“...and so we thought you might enjoy having the place to yourself for the weekend.”
Clark paused and looked hopefully across the table at CK. He didn’t, Clark thought, look particularly upset by the news that they were intending to take off for Smallville without him. Rather, he looked preoccupied with something else. His eyes were glazed over as if he hadn’t heard a word Clark had said to him.
“CK?” Lois prompted. “Did you hear what Clark said?”
He blinked and focused on her. “Sorry. You said you’re going to Smallville for the weekend?”
“Yes, with Jon,” said Clark. “You’ll be here on your own. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” he replied, although it seemed to Clark that he still hadn’t properly registered what they were telling him. Something was weighing heavily on CK’s mind – that much was clear. Clark wondered what it could be. Was he having second thoughts about Superman again? He’d seemed pretty comfortable during the last few days when he’d been taking Clark’s place, although Clark was aware that he hadn’t really had to cope with anything particularly demanding. Maybe he was worried that he couldn’t deal with a major incident. Or had something happened with Jon today that was bothering him?
“CK, is everything okay?” asked Clark. “You seem...well, a little preoccupied.”
“Do I? Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. So, you’ll be taking Jon, I guess?”
Hadn’t Clark just told him that? “Yes, we’re taking Jon,” he repeated patiently. “You’ll have the house to yourself.”
CK nodded. “Actually...” He hesitated for a second. “I think I’ll take the opportunity to go back home for a couple of days.”
Clark nearly gasped. Of all the things he might have expected CK to say, that had never occurred to him! “Why?” he said. “I mean, not that you shouldn’t – I think it’s great that you’re thinking about it, actually – but why now?”
He didn’t add that he’d thought CK had made up his mind not to leave without Jon! Clark’s hopes soared momentarily – did this mean he was thinking of leaving Jon here for good? But no, he’d implied that he’d be back after a couple of days. Clark shoved his hopes back into a box and mentally knocked a few nails into the lid. Of course CK hadn’t given up his ambition to take Jon home; neither would Clark if he were in CK’s position.
“Well, I thought maybe I could start getting things ready for when I go home for good. I could look for a place to live, sort out my finances – that kind of thing,” replied CK.
Clark nodded. “Sounds like a great idea, CK.”
Okay, so it was more likely he was hoping to prepare things for when he took Jon home. Well, that was sensible. Clark would do the same, and he found that he was genuinely glad that CK was planning ahead. It meant that CK was at last thinking realistically about his future instead of dwelling on the past. And Jon would have a more stable home if...
Clark shoved that thought back in its box, too. He wasn’t ready to think in such definite terms of losing Jon to CK.
“Thanks,” said CK. “There’s one other thing...”
He seemed about to continue, but then hesitated. Slowly, his troubled gaze slid away from theirs to focus on some distant point on the floor.
After waiting fruitlessly for CK to continue, Clark shared a look of concern with Lois – whatever was eating away at him was obviously pretty major. Clark also had the feeling that it affected them as much as CK. Lois clearly felt the same, her hand moving across the table to rest over his. He clasped her hand and squeezed gently.
She nodded slightly and turned to CK. “What is it, CK?”
He raised troubled eyes to her. “Lois, this affects you – but also you, Clark,” he added, including Clark in his gaze. “I think in our enthusiasm to help you guys have a child of your own, we let ourselves forget something pretty important. Lois,” he said, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “Do you remember how my Lois died? The circumstances...?”
***********
It was as if someone had just thrown a bucket of freezing water all over her. Yes, she instantly remembered it with cold clarity – the other Lois had died because she’d insisted on carrying CK’s half-alien baby to term, despite a complicated and increasingly dangerous pregnancy. The implication was obvious.
Clark’s hand tightened immediately on her own and she turned to him quickly. “Honey, it might not be the same for us!”
But she could see the tension in his face, and knew that he was already blaming himself all over again for being alien. She felt awful, too, because this meant that all their hopes had been dashed in an instant. Just when they’d thought they were beginning to find a way to have kids together, fate threw another obstacle in their path.
She whirled around to CK. “It needn’t be the same for us!” she insisted. “Tell him, CK!”
“I-I don’t know,” he stammered. “I only know what Perry told me.”
“Maybe he was wrong! Maybe he misunderstood what the hospital told him. He’s not a doctor...Clark, it could have been anything,” she said desperately, swinging back to her husband. “You know better than to believe an uncorroborated story.”
“It all adds up, Lois,” he said tightly. “Face it, honey – we’re just not meant to have kids. It’s unnatural, two different species having children together.”
“No, Clark!” she said. “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you *ever* dare say that,” she said fiercely. “He’s wrong, isn’t he, CK?”
“I-I’m not sure. But that’s why I have to go back,” he said. “I’m going to visit the hospital and ask them what really happened.”
“You see, honey? He’ll go to the hospital and they’ll tell him it was something else, won’t they CK?” She looked at Clark’s taut features and gripped his hand tightly with both of hers. “Clark...don’t give up so easily,” she pleaded.
He closed his eyes and dropped his head. “Lois, I’m sorry I make things so hard for you,” he murmured.
“Honey, you don’t!” she protested softly. She glanced helplessly at CK over the table. “Tell him, CK.”
But CK seemed unable to reassure them. “I...I hope it’s not true. And I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to find out the truth. You guys deserve the best, that’s for sure.”
“Thanks, CK,” she replied automatically, although her heart wasn’t really in it. He wasn’t helping at all by just sitting there and promising to do his best – Clark needed reassurance and CK just wasn’t supplying it. “Can you give us a minute, CK?” she said.
“Oh. Sure,” he replied with a note of surprise in his voice.
She waited until he’d left them alone, then put her arm over Clark’s bowed shoulders. “Hey,” she said softly. “This isn’t like you. You usually roll with the punches. I’m the one who has to be told to pick herself up and start fighting again.”
He sighed heavily. “I know,” he said, raising his gaze to her face. “I guess I’m obsessing, aren’t I?”
She reached up and stroked the side of his face. “Just a little. But I also think you’re a little depressed, and that’s upsetting your sense of balance about these things.”
“It isn’t fair, Lois,” he said huskily. “We nearly had it all figured out, and now this. Why us? Why is it always us?”
“Lots of couples have problems like this,” she said. “We’re no different to them, really.”
“But we are, Lois,” he insisted. “Because of me. I’m different.”
“Clark, don’t say it like that. Yes, you’re different, but I married you for those differences. I love your differences,” she told him.
“But you wouldn’t be in danger of dying from carrying my child if I wasn’t different,” he said. His hand closed over hers on the side of his face. “And meanwhile CK is off home to make things ready for when he takes our son away.” He paused. “Call...call that a lot depressed,” he murmured with a catch in his voice.
Wordlessly, she drew him into her arms. She held him tightly - fiercely, almost – trying to give him the extra strength he needed. She supposed that negative thoughts like these were pretty unfamiliar territory for Clark; he didn’t usually let things get on top of him so badly. He was probably right, she thought – he was suffering from a fairly deep bout of depression.
The trouble was, she wasn’t really up to talking him out of it.
Just as well they were going to Smallville this weekend. Clark’s spirits almost always improved when he was on the farm, and his parents would help both of them.
*************
“Hey!” Clark glared at Jon, who was sitting on the carpet opposite him with a broad grin on his face. “You did that on purpose!”
Jon grinned wider, leant over the nearly-defunct tower of bricks and waved a determined little arm through the remains, scattering bricks everywhere. Then he looked up at his Daddy with a cheeky, upturned face and giggled.
“This child has a great future ahead of him as a demolition man,” Clark said dryly to his father.
Jonathan laughed. “Son, you were just as destructive at his age.” He turned his attention back to the small wooden trolley on his lap. One of the wheels had lost its rubber tread, and he was fitting a new one. He tugged it into place and spun the wheel. “Good as new,” he said with satisfaction.
Leaning down from his chair, he placed the trolley on the carpet. “There you go, Jon. Show Grandpa how good you are at walking.”
“Dad, I don’t think he’s old enough for that,” said Clark, as Jon crawled energetically across the carpet towards the trolley.
Jonathan cocked at eyebrow at his son. “We’ll see.”
They watched Jon reach the trolley and begin to push it experimentally with one hand. When it moved, he grinned and looked up at Jonathan. “That’s it, Jon,” encouraged Jonathan. He reached down, grasped the handlebar and pushed it back and forth a few times. “See, Jon? Now you try.”
Jon reached up towards the handle, but didn’t seem to comprehend that he needed to stand up to reach it. Clark hoisted him to his feet and helped him grasp the handle, but every time Clark withdrew his support, Jon folded back down onto his bottom.
“I don’t think he’s interested,” said Clark, giving up and letting Jon play with the trolley in his own way.
Jonathan shrugged. “He’ll figure it out soon enough. He’s a smart kid.”
Clark nodded. “Yeah.” Clark fell quiet, gazing thoughtfully at his son.
Jonathan watched him, observing his preoccupied expression and the tense muscle jumping along his jaw. So far, Jonathan had kept his peace and not probed into his son’s troubles, despite the clear signs that he was quite deeply depressed about something. Clark would ask for help if he needed it, Jonathan had reasoned. But seeing Clark’s long face and lacklustre eyes as he watched his baby play made Jonathan decide to offer the chance for Clark to talk after all.
“Clark, I know you and Lois came here for a break,” he said tentatively, “but if you want to talk about whatever’s bothering you, you know I’m a pretty good listener.”
Clark looked up and smiled weakly. “I know, Dad.” He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair wearily. “The thing is, I’m not sure where I’d start.”
Jonathan nodded, recognising his difficulty. “Starting’s usually the hardest part. Why don’t you just jump in somewhere and I’ll catch you up?”
Clark watched Jon quietly for a few more moments before replying. “There’s a chance Lois and I will be able to have kids of our own,” he said softly, his eyes still on Jon.
“That’s good news, isn’t it?” said Jonathan, understanding from Clark’s lack of enthusiasm that the issue wasn’t that straightforward.
“Yes. But there’s an even better chance that Lois would die giving birth to a child of mine.” Clark reached out and stroked Jon’s head fondly. “Just like this little guy’s biological mother.”
Jonathan’s gaze darted to Jon, remembering at once the sad circumstances of his birth. “But you don’t know for sure?” he said hopefully.
“No, that’s why CK has gone back – to ask the hospital where she died.” Clark sighed heavily again. “I know this is going to sound stupid and insecure, Dad, but it just seems like I’m the cause of all our problems right now. I’m the one stopping us from having kids, and even if we did manage to conceive, I’m the reason Lois could die.”
“Son, we always knew that things would be different for you,” pointed out Jonathan.
“I know, and I thought I’d gotten over that. I mean, I’m in my mid-thirties – if I haven’t come to terms with being different by now... But this just seems to have brought it all back.” He looked up at Jonathan. “Just for this one thing, I wish I was normal. I really, really wish it, Dad.”
Jonathan pursed his lips, hearing the quiet despair in his son’s voice and wishing there was something he could do to help. The thing was, he totally understood Clark’s desperation, having experienced the same feelings himself. There was nothing that could cause the same aching sense of loss and impotency as not being able to have kids.
“But look at what you’d lose, Clark,” he said, falling back on the tried and tested formula. “You’re special-“
“I don’t want to be special, Dad!” Clark interrupted. “You and Mom always bring that one up – so does Lois, even – but this time I just want to be normal. I don’t want tests and theories and more tests. I don’t want Dr Klein giving me and Lois advice on our sex life and handing out lists of infertility treatments. I don’t want CK telling me my wife might die if she has my child. I don’t even want to be told I’m special, amazing as that might seem,” he added, a heavy note of irony creeping into his voice. “I just want to be normal!”
Clark was almost shouting by the time he finished his outburst and Jonathan glanced at the doorway to the lounge, half-expecting either Lois or Martha to appear wanting to know what was up. When they didn’t come, he turned his attention back to his son, who was pinching the bridge of his nose in a pained gesture. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
Jonathan brushed off his apology. Clark had obviously needed to yell about it to someone, and Jonathan was more than happy to be that someone. It had been a long time since Clark had become so upset about his special circumstances, and Jonathan thought it just as well that he’d let go of his bottled-up feelings. He also decided that a longer talk was in order. “Let’s take a walk,” he said, standing up. “Your mother can take Jon for a while.”
*************
Coming back to his own world after a second longish absence was a strange and unnerving experience for CK. Confusingly, he’d felt totally like an outsider. Everyone else moved purposefully about their daily business, while he’d watched uselessly, like a spare part, from the sidelines. He hadn’t expected that. When he’d arrived back from New Krypton, he’d been on the point of total collapse, both mentally and physically. This time, though, he’d been in a much more positive frame of mind, so to still feel alienated in his home world came as something of a shock. He’d wondered whether he was ever going to feel like he belonged anywhere ever again.
But soon he’d become too busy to think about such things. Chasing down an apartment to rent took up a lot of his time, as did re-activating his frozen bank accounts and reclaiming his possessions from Perry’s basement.
In between all that, he’d made phone call after phone call to the hospital to try and trace anyone who had dealt with Lois.
And now here he was. He sank uneasily onto a sludge-brown plastic chair in the hospital waiting room and gazed around the room. It was a depressing place, with battered walls and dog-eared health notices stuck up with yellowing sellotape. Everyone around him looked lifeless and dull, as if they’d already written themselves off as hopeless cases.
So this was where Lois had spent her last days. He’d seen cheerier morgues. He could only hope that the in-patient rooms were brighter. The thought of her giving birth in surroundings like this was horribly depressing. The thought of her dying here left him even sadder – and outraged that she’d had to die so sordidly.
He’d wanted to come here to find out the truth about her death, but now that he was actually here, he wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision. Better to imagine her passing away peacefully in the care of warm, kind-hearted professionals than to face the stark reality of this place.
“Mr Kent?”
He looked up to find a slim, competent-looking thirty-something woman looking down at him through large, red-rimmed spectacles.
“Yes,” he replied, standing up automatically.
“I’m Dr Fielding,” she announced, offering her hand.
He shook it. “Thanks for agreeing to see me, Dr Fielding.”
“Uh, huh,” she murmured noncommittally. “If you’ll follow me?”
He nodded and walked the short distance with her to her office. This was better – she’d disguised the scuffed dirty-cream walls with a few cheery pot plants and a couple of Monet prints. The fake-beech furniture was fairly new and fresh-looking and sunlight streamed in through the window.
“Take a seat,” she said, settling into her own chair behind the desk and indicating a chair opposite.
CK sat. “So what can you tell me about Lois, Dr Fielding?” he asked.
“Well, as you know, I was the doctor assigned to her case,” she said, looking down at some notes on her desk. “I’m afraid Lois was a fairly sick woman when she came under my care, Mr Kent.”
Ck nodded. “I understand she’d had a tough time throughout the pregnancy.”
**********
Clark ambled slowly alongside his father, feeling more than a little foolish for having lost his cool in such an immature outburst. He hadn’t yelled at his Dad for not being normal since he’d been a kid. He’d even included Lois in his rant, and that was totally unfair. She was the one being let down in all of this, not him. She was the one who couldn’t have children because of him.
“Did I ever tell you why we couldn’t have kids?” said his father suddenly.
Clark thought back quickly, but realised he’d never enquired. It hadn’t seemed appropriate to ask, even if he’d wondered about the cause from time to time. “No. It seemed like an ungrateful question to ask, I guess.”
“It was me,” said his father, catching Clark off-guard with his bluntness.
Clark nodded a little awkwardly, not used to discussing such personal matters with his father. A quick glance reassured him that his Dad wasn’t at all uncomfortable about discussing the subject, even if he was himself. “Did they find out why?” he asked, interested despite his own embarrassment.
“Not fully. Oh, we had plenty of tests done, but in those days people didn’t know as much about infertility as they do now,” replied his father. “There’s probably a simple operation nowadays for whatever caused it.”
“So you just had to accept there was a problem that couldn’t be fixed.”
His father laughed dryly. “Oh, we didn’t accept anything! We tried everything, from old wives’ tales to trendy hippy-style cures. Your mother acquired a huge library of books on the subject.” Jonathan smiled fondly. “She was never one to quit easily.”
Clark nodded. “She’d want to learn everything there was to know about it.”
“Yes. And everyone had advice for us - that was the worst part. Wherever we went, people wanted to talk to us about it.” Jonathan chuckled. “Or worse still, tried everything they could *not* to talk about it.”
“I bet that was the worst of all,” agreed Clark.
His father shook his head. “No, actually, the worst part was knowing it was all my fault. That was tough, Clark. Your Mom deserved to have kids and I knew she’d be a wonderful mother, and there I was, an inadequate husband who couldn’t give her those kids.”
Clark gazed in consternation at his Dad. “Surely you never really thought that?”
“Believe me, Clark, I did. Those were pretty low times for me – I even considered offering your mother a divorce.”
“You’re kidding!” Clark exclaimed in horror.
His Dad shrugged. “I was young. And probably too wrapped up in my own depression to see sense. Luckily your mother had enough sense for both of us and I was never given the chance to wreck our marriage over it.”
Jonathan stopped walking and placed his hands either side of Clark to draw him around face to face. “The point is, son – I know what you’re going through. I know how hard it is for you.”
Clark stared deep into his father’s eyes, seeing there the love and concern for his son’s well-being. A lump formed in his throat and he had to drop his gaze to the ground. “It is hard, Dad,” he said. “It’s tearing me apart inside. And I sort of hate myself for that – I mean, Lois is as much affected by all this as I am. I ought to be supporting her, instead of wallowing in my own feelings.”
“I’m sure you give Lois plenty of support, son – just as she helps you. You two are talking about this, aren’t you?”
Clark grimaced. “All the time. We don’t talk about much else, in fact.”
Jonathan sighed. “Sounds familiar. But try not to make it the only thing that matters in your lives. I know that’s hard, but you’ll only make yourselves miserable if you do.”
The lump in Clark’s throat grew larger. “I am pretty...”
“I know. You have to stop blaming yourself, Clark.” He felt his father’s hands tighten on his upper arms; felt how much his Dad wanted to convince and reassure him. “If there’s one thing I learnt all those years ago, it was that it didn’t matter why we couldn’t have kids. What mattered was that we shared the problem and dealt with it together, as equal partners.”
“Yeah.”
His Dad turned and started walking again. Clark fell in beside him, and together they ambled along without talking for a while. Clark was grateful for the chance to pull himself together and reflect on his father’s advice. There was no doubt it was sound. He couldn’t help thinking his and Lois’s situation was far more complicated than his father’s, but he resolved to do his best to follow that advice. Wallowing in self-pity certainly wasn’t doing him any good.
“So how are the tests going so far?” asked his Dad after a few minutes.
Clark shrugged. “We haven’t really gotten started yet. I guess the good news is that Dr Klein says I’m already improving from the very first tests he did.” Clark went on to explain the kryptonite theory. “So if we could just find a way to speed up the healing process, we’d have a good chance of having a kid.”
He sighed heavily. “If that’s even worth trying, of course. There’s no way I’d want Lois to be in any danger.”
His Dad nodded his understanding. “Speed you up, huh?” He chuckled. “You’re already pretty fast, son.”
Clark smiled wryly. “I guess so. Not fast enough for this, though.”
“I remember when you thought you were too fast,” added his Dad. “Didn’t you accidentally drill a hole in the road?”
“Yeah, Perry’s son and the red krypton...” Clark stopped suddenly. A memory had just hit him like a bolt from the blue.
Red kryptonite! It sent his powers into overdrive – surely that meant his whole body had been on fast-forward. And if that was the case, maybe it would speed up his healing abilities, too!
“Dad, you’re a genius!” he exclaimed, clapping a hand on his father’s shoulder.
Jonathan looked nonplussed. “I am?”
“Yes...” Clark took a few moments to explain his new theory. “Come on, we have to tell Lois!” he said, turning around quickly to hurry back to the farmhouse.
***********
CK pushed the door of his new apartment open and stepped inside. Packing cases still littered the lounge, and to one side, a solitary two-seater sofa sat forlornly – the only piece of furniture he’d managed to pick up so far. Still, it wasn’t a bad place, he thought, surveying the room slowly. Nice and roomy, with a good-sized bathroom, a nice kitchen and, of course, a second bedroom.
His eyes settled on the door to that room. He’d make it really bright and cheerful in there – lots of sunny colours and cheery fabrics. Plenty of storage, too. That was one thing he’d learnt from Lois and Clark – you could never have enough storage when you had kids.
He picked his way through the packing cases and sat on the sofa, setting the package he’d been carrying on his lap. Pulling away the wrapping, he gazed down at the brightly-coloured box with a smile. Okay, so it had been an impulse buy, but after his visit to the hospital, he’d needed something to cheer himself up with. Feeling like a kid at Christmas time, he opened the box and lifted out his prize possession.
The toy truck was exactly right, he decided. Not too big, not too small. It had interesting knobs and levers to push and pull, and best of all, a siren and lights that flashed when you pushed it along the carpet. Jon would love it.
He placed it on the floor and settled back on the sofa. Yes, he was jumping the gun, but he’d promised himself he wouldn’t go mad and buy any more baby things just yet. The truck was just his lucky charm. It would be here waiting for his son if his dream ever came true and Clark and Lois decided to give CK custody. And he felt really good about buying something for his very own little boy.
Gazing at the packing cases again, his thoughts wandered back to his meeting with Dr Fielding at the hospital. He’d been lucky she’d been willing to tell him so much about Lois, really.
“Have you heard of a condition called preeclampsia, Mr Kent?” she’d asked, looking up from her notes.
“Um...sort of,” he’d replied. “It affects pregnant women, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. It affects around one in twenty women here in the US, and is characterised by high blood pressure and a range of associated symptoms. Lois developed the condition fairly early during her second trimester.” Dr Fielding sighed heavily. “We’re usually pretty effective at managing the condition, Mr Kent – a combination of bed rest and medication controls the blood pressure, and often the mother delivers normally. I’m afraid this wasn’t the case with Lois.”
Clark digested the information. He’d heard of women being sent to bed during their pregnancy, but hadn’t known why. High blood pressure – okay, that made sense, but now he needed to know what could cause that. And why hadn’t the usual treatment worked for Lois?
“I’m guessing that bed rest didn’t go down too well with Lois,” he said.
Dr Fielding nodded with a regretful smile. “But she was pretty good. She clearly wanted to give that baby every chance she could.”
“So what went wrong?” he asked.
“Who knows? We did everything we possibly could, but we just couldn’t control her condition. It happens, Mr Kent – rarely, but it does happen.” Dr Fielding gave him another look of regret and looked down at her notes again.
He watched her shuffle the papers around for a few moments. Something didn’t ring true. She’d been open with him at the start of their meeting, but now she seemed to have clammed up. Why?
The silence between them stretched out further.
“What aren’t you telling me?” he blurted out suddenly.
She looked up slowly. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mr Kent. I’ve told you why Lois died.”
“But there’s something else, isn’t there?” he insisted. “Something contentious that you don’t want to admit to.”
This was it, he was sure. This was the real reason she’d died, and it would be because he was an alien. He leaned forward and looked straight at her. “Please tell me, Dr Fielding,” he implored. “You’ve no idea how important this is.”
She frowned. “I’ve already told you more than I should. You’re not even a relative.”
“I nearly married her!” he exclaimed impatiently. “Isn’t that close enough?”
She glanced down at her notes again and drummed her fingers on the desk thoughtfully. “Mr Kent, may I ask you something personal?”
“Anything you like,” he replied, prepared to tell her just about anything she wanted to know if it would persuade her to tell him more about Lois.
“Were you the father of Lois’s baby?”
“Of course I am!” he said. “I thought you already knew that.”
She reached over the desk and placed a hand on his arm. “You didn’t actually mention it,” she said softly. “I’m sorry – this must be very upsetting for you.”
“I’m fine,” he replied gruffly. He hadn’t realised he’d been showing his feelings so obviously. He took a deep breath. “But thank you for asking.”
She gave his arm a quick squeeze and continued. “Usually, in serious cases like Lois’s, we’d deliver the baby early. That way we reduce the risk to Mom and the baby has a reasonable chance of survival, even though it’s premature. Lois refused to let us do that. She must have really wanted that baby, Mr Kent. She didn’t want us to do anything to endanger its life, even if it meant risking her own.”
“Oh.” Lois must have been so scared. All on her own, sick, and knowing that her doctors had never dealt with a case like hers before. She’d had to make decisions and face a situation no-one should have to cope with alone. A large lump formed in his throat and tears pricked the back of his eyes. He screwed them up and tried to stem the threatened flow by pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry,” he said roughly, as tears escaped around his fingers despite his efforts.
“It’s okay,” said Dr Fielding. “Of course, we argued with her. We did everything in our powers to persuade her to change her mind, but in the end we were forced to accept her choice. We were only permitted to intervene if the baby’s health looked to be at risk. Mr Kent, I have to tell you, she was a very brave young woman.”
He fought with his runaway emotions, telling himself to get a grip. It wasn’t as if he’d learnt anything he didn’t already know. Perry had told him before that Lois had ignored medical advice and carried Jon to term. It just hadn’t seemed so real as it did now, sitting in the very hospital where she’d died.
The ultimate sacrifice.
He’d always thought it an overly-dramatic phrase, but it fit Lois’s choice exactly. She’d given her life so that his son could have the very best start in life.
How he wished he’d been with her, had known her exact thoughts. He’d have talked her out of it.
“So,” he said, but the word turned into a half-sob and he had to begin again. “So what caused the preeclampsia?”
“Well, there are a number-“
“Could it have been because of who I am?” he blurted, opening his eyes to look at her. “You...you do know...?”
She nodded. “Yes. I wasn’t going to mention it, since you hadn’t...you have a right to be treated just like anyone else, after all.” She smiled suddenly. “We missed you, Superman. It’s good to have you back.”
“Th-thanks,” he said, still a little uncomfortable with being reminded of his other persona. “So could Lois’s condition have been caused by me?”
Dr Fielding frowned, then looked down to study her notes for a while, drumming her fingers again on the desk. Clark tried to read the notes upside-down, but they were written in an illegible scrawl, and the few words he could make out looked highly technical and totally incomprehensible.
“That’s an easy solution to fall back on,” she said finally. “Blame the unfamiliar, because that way no-one can argue with you. But in Lois’s case, I don’t think we can do that. The fact is, we don’t actually have a good understanding of the causes of preeclampsia. We do know, however, that five per cent of pregnant women will suffer from it. Forget unknown factors like the lineage of the father – those five per cent will develop the condition irrespective of anything else. Now, obviously it’s possible that your genes were a contributing factor, but it’s equally possible that Lois would have gotten sick anyway. She even mentioned to me that her mother also developed the condition when she was carrying her sister, so it looks like there was a predisposition towards preeclampsia in the family.”
Dr Fielding drew a breath and looked Clark in the eye. “The bottom line is this, Mr Kent – you can’t blame yourself for your fiancee’s death.”
He dropped his eyes from her perceptive gaze. So the real reason for his enquiries was finally out in the open. He’d hoped to avoid this, had meant to be more subtle in his questioning, but his emotions had let him down. He swallowed hard, determined not to embarrass himself any more by breaking down again. Instead, he made himself sift through the information she’d just given him. It seemed to make sense, but there was still a nagging doubt in his mind. “But I could have been a factor?” he said, finally.
“There’s a million things which could have been a factor, Mr Kent. Don’t beat yourself up over a maybe.” She laid her hand on his arm again. “Look, you’re obviously very upset about all this – understandably so. If you like, I can arrange for you to talk to someone – nothing dramatic, just a person who’s a good listener and who can help you deal with your loss. What do you think?”
He shook his head. “Thanks, but no. I...I think I’ve pretty much gotten over...well, as much as I ever will, I guess. It was just coming here today and talking to you – it brought everything back. I...I’ll be fine.”
“Well, if you change your mind, just call my secretary and she’ll give you the names of a couple of good people. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No.” He stood up, suddenly anxious to be away from the place. “Thank you, Dr Fielding. You’ve been very kind,” he said, holding out his hand to her.
She clasped it firmly. “My pleasure, Mr Kent. I hope things turn out okay for you.”
“Thank you. And thank you for taking care of Lois.”
*****************
CK stood at the door to his new apartment, giving it one last look. He’d spent the rest of the day after coming back from the hospital unpacking crates and generally making the place look as welcoming and as homey as he could. There was fresh paint on the walls, Jon’s room was ready, complete with crib and changing table, and he’d cleaned all the carpets and every single surface to near-clinical standards of cleanliness. He still didn’t have much furniture, so the main room looked pretty empty, but at least it looked fresh.
He’d even found time to make enquiries at the Planet about a job. The new editor hadn’t been able to make him any promises, but he’d mentioned a possible position on the sports desk. From the sound of it, it was a pretty junior position, but since Clark didn’t know much about sports reporting, that was probably a good thing. Obviously, he’d have preferred a job on the city desk, but any job was better than no job at all. Also, once he’d got a foot inside the door, he’d stand a better chance of transferring back to his old beat.
So it was time to return to Lois and Clark’s universe and tell them what he’d learned at the hospital. He looked down at the small device in his hand. This was his least favourite part – universe-hopping, he’d discovered, made him feel queasy. He sighed and pressed the relevant buttons.
************
