LAST TIME:
“You should go home and get some rest tonight. I’m awake now, and I feel bad I’ve kept you up all this time. Besides, I won’t be alone when Clark gets here.”
Ellen nodded. “I guess you’re right. I’ll stay with you until he shows up.”
* * * * * READ ON...
It didn’t prove to be a long wait for Ellen. A nurse entered the room a half hour later.
“Miss Lane, are you taking visitors? There’s a Clark Kent here to see you. He just dialed up.”
“Yes, thank you. Send him up,” Lois said.
“I’ll get going, sweetheart,” Ellen kissed her daughter on the cheek. “Call me any time if you need anything. I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Bye, Mother. Thanks.” Lois was alone at last. She ran her fingers through her hair, hoping she didn’t look too terrible. Suddenly, her heart ached with a new emotion: she felt ashamed. These visits, these flowers... these apologies. ‘I’m sorry about what happened to you.’ Pity. Her friends pitied her. Lois felt her cheeks redden with sheer humiliation. ‘Maybe if I hide under the sheets, Clark won’t know I’m here.’
Another little voice said, ‘Get a grip, Lois. He’s coming because he’s worried.’
Before she could resolve her inner struggle, there was a familiar figure standing in the doorway. He had on blue jeans and a windbreaker. His hair was tousled and his glasses were just a little bit askew; he looked like it had been a long day. His handsome face was reddened a bit by the cold outdoors, and there was a slight hint of nervousness in his expression. Lois felt sheer relief when she saw him. “Clark--” she started, pushing herself up into a sitting position.
Clark stepped into the room slowly. “Lois.” He hadn’t known what to expect. He’d prepared himself for the worst, thinking maybe she’d be badly beaten, or bandaged. Instead, she looked strangely pretty. She appeared tired, but her color was good, there were no visible injuries, and Clark could hear her strong heartbeat.
Still, he was nervous. He had read the books--abused women did not like to be touched; they were not trusting of men. But Clark could see something in her eyes that screamed ‘hold me.’
He moved slowly, giving Lois plenty of time to stop him if she was uncomfortable. He lay a paper-wrapped bouquet down on a nearby table. Lois leaned forward a little with anticipation. And then, without any abandon, Clark did what he’d desperately wanted to do since he heard the news. He gathered Lois in his arms, wrapping her in an embrace that communicated his friendship, support, and love to her without speaking a single word. He simply held her firmly, pressing his cheek to hers. He felt her lean into him, felt her hands grip his back as though she’d never let go. Clark took several deep breaths, enjoying the clean smell of her hair, and the way her body felt close to his. And then, the unthinkable--
Clark felt Lois’ silent tears roll down her cheek, hot and wet against his. This only made him hold her closer. He raised a hand to cup the back of her head, stroking her hair with gentle fingertips. And now she was crying audibly; a tiny whimper had escalated into a full-grown sob. Clark’s heart was breaking with her every wail. For the first time since he heard the news, the guilt that had consumed him did not seem as important as what was happening now.
He did not say “Shh,” or “Don’t cry,” or “It’s okay.” They were meaningless sentiments, and right now it was apparent that Lois needed this kind of release more than anything. He felt her nestle her face into his shoulder. Clark rubbed her back with calm, soothing strokes, and felt her relax a little in his arms.
Lois started to regain her composure, enough to utter two words. Two words that meant the world to him. Two words that made him feel both elated and guilty all over again: “You came.” Quiet tears flowed again, her only sound soft hiccups muffled against his shoulder.
“Of course I came, Lois,” Clark replied, his voice soft and pained. He released her enough to pull back and look at her. Her eyes were red from crying, her cheeks damp with tears. Her lips trembled as she fought the instinct to cry again. There was a dull ache forming deep within Clark’s chest. Here was Lois Lane, the strongest, bravest, smartest woman he knew, at her weakest moment. He wished, with every fiber of his being, that he could reverse the clock. He could have invited his partner to Smallville for Thanksgiving. He could have stayed in Metropolis and worked with her; she wouldn’t have been alone that night. He could have zeroed in on her cry for help with his super hearing--
His guilty thoughts were interrupted. “You didn’t have to come, Clark. I’m sorry.” Lois wiped the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand. Clark offered her a tissue from the bedside table. His hand lingered on hers; her skin was soft and warm.
“Don’t apologize,” Clark responded firmly. “I wanted to be here. For you.” His fingers instinctively interlaced with hers. Naturally, gently, he inclined his head and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I care about you. You know that?”
Lois nodded. “It means so much to me that you came. I can’t explain it. I... woke up today and all I wanted to do was see you. You make me feel...” She very nearly said ‘loved,’ but was unable to finish her sentence. Instead her emotions got the best of her again and she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle another sob.
Clark immediately pulled her back into to his embrace. "Shh... I'm here. I'll always be here for you," he whispered, but nearly choked on the guilt threatening to close up his throat.
She leaned back again when she'd calmed. "Thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Clark smiled tenderly, but another pang of guilt made him change the subject. “I... brought you some flowers. There’s eleven of them here. Now you have a whole dozen.” He laid the bouquet in her hands, eleven more red roses peeking up at her from beneath pink wrapping paper.
His sweet sentiment made her smile. “Thank you, Clark. You shouldn’t have--”
“But I wanted to,” Clark’s gentle expression took on a more serious look. “I feel like--for the first time, I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t want to say the wrong thing. I don’t want to hurt you any more than you’ve already--Look at me, I’m already making things worse,” he stammered, embarrassed.
“It’s okay, Clark. Say what you want to say,” she urged, giving his hand a little squeeze.
Clark took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as best he could. “I came because I care about you. I don’t even know exactly what happened, but I *do* know what *almost* happened. And when I heard, I can’t explain it--it was as if I was... dying. I had to see you. I know I can’t change what happened, but I wish to God I could! I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m here for you. I don’t know what I could possibly do to help you, but I’m here, and I’m... yours. If there’s anything that you need or want, I’m your man.”
Lois threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Clark. That means so much,” she whispered into his ear. When they finally broke the embrace, Lois managed a smile.
“How are you feeling?” Clark inquired.
Lois leaned back against the pillows. “Groggy. I’ve had periods of time where things are really starting to make sense, then everything just sort of fades out. I’m feeling a little dizzy right now, and my stomach feels awful. Things are going in and out of focus. It’s something that happens with a GHB overdose, so they tell me. It’s getting better, though.”
“Good,” Clark replied. “You look tired.” He took the flowers off the bed and unwrapped them, adding them to the first rose he’d sent.
“I *feel* tired. I don’t understand how that’s possible after sleeping through two entire days.” Lois sighed.
“You should get some rest,” Clark urged. “I’ll stay right here.” Something in his tone convinced Lois not to argue with him.
Clark pulled up a chair beside Lois’ bed. Before sitting down, he tucked her in gently. Lightly, he brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face with his fingertips. Clark stopped and admired his friend for a moment; her lovely brown eyes were fixed on his, and her expression was peaceful for the first time since his arrival. Her silky tresses were splayed across the pillow almost artfully. Lois didn’t say a word, but Clark was certain there was an unspoken exchange going on between them. Her eyes communicated warmth and--could it be?--love to him. Acting on instinct alone, Clark leaned over the bed and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. The corners of her mouth turned up ever-so-slightly in a faint smile.
Lois felt a tiny flutter in her chest when Clark hovered over her. She knew she shouldn’t have been surprised when Clark took care of her with such compassion; he was that kind of person. Still, she had never felt more cared for in her life. She found she couldn’t take her eyes off him. The simple touch of his fingers running through her hair sent an excited shiver up her spine. And then, Clark surprised her with a goodnight kiss. The fluttering sensation she’d experienced changed; now she felt a warmth that coursed through her whole body, as though she were standing before a fireplace.
But it wasn’t a fireplace. It was Clark. And Lois could not explain what was happening between them, but she was certainly tiring herself out trying to think about it. She drifted off into a sweet sleep soon afterwards, too drowsy to realize that she and Clark were hand-in-hand.
* * * * *
Clark awoke the next morning right in the armchair where he’d fallen asleep. Warm rays of sun were peeking through the window. He stood up and stretched, and was keenly aware of what a stiff neck he would have had he not have been the Man of Steel. His gaze fell upon the sleeping figure in the hospital bed. Lois looked relaxed and peaceful. He was glad she had gotten a good night’s rest.
He didn’t dare wake his friend. Instead he found a discarded magazine to leaf through. He had almost read Ladies Home Journal cover to cover when a soft voice made him look up.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey you.” Clark smiled.
He studied his partner’s expression. He would almost call it content. But suddenly something changed. She looked pale, and her eyes were pleading. “Oh, no, Clark; I’m gonna be sick--!” She clamped a hand over her mouth urgently.
As soon as the realization hit Clark, he scooped her up and had her in the bathroom in no time, thanks to a little super speed (he knew Lois wouldn’t notice). He knelt with her in front of the toilet, holding back her hair as she lost what little was in her stomach.
Lois rested her forehead on crossed arms, hovering over the porcelain bowl. The violent spasms continued, even when there was nothing left to come up. Clark was still behind her, rubbing her back. “Thanks, Clark,” she sighed, recovering at last. “That was above and beyond the call of duty.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied honestly, supplying her with a glass of water.
When she was sure the nausea had passed, she flushed the toilet and leaned back, resting her head against Clark’s chest. He simply held her. He wished he were holding her under different circumstances. Feeling selfish and guilty, he pushed that thought out of his mind. Carefully, he rested his hand on her belly, rubbing it in a soothing circular motion. “How do you feel now, Lois?”
“Better, I think. But dizzy,” she managed weakly.
“Well, we can’t stay here on the bathroom floor all day,” Clark said gently. “Hang on.” Before Lois knew what was happening, Clark scooped her up into his arms, carrying her out of the bathroom. He moved slowly, so as not to upset her stomach further. “Let’s get you back to bed.” Gently, he set her down on the bed and tucked the blankets over her. Just then, he noticed the teddy bear he’d won for her at the Smallville Corn Festival, hidden beneath the sheet. Grinning, he placed it next to her. Lois blushed.
* * * * *
That was the last bout of nausea that Lois would suffer from. Her health was steadily improving. The dizzy spells became few and far between, the worst effects of the GHB overdose had passed, and Lois’ mind was clearer than ever. She was not sure if that was such a good thing. Now she had to face the very real facts of what had happened, and she found many new anxieties around every corner.
That morning, a doctor came and drew blood. They were going to test her for HIV and AIDS to make sure the criminal hadn’t used a dirty needle. Lois blanched when the doctor informed her that she would be tested every six months for the next ten years. ‘So much for resting easy when the tests come back negative,’ she thought grimly. The disease could incubate undetected for a decade.
Clark was still in the dark about what had happened, and he was afraid to ask Lois before she was ready to talk about it. Like his mom had said, it was best to just be there and be a friend to Lois when she needed him most. What he knew came together in a sort of puzzle with missing pieces; he ran it all through his head. She had been on the subway; she had been drugged, had very nearly been raped. Somehow Lois had been rescued, although she’d lost two days time, unconscious.
Clark had so many questions to ask her. Questions that would undoubtedly upset her a great deal. He decided to wait. There would be a time to ask her.
* * * * *
