From Last Time:
Zara stood beside Clark’s bed. The numerous wounds that covered his body made it impossible to pretend that he was simply sleeping peacefully. “His condition is improving, ma’am,” Tao Scion explained softly. “It has only been a few days, but he is strong.”
“The scars…” Zara murmured as she looked at the healing cuts and dark bruises on his face.
“He will have them for the rest of his life,” Tao Scion replied. “The wounds are too old and while they will fade, many are quite large.”
“The ones on his face, though…” Zara asked insistently. “What of those?”
“They are far more superficial, I suppose I can try to minimize their appearance,” the physician mused. “There are far more important elements to his recovery, though…”
“Kal El has a life on Earth that he will return to. He will take nothing from this place but unpleasant memories and scars. He should not have to wear them for all the world to see, to gawk and stare and wonder at his private hell,” she replied grimly.
Tao Scion merely nodded in understanding.
********
New Stuff:
Through a thick gauzy blanket that shrouded his mind, the first signs of the waking world began to intrude, jabbing at him incessantly. He felt a confused, chaotic mix of pains, sharp, burning, stabbing, dull, aching, throbbing. Every part of his body hurt. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was as dry and scratchy as sandpaper. Clark blinked his eyes open and immediately regretted it. Bright, sterile light came pouring in.
“Good tidings, Kal El,” a warm, familiar voice said.
Clark turned his head, grimacing from the pain the simple movement caused. His head swam. A dark, blurry shape slowly came into focus. It was Tao Scion. Clark tried to form a response but nothing but a dull rasp escaped from his lips.
The physician approached and lifted a glass of water to Clark’s mouth. He gratefully took a sip. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Do not try to move,” Tao Scion said gently. “Your injuries are healing, but I do not want you to dislocate that shoulder again.”
“What happened?” Clark asked. The room thankfully stopped spinning and came into focus. The aches and pains remained, intensifying with every subtle, minor movement of his body. Even breathing was a labor.
“Forty six days after you were captured outside of Terian, Commander Talan and Lieutenant Commander Ching rescued you from an abandoned building in the Belaar where you were being held. That was almost two weeks ago,” Tao Scion explained.
“Two weeks?” Clark asked incredulously.
“Yes, you have been unconscious these last thirteen days. You have had three surgeries.”
“It certainly feels like it,” Clark replied humorlessly.
“Yes, I know you are in pain, we have been steadily increasing the pain medication since you began showing since of regaining consciousness. You should start feeling the effects soon.”
“I hope so. Everything hurts.”
“Well, you suffered a concussion, six broken ribs, two dislocated shoulders, a number of torn tendons and ligaments and a fractured patella. Not to mention the infection and the wounds. You will recover fully, but it will be a long, slow process.”
The chime of the intercom interrupted them. “I contacted the First Minister when you began to show signs of waking. She is here now to see you. I will send her in.” With that, the doctor withdrew. Moments later, Zara entered the room, a tremulous smile on her face.”
“How are you?” she asked anxiously.
“Probably better than expected, given the two months I’ve had,” he replied.
Zara shook her head. “This is all my fault,” she whispered.
“It was my decision to go to Terian. Besides, I’m pretty sure Nor gets more than a share of the blame here,” Clark said humorlessly.
“We should never have asked you to come here; we should never have dragged you into our problem.”
“You needed my help,” he said simply.
“And we had no right to ask for it,” she countered.
“It’s not about whether you had the right. You asked, I came. It was my decision. Mine and Lois’s. I knew it would be dangerous. I knew what could happen.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “For everything you have endured on our behalf. For the pain that coming here has caused you.”
He realized that her contrition was unbearable. The thought seemed to crush him; he hated being ungrateful. But he was just so tired and unprepared to deal with sympathy. A heavy sigh escaped his lips and he suddenly felt like he was being bear hugged by a boa constrictor. He winced in pain.
“I should let you rest,” she said softly.
Clark merely nodded. She slipped out of the room and Clark drifted into a mercifully dream-free, narcotic-induced sleep.
********
The following morning found his mind still fuzzy and his body in a great deal more pain. The painkillers were clearly wearing off, but the aches and stabbing pains that seemed to make up the entirety of his interactions with the real world were not forefront in his mind. He bit his lip and looked down at where the chain around his neck should have been. The wounds Tao Scion had described couldn’t compare to the crushing pain he felt knowing that he’d lost something he’d promised to keep safe.
‘I’ll keep it as safe as my love for you.’
What did that promise mean? Could he convince Lois that she was always in his thoughts, and always in his heart if he couldn’t keep that little ring safe? How was he supposed to tell her? What was he supposed to tell her? He swallowed around the lump in his throat and closed his eyes.
“Are you all right?” Tao Scion’s gentle voice intruded on his gloomy thoughts. He hadn’t even heard the doctor enter. “Are you in pain?”
Clark nodded.
“I know it hurts terribly now, but the pain will lessen,” Tao Scion explained. Clark wished it were true.
He tried not to think of what he’d lost. There was still hope. Hope that he’d go home one day. Hope that he’d see his wife. “You saved my life…again.”
“Well, you have your commanders to thank for that, really. They would not rest until they had brought you home.”
He nodded in understanding, but was certain that Tao Scion had not sensed the subtle irony in his own words. Clark was nowhere near home. In fact, he felt further from it now than he ever had. He wasn’t sure how that was possible. How was it that during his captivity and torture, he could still feel Lois, like she was right beside him, and now, she felt so far away. “I’d like to thank them,” he said softly.
“In due time,” Tao Scion said. “There will be plenty of opportunities for you to have visitors in the coming days. Zara wanted me to alert her when you woke up, shall I send her in?”
Clark wasn’t really in the mood for company, but he nodded anyway. He’d been rude enough yesterday. The least he could do now was be polite. Tao Scion opened the door and Zara entered as the old physician left.
“Are you feeling any better?” she asked.
“Yes,” he lied. “What’s happened? I mean, what’s been happening, all this time that I’ve been…”
“Do not worry about it,” Zara soothed. “We have coped, and there will be plenty of time to worry when you are well again. For now, you should concentrate on getting better. If there is anything you need, or anything I can do for you…”
“Just thank Talan and Ching, and everyone who kept looking for me. And thank you, for not giving up.” The sentiment was real, at least, somewhere deep inside, he knew it should have been. But the words sounded hollow, even to his own ears. He hoped she would assume it was just the medication.
“Of course,” she replied. “I cannot begin to express how glad we are to have you back. We have not always been quick to demonstrate it, but the people of this world have come to love you. We…we appreciate what you have done, what you have sacrificed for us.” She reached out and placed a hand on his. Clark wanted desperately to find some comfort, some reassurance in her words and warm gestures, but he found nothing. What had happened to him? How had he ended up so…empty?
********
“Merry Christmas, Lois,” Jonathan announced cheerfully. He held his namesake in his arms. Jon reached immediately for his mother as soon as she walked through the door. Lois found herself grinning from ear to ear as she reached back to him.
“Merry Christmas,” she replied to her father-in-law. She looked down at her son, cheerfully dressed in his red and green Christmas sweater. “Don’t you look dapper?” she asked him. Jon merely giggled in response.
“So how was everything?” Jonathan asked.
“Great,” she responded. “Ultrawoman was a big hit with the kids. All the toys were delivered.”
“It’s a wonderful thing you did.”
“Clark was the first person who really showed me how special Christmas could be. I’m just glad that I can share that with some of the kids who need it the most.”
Martha appeared from the kitchen. “Are you guys ready to decorate the tree?”
“What do you say, little man? Are you ready to decorate your first Christmas tree?”
Jon grabbed the chain Lois wore around her neck. “Mama!” he exclaimed. Lois smiled as she gently extricated it from her son’s grasp. Jonathan said nothing as she tucked the chain and ring back under her sweater. She’d never mentioned the ring to her in-laws, but she figured they must have seen it on occasion, must have noticed that she did not wear her wedding ring and never had it in her possession. They never broached the subject though, silently acknowledging that the topic was verboten. It wasn’t even something to be tiptoed around; tiptoeing around it meant at least acknowledging it. All three grownups in the house studiously ignored it when they were together. When her son grabbed on to the chain, intrigued by something dangly and shiny, she acted as though the chain held a mere trinket or pendant, and tucked it back away without fanfare.
The family made its way to the living room where the tree Lois and Jonathan had selected stood in stately dignity, waiting to be dressed in all the festive trimmings of the season. The house smelled like warm gingerbread, lush pine, and the hickory smoke of logs burning and crackling on the fire. It smelled like Christmas. Preparing for Jon’s first Christmas – the greeting cards, the present shopping, the ornament making – had taken most of the sting out of another Christmas without Clark. Most, but not all. It was another occasion where his absence was painfully obvious, where he haunted them like a ghost in the room. It was just impossible to divorce this time of year from her thoughts of him. Every great Christmas she’d ever had, she’d had with him.
She recalled that Christmas when he’d lied about his flight to Smallville being canceled so he could spend time with her. The evening had been magical, his presence then had been so comforting and reassuring and so *right.* He’d held her hand as they watched Christmas carolers gather and sing beneath her window.
This was his holiday really; she had just been blessed to be able to share it with him for a while. Now, the holidays and the passing seasons were just mile markers - dates crossed off in a cosmic countdown, but there was no way of knowing where the end was. She couldn’t count the days and the months until his return. She simply sat in the dark and waited for him to come back.
********
Ching leaned heavily on his cane as he stood to find out who was knocking on his door at this late hour. He limped across the room and pulled the door open to find Zara standing on the other side. He smiled a faint half smile as he stepped aside to allow her to enter and closed the door behind her. “How is he?” he asked.
“As well as can be expected,” she replied quietly.
“He is strong,” Ching reminded her. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Stronger than anyone I have ever known.”
Zara put her hand on Ching’s and squeezed it gently. “This should never have happened,” she murmured.
Ching shook his head. “No one could have known what would happen and you did everything you could to bring him back as quickly as possible.”
“That is not what I mean. We had no right to bring him here. To tear him away from a good life and bring him to this place. To put him in danger to solve our problems.”
“It was unfair…”
“It was more than unfair,” Zara countered. She interlaced her fingers with her lover’s. “What we have, he had and we took him away from it. We took him away from everything he has ever known and loved. What he’s been through…what he’s had to endure…was it worth it?”
Ching knew that she wanted him to assuage her worries, to tell her that everything would be fine. But he had no guarantees he could give her. “This is not a great world; it is rarely ever a good one. But we are both sworn to protect it. I know that we are blessed beyond understanding to have the help of a man like Clark. The only thing we can do now is ensure that everything he has sacrificed and all of the pain he has endured was not in vain. We must turn this into a world worth saving.”
He looked into the eyes of his beloved and could see her struggling, at war with herself. She needed to believe the same things he did. She needed to believe that they could turn this into a world worth saving, but she had seen enough to cause her to wonder if such a thing were possible. Behind her calm green eyes, there were shadows and darkness. Fears and regrets. But there was also courage. Courage she needed to seize tightly and never let go.
Ching reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. He let his hand linger just a little longer than necessary. He hoped that he would have the strength to help her, to be as resolute and steadfast an ally as she had been in his darkest hours. It was not merely his recent brush with the wrong side of the law; Zara had been the most stable force in his life for almost as long as he could remember.
He was a boy, barely twelve years old, when his parents died. They were both engineers, killed in a mine collapse. He’d raced from his school to the accident site, too little to do anything to help, but old enough to know that something terrible had happened. The rescue workers had restrained him. He’d fought ineffectually against full grown men. His small fists falling harmlessly against them.
Ching remembered his eyes overflowing with tears, his breath escaping him in sobs. The air had reeked of fire and sulfur, the chaotic sounds of the rescue crew, yelling and cursing and cajoling their equipment as they struggled in vain to rescue people who couldn’t be rescued, surrounded him. The sharp crack of explosives thundered all around him. He thought his heart had blown up in his chest. The explosion had stunned not only Ching, but also the rather burly fellow who’d been restraining him. He’d momentarily loosened his grip and Ching had used the opportunity to break free. Ching started to run headlong, as fast as his wobbly legs would carry him, toward the mine.
He’d run directly into a solid wall wearing a heavy black cloak. A large arm came around him and Ching stopped fighting. He’d buried his head against the man and wept. He remembered being held by the man’s strong arms and carried away by them. He’d woken up in a strange bed in a dark, unfamiliar room. He’d sat upright slowly, the memory of the night before rushing back to him. He’d promptly thrown up.
That was how he spent his first night in the Ra household.
The following morning he’d met Mieren, Tek Ra’s wife. She was kind and solicitous and she made him miss his own mother even more. And he’d met Zara; the little girl with wide, luminous green eyes. She watched him silently, never saying a word. For over a week, they’d given him a wide berth, but at the same time, they’d welcomed him into their lives, letting him know that he would always have a home in the House of Ra.
He’d been wary of Zara, having learned early on who she was and what waited in store for her. He did not understand how this small girl of only eight years would become their people’s leader, how she would command armies and sit at the head of the High Council.
She was just a little girl.
For weeks, his interactions with her had been sparse and simple. She was shy and always quiet in his presence. At the time, he too, hadn’t been much for talking. He spent most of his time staring out the window at a desolate landscape that mirrored the way he felt. He was not certain when it started, but one evening, she sat down next to him. Neither said a word. The following evening, she was there again. They sat side by side, night after night, neither saying anything. He was not certain how she knew exactly what he needed, but she did. A child of tender years, she could see his pain, even if she could not completely understand it.
Eventually, as time went on, he started to talk to her and found her to be a good listener, and soon, a fast friend. She was nearly four years his junior and struck by the tiniest amount of the hero worship most children feel toward their older friends. As they grew older, he came to relish his role as protector to the future First Minister.
He was amazed by how perceptive she was, how she understood things, how she understood him, better than anyone. For five years, Ching was a fixture in the Ra household. Tek Ra had made it abundantly clear at the beginning of his stay that it would be his home for as long as he liked. Not long after the birth of the twins, he left to begin his military training. He had continued his studies, mastering the arts of politics and law, even as he learned more martial pursuits. He traveled the planet and the star system with his unit, earned his commission, and received his first command.
As a newly minted ensign, he returned to the main colony. It was in the chambers of the High Council that he saw Zara for the first time in four years. He barely recognized the little girl he knew in the woman who stood before him. She was charismatic and captivating and the most breathtakingly beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He’d had so many things he wanted to tell her, he’d wanted to share his stories of years of youthful adventures and derring-do, anticipating that his young friend would still be wide-eyed and quickly impressed. He had continued to think of her as a young girl; in his mind she was eternally a precocious thirteen-year old, even though he himself had grown and aged, and at least he’d thought, matured.
He couldn’t honestly have been expecting her to remain a child indefinitely, untouched by the passage of time, and yet, whatever he had been expecting was a far cry from reality. He’d been instantly taken with her and it had left him more than a little unsettled. They’d grown up together, he had always thought of himself as her protector and had earned her absolute trust and confidence. He had known that she had harbored toward him a young girl’s infatuation, with the slightest hint of child-like reverence, and in his mind she had always been a child; he hadn’t been able to think of her as anything else.
All of that had changed. She was fast approaching the date of her eighteenth birthday and the formal ceremony at which she would take her vows as a lifelong servant of her people. She would officially become the heir to the mantle of authority. Rumors held that she was already an accomplished pilot and an impressive addition to the High Council’s general advisory staff.
As he stood among the other young officers who had been selected to serve as the Council’s elite protective guard, he had realized that he needed to be placed on her detail. It was a highly coveted assignment and he had been prepared to do almost anything to obtain it. The other young men and women standing with him in the chamber gallery whispered in hushed tones as they watched the workings of the junior advisors and staffers, preparing for the day’s Council session. Ching did not hear a word of what was said. He never took his eyes off of her, straining to make out what she was saying as she spoke to the other advisors. She’d looked up at the gallery and their eyes met. Her bright green eyes grew wide and luminous, lit up by her smile. He’d watched as she politely excused herself and raced toward the chamber’s exit – the only way to the gallery. He too, had taken his leave, meeting her in the narrow stairwell that connected the chamber floor and its balconies.
“Ching!” she’d practically shouted his name with laughter in her voice as she threw her arms around his neck. He’d returned the embrace reflexively – his higher mental functions having departed him at her first touch. She had withdrawn and stepped back, a sheepish look on her face. “I am so glad to see you,” she’d said softly, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as she’d seemed to remember what decorum required of her.
“You could not be more happy than I am to see you,” he’d replied, surprised by his own directness. She’d responded with a beaming smile that made his heart pound against his chest like a trip hammer. “It has been far too long,” he had added.
“Then come along, I wish to hear everything,” she had said, still smiling.
He could not help but smile back, even though inside, the voice of reason was quietly reminding him that there was no woman in this world more unattainable than the future First Minister. It was beyond a mere impossibility. But there was nothing he could do. Sensible though it may have been, he could not well cause himself to fall out of love with her anymore than he could try to stop breathing.
That had been more than thirteen years ago and he loved her more now than he did then. He had tried to pretend that he could ignore his feelings, but it hadn’t lasted. She was, and for years, had been, the dominant force in his life. She was a selfless leader; she poured every drop of herself into her work for her people. And yet, she still had so much to give to him. She was his constant source of strength and hope. Moments like these, in which her faith was shaken, were remarkably rare. He pulled her into his arms, hoping she would find some small measure of comfort from his embrace.
“Do you believe we can…make this a better world?” she murmured.
Ching cradled her head with his hand as he held her close. “We will,” he said. “We have to.”
********
“Kal El! Are you all right?” Tao Scion exclaimed as he burst into Clark’s room. Clark struggled to nod, his eyes still shut tightly. He felt his chest ache with each deep, labored breath. His ribs seemed to crack under the strain of trying to draw oxygen into his body.
“It was a nightmare,” Clark replied, still gasping. “It was so vivid.” His whole body screamed in pain and he suddenly could not tell if it was because his tortured and restless sleep had caused him to aggravate his injuries or if it was merely his body responding to the memories of what had happened to him. The muted and splotchy memories he’d had of his detainment were suddenly becoming clearer, so real it was almost as if he was reliving them. It took him a while to shake the image of the dark, featureless dungeons where he’d been held from his mind and confirm that he was in his hospital room – the walls white and sterile, the only sounds those of the monitors and drones that kept constant watch over him.
“It is your memory, slowly piecing together your experiences,” Tao Scion explained gently.
“What?”
“What you endured was too difficult for your mind to accept all at once. It was overwhelming,” Tao Scion continued. “While you were unconscious, we attempted to make the reintegration of your memories more gradual, but things will continue to come back to you in pieces, often in nightmares.”
“So that’s why….” Clark trailed off, not certain he wanted to explore his troubled thoughts with his physician.
“Why you have been feeling disconnected, emotionally numb,” the old physician finished for him. “Your mind is still attempting to make sense of what happened to you. The problem is, it does not make sense. The only way for you to truly cope with what happened is for you to speak with someone.”
Clark looked away. “I don’t think I want to.”
“It is still early and you need time,” Tao Scion counseled gently. “I will give you something to help you fall back to sleep.” Clark watched in silence as the old doctor gave him an injection. Within moments, he felt his eyelids grow heavy. He drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
*******
Talan waited outside the First Minister’s recovery room, her hands folded stiffly in front of her. The door opened and Kal El’s silver-haired physician stepped out. She nodded formally and he responded with a stern nod. “Now, as I have already warned you, he is not to be troubled with work or anything likely to increase his stress.”
“Of course,” she replied. “I merely want to wish the First Minister a speedy recovery.” He had been conscious for three days now. She was aware that Kal El’s privacy had been closely guarded; no one other than Zara had been allowed to see him. Talan stepped through the door and into the stark confines of Kal El’s room. The First Minister seemed to doze in his bed, but he began to stir as she entered. He opened his eyes and struggled to sit up. “Commander,” he managed, a pained look on his face.
“How are you, sir?” she asked.
“I’ve been better,” he answered with a slight grimace. “But I can’t thank you enough. You saved my life again.”
“I merely did my job, sir,” she replied.
“Please, have a seat,” he said with something she imagined was intended to sound like cheer. His eyes looked dark and haunted, the brightness she’d recognized in them gone. “I suppose Tao Scion told you not to say anything that would make me worry.”
“I did promise not to discuss work with you, sir,” Talan said as she pulled a chair to his bedside and took a seat.
He nodded unemotionally. “Zara says the same thing every time she comes here. How are you?”
“Fine, sir. The First Minister has reassigned my unit to garrison duty for several weeks. My troops could use the rest.”
“No one’s told me how everything happened,” he said quietly. “How did you find me?”
“I did not do it alone, sir. It was the effort of many people who worked constantly, that led me to you,” she said solemnly. “As did this.” She opened her hand to reveal the chain and ring held in her palm.
She heard him gasp. His eyes grew wide and bright. She placed the chain and ring in his open hand and watched as his fingers slowly curled around it. With that, she relinquished the most precious and terrible burden she’d ever been entrusted with. She had kept her word; she had kept the ring safe and returned it to where it belonged. He gripped it tightly, his knuckles turning white. “I found it near the place where you fell,” she said softly. “I knew you would never have left it if there had been anyway to prevent it.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, the words swallowed up by a sob. His body began to tremble slightly and then shake. He kept his head bowed, but she could see tears roll down his cheeks. With his free hand he reached for and grasped hers and held tightly. She watched, dumbly and awestruck as emotions cascaded over him, threatening to drown him. He held on to her hand as though he’d be swept away without an anchor. She could not begin to imagine feeling as deeply as he did; to be that vulnerable, and that powerful. She looked down at his hand, holding tightly to hers. She was, in some peripheral way, connected to this chaotic squall of emotions. The experience was disquieting. Something inside her began to ache terribly, as though a fist clenched around her heart. She knew what she was experiencing was a mere shadow of the real emotions; she felt by proxy. How could he endure the genuine thing? Talan continued to hold his hand as he cried – tears of relief, of disbelief, she wasn’t quite sure.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you.” He released her hand and looked up, his eyes red from crying. “I can’t begin to tell you what this means to me,” he explained, his voice wavering. He opened his hand and looked at the small, golden band – its shape had been impressed into his palm from the way he’d held it so tightly. Fresh tears fell silently. “I was lost without this,” he whispered so quietly she barely heard him. She was not certain he intended her to.
Talan swallowed around the unfamiliar lump in her throat. “Your wife has been blessed by fortune,” she said as she rose to her feet. “To give her heart to one who holds it as precious as you do, and to have received in return the heart of one as good and pure as you are.” She turned and quietly exited. In the hallway, she closed her eyes, holding back the tears that pricked at her eyes. Tears that would never fall, but tears that stunned her nonetheless.
