Previously, on Clark's Heart:
"Well, assuming we find some way of repairing or replacing my heart, I'll need to check into the hospital as Clark. A team of nurses can be assigned to my room, whatever we need to do with that, depending on how long I'll need to be at the hospital. When it's time for the surgery, I've handpicked the one of the doctors I'd like to be in the room, who can smuggle in Kryptonite, should we need it."
"And that is...?"
"My father-in-law. Doctor Sam Lane."
"The sports guy?" came the incredulous reply, looking at Lois, rather than Clark. "He's your father?"
Lois nodded. "He is. And he's looking forward to working with you."
"So do I. I mean, he's a legend in the world of sports medicine. Even without the whole robotic replacement parts scandal from a few years back. Tell him to swing by tonight. I'll gather all of Superman's files together for him, so he can have a look at the history."
"That sounds great," Clark said, struck, still, by how calmly Dr. Klein had taken to the revelation that Clark and Superman were the same man. "So, can I ask? How are things looking so far? I realize, of course, that there hasn't been too much time to test things."
Dr. Klein shook his head, and all of his prior weariness seemed to settle back over him, like a thick black cloak. "Not well, I'm afraid. I've been testing - well, stressing - all of the usual fixes in what is a poor approximation of what your body undergoes any time you use your abilities. All have failed miserably within seconds. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. This isn't your fault," Clark assured him.
If it was possible, Dr. Klein's mood darkened further. "I should have seen this coming," he lamented.
"Hey," Clark said, standing and touching the man on his shoulder. "No one could have known. I didn't even suspect that anything was wrong, until the other day."
"I'm your doctor," Dr. Klein argued.
"And I am a complete biological anomaly," Clark reminded him with a grin. "Normal isn't normal for me. Even if we'd been looking for damage, chances are, we wouldn't have found anything."
"I suppose that's true," the doctor grudgingly agreed. "How are you feeling otherwise?"
"So far, since that one attack, I've been feeling okay. Like my usual self, to be honest. The worst part has been forcing myself to not use my powers."
That, and the constant feeling like I have an axe hanging above my head, which could fall at any moment.
***
Days turned into weeks. Most of the time, Clark felt perfectly healthy. He went to work, he cooked meals, he made slow and careful love to Lois. But in the back of his mind, he was always aware of his situation. In the dead of the night, he would awaken, lay in bed, and think about his health. In those still, quiet hours, he could hear the sands of his life slipping between his fingers, knowing that all too soon, the last grain would fall.
This was one of those nights.
Clark lay in bed, the sheets around him cool as a night breeze blew in through the windows. He looked at the bedside clock - 4:09 am. Without warning, his sensitive hearing kicked into action. It was a police scanner. He listened for a moment, yearning to slip into his suit and dart out to help. A drive by shooting, he could hear. Four dead. Seven in critical condition. Several more with minor injuries.
He sighed. The situation sounded like the police and EMS had the situation completely under control. But he missed the action, the thrill, of being there, in the thick of things, helping to save lives. He knew he should be trying to enjoy his time away from his superhero alter-ego. But he couldn't. As much as he loved spending every waking moment with Lois, and being able to give her his undivided attention, he felt like an entire half of his soul was missing.
It wasn't a vacation for him. It was torture.
After another moment, he gave a heavy sigh of regret and forced himself to sever the connection with the police scanner. Then he was getting up out of bed and throwing on a soft pair of sleep shorts and a sleeveless muscle t-shirt. Quiet as he could, he crept out of the bedroom and down the steps. He tried to watch some television, but at that forsaken hour of the night, he found not much more than infomercials. He clicked the television off again and tossed the remote to the far side of the couch.
He stood and wandered the living room, committing the place to memory, though he already knew by heart every nook and cranny of the home he'd made with Lois. When he got to the desk, he grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, then headed out into their meager backyard, by way of the kitchen. His bare feet made only the barest slapping sounds on the kitchen's freshly mopped tiles, and no sound at all on the closely cropped and bedewed grass. He sat down in one of the lawn chairs and looked up at the stars, though the lights of Metropolis made it difficult to see many of them.
He ached to be able to fly up into that void between the stars and Earth, to be away from the noise and confusion of the world. He yearned for the cold, silent space he'd always retreated to when he was feeling down, or overwhelmed, or wanted to physically be as alone as he felt. The stillness of that place had always been there, a reliable retreat which never failed helped him to order his thoughts or quiet his turbulent emotions.
With Lois in his life, he'd needed that refuge less and less. She was his rock, his shelter in the storm that was his life. In her arms, his fears and anxieties grew less. In her kisses, his aloneness disappeared. In her voice, his world grew still and ordered again.
But now, even Lois could not quell the terror within, that of facing his mortality.
He wondered, for a time, how Zara and Ching were faring back on New Krypton. Had their subjects taken well to the news that Ching, common born though he was, was their new ruler? Had the noble houses rebelled? When they had left Earth after Clark had defeated Nor, it had seemed like at least a portion of the nobility had come to accept and embrace that Clark had handed over his right to rule to Ching, and that Zara had been in love with the former lieutenant. And he wished, not for the first time, that he had a way to contact them, for he knew in his heart that his salvation lay with them. He had little to no hope that Sam and Dr. Klein could fabricate some Earthly fix for his heart.
After a time, he pulled his eyes from the night sky and stared blankly at the clean, unmarked sheet at the top of the pad. He picked up the pen, clicked it, then tapped the end against his jaw as he thought. Finally, with bold strokes, he began to write, the moonlight more than enough for his alien eyes to see by.
My Dear Son,
Let me start by saying that, though you are not yet born, I am already so proud of you, and I love you with my whole heart and soul. The day that I found out that you were on your way, I shed tears of happiness. It was, simply put, the greatest news I'd ever received in my entire life. One day, I hope you are able to understand just what a miracle you are - a child of two worlds, born of a love which has truly seemed to conquer all.
My greatest desire is to see you grow up - to watch you take your first breath, to hear your first laugh, to see your first smile. I want to see you learn to talk, to teach you how to read, to show you how to drive a car and see you off on your first date. I don't know if that can or will happen, but I promise you, I will try. I can, at least, promise you that.
Even if I am still around as you grow older, I want to offer these words to you. I speak from experience. Trust me when I say that these are important things to remember.
Always be kind and helpful if you can. Even in small ways. You never know how much a person might need or appreciate the door that you hold open for them, or the listening ear that you lend. Even a smile can change a person's day.
Do what makes you happy. Don't become the CEO of a company just for the money if, in your heart, you'll be happiest by being a school teacher. As cliché as it sounds, if you love what you do, you'll never work a day in your life. And your passion will shine through, making whatever it is you've done be something of quality. I consider myself lucky, in that I have always enjoyed my work, especially at the Daily Planet.
Find the person who makes you happy. Don't ever settle for someone, just because they are there - you are worth far more than whatever you think you have to settle for. Find the one who completes your heart and soul, the person you can trust fully and be completely open and honest with. If you have any doubts about a person, chances are, they aren't right for you. You'll know when you find "the one."
Your family will always, always be there for you, no matter what. There may be times when you feel alone, that no one understands you, but your family will be there. Turn to them. Take strength from them. Know that they will always love you, fully and without reservation.
Remember, always, how very special you are. You are unique. Never let anyone make you feel inferior to them. But never forget that you are not superior to them either, regardless of what you may be able to do. If it turns out that you have inherited any of my abilities, please, stay humble. Powers do not make you better than anyone else. If anything, powers demand discipline and control, as well as a respect for those who live day to day without their benefit.
Be the kind of man who people respect, but who also feel comfortable to be around. Be friendly to everyone. You never know when you'll make a lifelong friend. Cherish those people and be there for them when they need you, even if they say they don't.
Have a love for life and learning. Nourish your inner child. Laugh deeply and often. Let the bad roll off your shoulders. Forgive people. Forgive yourself. Make mistakes and learn from them.
Most of all, know and remember that your mother and I love you. Before you were conceived, we wanted you and were willing to do anything to have you. As soon as we knew you were coming, we fell in love with you. For as long as we live, we will love you, we will be there for you, we will be proud of you. Greatness lies ahead of you. There is no doubt in my mind that you will attain it. You don't even need to don a disguise or a cape to do so. Just be the best man that you can be.
I love you, my son.
Dad
Clark finished the letter and read it over, satisfied with what he'd written. In his heart though, there was more that he wanted to say, but he was having a hard time verbalizing his emotions. It was difficult for him to envision his son growing up without him. He knew, of course, that the boy would have more love and support in his life than he would ever know what to do with. But a kid needed his father as much as he needed his mother and extended family. And Clark knew that it would take a miracle if his son ever got to know him, outside of stories and photographs.
Gently, he tore the paper from the pad and set it aside. Once again, he set his pen to the paper and crafted two more letters. The first he wrote to Perry, the second to Jimmy. It was his intention that they should never know that he was Superman, but, he also wanted to leave them with an explanation, in his own words, if they should ever stumble upon the truth somehow. Perry, at the very least, Clark could imagine putting the pieces together. In fact, there had been numerous occasions when the grizzled old editor had said something or given him some look which had suggested that he might suspect the truth. Of course, Clark had always feigned being completely oblivious to the man's cues, not wishing to blow his cover if Perry didn't actually suspect anything, and not wanting to confirm anything if the man did.
He set the letters aside, just as he had with the one he'd written to his still nameless son. For a long while, he stared at the blank white paper of the pad, debating with himself. Then he began a fourth letter. In this one, he poured out his emotions to Lois, wanting to leave behind some tangible reminder of his love for her. Of the four letters, it was both the easiest and the hardest one for him to write. It was also the longest and most gut-wrenching for him. By the end, a few silver tears had raced down his cheeks, only for him to wipe them away before they could drip from his chin to stain the paper he was looking at.
Finished with his task and feeling emotionally drained, Clark left the backyard. Back through the house he went, stopping only to wipe his bare feet thoroughly before entering the house, then to rummage through the desk in the living room to find a few envelopes. He addressed them in his same neat printing, then sealed them tightly. He took them back into the bedroom and hid them in the back of his sock drawer, where he was certain Lois wouldn't find them until the time was right.
He stripped out of his sleep shorts and shirt, which had become damp from the night dew that had clung coolly to everything outside, then climbed back under the covers. Lois was curled in a nearly fetal position on her side of the bed. Clark couldn't help but to place a reverent kiss on her upturned and bare shoulder. She stirred sleepily and woke.
"Clark?" she asked in a sleep-fogged voice.
"Ssh. I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep," he whispered.
Lois forced herself to flip over so that she was now facing him. She yawned mightily and propped herself up on one elbow. Clark did the same, facing her, but he did not turn on any lights. Dawn would be lightening the sky soon enough, and the streetlights threw enough to see by in the otherwise dark room.
"Where have you been?" Lois asked.
"I couldn't sleep. I went downstairs for a while."
"I figured as much. Your skin feels cool though," she said, rubbing his muscular upper arm.
"I sat out back for a while. I just needed to be outside for a bit. It's a beautiful night," he explained, not wanting to get into the full details.
"You miss it - the late night patrols," Lois offered.
Clark nodded. "I do."
"I'm sorry. I know this is hard on you."
"It's just so frustrating," he confided. "I hear these cries for help and I can't answer them, even though I know I can be there in seconds and save lives."
"I know," she said, still rubbing his arm in an attempt to impart some comfort. "I know how it's tearing you apart. I would feel the same, in your shoes."
"I know. You're a lot like me, with your need to fix things, with your inability to be satisfied to sit on the sidelines. It's one of the many, many reasons why I love you."
"Funny, because it's one of the things that I love about you," she countered with a smile that morphed into a slight yawn.
"I just...I wonder. People are starting to talk. Superman hasn't been seen since the bridge collapse. There's been whispers...some people think he's abandoned us mere Earthlings. Like he did when he left for New Krypton. But at least then, he gave the world an explanation for his absence."
"So...you think he needs to make a public statement?" she asked, looking more alert now.
"I don't know," Clark admitted, shaking his head. "I've been thinking about it. But I'm not even sure what I could say, without it being a barefaced lie." He brushed a lock of her tousled hair back from her forehead.
Lois grabbed his hand before he could pull it back to his side of the bed. Gently, she kissed his open palm. Clark slid his eyes shut, savoring the sensation of her soft lips brushing across the sensitive skin of his hand. It was moments like these that allowed him to forget, for a time, his troubles and all of the bad things in the world that he saw on a regular basis. Lois put his very soul at ease.
Too soon, the moment was over.
"You can't let people know you're sick," Lois said after a moment.
"No, I can't. Remember last time, when that virus hit me? The criminal underworld went ballistic. It took months before Superman and the police were able to get back up to speed and get everyone in jail where they belonged."
"I'd never seen you quite so driven before," Lois said, remembering. "It scared me, given how close you'd just been..." She looked unable to finish her statement.
"I know," he said gently. "The greater part of me says to remain silent on the issue, but I hate to leave people thinking that their hero has abandoned them."
He brushed his fingertips over the thin strap of the tank top Lois had fallen asleep in. Lois made no reply. He could see in her face that she had none to offer. Silence ruled the room, challenged and defied only by the night noises outside of their window - crickets, still chirping as the sky began to lighten into baby pinks and pale blues, a dog barking to be let back into his home, the squeal of tires as a couple of reckless drivers drag-raced somewhere in the far distance.
"Let me help you to relax," Lois said after a time, using Clark's own hand to slip the spaghetti strap over her shoulder and down over her arm as far as it would go.
"Mmm," was all Clark could reply, his thoughts about Superman's absence scattering like marbles.
***
A few more days passed. Clark felt fine each day when he awoke. Once, he dreamed that Dr. Klein had been mistaken in his prognosis. In that dream, the sense of relief he'd felt had been immeasurable. The crushing disappointment of reality when he'd awoken had been beyond words. He did his best to hide his continuing fears and sadness from Lois, and tried to focus only on those wonderful moments with her that he got to experience every day.
Each night we would check in with either Dr. Klein or Sam, hoping without any real hope that they might have some good news for him. Each time, he was told, in as gentle a manner as either man could muster, that every attempt so far to come up with a fix had failed. The only difference between failures was just how catastrophically it happened - two separate attempts had caused the pigs' hearts that the doctors were using in place of a human heart to literally explode.
Clark slipped beneath the bed sheets each night more discouraged than the previous night. The small sliver of optimism that he'd tried to hold on to and nourish vanished like a candle too suddenly snuffed out. And still, he nodded and played along whenever Lois talked about how her father must be getting close to finding a cure. He told himself that concealing his feelings was for the best. Lois had enough to deal with. She had the baby to worry about and he didn't want to put any undue stress on her - not while she was pregnant, not ever.
He reveled in his work, finding solace in the investigations which purged all other thoughts from his mind. And he celebrated - truly celebrated - when he and Lois finally brought to justice those who'd been responsible for the bridge collapse that had left so many dead and even more injured. His heart sang as he watched the men and women responsible led away in handcuffs, and he found it next to impossible to keep the grin off his face when the story broke in the evening edition of the Planet that same day.
At home, he enjoyed all of the little moments - the feel of settling down onto the couch to read a book, the way the blankets draped around him when he climbed into bed at night, the way Lois' skin felt beneath his fingertips and lips, the taste of her kisses, the way that she smelled. When he thought Lois wasn't looking, he would pick up a picture frame and remember the events of that day it was taken. His favorites were of their wedding, but also the ones Jonathan and Martha had snapped of the two of them when they'd been together in Smallville the first time, when Jason Trask had been harassing Wayne Irig. That had been the first time Clark had ever seen Lois' guard quite that low, and when she'd allowed herself to cross the line between grudging work partner and true friend.
But always, the knowledge was there that at any moment, all of it could be yanked away by his faulty heart.
***
"Morning, CK," Jimmy said cheerfully as he rushed by with a box filled with bagels.
"Whoa! Slow down!" Clark said, standing from his desk. When his friend stopped, Clark grabbed two plain buttered bagels, one for himself and Lois.
"Those are for the meeting," Jimmy cautioned.
"So? We won't take any when the meeting starts," Clark said, grinning.
"Fine. Nice work on the bridge case, by the way. That's all I've been hearing about since the news broke yesterday. You and Lois are something else. I'm glad those people will be held responsible now."
"Thanks, Jimmy."
"So, you two pick any names for the baby yet?"
"Ah...not yet. We've...had a lot going on lately. Work and personal stuff."
"Everything's okay, right?" Jimmy asked worriedly.
"Yeah," Clark said, though it was mostly a lie. "We're okay. Just some family stuff that needs to be figured out, that's all."
"Where's Lois now?" Jimmy asked, casting a glance at her empty desk.
"Right here," Lois said, coming from the direction of the ladies' room. "My bladder is a trampoline today."
"Ah...oh," Jimmy said, blushing. For a moment, he looked lost, then decided that anywhere but between Lois and Clark's desks was a preferable alternative.
"I stole you a bagel. I thought our son might be hungry," Clark said, handing her one of the ones he'd taken.
"He is. Thanks." She bit into hers. "Oh, so good. He went to Little Manhattan, didn't he?"
Clark craned his neck to get a view of the box in Jimmy's hand as he weaved through the bullpen. "Yep."
"So...what's on our agenda for today?" Lois asked, sitting in her seat.
Clark shook his head. "Not sure. Perry hasn't assigned us anything. And all of our current stories are either waiting for print or on hold as we wait for interviews."
"Well, there's one we can try," Lois said after a few thoughtful minutes spent eating her bagel. She rummaged for one of the files. "Edward Silverton."
"The jewelry shop owner?"
Lois nodded. "Yeah, his shop was the one that was torched the other day."
"The arson, I remember," Clark said, nodding in turn. "Sounds better than sitting here, waiting for a story to fall out of the sky. You ready to go?"
"Yeah." She pushed herself out of her chair with a groan. Clark knew she'd had a rough night sleeping.
"You okay?" he asked, watching her as she collected her purse and made ready to go.
"I'm fine. Let's do this."
***
An hour later, they returned to the Planet, walking hand in hand together down the streets. It was a hot day, but not blistering. If anything, the summer was one of the milder ones Clark had enjoyed since moving to the city. Clark stopped as they passed a street vendor selling snow cones, getting a blue raspberry one for Lois and a lemon-lime one for himself.
"Well, that was a bust," Lois said with a sigh as she dug into her ice with a plastic spoon.
"We'll try again tomorrow," Clark promised.
Help!
Clark heard the call even without his superior hearing. Without thinking, he broke into a run, covering the last few feet to the corner of the sidewalk. That put him on the Daily Planet's block. And right in front of the building, he saw the cause for the cries for help. A school bus was laying on its side, T-boned by a tractor trailer. Inside the bus, Clark could hear the cries of pain and fear from the young kids inside. He guessed one of the local camps had been on some kind of field trip when the accident had happened.
He instinctually reached toward his necktie, his fingers brushing the silken knot before he remembered that he wasn't wearing the Superman disguise beneath his work clothes. He'd stopped wearing the blue after his initial heart attack, knowing that it would be easier to resist changing into the superhero if the costume wasn't easily accessible. Now, though, more than ever, he regretted not having it on his body. At that moment, his heart was a second thought - his real concern lay with the injured children in the bus.
He made the instantaneous decision to help.
Already, people had gathered around the crash site. Most was gawking at the wreckage. Some were on cell phones - Clark hoped they were speaking with 911. A select few were trying to help. Already, the driver of the tractor trailer had been pulled out of his vehicle, and someone had given him a rag of some kind to press to the wound on the side of his head. The rest of the helpers were trying to get the kids out of the bus, but the vehicle had landed on the door.
Leaving Lois behind, Clark quickened his pace - careful not to break into a flat out run. He reached the bus and went around to the back. The man who was trying to open the emergency exit stepped aside without Clark needing to say a word. Gambling on using a fraction of his strength, he forced the lever to move, getting the door to open. He used a little too much though, and the door separated from the vehicle to crash to the asphalt. No one even batted an eyelash, he noted with relief, let alone commented on the show of power.
Instead, people started clamoring into the bus, one by one, going in to aid those inside. Clark joined the effort, going inside. Blood, vomit, and other bodily secretions awaited. He ignored it all, finding the closest child he could aid. He found a wide-eyed and shaking little girl in the fourth row from the back. Softly, he called to her, but she was too much in shock to answer or even register that he was there. He picked her up and cradled her to his chest while he got her to safety. Then he was back into the thick of things on the bus, finding a slightly older boy with blood matting his sun bleached blonde hair. He, at least, went willingly with Clark.
By the time Clark was exiting the bus with a third child, a bespectacled and gangly pre-teen boy, the authorities had begun to arrive. Ambulances screeched to a stop, their sirens abruptly cutting off as the vehicles were thrown into park. Police cars started to flood the area as well, cops jumping out of the vehicles to cordon off the scene and appraise the situation almost before the squad cars stopped. More flocked to the bus, one tall Asian looking cop helping Clark dismount from the vehicle. Clark allowed the man to help, knowing that any normal man would.
"Sir, I have to ask you to step aside," the cop said, though not unkindly.
Clark nodded wordlessly and stepped away from the accident. He quickly spied out where Lois was standing and went to join her. As he made his way to her, he glimpsed Jimmy jockeying for a better position as he continued to snap photos. Lois gave Clark an unreadable look when he reached her side.
"I had to," he whispered under his breath.
Lois sighed, her expression softening. "I know. Are you okay?"
"I feel fine," he reassured her. It was true. He felt okay - he didn't feel like his heart was racing. If anything, he felt elated that, even without his powers, he'd been able to make a difference.
"Good," Lois said, taking his arm affectionately. "You did a good job, Clark."
"Thanks. I just wish I could have done more."
"You did more than anyone has the right to ask of you. Especially given your health."
Together, they watched the remainder of the rescue, with Clark only being satisfied once every adult and child had been helped out of the bus. Most appeared to have serious, but not life threatening, injuries. Some were treated on the spot for minor wounds, others were whisked immediately away by ambulance. When the last person was tended to, and the police began tow away the vehicles to clear the street, Clark was finally content enough to leave.
"You write the story," he told Lois as they crossed the road and headed for the Daily Planet.
"Okay," she said, nodding, knowing he would never dare touch a story where he, Clark Kent, was involved.
Jimmy was already in the bullpen when they arrived. He didn't even stop to say hello as he ran past to drop his rolls of film off in the dark room. When he emerged later on, wiping his hands off on his gray plaid shirt, Lois had already finished her article. Clark sat across the way, working on a separate investigation.
"I'm going to run this by Perry," Lois announced as she stood up from her chair. She stretched her back awkwardly.
"Everything all right?" Clark asked, noting how she rubbed at her lower back as she stretched.
"I'm fine. I think your son is pressing on a nerve."
Clark nodded. Later that night, he promised himself that he would rub her back until any discomfort was a distant memory. He got up and went to check the fax machine, hoping that the police report he was waiting for had finally come in, only to find that it still hadn't.
"CK!"Jimmy said, as Clark watched Lois make her way through the newsroom.
"Hey, Jimmy. What's up?"
"I saw what you did at the accident. That was pretty incredible," he said in awe.
"Thanks," Clark said, giving his friend a smile.
"I'm serious! The way you pulled that door off. It was like...I dunno...like you were channeling Superman or something."
"It's crazy what the body can do in times of stress," Clark covered easily, shrugging. "I've heard it said that adrenaline can give you strength you never knew you had. Like a mother suddenly being able to lift a car to save her child."
"I've heard the same," Jimmy said, agreeing. "But to see it in action - that was something else. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I thought you did an incredible job. It does make me wonder though."
"Wonder?" Clark echoed, feeling a cold knot of dread begin to form in his stomach.
"About Superman. I mean, where is he? One day he's at every accident and emergency situation there is. Then, suddenly, bam! he's gone without a trace. I don't mean to be harsh. I consider him a friend, and I know the two of you are close and all. But, the world could really use him."
"Believe me, Jimmy, he's got his reasons, I'm sure of that. And I know it's got to be killing him to have to step back from his duties."
"He's coming back, right?" The slight anger in Jimmy's voice turned to worry.
"He's hoping he'll be back in action as soon as possible," Clark said with as much conviction as he could muster. He lightly clapped his friend on the shoulder.
Jimmy nodded, appeased. "Tell him that I hope whatever's keeping him away clears up soon."
"I will."
"Oh, I, uh, had a question for you about the research you wanted me to run on..."
Clark didn't hear the rest of what Jimmy was saying. His chest suddenly tightened and pain began to radiate in his arms. He went to sit down in his desk chair, missed the seat, and collapsed on the floor, his head smacking the tile with a heavy thud. Nausea rolled over him in a perfect copy of his first heart attack.
"CK? CK?" Jimmy called, panicked.
Clark tried to respond, but found himself unable.
"Lois!" Jimmy screamed when Clark didn't respond. "Someone! Help!"
Clark heard Lois come running, her heels clicking loudly against the floor as the newsroom came to an almost never before seen hush, like a movie placed on pause. She dropped to her knees and cradled his head against her, holding him when his pulse skyrocketed.
"Clark? Clark? Can you hear me?"
"I'll call 911," Jimmy said, finally coming around to rational thinking.
"No. I'll drive him to the hospital," Lois said, to Clark's great relief. Neither one wanted paramedics to work on Clark and potentially discover his secret. "Call Dr. Klein. Tell him to meet me at Metropolis General."
"Dr. Klein? But he's not..." Jimmy began to argue.
"I know," Lois snapped in fear and impatience. "Just do it, Jimmy."
"Lois," Clark called softly, as the pain began to recede.
"Hey," she said, soothing him, running a hand along his jaw line. "Are you okay?"
"No," he said, still in pain, but now less so than a minute before. "We need to get to the hospital. Now."
To Be Continued...
