Watching the Kryptonite ravage Clark's body and not being able to do a thing to help him was one of the most difficult things Lois had ever had to do in her life. But watch she did. At the very least, she knew it was better to see what was happening, rather than to step out of the room and let her imagination run rampant creating worst case scenarios. So she stayed by his bedside, watching as his body writhed and contorted in an unconscious effort to get away from the poisonous stone, until, at last, his muscles utterly failed and he lay eerily still.
Thus began her vigil over him. For most of the time, Dr. Klein sat with her, the two of them rendered mute by the gravity of the situation. Once in a while, one of them would silently get up. For Lois, she used those moments to leave the room just long enough to use the restroom and/or retrieve cups of coffee for them both. Dr. Klein always accepted his with a grateful smile, though the deep crevasses of worry never left his face. And each time he left the room for a few brief minutes, he returned the favor with a coffee for Lois.
During those all too short breaks, when Lois ventured out of Clark's room, she took stock of the life support equipment lining the hall outside of his room. She knew it was merely precautionary, in case Clark took a sudden turn for the worse, but it didn't soothe her nerves at all. Instead, it only reminded her how precarious Clark's situation was.
She kept the Kents as informed as she could, calling them to let them know the procedure was well underway and that, so far, Clark was tolerating the experiment. But after the third phone call to let them know that his status was unchanged, she simply promised to call only if something happened. Otherwise, it was pointless to keep getting their hopes up while simultaneously sending their hearts into their throats with fear.
She dozed a few times while she watched over Clark, as did Dr. Klein. The poor man looked utterly beat, and Lois didn't blame him for drifting off as they waited to see how Clark would respond to Sam Lane's idea. She did think of calling Mayson and letting her know what was going on, but thought better of it. She was too mentally and emotionally exhausted to have to explain the treatment theory and defend why she and the Kents had thought it worth the gamble. Besides, did she really want to admit to an attorney that her actions might just kill Superman?
Still, she felt a little guilty. She was sure Mayson would understand why Lois had chosen to take the risk with Clark's health. And she knew in her heart that, even if the worst happened and Clark did die, the woman would never even think to prosecute her. Not that she could, even if she wanted to. Clark had left all medical decisions in Lois' hands. That included any off-the-wall, out of the box, crapshoot experimental procedures that might have any kind of chance of saving his life.
So she didn't make the call and sent the one call Mayson made to her straight to her voicemail.
She half expected the woman to come storming into the hospital, demanding to know why she was being ignored. But the hours passed and she didn't show up. And, really, why would she? Lois had to keep reminding herself that Mayson had no reason to suspect that anything was going on, and that it was also getting very late at night. With a full day of work under her belt and another long day of court ahead of her, Mayson wouldn't have the time to stop by. For that, Lois was glad. Though she and Mayson were making progress on the transition to friendship, she couldn't deal with the woman right now. And, selfishly, if these were to be Clark's final hours, Lois didn't want to share them with anyone else.
So she kept vigil with Dr. Klein, simply because the man refused to leave Superman's side, just in case the worst should happen. And, as much as Lois wanted to be alone with Clark, she was deeply grateful that help was just steps away if Clark's condition faltered. His presence was the only thing that calmed Lois' nerves enough to drift off in random spurts, giving her tired body a fraction of the rest it needed.
All night long and into the next day, Clark remained in his coma. There were no outward signs of the battle raging inside of him. There was no way to know if the treatment was working. But the fact that his status stayed stable gave Lois hope that they hadn't pushed the envelope too far and killed the man she still loved, despite her lingering confliction over his lies and deceit.
Night fell again. Dr. Klein, for the first time since Clark had slipped into his coma, left the room for about two hours to tend to a situation back at S.T.A.R. Labs that required his attention. Lois, for her part, finally gave in to her exhaustion and fell asleep in her chair. She dreamed of Clark while she slept, her imagination placing her back at the restaurant before her disastrous proposal. For the first time since Clark had run off that night, Lois felt a sense of peace and happiness in that dream.
She awoke to someone gently touching her arm.
Dr. Klein, her sleepy mind informed her before her eyes even opened.
She yawned and creaked her eyes open. It took a moment for them to adjust in the brightly lit room.
"Doctor?" she asked, her voice cut by a second yawn. "What's going on?"
"Lois?"
She froze as she jolted into full wakefulness. That wasn't Dr. Klein.
"C...Superman?" she asked, thunderstruck and nearly slipping up in her excitement.
"I'm okay," came the reply.
She could scarcely belief her eyes. There was Clark, reclining on his pillows, smiling at her. His skin was pink with life, that eternal tan of his a healthy bronze, as opposed to the ashen pallor he'd been sporting for nearly twenty-four hours. The familiar twinkle in his eyes had been rekindled and he almost looked strong enough to fly up out of his bed.
"Oh, thank God," she sobbed as a happy tear escaped from one eye. She sprang up out of bed and hugged him. "I was so worried about you."
"You opted for your father's treatment, didn't you?" he asked knowingly.
She nodded shakily as she pulled away again. "I didn't see any other way. Neither did your parents," she responded, noting Dr. Klein's continued absence. "I'm sorry, Clark. I didn't want to expose your body to the Kryptonite, but I just couldn't let you go without a fight."
"Sorry? Lois, you saved my life. I'm thrilled that you chose to give your dad's idea a shot. I wanted to give you the go-ahead for it. I just..." He shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid. He took her hand in his and reverently kissed it. "I owe you my life, Lois. I can't even begin to thank you for all you've done for me these past few days. But, I promise, as soon as Dr. Klein clears me to leave here, I will do whatever it takes to make things up to you...for everything that's happened."
"Clark, you don't have to..."
"No, I want to," he interrupted. "I haven't been a very good friend to you and I've been an even worse boyfriend. I've continuously lied to you and withheld important information from you, simply because I was afraid. And then, after everything came to light, I asked you to make life and death decisions regarding my medical care. I absolutely need to start making amends."
Lois shook her head. "It doesn't matter right now. All that matters is if we truly beat this thing and how you're feeling."
Clark reluctantly nodded. "I feel...okay. Weak, but normal. Or, I guess, what passes for normal for me." He gave her a mischievous grin.
"And your powers?" she asked, running down a mental list of checks that might give her a clue about how close to being fully healed he might be.
Clark fell silent for a good three minutes, during which, his concentration appeared to be on the ceiling above him. Finally, he looked back at Lois.
"Still not back yet," he said, though Lois noted that he didn't seem particularly worried about that. "The sun recharges them, kind of like a battery. I probably need to spend some time in the sunlight before they'll return. That and...how long ago was the Kryptonite removed from the room?"
"Dr. Klein had it in a little lead box. He only kept it open for a short time, while he tried to gauge how close you were getting to the edge, so the virus could die off. Then he shut the box. That was almost twenty-four hours ago."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Under normal circumstances, I can recover from Kryptonite poisoning fairly quickly, but with everything else piled on top of it...who knows?"
Lois was rendered speechless by the nonchalance with which Clark spoke of his missing powers. She knew that, if it were her that was missing a part of herself, she would be panicking. But Clark was calm, collected, and seemingly at peace with his situation. Oh, she knew that his panic could be hidden deep within where it wouldn't outwardly show, but she didn't think that was the case at all. She knew Clark too well for that.
Or, at least, she thought she did. After all, up until a few days ago, she'd thought he was an average man with no kind of secret life at all. How wrong she'd been. Could she trust any of her assumptions that she knew anything about him? It was frustrating to think that she might not actually know anything about Clark with any kind of certainty. It upended her entire view of the world, in a way. Because Clark was the most trustworthy person she'd ever met. If she suddenly couldn't trust him, then who or what could she trust? It rocked her to her very core and scared her more than she could give voice to.
"Lois? Is something the matter?" he asked after a minute or two of silence.
"I...uh...no, everything's fine," she lied.
"Look, if you're worried about my powers, don't be. I'm not. It's not a big deal. They'll be back before you know it and I'll be back to work as Superman." He hesitated, looking uncertain. "Unless...does that bother you?" he asked in a soft tone, almost as if he was ashamed to be discussing the subject at all.
"You going back to being Superman?" she asked in turn, wanting to make sure she was understanding him correctly.
He nodded. "Yes."
"If I said yes, that it did bother me, could you give it up?"
She wasn't sure why she was asking such a thing. She would never be able to demand that of him. The world needed Superman. And, more importantly, she saw all too clearly that Clark needed to be Superman for his own sake. But she wanted to know the answer anyway. It was almost like a test in her mind, to see if he would tell her the truth or not.
"Truthfully? I would try anything for you, Lois. But...in this one thing...I'd fail. He's a part of me, Lois. I don't think I could ever stand by and watch people in trouble, knowing I could help. I'm sorry, Lois. If that's a deal breaker, I'll understand."
"No," she replied gently. "It isn't. I don't want you to stop doing what you do. Despite everything, I know you need to be Superman, maybe even more than the world needs you to be Superman."
He chuckled softly. "That may be true." Then, sobering, "But I don't need Superman more than I need you, Lois. I hope you know that. Without you, there wouldn't even be a Superman. You inspired the idea, even if you didn't realize it. And, without you, I wouldn't have the strength to keep putting on the suit every day."
"You don't have to worry about me," Lois tried to reassure him. "Yeah, it's true that this is going to take some adjusting to. And yeah, it's also true that you and I still have a lot to talk about and work through. But I'll stand by you as you go around saving the world day after day. I'll cover for you at work or at social engagements or what-have-you. I'll be there if you need to talk after some disaster or another. I really am fine with you being Superman."
Now that you're being honest about the Superman thing, at any rate, her mind whispered to her. We still have a lot to work out between us about the all of the years you lied to me.
***
Dr. Klein kept Clark overnight for monitoring. Lois had thought that Clark might fight the doctor's overly cautious attitude, but, surprisingly, he graciously accepted the extra night in the hospital, claiming that it would put his own mind at ease to be there, in case the virus hadn't truly been knocked out of his system. So Lois left the hospital alone, making a relieved beeline for Clark's apartment, to share the wonderful news of Clark's restored health with his parents. Martha cried with joy and Jonathan clasped his hands together and sent "thank you" after "thank you" to the heavens.
For the first time since before their anniversary dinner, Lois slept well. So well, in fact, that she overslept completely and only awoke when Clark knocked on her door late in the morning. He'd flown over, he told her, setting her anxiety over his missing powers to rest. She hugged him tightly, then sent him on his way to see his parents, but not before he swore that they would talk about everything that night, insisting that she come over to his place.
Lois wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him to spend the time with his parents, that they had all the time in the world to talk about his secret, but she held her tongue at the sight of the naked fear that he might still lose her haunting his eyes. So she agreed, promising to stop by around seven o'clock that evening. Joy lit up his face and some of the terror in his eyes vanished.
It made her feel good inside, to see Clark looking back to his old self, but she honestly had no idea what she might say to him that night.
Still, at five minutes to seven, she arrived on his doorstep. She raised her fist to knock, but before she could, he was opening the door. A shy smile was on his face. Relief was there too, as though he'd perhaps doubted that she really would show up.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi," she replied.
"Come on in. Dinner's almost ready."
"Dinner? Clark, you've been out of the hospital less than twelve hours and you're cooking?" she asked, surprised.
He shrugged. "Why not? I told you, I feel completely back to normal, thanks to you taking that chance on your father's treatment idea."
"I just...shouldn't you be taking it easy, at least for a couple of days?"
He chuckled. "I find cooking relaxing, Lois. Or, at least, it's relaxing compared to my usual, uh, hobbies."
Lois took a moment to inhale the wonderful scents that drenched the room and were making her mouth water. "Really? Cooking gives me anxiety. Well, relaxing or not for you, it certainly smells delicious."
"Thanks."
She followed him as he headed into the kitchen. He pulled open the oven and checked on what was inside.
"Looks like we're all ready to eat," he said.
"Great! What are we having?" She tried to sneak a peek at whatever was inside the oven and on the stovetop.
"Chicken cacciatore over ziti and garlic bread. Is that okay?"
"Mmm," she replied with a nod. "How'd you know chicken cacciatore is one of my favorites?"
He shrugged again as he reached into the oven - sans oven mitt - and pulled out a cookie sheet laden with toasty, golden bread. "You mentioned it in passing once, during one of our first investigations together. It was during that stakeout, when we had that really terrible Italian takeout."
Lois nodded absently at the memory. "Right. The Warner case. What was the name of that restaurant again?"
"Uh...Pauline's," he said as he starting bringing the food to the table.
"Yeah, that was it," Lois said, taking the basket of bread from his hands and bringing it to the table for him. "I wouldn't go back there if my life depended on it."
"That ravioli should have been registered as a lethal substance," Clark joked with a shake of his head.
"And that sauce! Or was it wallpaper paste?" Lois joked in turn.
How easy it was, slipping back into her normal realm of comfort around Clark! But, would it last? That was the question. There was still a lot they had to talk about. And when that conversation began, would Lois ever feel the same toward Clark again? What other secrets did he hold?
***
"I hope you like it," Clark said nervously, his fork poised in midair, ready to dig into the meal he'd cooked especially for Lois.
He hoped the little details - remembering that chicken cacciatore was one of Lois' favorite meals, her preference for garlic bread rather than just plain butter, her favorite brand of cream soda - would help her realize how much he truly loved her. So far, everything seemed to be going well. She appeared to be at ease with him, for the time being, at least. He only hoped that, after the conversation to come, she would still be able to tolerate him.
She'd refused to discuss the Superman thing with him throughout his illness. He understood why, of course. Neither one of them had been in the right frame of mind to talk about such serious matters. He'd barely been able to breathe at times, let alone have a prolonged conversation the way they needed to. And Dr. Klein had popped in and out of his room more often than Clark cared to admit, fretting over Clark's worsening condition. Clark couldn't blame the doctor. He was grateful for the doctor's diligence and watchful eye, but it had restricted their already limited discussions. Even Mayson had been a problem. She'd insisted on checking in every night, and while Clark appreciated her friendship and support, he hadn't really wanted an audience when he and Lois would finally clear the air between them.
And then there was the fact that, with everything that had been happening, Lois probably hadn't had a chance to really process how she felt about his deception and lies. Even now, he couldn't be sure she'd really gotten a chance to sort out her feelings on the subject. That was why he felt it was so important that they talk things over sooner rather than later. While Lois' feelings - whatever they were - were perfectly valid, he knew she had a tendency to blame herself and to wildly over-imagine things. He didn't want her getting the wrong ideas about why he'd done what he'd done. He didn't want her to think that there were other things he was hiding on her. He needed her to know that he was now a completely honest and open book to her, that she could ask him anything at all and be given a truthful and detailed answer.
But not just yet. Not over dinner.
"So, where are your parents?" she asked as she cut dainty pieces of her food, studiously not looking at him, it seemed.
"They wanted to give us some space, so they went out to dinner and out dancing," he replied, sipping at his glass of lemon water.
Lois paused, her fork in midair. "Dancing? Like, at a club?"
Clark chuckled. "Not quite. They went to Palisade. You know, that upscale place down by docks? It's ballroom dancing night, and Mom's always wanted to try that."
"Ah," she said in understanding. Then she took a bite of the food. He watched as her eyes rolled up blissfully in their sockets, they way they always did when she was tasting something she truly enjoyed. "Oh my God, Clark. This is amazing!" she pronounced after swallowing it down. "Where'd you learn to make this?"
"My mom," he said proudly. "Everything here has been prepared the way she taught me."
"You may have missed your calling as a chef," she said.
He laughed lightly. "Nah. Journalism has been pretty good to me," he said with a grin.
"We'll see," Lois replied neutrally, arching an eyebrow at him.
"In any case, I'm glad you like it. It's actually my first attempt at making it. I, uh, I was a little nervous and nearly burnt the chicken."
Lois nodded. "Well, it really is good, Clark. Thanks for making it for me."
"You're welcome," he said sincerely. "If you'll let me, I'll definitely make it again for you, whenever you want."
If you're still talking to me, after our talk tonight, he sighed in his heart.
"Maybe," she said in a non-committal tone. "But you'll be far too busy in the near future to be cooking for anyone."
"Right. My atonement," he said with a slight dip of his head. "Lois, I want you know, I'm ready and more than willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust and good graces. Chocolate from Switzerland? You've got it. Snow from the Andes? Just let me grab a cooler to put it in. Sushi from Tokyo? In a heartbeat. A trip to Hawaii, just to watch the sun set? I'm your very own, private jet."
"Clark, that's sweet and all, but, well, it's not what I meant."
"Oh?"
"I meant, you and I are both going to be busy figuring out how a Kryptonian virus was present at a nuclear facility. Who put it there? Why? If you ask me, the whole thing reeks of a murder plot."
Clark nodded and sighed. "You're probably right. It is pretty weird that something not of this Earth was suddenly exactly where I'd be pretty much guaranteed to be."
A thought occurred to him and sent a shiver down his spine. His entire body shuttered in response.
"What it is?" Lois asked, sounding concerned.
"Well, I just had this thought. It's no coincidence that the virus was at a disaster where Superman would be, right? And I started feeling unwell shortly after arriving on the scene. What if...the reactor leak wasn't exactly...an accident?"
"You mean...someone may have sabotaged the reactor to lure you in?" Lois asked.
"I don't know. Maybe. It's just a thought and I hope I'm wrong, but I don't think we can discount it. I think I'll have a word with the authorities and whatever experts they may have called in on the case."
"Let's hope you're wrong," Lois said, her voice trembling with a lack of conviction.
***
"Okay," Clark said as he settled down on the far end of the couch, taking his cues from the way Lois was sitting. "The dishes are done and the leftovers packed for you to take home later. I'm ready to tell you everything and answer all your questions. No more lies. I promise."
"Any yet, here you sit, still wearing your glasses," she pointed out. "Isn't that, in itself, a lie? You probably have the best vision on the planet. What do you need glasses for?"
"Yes and no," he hedged. "My glasses are a part of me, Lois. No, I don't need them. I just...I thought maybe it might be easier, if I kept them on for tonight. I want you to feel comfortable with me, Lois. I thought that, if I looked like the Clark you've come to know - glasses and all - it might help. Because that's who I am. I'm not Superman. Not really. He's not a real person. He's just a costume and an alias I use as a cover, so I can continue to have a real life as myself while still helping people. This," he said, gesturing to himself as he sat there, "is the real me, Lois. Fake glasses and all."
"I know," she said softly. "It's just...it's hard, reconciling the two of you as one man. I mean, I get it. Superman's a job for you, no different than if you delivered pizzas during the hours you aren't writing for the paper. But to have thought of you as two different men and now to recognize that one of them never really existed...it's a bit of a mind trip."
"I can imagine. In the beginning, when I first started as Superman, it was so strange to me, to have to think of myself as two different people. I had to keep Superman as far away from Clark as I could. I started talking about myself in the third person. It drove my mother crazy. And there were times when I was ready to just give up, because it was too hard to try and live two different lives."
"But you didn't," Lois said.
"No, I didn't," he admitted. "And that was due mostly to you. You always said just the right things to me when I needed it most, and it gave me the strength and determination to keep going. It was incredible. You had no idea that I was Superman - or, more accurately, that I was struggling to be Superman - but you always managed to give me the pep talk I needed."
"Really?" She sounded touched by his admission.
He simply nodded.
"Well, then, I'm flattered."
"In a way," he continued, "it makes you a hero. You are the woman who saved Superman."
"Twice," she pointed out with a little pride showing.
"More than twice," he replied sincerely.
To Be Continued...
