A Gift For Life
by StopQuitDont & Jenni Debbage
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Note: A warning has been included with this story, but it contains spoilers. I've included the space for those not wishing to be surprised with the content in the warning.
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A Gift For Life is a 'what if' story that takes place during Season 1 of 'Lois and Clark'. Although we use the background of the show, the plot quickly goes in its own direction.
The premise of this story is a serious and somewhat controversial one. Any reader who has issues with the idea of having a child as a donor to cure a loved one should probably not venture further. However, we have tried to portray this question as sensitively as possible and no character in this story treats the subject lightly.
For those of you who decide you would like to read the story, we hope you agree that we've handled the dilemma as responsibly as possible and that you actually enjoy the journey of Lois and Clark as they find their way through to a happy ending.
This monster is a long time in coming for Jenni and I-- probably closer to two years! At times we wondered if we'd finish it. But at last, we've made it this far. Jenni says we should post once or twice a week... let us know what you think. Heck, you might not want to read it at all! We do hope some readers enjoy it though. So, get reading!
The usual disclaimers apply to this story. The main characters do not belong to either of us, but we have borrowed them for a time. We hope you like what we've done with them and we welcome all feedback, though we would ask you to be tactful... neither of us are invulnerable.
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Chapter 1
A Bolt from the Blue
The hum and chatter of the busy newsroom eddied around Clark Kent as he sat alone at his desk. People rushed by seemingly chaotically but always with a particular destination in mind; others talked intently on the phone or typed frantically on their keyboards, stopping only to refer to scrawled notes. And all in the pursuit of the same object -- reporting the latest news.
Clark loved his job on the city beat of Metropolis' top newspaper. He loved the excitement of chasing down a lead, the satisfaction of seeing the finished product with his by-line splayed across the front page of the Daily Planet. But today he felt strangely disconnected and all he wanted to do was go home and rest.
He shook his head, trying to rid it of the cobwebs that seemed to be forming. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. Usually he didn't feel tired. Yet for the last few days he'd been feeling increasingly exhausted. He'd even slept the previous night all the way through, completely shirking his patrols, which were related to his other job as the city's resident superhero.
He took a deep breath and stood up to go get some coffee. Maybe the caffeine would help. Clark crossed the floor slowly, stopping at the railing by the stairs. He was seeing spots dancing before his eyes and was losing his breath. He clutched the desk closest to him for support.
"Hey, CK, you okay?" Jimmy had noticed his friend's battle to remain upright.
"Yeah. I just need to catch my breath, Jimbo." Even as Clark said this, he noticed a small bruise on the back of *his* hand. He didn't bruise! What was going on here? His mind was whirling and he barely heard Jimmy's next words.
"All right. Just holler if you need anything."
"I will." Clark rubbed his eyes under his glasses and took several more breaths. This wasn't right. There was something wrong with him. He had to get to Star Labs... now.
"Jimmy, could you tell Perry I needed to go home? I just can't seem to stand up any longer."
"Sure, CK. Guess you got that virus going around."
"Seems like it." For some reason he couldn't quite shake the feeling that this was more than a virus. Besides, Superman didn't get viruses.
"Take care and just get some rest." Jimmy advised helpfully but with that certain degree of irreverence that the very young have for illness. Throwing Clark a quick grin, he hurried off in the direction of the Chief's office, his mind already concentrating on the next inconsequential task his boss had in store for him. Jimmy knew he was at the very bottom of the pecking order in the bullpen, but he didn't mind too much. He was part of the team.
"I will, Jimmy," Clark replied to his friend's retreating back, struggling to straighten up and head for the stairwell. It was an effort to get changed into the tight blue suit, the spandex wouldn't give an inch, but he finally managed and flew excruciatingly slowly to the lab across town.
****
Bernard Klein was what some people would dub a mad scientist. While his skills inside the lab were extraordinary, his social and people skills were seriously lacking. However, he was the only scientist Clark had ever entrusted to care for Superman, and despite Klein's vague exterior, he seemed to treat the hero as a friend.
Dr. Klein reread his notes one more time, coming back to stand over Superman, who was lying on the table in one of the Labs' only exam rooms. The doctor had run countless tests and had kept the superhero in the lab all afternoon and most of the night.
"By the look on your face the news isn't good," Clark said wearily. He had long passed the point of panic and had moved on to resigned calm. By the time he reached Star Labs, several bruises had appeared on his body and he was more tired than he had been initially. In fact, he was more tired than he'd ever been in his life.
Bernard took a deep breath and looked down at the young man. "I don't know quite what to say here."
"Just tell me... please!"
"Superman, you have a condition much like Earth's version of leukemia." The doctor's bald patch caught the sheen of the overhead lighting as he bowed his head, no longer able to look the superhero in the eye.
"What?" Clark sat up like a jack-in-the-box, his shocked mind racing to decipher what he'd just heard. "I don't understand... are you sure?"
"Your body is exhibiting all the signs."
"I have... cancer?" The superhero's voice almost cracked on the word.
"Yes."
"H... How did this happen?"
"I'd have to run more tests to be certain, but I think it may have had something to do with your battle with the Nightfall asteroid last week."
"How do you mean?"
The doctor moved to perch on a stool, apparently feeling that need to sit as well. Klein squared his shoulders and went on. "I can't be definite until the test results come back, but I believe you may have ingested some tiny fragments of the asteroid. By the way it's now affecting you, I'd say the rock may have been from your home planet."
"You think Nightfall was a piece of Krypton?" Superman's eyebrows climbed towards his hairline in a gesture reminiscent of Clark, but somehow his need to keep his two identities apart had suddenly taken a backseat. Besides, the doctor very seldom came in contact with Clark.
"I think so. And when you hit it, that's what caused you to be shot back to Earth."
"But it didn't make me sick the way Kryptonite usually does."
Dr. Klein scratched his head. "That could have been because there were only traces of the substance in it."
"Enough to do some damage," Clark said absently.
"I'm going to keep looking into this. I'll know more in a day or two. In the meantime, you go home and rest. Take a day off, you deserve it."
"Yeah." Clark eased his feet to the floor. "Thank you."
"Superman, I'll do everything I can."
"I know you will."
Clark shook the doctor's hand and made his way out of the building and home to the comfort of his bed. He should feel something... but he didn't. Maybe he was in shock. Yes, that must be it! His brain was numb. Without even bothering to undress he fell onto the mattress and was soon sound asleep.
****
When Dr Klein was alone, he stared down at the file in his hand in disbelief. He'd just told The Man of Steel that he was seriously ill and the magnitude of the situation was threatening to ovewhelm him.
Clinical work was certainly not his speciality; he'd long ago realized that dealing with people was something he wasn't good at. But he'd do anything at all for Superman.
"Cancer," Bernie mumbled absently as he rose from his stool. "Wow."
He tucked the file he held under his arm and slowly made his way out of the office to go home. There was nothing more he could do tonight. Tomorrow he'd be here early, running every possible test he could. If there was a way to help his newest patient, he was determined to find it.
With a final sigh, the doctor Bernard Klein killed the lights in his lab *and locked up*. Sometimes he really didn't like being a doctor.
****
Clark finally emerged from his sleep around ten the next morning when the insistent ringing of the phone pulled him from his haze.
"'Lo?"
"Clark? Where are you?" the antsy voice of his partner demanded.
"Not today, Lois. I don't feel like it." Clark was not up to one of Lois Lane's little rants.
"You sound awful."
"I feel awful. Just cover for me, 'kay?"
"I'm coming over." Lois' voice now held a note of concern.
"No, it's okay."
"Clark, you don't even sound like you're able to get out of bed."
"Well…"
"I'll bring aspirin and chicken soup. It always makes me feel better."
"Lois…" His protests were in vain. She was speaking again.
"See ya' in a few."
Anything else he was going to say was cut off by the dial tone because she'd already hung the phone up. He groaned and put the receiver back. Now he'd have to get up and change out of his Suit, so Lois wouldn't find him like this. There was no way he could handle a battle with Mad Dog this morning.
****
Lois used the spare key under a flowerpot to open Clark's door. The apartment was dark and silent and her first instinct to call for her partner died on her lips. Instead, she crept quietly down the few stairs and into the bedroom, where she found the patient. He was sleeping on his stomach, his arms clutching his pillow. It occurred to her that he looked a little different, but she didn't contemplate it too long. Turning purposely on her heel, she took the hot soup into the kitchen to prepare him a bowl.
"Lois?" Clark called out as he wiped his eyes and slowly rolled onto his back to sit up, the sound of someone digging through his kitchen cabinets having awakened him.
"Yeah. Getting you some soup."
"Okay." Clark was too tired to worry about how she'd gotten in. He reached for his glasses and settled against his pillows. A few moments later, Lois came in with a tray.
Lois gasped slightly when she saw him. He was pale and had a few bruises on his arms and hands. Quickly she composed herself. "Clark, what happened? You look like you lost a battle with a wrestler."
He looked down at his arms, his mind racing for an acceptable explanation. "Oh, ah, I fell yesterday. It's okay. It doesn't hurt."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
She doubted that was so and was about to air her opinion, but even she could tell he wasn't in the mood for a debate. "Here." She set the tray somewhat precariously on the bed and handed him two aspirin and a glass of water. "This will help."
Clark thought to protest, but decided it was easier just to agree with her. He took the tablets and drank the water, actually feeling a little better after quenching his thirst.
"Thank you," he told her as she opened his napkin and handed him a spoon.
"Don't mention it. Partners are supposed to help each other out," she reminded him in a friendly manner as she took the empty glass and placed her hand against his forehead. "No fever."
"I just feel really tired."
"Well, eat. It'll help." She moved the tray over to his lap.
Clark offered her a faint smile. "Okay." He slowly began to eat the soup, which, thankfully, was from the deli down the street -- he was sure he'd get even sicker had Lois cooked it.
Meanwhile, Lois turned round and started picking up the clothes that lay about his room. She couldn't ever remember a time Clark's place had been this messy. He must really feel awful, she thought as she straightened out the clutter.
"Lois, you don't have to do that."
"I know." She smiled and continued her task. A few minutes later she was done with her chores and Clark was finished with his food. She sat down to look at him. "Better?"
"Yeah. I believe I do feel better."
"Good. There's more in the fridge and the deli is open till midnight." She got up. "I hate to leave, but Perry needs me to cover some press conference downtown."
"Sure. Thanks again."
"No problem. Call if you need anything."
"I will."
"Think you'll make it back to the office tomorrow?"
"I hope so."
She nodded her head and smiled again. "I'll call you later."
"Okay."
Lois took his tray to return it to the kitchen on her way out.
"Put the key back," Clark yelled as she went out.
"I did," she returned just before the door closed.
Clark smiled into the emptiness of his room. He was feeling pleasantly stunned to be the recipient of Lois' concern. It wasn't often that Mad Dog softened enough to show her compassionate side.
"I must be a mess, if Lois noticed," Clark mumbled to himself.
She was easily one of the most complicated people he had ever met. Although he considered her a good friend, he wasn't sure if she was even aware that she could be someone's friend. His partner seldom focused on anything other than the next big story, so to have her rush over here with aspirin and soup meant a lot to him.
Lately it seemed as if his relationship with his partner had started to shift toward something more... more.
That thought brought a frown to Clark's face. If he was seriously ill, he might never get to find out just how close he and Lois could have become. He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. He didn't want to think of anything right now, not until he knew for certain what he was facing.
****
Clark was feeling a lot better the next day so he ventured in to work and made it through his day with relative ease. The following day was even better. His energy had returned and the unsightly bruises had faded. In fact, after a few more days of feeling pretty much back to normal, he was beginning to think that Dr Klein's diagnosis might have been wrong.
He was poring through some files when his phone rang. He lifted the receiver as he searched for a paper he needed. "Clark Kent?"
"Mr. Kent, this is Bernard Klein from Star Labs." Clark froze. There was only one reason why the doctor would be calling. "Mr. Kent, I need you to see if you can contact Superman for me."
"Ah, sure. Should I tell him to be in a hurry?"
"Not necessarily, but I do have some news for him that he was waiting for."
"Okay. I'll tell him as soon as I see him."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Clark hung up the phone, trying to resist the urge to speed out the building. He couldn't afford for the doctor to suspect anything. Of course, if things became desperate, he may have to tell the man his secret. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.
He breathed a sigh of relief when his hearing picked up a call for Superman. Within seconds he could hear sirens wailing and knew the fire services would probably welcome a little super-powered help. At least there would be something to distract him for a while.
****
It was almost three hours later before Superman made it to Star Labs. Feeling slightly apprehensive, he entered the lab where the receptionist had told him Dr. Klein was working.
The doctor looked up from behind his desk as the superhero walked in. "Superman, glad to see you got my message."
"Yes. Do you have some news?" Clark asked abruptly, deciding to get right to the point.
"Yes, I do, but why don't you sit down." Klein jumped up and started pacing uncertainly in front of Clark. He knew the news he was about to confirm would be hard to take... even for a super man.
Oh-oh, that didn't sound so good, and Clark didn't like the haunted look on the man's face as he eased to the seat indicated and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Superman," Dr Klein started bravely, holding his patient's stare. "I have run tests for two days straight. I wish I were wrong, but all data points to, for lack of another word, cancer."
Cancer! He had cancer. Superman had cancer.
Clark's whole body tensed and he swallowed hard. He had the frightening impression that his throat was in danger of closing up. For days now he'd refused to believe the possibility, but he could no longer deny the fact that he was very sick. It took him a few minutes before he found the power of speech again.
"It's from kryptonite?"
"Yes, that would be my assessment. Your tissue samples show minute particles of kryptonite."
There was another silence as Clark allowed the information to sink in. It seemed his home planet had never done him any favours. Eventually, he sighed. "Where do we go from here?"
"If you were human, radiation would be my first choice. However, I've decided against that for the moment."
"Okay," Clark nodded grimly. He really knew nothing about this disease or its treatment. What he needed to do was some research, but meanwhile Dr Klein could provide some information. "So why not now?"
"Well, I have come up with some radioactive medication which I'd like to try first. It's similar to iodine treatments. You'll ingest a pill and we pray it'll cleanse your system."
"And if it doesn't?"
Bernie took a deep breath. "Then we'll just have to find an alternate solution. Rest assured, a lot of people survive leukemia."
"I'm not most people."
"I know. And your ability to heal should help us here. I'll work on this non-stop."
"Okay. So, tell me what to expect." On the surface, Superman was regaining some composure, but inside he felt disorientated, as if this was part of a nightmare.
"Well, you can expect to be tired a lot more than usual and the bruising... but that will pass eventually. When you take the pills, you'll become sick and throw up. It's normal, even for you."
"I won't… lose my hair or anything, will I?" How could he continue to be Superman if Clark and he went bald at the same time? Of course, Superman could always wear a wig, but how would he keep it on when he was flying? Would his aura protect it... would he even have an aura? The hysterical thoughts chased around Clark's brain, but he reined them in. He really had to listen....
"No. The radiation in the pills is minimal. It won't harm anything but what it's designed to target. You take the pills for three days, then come back in ten so we can do a scan to see how effective the treatment was."
"Okay. And if it's not effective?"
"Let's just take one step at the time."
"I can do that." And he could. His regenerative powers had never failed him before. Why should it be different this time?
"Good." The doctor got up and retrieved the pills for Clark. "I wish I'd been wrong."
"I know. But no one could have known this would happen." The superhero fought his devastation as he looked down at the small metal container in his hand..... Didn't pills usually come in a bottle? But then these were irradiated. Just holding the medication brought the reality of the diagnosis crashing down on him.
"Take care of yourself."
"I will." Clark rose to his feet. "I'll see you in ten days."
"No. Wait ten after the three. So I'll see you in thirteen days. And, Superman, if you have any friends, now might be a good time to get them onboard. You shouldn't have to face this alone. Oh, and speaking of friends, before you leave there is one more thing...."
"Yes?" Superman turned back to face the doctor and was surprised to see the older man's face turning a distinct shade of red.
"Hmm, these pills, Superman, they're radioactive, you know. Well, that means that you become radioactive to a certain extent, though your super-powered body should shield the people you come in contact with. Still there is a knock on effect... anything that leaves your body...your breath for example. Try not to breathe too closely on anyone...."
"Geesh, that should make rescues more difficult." Clark shoulder's slumped and he sounded more than a little dejected. He supposed he could cut down on his super duties over the next few days, and he could always hold his breath in extreme circumstances, but his ordinary life as Clark might prove harder to handle.
"Just don't get too close to anyone. No kissing any ladies, for example... or even men!" Bernard flushed furiously. " 'Course, you might not do that sort of thing at all." He coughed behind his hand while the natty bow-tie he wore bobbed up and down in time with his Adam's apple.
There was another strained silence before Clark managed to ask with a touch of impatience. "Yes? Anything else I should know?" Right now all he wanted was to get home so he could be alone with his thoughts.
Bernie was tongue-tied This situation was exactly the reason he found consultations so difficult. He just wasn't comfortable explaining personal details... equations and technical data were so much easier, but Superman was still waiting... "And there are other things... your waste products to be exact." The last statement came out in a rush, causing him to blush almost as badly as had the kissing comment.
Had he really said those things to Superman?
"Which means you have to be careful.... I mean, I don't know your living arrangements or anything. You probably live alone in a mountain cave or an ice palace in the Arctic, so it shouldn't be a problem, but you have to be careful with... things. But, as I said, the radioactivity in the medication is minimal, and your fast metabolism will process it quicker than with other patients, so it will only be for two or three days."
The statement was garbled, but Clark got the meaning, maybe more from the accompanying embarrassment than from what was actually said. But why should Bernard think he didn't like kissing, or that he lived in such out-of-the-way places? Then again, he'd never sought to alter the strange conceptions that people had about the Man of Steel. In fact, the more bizarre the better... and wasn't this situation the most bizarre yet? He'd just been told he had leukemia!
"Don't worry, Dr Klein, I'll take care I don't contaminate anyone," Clark assured sadly.
"Oh, I'm not worried, I knew you'd understand." Klein looked relieved his patient had caught his drift so quickly. "And good luck with the medication, Superman."
Clark nodded with a half smile and exited the room.
****
Clark sat at his table as he swallowed the first pill. Now he was alone, he felt strangely detached. Who would have thought? Superman had cancer and might be dying. This was the first time he'd allowed himself to think of that possibility. He'd never been sick and had never worried about anything happening to him before. This just proved even a super man was vulnerable.
He'd thought about calling his parents, but what would he tell them? The truth, his conscience reminded him, but he hated to worry them unduly. Dr. Klein seemed to think these pills would take care of the situation. Why not tell them after?
And what if it didn't? His parents would be upset that he'd kept such a thing from them. That would cause them even more pain. Besides, a hug from his mother would feel really good right about now. He stood up and spun into his suit. If he was going to tell them, he needed to do it in person.
****
"He thinks this will work?"
Clark looked up at the troubled eyes of his mother. "He does." He reached out and took her hand. "I know you're worried."
"Of course we are, Clark. Our son just told us he has cancer."
"I know, Mom." He lifted her hand to his cheek, forcing himself to remain calm and seeking comfort from her simple touch, but taking special care not to breathe on her skin. "It'll be okay. You'll see."
"I hope so."
"Clark, you have to tell us everything right away from now on. You may need us to come to Metropolis to help you," Jonathan insisted, his mind still trying to process the shocking news.
"I know. I'm sorry. I should have told you guys two days ago."
"It's okay." His mom was fighting back tears as she smiled and patted his hand.
"Mom, please don't do that. If I stop and think about this not working, it'll take over and I won't be able to get anything done."
"Okay." She wiped at her tears and got up from the table. "How about some scones?"
"Absolutely!" Clark smiled as she got the delicious treats. He knew she'd break down later in the comfort of his dad's arms. She was allowed that. He also knew she'd be his rock if she had to be.
He spent the next two hours discussing some of the symptoms of his disease. His parents pointed out that he shouldn't attempt rescues when he was feeling overly tired or sick because he could end up causing more harm than good. Martha was the one to tell him he would have to take the time to cover any bruises so no one would notice he and Superman were suffering the same afflictions. Clark assured his parents he'd be careful and take care of himself.
With a few final promises and some comforting hugs, Clark left for Metropolis in much better spirits than he'd been in earlier. His parents were truly his foundation.
****
Dr. Klein had been right. The pills made Clark sick. He spent most of the second day in the men's room at the Planet throwing up, then carefully incinerating the proceeds. Even if he wasn't fit enough to be a superhero at present, at least his heat vision was useful. It was a strange feeling to be sick. He wondered how normal people did this. Of course, he could have stayed home, but Clark was determined not to give into the monster that was making his life miserable.
By the third day his energy had returned with a vengeance. He hadn't felt this good in a long time. He was positive the medicine had done its job.
Now, however, he was sitting on his sofa with his head in his hands. Was it only this morning when he'd visited Star Labs again, so full of optimism? Well, his hopes had very soon been dashed. The medicine hadn't done its job and Clark was just as sick as ever. Dr Klein had told him the radiation had had very little effect, then had given him some more pills that were similar to medication any other leukemia patient would take to stay well. There would be good days and bad days, Klein had said.
The doctor had also run more tests and learned the disease had not been the result of his encounter with the Nightfall asteroid. From the way the disease was progressing, Clark had apparently ingested the kryptonite several months ago. This seemed a fairly impossible theory because he hadn't known of the existence of the substance until recently. Bernie argued that it could have been present in minute forms on objects with which he'd been in contact without his knowing it. It could have even been on something that he'd brought from his home planet when he'd come to Earth.
Clark had thought about that. The only things he had from Krypton were his baby blanket and the 'S' shield that was on one of his suits now. Could it be possible it was on one of those? He'd asked Dr Klein about the probability that the substance would have survived frequent washings, only to be given an answer in the affirmative. He'd known for some time that his mother had removed the 'S' from his ship and put it straight into the envelope where it had remained until she had sewn it onto his first suit with so much pride.
On hearing that, Klein had immediately tested the shield and discovered it was permeated with dust from his planet. Whenever he'd worn the suit, he'd unwittingly come in contact with the deadly stuff and the process had begun. Poor Mom would be devastated when she heard about that. On second thought, Clark might keep that little piece of information to himself. He didn't want her hurting anymore than was really necessary; knowing he could be dying would destroy her enough.
Clark's only comfort was being told the illness was progressing slowly and the scientist's promise that he would continue to search for a cure.
"How long have I got?" he'd asked bleakly.
Bernie assured him many patients lived years after their diagnosis, and, with Superman's powers of recuperation, the doctor felt confident Clark would live five years or more. If he responded to the medication, it could even be longer. Although it didn't relieve his mind much, it was something. Clark left the office with four different bottles of pills which he'd have to swallow every day for the rest of what was left of his life.
And his life would change. Dr. Klein said that as the disease progressed, he would start to lose his powers. For his whole life he'd wanted nothing more than to be a normal man. It was ironic that he had to get sick to be one.
A strangled groan almost forced itself past Clark's lips as he considered the future. His first instinct was to fly to the Arctic and scream his anger and frustration into the icy wastes. But fear transcended those emotions and Clark went where he always would when he was lost and alone.
He pushed his misery away and flew to Kansas.
