from last time...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lois nodded her head absently, taking this all in. She didn’t know why, but she had a lot of trust in this man. Dr. Klein. He was a friend of Henderson’s and seemed to want to help Clark… or Superman as he believed… with every ounce of his being. “Why don’t we try it?” Lois said to the doctors. When they looked at her, she added, “just a little. Don’t give him the complete dosage to all his pain… just a little, to make sure it’s okay.”
“I’ll help you,” Dr. Klein said to the other doctor, walking with him into the hospital room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
HAVE A LITTLE FAITH IN ME
PART 17
***”I’m proud of the man you’ve become.”***
Jor El’s voice…
Clark’s eyes shot open. Lights… there were lights. And looking at them didn’t give him a searing headache.
Once his sight adjusted itself, he looked around, seeing an empty hospital room.
Had it been a dream, seeing Lois? Seeing his Kryptonian father and the picture of his mother? Hearing those voices…
He heard the door open and looked over. Henderson walked in.
“You… you’re awake,” he said, nearly spilling his coffee.
Clark nodded. “What happened? What’s going on?” he asked, finding the strength to ask.
“A lot, to answer both questions quickly. Are you… how do you feel?”
Clark thought about this. He was in pain. His body hurt. Ached, really. But it wasn’t unbearable. “I’m okay. I’ve been better,” he admitted, wryly, which got a little smile out of the inspector. He was beginning to wonder just who Henderson thought he was talking to. Was he Clark or Superman right now?
Henderson sat down in a seat next to him. “Kent, next time the most notorious criminal in the free world invites you into his wine cellar to chat, just say no. Superman or man, it’s not a safe course of action.”
Clark looked at him wide-eyed. “What?” He really wasn’t sure what was going on. Henderson seemed to understand that he was Clark Kent and Superman. Or he thought he was Clark Kent, and was trying to tell him that he needed to be more careful because he wasn’t Superman. He wasn’t sure. But thinking about it quickly was hurting his head. He relaxed back, as he heard the door open again. A man who looked familiar froze in his tracks, seeing him.
“Superman! You’re… you’re awake!” he said. “It’s me, Dr. Klein from STAR Labs,” he explained after seeing Clark’s confused expression.
He immediately remembered the kind man, who he had seen a lot after saving him from the STAR Labs fire awhile back. But if Dr. Klein just called him Superman, and Henderson called him Kent, then Henderson, at least, knew who he was. He looked at him, as that realization dawned on him. He was greeted with a nod and a look that seemed to say he did know and the secret was safe with him. Unless, of course, the whole world already knew. If that were true, he wondered how angry Lois was…
“You look a lot better, Superman. I think the painkillers really worked,” the doctor said.
“I would agree with you, Bernie,” Henderson said.
“I was given pain killers?” Clark asked. He didn’t think painkillers would work on him.
“Long story,” Henderson said, as Dr. Klein looked ready to launch into his hour-long theory.
“Superman, I have been observing you for some time. Since the fire, actually. I have come up with some theories about how you work, and I have the Kryptonite locked up in my lab, and would like to study it so that I might find a vaccination or something for you, so it cannot affect you anymore or at least not as strongly. I will explain all of this in greater detail when you’re better. But, well… I would like to be your doctor, if it would be okay with you.”
Clark looked straight ahead, confused. He was Superman. Superman didn’t need a doctor. Did he?
“Superman,” Henderson said, which caused him to look at him. “Even you need a doctor,” he said, as if reading his mind. “And this guy is better than the rest, a huge fan, and he seems to understand you better than any other doctor could ever hope to. Plus, he has no life.”
Dr. Klein looked at Henderson, as if offended, but then made a face that agreed, actually, with what Henderson said. “How about we talk about this all when you’re better? Perfect. I’m going to go tell the other doctor here that you’re awake,” Bernie said, leaving the hospital room excitedly before anyone could say anything else.
“He suggested the painkillers,” Henderson said, which prompted Clark to look at him. Study him almost. “And they seemed to work.”
“I vaguely remember waking up before, and being in a lot more pain than now, to put it mildly. I guess they worked,” he said, still trying to wrap his mind around this. Did he, when stripped of his powers, function exactly like a human? He knew he looked human and pretty much WAS human except for his powers… but the simple little fact that painkillers had some kind of effect on HIM made him… well… happy. He felt normal, in a way. Like he belonged. Like he wasn’t SUCH an alien. He wanted his powers back. But it was good to know that he was, aside from them, really a man. A human man. Well, close to one, anyway. He looked back at Henderson and suddenly felt exposed… in many ways. Here he was, the Man of Steel, and he was bedridden and on painkillers. But aside from that, Henderson knew… he knew somehow that…
“I know… and I know you’re wondering how I know and if anyone else knows. Let’s just say that your secret is still pretty safe. I figured it out. You can trust me with it. I wouldn’t say anything to anyone.”
“I believe you,” Clark said after a few moments. He looked into his friend’s eyes. “I believe you,” he repeated, meaning it even more. Letting Henderson see that he meant it. “Where’s Lois? And my parents…”
“Visiting hours are over. It’s been hard pulling Lois out of here when the days end,” Henderson explained.
“How many days has… I mean how long have I… uh, what happened? I guess that’s a good place to start.”
“Do you remember being locked in a cage?”
Clark flashed back to his green prison. “Yes,” he said with a shaky breath.
“Well, you practically died in there. Hell, we all thought you WERE dead. Lois wouldn’t let us give in, though. She was determined… she saved you…”
“I buy that,” Clark said, thinking about his impetuous, feisty, determined and beautiful partner and best friend. “But Lois…”
“… was marrying the man who killed you? Or tried to kill you? Yeah. I should let Lois fill you in on that… but let’s just say, that didn’t end up happening.”
Clark let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I can remember voices… in my head… I’m not sure if some of it was real, if I’m remembering people that really talked to me, or if I was dreaming. But I do recall hearing someone talking to me about Lois not going through with the wedding. And… and some other stuff. It may have been a dream…”
Henderson smiled. “Doesn’t sound like it. But again, I should let her explain.”
Clark shook his head, staring sort of absently at Henderson. “Before the cage I remember anger… Lois. She was angry. At me. So angry. I remember not understanding and trying to make it right. But I had pushed her away. For so long. I was trying to pull her close but push her away at the same time. I know now that I can’t do that anymore. I need to tell her. Everything. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“I think she understands things more clearly now than she did then.”
“Well, if she doesn’t, I’ll try my hardest to make her understand! I mean after this…”
“I know what you mean. You came close… VERY close… to not making it. To not getting a second chance to make things right. Clark, you know me. I’m not mushy or sentimental. But, I would really appreciate it if in the future you didn’t put yourself in completely dangerous situations on purpose. A lot of people would miss you. Even me.”
“It wasn’t on purpose. How was I supposed to know that he could hurt ME?” Clark started, but trailed off when he noticed Henderson’s expression. “Okay, okay. So I knew there was this substance in the world that could hurt me. And Luthor did seem too confident. And going to see him to talk about Lois and their wedding couldn’t have been wise, as I was personally involved…. You were right… and thank you. For what you said.”
Henderson nodded his head but said nothing.
“Do I have to stay here? I would much rather just lie in bed at home and recover there. I don’t feel like there’s much to be done for me here. I could keep the painkillers at home…”
“But the doctors should keep an eye on you,” Henderson protested.
But Clark was not about to be quieted. He wanted to go home. “Please help me get home.”
Henderson sighed.
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Lois stepped away from the window. Finally. She had been staring out it since they’d returned to Clark’s apartment awhile ago. She had stared, and then stopped to take a shower that lasted all of two minutes… and then she returned to the window. To stare again. She couldn’t tear herself away. Out there… out the window… were the stars and the whole world…
She felt especially lonely upon returning tonight. She had some of the best company in the world by her side, missing him too… but she wanted him. She wanted him home, safe and sound. She loved the people that were with her, supporting her. She appreciated them more than anything. But the simple fact was: they were not him.
Looking at the glowing stars, which seemed to have a light of hope in them, she thought about how much she loved him. Thinking about that big world out there, and how he was the one person who could really see and feel that largeness the most, she thought about how lonely he must have felt for most of his life. She shivered. And finally, she turned. Away from the window…
Martha and Jonathan were watching an old movie on the classic movie station. She used to make fun of Clark when she realized he subscribed to the channels that played movies from what seemed like another dimension. He actually enjoyed those films from the ‘30s and ‘40s and ‘50s. Classic romances and westerns... She never understood it… But watching Jonathan and Martha’s interest in those films, she realized she had seen that look in Clark before as well. That rapt attention and interest. That look in the eyes that longed for the world to be like it was pictured in those films… to be that peaceful. She was anything but those heroines in those movies… but Clark didn’t seem to care. He seemed to love her just as she was.
She looked away from the old movie, not wanting to continue remembering EVERYTHING Clark Kent, when it was hurting at the moment to think about him.
Jack was sitting at Clark’s kitchen table, playing Solitaire. Quiet. Calm. Alone…
No one had talked much since they returned. They’d been talking and remembering all day… they all just seemed to want the same thing now… to do their own thing, but together. To feel that unspoken and unbroken strength of support, but to not dredge up anything painful to think about anymore.
The sound of a hissing whistle broke through the peace, but even that was peaceful. Martha got up and went into the kitchen and poured hot water from the kettle into four mugs she had lain out. Lois had not even seen or heard her doing anything in the kitchen before, she was so caught up in staring out the window. She observed Martha, moving around the kitchen with a confidence she had passed onto her son. Confident in her abilities in there. Confident in the people she was giving her food or drinks to. Clark was so similar to both his parents, she realized. It was amazing that there wasn’t a biological connection. But then, what was so great about biology, she mused, thinking about her own parents and how much she’d always wanted to be different from them. Looking at Clark’s family… Martha making what looked like homemade cocoa in the kitchen, and Jonathan curled up, still staring at that Cary Grant movie… Lois thought about the old adage “blood is thicker than water.” Clark was not biologically or genetically linked to these two people. But they were so much a part of him, and he was so much a part of them as well. Their connection was palpable… and precious. She herself felt a connection to Clark that could not be explained by science. She felt it a little with his parents too… like they were welcoming her into their family. Their family, which was not traced or linked by blood or genes, but by hearts and souls and memories and feelings. Sure, she knew her own family would always be there for her… although she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her mother after she left the church the day before… but the connection here was different. No one could say this wasn’t a family. They captured every meaning of that word when they were together… and even when they weren’t. This was a family.
Lois walked absently toward the kitchen, joining Martha.
“Clark’s favorite,” Martha said, handing Lois a mug. Jack came and took a mug as well, and then plopped himself right back down at the table after muttering a little ‘thanks’.
“I know. He would practically cringe when he would see the cocoa in a box at my place. So I usually came here in the winter to discuss stories so he could make this,” Lois said, taking a sip. “Mmm… it tastes the same as his.”
The taste brought her back into countless evenings spent on his couch, trying to warm up from being outdoors, chasing a story. Like an outsider looking in on those not-so-distant memories, she could see herself sitting on his couch, Indian-style, sipping cocoa and making jokes about his upbringing, all the while secretly loving the taste and the feeling accompanied with drinking the homemade concoction. She could see him handing her the cup and sitting down on the couch by her. He always made sure to sit close enough that they could get involved in their story-related discussions or even just their life-related discussions or banter sessions, but far enough away that it was friendly and would not make her uncomfortable. She could see him in her mind, telling some story and lighting up over it. Smiling, happy… with her.
She inhaled the familiar scent and felt the memories take over her senses. On this cool May night, she could still feel… remember… the warmth of cocoa in the winter fill her soul.
A soft knock on the door broke Lois out of her reverie. She had no idea who could be at the door at this hour. Maybe Perry or Jimmy, she figured, looking for any new information about Clark’s whereabouts or something. Jack jogged up the stairs and answered the door. It was Henderson.
“Henderson,” Lois said. “What are you doing here?”
Henderson looked around, seeming to survey the room. “Is this everyone that’s here?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Lois answered, growing concerned now.
Henderson walked away from the door for a moment and returned a second later with someone on his arm. The moment it registered who was with him, her heart almost stopped.
Clark…
Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn’t speak for a moment. Her mouth hung open.
“Clark!” Martha said, running up the stairs, Jonathan right next to her.
Clark was leaning on both Henderson and Jack.
“Careful. He’s very weak,” Henderson warned. “Let’s get him down.”
Jonathan helped Henderson and Jack get Clark down the stairs.
Clark was wearing business pants that looked a little too small for him, as well as a dress shirt, that was buttoned unevenly. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and he looked a little pale and could barely stand on his own.
“Clark,” Lois whispered, when he was down the stairs, in front of her.
He leaned heavily on the men around him. “Hi,” he said to her, attempting to smile.
Lois just stared at him, her mouth open, and realized she had tears running down her cheek. “Hi,” she said, before she lurched herself at him, arms open. As soon as her arms were wrapped around him, she let the sobs come. She knew the others would hold him up and that he, in turn, would hold her up, like always. She knew she shouldn’t attack him, that he was too weak. But she couldn’t help it. He was alive and he was home and he was once again with her.
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Bernard Klein sat in his office, shaking his head. Henderson had said Superman was adamant about leaving, despite the doctor’s advice. He had said he needed a disguise and that a truly loyal doctor would assist his patient in any way necessary. Especially in such a case...
So he sat there in his boxers and t-shirt, only feeling reassurance that Superman seemed to really, truly trust him. He would allow him to give him check ups, and would take his advice about painkillers and anything else he suggested. He would allow him to study his biology and kryptonite and work together toward a medication specifically for him.
He smiled, suppressing a chill, as the office was cold and he was practically naked. All his life, he wanted to make a difference. Now, it seemed, that dream was coming true in the most unexpected of ways.
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