From the previous chapter:
“I need your help again, Bill,” Clark said.
Henderson looked at him, surprised at the familiarity.
“I’m healing too fast. How can I keep the doctors and nurses from getting suspicious?”
“Why are you asking me?” Henderson said incredulously. “Lane is right there. She’s the queen of plausible stories.”
“Because you’ve been shot. You know what it’s like.” Clark didn’t mention that, as long as he had breath in his body, he would ensure that Lois never joined that particular club.
Henderson twisted his lips. “Let me see that wound.”
Clark silently pulled aside his hospital gown. He was glad that the sheet covered him below the waist. Lois and Henderson both stared at his bare torso.
“Okay,” the detective said. Clark readjusted his gown. “It’s hopeless.”
“What?” Clark and Lois spoke as one.
“You’re healing too fast,” Henderson said authoritatively. “It’s not too bad right now, but your nurses are going to be suspicious. There’s no way they won’t be.”
“Then what do I do?” Clark worried. His father had been right to warn him to stay away from doctors. Once they examined him, his secret would be out.
Henderson smiled. “I’m surprised Lane hasn’t told you. Sign yourself out.”
“I can do that?”
“Kent, the hospital hasn’t arrested you. You’re here of your own free will and you can leave anytime.” Henderson shot a glance at Lois and added, “Of course, they’re going to make you sign an AMA form – Against Medical Advice. Lois should know all about those.”
Lois snorted.
Henderson actually chuckled. “They’ll tell you you’re crazy and they won’t want to let you out. But if you keep on insisting – Lois can give you some pointers on how to do that – they’ll have to let you go home.”
********************************
“Henderson was right,” Clark said as he adjusted his position in the passenger seat of Lois’s Jeep.
“About getting out of the hospital one day after major surgery?” Lois replied. “You can do it if you sign a form releasing them from all liability?”
Clark nodded.
Lois snickered. “The best part was when the surgeon threw up his hands and told you right to your face that you were being an idiot.”
Clark laughed too. “Well, in all fairness, most people wouldn’t want to check out of the hospital so soon after surgery like that. You know, after the surgeon talked to me, he went out in the hall and I heard him talking to Kelly.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘You can’t fix stupid.’”
“There’s a lot of truth to that.”
“Then he made a bet with Kelly that I’d be back at Met Gen within two days with some post-surgical complication.”
“But you won’t be, will you?” asked Lois, shooting him a sharp glance.
“Hopefully not.”
“All better from the kryptonite?”
“I’m still a little sore,” Clark said. He adjusted the seatbelt, smoothing out his bunched-up sweatshirt. “How did you get my clothes?”
“Thank your mother for packing a suitcase and throwing it in my Jeep this morning,” Lois replied, turning onto Fifth Street.
There was a momentary silence.
“I noticed you didn’t say anything about the other piece of kryptonite, the big chunk that Jason Mazik had,” Clark said, changing the subject.
“You didn’t either.”
“Well, before I knew Henderson knew my secret, I didn’t want to say anything, and then he assumed that Nigel’s bullet did all the damage.” Clark saw Lois give a half-smile.
“I’ve got that chunk of kryptonite in my purse right now,” Lois said, surprising him.
“What?” Clark exclaimed in alarm. He looked down at the purse right between the driver’s and passenger’s seats.
“Oh, don’t worry, Clark. Your mom put it in a lead-lined bag. We didn’t want to let out of our sight. We're trying to decide the best way to destroy it.” She took a second to glance at him. “The bullet Henderson gave me – I put that in the same bag.” She stopped at a red light.
“Henderson really came through for us,” Clark said musingly. “I never would have thought it.”
“He told me that when the call came through about you, he pulled strings to be sure he took it. And he’s arranging everything so that there won’t be any legal issues for us, you know, what with Jason Mazik getting killed in your foyer,” Lois said dryly.
“Nigel killed Mazik,” Clark pointed out.
“Yeah, but why were they in your foyer? Why were they kidnapping your parents? A good investigative reporter could find out a lot.”
“Fortunately for me, the best investigative reporter in Metropolis already knows the whole story,” Clark said.
Lois gave him a troubled look. “Clark…”
“What?”
“Am I really galac– “ A car horn honked loudly behind them, ruining the moment. Lois bit off a curse. The Jeep leapt forward, the acceleration pressing Clark into his seat momentarily.
“What?”
“Oh, look, here we are,” Lois said brightly. “My apartment.” She got out of the car, leaving Clark to wonder what it was she had been about to say.
He opened the door and stepped down carefully. Despite his confident words to his surgeon, he would have liked to have spent another night in the hospital. He would have liked another shot of that pain medicine. The afternoon sun continued its work of healing him, but he was far from his usual self.
Lois snagged a small duffel bag from the Jeep’s cargo compartment and came around. “Can you walk this far?” she asked, genuinely concerned. “They made you take a wheelchair when you left the hospital.”
“Yeah, I’m OK,” Clark said. “But maybe we should take the elevator instead of the stairs this time.” Lois habitually took the stairs to her fifth-floor apartment as part of her general commitment to regular exercise. When Clark had gotten to know her well enough to come over to her apartment on a regular basis, he had followed suit.
“All right.” Lois threaded her arm through his. The contact sent a thrill through Clark. They really needed to talk. He’d been thinking about it all day.
He cast his mind over the last two days. He had made dinner for her on Saturday night. He’d gotten called away on a Superman errand and had come back to find her sleeping. He had taken her home, and… the next morning, Sunday morning, she’d come back to his apartment. Had she walked back over to his place because she wanted to talk?
More likely, Clark thought gloomily, it was because she hadn’t driven her Jeep home and it was still parked over at his place. She’d probably come to get her car. And then the whole Nigel incident had happened, and Clark had gotten shot, and then he was in a hospital bed, where there was no time or privacy.
So they really needed to talk. The fact that Lois had sat at his bedside and had been with him all day today gave Clark hope. Plus, she held his arm right now. She obviously hadn’t written him off.
But was she still angry at him? Or hurt? Clark had had time to think about how he’d dealt with Lois when he was in his alternate identity, and he now knew how much he had hurt her. He hadn’t really meant to hurt her, but he had.
They stood in silence, side by side in the small elevator. It wheezed up the five stories to Lois’s hallway. Lois opened the grille gate, and gestured for Clark to step out first. He did, and she followed, letting the outside elevator door slowly spring closed.
Her apartment was only a short distance from the elevator. They came to it. Surprising Clark, Lois didn’t dig through her purse for the keys to her five locks. Instead, she knocked. Clark heard Moose barking inside. Lois’s neighbor hadn’t picked up the dog yet?
His mother opened the door. She saw Clark standing there. Her face collapsed into a teary smile. “Clark!”
He and Lois stepped in, and his mother hugged him. “Clark.”
His father got up from Lois’s couch, and hurried over. Clark stood, both parents hugging him, his mother’s grateful tears wetting the shoulder of his shirt.
Moose bounced up and down, whining and barking. Fortunately, he made no attempt to jump on Clark.
Jonathan reached out an arm to Lois, who stood there awkwardly, and brought her into the group hug. Clark luxuriated in the touch of those who were closest to him. They were alive. He had failed in protecting them, but Lois hadn’t. She had saved his life and the lives of everyone he cared about.
“Son,” his father said roughly. Jonathan held him fiercely for one last moment.
Moose settled down and began sniffing everyone’s pants.
“You still have him, I see,” Clark said, pointing to the dog.
“Your father and I had him at your apartment yesterday,” his mother said. “We walked him over here this afternoon after Lois called us from the hospital.”
“I’ve had a hard time connecting with Eleanor and Phil’s son,” Lois added. “He’s been at Mercy Hospital with his parents, I’ve been with you at Met Gen, and we can’t use our phones inside the hospitals.”
“I guess I can’t complain,” Clark said. “He did save the day.” He held a hand out for Moose to sniff. Moose obligingly came over but then gave Clark a disgusted look when he realized Clark’s hand held no treats. “How does it feel to be a hero, buddy?”
“Thank God he was there,” Martha said. “And Lois too.” She urged Clark and the others farther into Lois’s apartment. “Now, Clark, how are you feeling?”
“I’m still a little sore, Mom.”
“Do you have your powers back?” At Clark’s quizzical look, Martha added, “Oh, Lois told us that she knows. I’m so glad you finally told her.”
Clark’s eyes met Lois’s, and she gave him a Look.
“It was so nice to talk with her. I’ve waited almost thirty years to talk with another woman about my boy.”
“Mom,” Clark said, embarrassed.
“She’s going to show me the photo albums next,” Lois said, grinning evilly.
“Not the junior high school pictures?” Clark said apprehensively.
“What’s the matter with the junior high school pictures?” Lois demanded.
“Lois, I was thirteen years old. I looked like a geek.”
“Now, Clark, you’ve always looked perfectly fine,” his mother chided him. Except right now, you look a little pale. Let me take a look at you.” She shooed him into the bedroom, leaving Jonathan and Lois in the living area. Moose followed Clark and Martha.
Martha gestured to the bed and Clark obediently sat down. There was a bright sunbeam coming through Lois’s bedroom window and Clark took advantage, sitting directly in the light. He felt that tiny tingling he got when he “charged up”.
“How are you doing, honey?” his mother asked. She pulled up his shirt. “Oh. You’re not healed all the way, are you?” The sweatshirt bunched up at his armpits. “Can you take off your shirt?”
Clark pulled off the sweatshirt at his mother’s request and laid it on the bed. Moose sniffed it interestedly.
Martha ran her hand along his incision. “I never thought I’d see you like this,” Martha said. “When you became Superman, we worried about so many things – could you keep your identity a secret, would you be happy? But we never thought you’d be shot. You’re invulnerable.”
“I thought I was too, Mom,” Clark said softly. “But I’m not.” He took her hand. “What was worse for me was seeing you in danger.” He smiled proudly. “But Lois came through.”
“She did, all right,” Martha agreed. “You father said if you had to tell anyone your secret, you picked the right person.”
“What did Lois say about, you know, me being Superman?” Clark asked guiltily. It wasn’t really fair to ask his mother to gossip, he knew.
“Not much, honey, just that you had told her the night before. She went home to think about it and sleep on it.” Martha glanced at her son in such a way that Clark knew that his mother suspected there was more.
“Uh, yeah.” Clark decided to leave that topic. He directed his attention to his torso, still flecked with blood and surgical disinfectant. “I could really use a shower.”
Martha took her hand off his shoulder. “And I should really get some dinner on.” That was his mother, Clark thought. In a crisis, her instinct was to feed everyone. “Jonathan?” she called.
His father lumbered into the room, Lois following. “Yes, Martha?” Then Jonathan saw Clark’s surgical incision and whistled. “That’s quite a… a setup, there, son.”
Lois said nothing, but she stared at Clark’s chest.
“Jonathan, Clark needs a shower. Why don’t you stay here in case he needs help, and Lois and I will run out and get some dinner for us?”
Everyone nodded, mesmerized by Martha’s take-charge attitude. “Come on, Lois,” Martha said, taking Lois by the arm. Lois jumped a bit and tore her eyes away from Clark’s torso.
“Uh, yeah, Martha,” Lois said. “Let me get my keys.” They left the apartment. Moose trailed behind and whined plaintively when the door closed behind them.
Jonathan turned back to Clark. “Do you need any help, son?”
“I think I’ll be OK, Dad. If you could bring in my duffel bag…”
“OK.” Jonathan brought the bag which contained a set of clean clothing.
Clark stepped into Lois’s bathroom. He’d used it many times before, of course, on his visits to her apartment. But he’d never taken a shower there. She’d set up a special shelf in her bathtub just for her shampoos, conditioners and body washes. Her cosmetics took up the entire medicine cabinet and spilled out onto the vanity top. Clark had always secretly liked the clutter, although in his opinion Lois never needed any artificial aids. She was beautiful just as she was.
He slipped off the sweatpants and sweatshirt, and removed his boxer shorts. It didn’t hurt anymore to bend over, so Clark guessed his healing was coming along well. He stepped into the bathtub and set the shower water on “hot”.
The steaming water cascading over his shoulders and down his body took away much of his tension. Clark finally allowed himself to think of the horrible moments when he’d been lying there before Nigel, helpless to save his family and the woman he loved. He smiled at the recollection of Lois defeating their enemy. She was wonderful.
He stepped out of the shower spray and soaped himself up, wanting nothing more than to remove the disinfectant and blood on his abdomen. His stomach itched, and he reached down to scratch it. The surgical staples in his incision dropped out of his skin. They skittered along the bathtub floor and the hot water pushed them toward the drain, one by one.
Clark rinsed off and looked down. His unmarred torso told the tale of his healing. It was a good thing he’d left the hospital when he did. Something like this could never be explained.
He tried levitating. No go. He wasn’t totally healed yet. A quick run through his other abilities showed him that heat vision was back, but deep vision wasn’t, for some reason. Given the expulsion of his surgical staples, it was likely he was invulnerable again, and a quick purse of the lips produced cool air that instantly flashed into fog in the hot humid shower.
Clark felt a little better. He hated being vulnerable. He hated not having his powers. Yes, he’d spent hours agonizing over them when he was a teenager, and they still had their drawbacks at times – a recent example being Clark’s need to escape from the hospital before his accelerated healing caused talk.
But becoming Superman had helped him come to terms with his alien abilities. He liked being able to see so far and being able to focus his hearing. The flying – well, that was the best part. And one of the best parts of having the powers was being able to save lives and help people.
“That’s why you became Superman in the first place,” he muttered. He was accustomed to his powers. When they were absent, he felt crippled – he was crippled. He hated that.
So, if his powers were returning this quickly, he was doing pretty well. When he’d been trapped in Lex Luthor’s kryptonite cage overnight, it had taken him a long time to recover. A few more hours in the sunlight should help his recovery now. Clark turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, and toweled off. A quick rummage through the duffel bag produced a pair of jeans and a loose shirt, along with socks and underwear. He dressed at normal speed.
As he left the bathroom, he saw that the beam of sunlight still hit Lois’s bed. It tempted Clark.
“Dad?”
“Yes?” His father was petting Moose, who had his head shoved into Jonathan’s lap. The dog moaned happily as Jonathan rubbed his ears.
“I’m going to get a little sun here.”
“OK, Clark,” his father replied calmly.
Clark felt a sudden rush of love and affection for this man who had taken in an alien baby and raised him. His father accepted him and all the weird things that went on around him. Clark swore that he would redouble his vigilance – so far as it was within his power, no one would threaten his father and mother again.
The sunbeam looked bright and inviting. Clark settled himself on Lois’s bed. Belatedly, he took off his shirt. He drifted off to sleep, his skin tingling as he basked in the sun.
*****************
Moose woke him. The dog barked as Lois and Martha came in the door. As Martha kissed her husband, Lois came bustling into her bedroom. She threw her purse on the bed and hit Clark.
“Ow!” He said it just for effect. There was still sun – Lois had a great western exposure in this bedroom, Clark thought, and a large window – and now he felt much better.
“Clark! I’m sorry!” Lois belatedly registered his presence. “Are you… OK?” She trailed off as she took in his bare upper body.
“I’m fine,” Clark said, wondering at the look in her eyes. He sat up and grabbed the shirt that lay on the bed next to him. He went to put it on, and Lois said, “Wait.”
“What?”
She came near him and ran a finger down his chest. Clark froze. Fire roared up inside him at her touch.
“You’re healed,” Lois said softly. “You took out the staples.”
Clark’s voice choked in his mouth as he tried to reply. Lois, touching him so intimately… he couldn’t speak.
Lois licked her lips, and Clark was almost undone. Lois’s eyes widened and she put her entire hand on his chest, not just one finger. The electricity between them fairly crackled.
“Your bathroom’s in here, Lois?” his mother said brightly, making her way into the bedroom. She stopped as she saw Clark and Lois staring into each other’s eyes, Lois with a hand on Clark’s bare chest.
Martha’s presence broke the spell and Clark coughed. “Um, yes. I think I’m all better.” He went to put on his shirt but his mother stopped him.
“Just a minute, Clark. I want to look at you.” Martha’s tone left no room for argument.
“Uh, I have to go to the bathroom,” Lois said, making a quick retreat. She closed the bathroom door behind her.
Martha ran her hand down Clark’s chest as well, clucking in satisfaction as she noted the absence of the surgical staples. “How are you feeling, honey?”
Aroused wasn’t the kind of answer he could give his mother. Clark settled for, “Fine.” He rather thought that he hadn’t fooled his mother - Martha Kent was no dummy. But she accepted his answer with a nod.
“Now, Clark, if you’re feeling well enough, maybe you could help us get the groceries out of Lois’s Jeep. That girl – her cupboards are empty!” Martha sounded as if the condition of Lois’s pantry was a personal insult. “We bought some things. At least she’ll be ready for an emergency now.”
The thought that Martha’s emergency was five extra guests at her women’s club meeting gave Clark a nice little feeling of relief. Superman had emergencies. Martha Kent had inconveniences. But his mother liked to feed people. That was just who she was. She couldn’t comprehend that Lois wouldn’t have food in her cupboards, just waiting in case of unexpected guests.
“Sure, Mom. I’m fine,” Clark said obediently. He listened for Lois – she seemed to be waiting in the bathroom. Did she want him to leave her bedroom? Well, maybe that would be a good idea. Things were awkward right now. He put on his shirt and stood up. He stood in the sunbeam and tried levitating. No – he wasn’t totally healed yet. Flight was still missing. He didn’t have deep vision. The hearing was on-and-off – it would come and go erratically.
His mother gave him the Jeep keys. “It’s all in the back.”
As Clark left Lois’s apartment, he saw his father eyeing the takeout containers from Ciao Amicis, the Italian restaurant where he and Lois had had dinner three nights ago. It looked like his mother had picked up the “Italian Dinner For Four”. Clark smiled as he recognized the small box of tiramisu. Maybe he’d finally get to feed Lois her dessert – third time lucky?
He checked the stairwell. No one was there. He sped down the five flights, just because he could. Speed was one power he had regained. All the grocery bags in the Jeep made Clark raise an eyebrow. His mother had gone wild. Clark took the numerous bags and carried them back upstairs.
He piled them on Lois’s kitchen floor – there were too many to put on her counters. Moose came over and nosed at the bags interestedly. Lois came out of the bathroom and looked at the pile with poorly concealed panic. Clark recognized the fear that she might actually be called upon to cook some of this someday.
“Do you want me to put it away?” Clark offered.
“Would you?” Lois asked.
“Can you do it quickly, Clark?” his mother asked. “Dinner is almost ready.”
“Sure.” Clark smiled at Lois. She knew, now. He didn’t have to conceal himself from her. It was strange how good that felt.
He shifted into superspeed and began dealing with the contents of the grocery bags. Apparently, his mother had decided that it was her personal mission to stock Lois’s pantry. Rice, beans, pasta, oatmeal, breakfast cereal. Canned fruit, canned vegetables, canned meat, soup, beans, pasta sauce, salsa, split peas, lentils, tomato sauce. Flour, sugar, baking powder and soda, salt, spices – Clark unloaded them all and found space for all of it in the cupboards.
Fortunately, Lois had had very little in her cupboards to begin with. She almost never cooked, Clark knew. She got carryout. She had over fifty restaurant takeout menus in her drawer.
He was a little worried about all the fresh fruits and vegetables his mother had bought. Lois tended to let those sorts of things become wilted and moldy. Nonetheless, Clark dutifully ensconced them in Lois’s refrigerator, automatically closing the door firmly. Her fridge had a leaky seal and the door tended to fall open unless one made sure it stayed closed.
He folded up the grocery bags neatly and deposited them in Lois’s closet. Finally, he unpacked the takeout food from the Italian restaurant and set it all on the table. He gave the food a quick warm-up with heat vision. At least that was back now.
When he slipped out of quicktime, Lois gave him a smile. “Thanks, Clark.”
He liked getting a smile. People smiled at Superman but it was different. Getting smiled at by someone who knew who he really was… that was a more satisfying smile somehow.
Everyone except Moose sat at the table. He laid his head longingly in Martha’s lap, having immediately identified her as “most likely to feed the dog”. Jonathan said a short grace followed by, “We’re all thankful that we are all here together.” Eyes met and everyone nodded at this simple yet sincere statement.
Clark spooned out some fettucine alfredo. “I’m sorry you missed the Paul McKenzie art exhibit, Mom.”
“Oh, Clark! I’m just glad you’re OK.” His mother smiled gratefully.
“It’s OK, son. We called the ticket office and we were able to reschedule for tomorrow,” Jonathan added. “And Wayne Irig volunteered to look after the farm when he heard that we were delayed.”
“I was wondering about the farm, if I should come and help you,” Clark said. He caught Lois surreptitiously luring Moose over with a bite of ravioli and gave her a conspiratorial wink.
“I don’t think so,” his father said. “Wayne has everything under control, and it would look suspicious if you were working so soon after you were shot. You’ll just have to stay away from Smallville for a few weeks.”
“Perry told me to stay away from the Planet too,” Clark said. He didn’t mention that Perry had told Lois the same thing.
“It looks like you’re going to have an unscheduled vacation, son,” Jonathan said. “What are you going to do?”
Clark took another bite of pasta as he considered his answer. For so long, he’d been busy. First, he’d hired on at the Daily Planet. He hadn’t been there long, so he didn’t get many vacation days. He tended to use the vacation days here and there, mostly to help his parents on the farm.
And then, he’d become Superman. It was extra, it was unpaid, and it was time-consuming. Superman had patrolled almost every day since he’d made his debut. Superman didn’t take vacations.
Suddenly, the thought of three weeks off seemed very appealing to Clark.
“I’m not sure, Dad,” Clark said slowly. He caught Lois’s eye. “I’ll have to ask Lois.”
“Me?” she squawked.
“Yes, you,” Clark replied. “Perry made you my keeper while I healed from the surgery. Well, I’m healed, but I can’t let anyone know. Anyone but you, of course.” Ideas began to bubble. “Isn’t it time that you had a vacation, too? You’ve been working just as hard as I have over the last two years.”
“Well…”
“I’m thinking of chocolates in Switzerland, seeing the whales near Antarctica, lounging on a tropical beach,” Clark cajoled.
“It’s true,” Martha said, amused. “Lois, you know Superman. You should take advantage.”
“I’ll have to think about it,” Lois said slowly. She chewed in silence for a moment, and then smiled as she changed the subject. “Since I know Superman, maybe I can ask his mother questions about his childhood.”
Clark groaned.
His father looked on in amusement as Martha started. “Oh, he was such a sweet little baby when he came to us in that spaceship…”
