to consider that her father – the one who had essentially been the one to tell her to move on – could be trying to pimp her out, she crossed to the other side of the bed Jory was sleeping on.
The doctors believed that the prognosis was optimistic, but they would be able to get a better read on things once he was awake.
“Hi, Baby,” Lois greeted in a soft voice, reaching out to stroke Jory’s hand. “I know you can’t hear me, but you can’t see me signing to you either, so we’ll do what we can, okay?”
She gently ran a finger down his cheek: <Mommy.> Then she touched his forehead: <Daddy.> Finally, she bent the two middle fingers of his hand down so it formed the universal sign for shared loved.
“See?” she whispered. “We love you. Very much. And we’re going to wait for you wake up, because when you do, everything will be better.”
“If I told you that I wanted to give him to you, would you accept?”
Lois looked up upon hearing Clark’s words and frowned incredulously. “What?”
He cleared his throat. “If I told you…”
“No,” Lois entered, shaking her head and raising a hand. “I heard what you said. What the hell is it supposed to mean?”
She took a step backwards when he started to come around to her side of the bed. He didn’t stop moving at her retreat, instead coming to stand directly in front of her.
“Would you accept?” he asked again.
Unable to reply, Lois just continued to stare at him as if he were an alien… or, one with two heads.
“When Lana left him on my parent’s porch, she left a birth certificate…”
The mention of that woman effectively disrupted her stupor. “She sent him with paperwork, that was nice.”
Clark’s brow creased but he continued his train of thought without commenting on her insertion, “… the birth certificate only had the father’s name filled in. I want to put your name on it… I’m *going* to put your name on it.”
She crossed her arms on her chest. “Clark…”
“Let me finish,” he said forcefully, then as if realizing the way his tone had sounded, he amended it quietly, “please?”
He rubbed his jaw while looking considerably conflicted. “I can’t do this…” He gestured toward the bed. “Not alone. I’ve come to realize that. A wise woman once told me that parenting is more than biology, and she was right. *You* were right. I guess what I’m trying to say is that he’s as much yours as he is mine. Neither of us made him – but he’s ours. He’s yours.”
Lois narrowed her eyes. He wasn’t making any sense.
Seeing her doubt, he held up a hand to ward off any response. “I also learned that I can’t fix everything… but that what really matters it that you try. I blamed myself because I couldn’t fix him. I looked at it as a sign – as something saying what was and wasn’t meant to be – but you never stopped believing. You never stopped believing in me.” He stopped and looked at her expectantly.
“Clark, I don’t know what you’re trying to say to me. I don’t understand it. You don’t *give* away children. I mean, you can… but you just… don’t.” She shook her head bewilderedly. “All I have wanted is for you to be a parent to him, for you to accept him as your child – as he *is*… I don’t even know what to say to you at this point.”
“No. That’s not what I meant… I had a follow-up question.” He stepped forward and placed his hands on her forearms. “If I gave you me – all of me – would you accept?”
This time, Lois didn’t respond because she was more angry than shocked. Was he really trying to hint at a revelation of *feelings* for her? Now, after everything he’d put her through?
“You’re angry,” he observed.
“No shit.” She saw Clark glance toward the bed and set her jaw. “He can’t hear me.” She arched an eyebrow in challenge.
“Okay, well that wasn’t quite the response I was hoping for.”
She gave a short angry laugh. “Exactly *what* response were you hoping for? Peals of maniacal laughter? Jumping for joy?”
“No…”
She jumped in before he had a chance to say anything else. “A declaration of undying love, maybe? After the way you looked this morning?”
“About that – I wasn’t going to apologize… at least not for that. What I felt – what I feel… I wanted to apologize for not telling you about it sooner.”
Lois closed her eyes and released a long slow breath, forcing herself to calm. “I’m going to let you off the hook here, Clark. This has been a long stressful ordeal and you’re saying things that you think you should say, but things that when the dust settles, you’re going to regret. Let’s just forget about it…”
Her eyes flew open in shock as the rest of her words were effectively stymied by the placement of his mouth on hers. She felt herself begin to respond to his caresses but then wrenched her head away, remembering suddenly that she was mad.
“I love you, Lois Lane. Are you telling me that you no longer feel the same?”
She glared at him, refusing to answer the question for obvious reasons. “Are you telling me that your feelings changed over night?” she spat back at him, mockingly matching his tone.
He sighed – his hands still bracing her arms as if to ensure she didn’t run away. “I lied,” he confessed. “When I pushed you away… I lied.”
To her dismay, the half of her that had been praying to hear that particular admission gave in just a little. “Wh- why would you do that?”
“Because…” Clark briefly looked down, as if ashamed of what he was going to say. “…The people I love seem to suffer for it… and when you love someone, you try to protect them – even if that means protecting them from yourself.”
Lois weighed his words with disbelief. “That’s… irrational.”
“I know. I don’t want to push you away anymore.” He gazed deeply into her eyes and then said it again, as if underlining text. “I don’t want to push you away anymore. The truth is that I love you. I’m in love with you. Waking up next to you, eating breakfast with our son in the mornings – that’s what I want to do.”
He shifted them sideways so they were both able to see the bed. “Do you know what I did when I first learned about him? What I did when my parents called to tell me what Lana had done?”
She shook her head.
“I ran. I ran as far away as I could – clear to the other side of the world. I visited here and there, but I didn’t move home until he was almost two. I didn’t know what to do. What I’m saying is that I’m not perfect. I’m not proud of what I did, but since I met you, since I’ve been with you, I’m not that man… I’m someone better. *You* make me someone better.”
After a minute, Lois closed her eyes to break the intensity of his eyes… and to make sure hers stayed dry. She concentrated on breathing as she dealt with the tug-of-war raging between her head and her heart.
Finally she opened her eyes. “I…” Hearing her voice catch, she swallowed and tried again. “I can’t.”
“Lois…”
“No, Clark, don’t. I’m not going to lie. What I feel for you is something I’ve never felt before, but you hurt me… and you did it on purpose. Over and over again. I don’t think we can come back from that.” She placed a hand on his chest and looked at him pleadingly; wanting him to understand. “My heart can’t come back from that.”
His brow creased and for a second she thought he was going to argue with her even though she had asked him not to… she found that she was almost counting on him doing so.
But then his expression cleared, leaving his face – and thereby his intentions – unreadable to her. “Okay,” he said, nodding. “Can we at least be friends?”
Lois laughed at that – a reaction spurred in part from relief… the other part an attempt to mask the urge to cry. “I’d like that.”
Clark smiled and stepped closer, and she gave no hesitation in returning his silent request for a hug. Dropping her forehead against his chest, she closed her eyes and tried to come to terms with this strange embrace that was half hello, half goodbye.
Lois thought about the expression she’d seen on Clark’s face just as she’d moved into his arms. It was his Superman look – the one that said he had chosen a course of action and was going to pursue it. She wondered what he was determined about: being friends, or being more. If it was the latter… then Heaven help her, because as much as he angered her, as much as he scared her for what he could do to her heart… she still loved him.
And if he turned on her the dogged persistence that she’d recognized as a kindred spirit to her own, she would only be able to fight it for so long.
“He’s awake,” Clark said.
“What?” Lois pulled away from his arms and turned around. On the bed, Jory’s bright eyes were looking at them expectantly. <Go outside now?>
She and Clark moved almost as one to the bed. Her father had warned them Jory would be weak and lethargic as a result of the medication and the procedures, but he looked remarkably alert.
<Not yet,> Clark signed with a wide grin on his face. <Soon.> He stared at Lois happily and turned back to Jory. <Lois is really your mommy.>
Lois blinked in surprise, wondering if she understood the exchange correctly. Given their conversation, she hadn’t expected…
Clark laughed aloud and she realized that while she had been staring at Clark in confusion, she had missed Jory’s response. She turned to look at the little boy, and then back to Clark. “What did he say?”
“He said he knew that already,” Clark revealed, still laughing. “Apparently I’m one that’s slow on the uptake around here.”
Lois felt a tug on her sleeve and looked down.
<Tired of this place,> Jory signed. <We go eat ice cream.>
Laughing and tearing up at the same time, Lois leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Clark was right about two things. He certainly *was* slow on the uptake…
…And Jory was defiantly her kid.
~.~
tbc
