[Chapter 6: Waking]Lois was raw. She wasn’t sure how she had made it through work and wrote that evening’s article. Her hands had trembled with every keystroke.
The shattered remains of Nightfall were drifting away from Earth. There was no longer any danger. However, there were no signs of Superman either. The scientists promised to keep looking.
She wished Clark had been there to help with the story, but at the same time . . . she was glad he wasn’t.
She closed her eyes as she turned the knob of the door to her apartment, about to allow herself to give in to all of the fear, despair, and dread she had been bottling up all day long.
Where was Superman? Kal-El? Was he okay? Would he come back? Was he . . . was he gone?
His words echoed in her mind.
‘Please, let me save my home.' He had spoken with such a rare display of vulnerability before saving every single living being on the face of the planet.
Would those be his final words? The last statement she would ever hear from him?
His prayer had been answered. Would hers?
She entered her apartment with a sob and numbly relocked her door, mindlessly going from top to bottom as she ignored her tears.
At the click of the final lock, she pressed her forehead on the door to keep herself steady, and just let all of her anguish out.
She would never see Kal-El again! She would never be able to tell him. . . .
Her regret once again slammed into her and she wanted it all to just be over.
She wiped her eyes, ignoring the mascara now all over her fingers and no doubt on her cheeks and under her eyes.
She dropped her purse to the floor on her way to the kitchen, glancing at the clock that read 9:26 pm. It really had been a long, horrible day.
She suddenly wished she had some alcohol.
She didn't want chocolate fudge ice cream. It wasn't strong enough.
Frustrated, she settled with water and just chugged it before putting the cup in the sink and splashing her tear streaked face with water. Drying herself, she went to the side cabinet and took out the cracker box. After a few bites, she put it away, afraid she’d throw them up. Her stomach was all out of sorts from her nerves.
She needed a shower.
She trudged her way toward her room, her eyes panning her apartment with a bleak expression.
She frowned and blinked in confusion as her eyes settled on something just in sight around the corner.
Her pathetic potted plant that should have been on her side table by her balcony window was on the floor and broken. Dirt was all over the place. How had it fallen while she was out?
She slowed her approach.
Had her apartment been robbed? Ransacked? That would just be her luck. But how? Her door had been thoroughly locked and she doubted a criminal would relock them all. Maybe she had left her window unsecured? But how would they get to the window? And why leave the rest of her apartment unscathed?
Maybe the table leg had just failed?
She stepped around the corner and turned on the light.
She froze. For a long second, she couldn't comprehend what she was seeing.
A form covered in gray dust was sprawled out, chest down, on the floor beside the broken side table. The fabric tight against his back was in tatters and scorched. She thought maybe it had once been blue. The rest of the skin tight clothing covering him was in even worse shape – if it was there at all. He had no shoes and his hair was disheveled.
And then it clicked.
"Superman!?" she gasped, rushing forward.
She fell on her knees beside him, horrified.
"Oh, gawd, please, please don't be dead!" she begged, grabbing his shoulder and turning him over.
Later she would be surprised by her own daring, but in that moment all she cared about was helping him.
She somehow managed to turn him onto his back toward her, allowing his head to rest, cradled, in the crook of her left arm as her free hand frantically searched for a pulse at his neck.
She nearly cried in relief when she felt the steady, however weak, beat under her fingertips.
"Superman, Kal-El!" She bent closer to him and closed her eyes in gratitude when she heard his breath and felt it on her cheek. “Come on, wake up, please, you need to wake up! Can you hear me? Please wake up!”
She shook him gently, afraid to hurt him but at a loss of what else to do. Should she call 911? She felt inclined to do so, but why did he come to her?
After everything, why did he come to her?
She pushed aside her question and was about to ease his head and shoulders to the floor so she could call an ambulance, but then he stirred.
"Thank, G-d!" she cried as he opened his eyes.
"Superman, what do you need? Tell me what to do," she said desperately.
He groaned and closed his eyes in pain.
"Sleep," he mumbled.
"You can't go back to sleep, not yet. We need to make sure you're okay," she said earnestly.
He turned his head, his ear now in clear view for her to see. There was a dried trail of blood leading from out his ear to the edge of his jawline.
She gasped loudly. "You're bleeding! You need a doctor!"
He opened his eyes again, clearly out of it, but she could tell he was trying to focus on her.
"Doctor?" he asked, bewildered.
"You need a doctor. There's blood coming out of your ear, probably from hitting the asteroid!"
"Asteroid?"
"Yes! Here, I'm calling 911. We need to get you to the hospital," she decided.
"Wha–? No," he argued, though he was in no shape to fight.
Lois stilled. "No?" she questioned.
"I don't want to go anywhere," he said.
"You're bleeding, though, bleeding from your ear! You need help!"
"Can't," he said.
"You can't go? You can't go to the hospital? Why not?" she asked.
What could be so important to make him so adamant about this?
"Not normal. I'm not normal," he said, before closing his eyes. "So tired."
She frowned.
Of course he wasn’t normal, he was Superman, but maybe he felt that because he wasn’t human they wouldn’t be able to help him. Maybe he just needed a place to rest and recuperate.
But he was bleeding, and in such a way that she didn’t need to be a doctor to know not getting help could be very dangerous!
"Alright. I'll get someone here instead," she compromised, hoping he wouldn’t fight this, especially while he was laying limply, literally, in her arms.
He hummed in what she hoped was agreement.
Gently, she set him down all the way to the floor. She wondered if she should help get him into bed first, but he seemed too out of it anyway. Besides, she doubted she was strong enough to lift or even support him. It had taken a lot for her to even turn him over onto his back. She didn't want to risk getting him up only for him to collapse on her or something else, hurting himself further.
She refocused. She had to get help.
But who should she call for help? Who could she call for help?
Clark was out of town, likely for the rest of the week, and though she was sure he would come to help, Superman needed help now.
She considered her father for a split second, but it was unlikely she would reach him and, even if she did, he probably wouldn't be available to actually help anyway.
She frowned. For all of her contacts, she didn't have many in the medical field at all. Or at least one she would trust.
After a moment of hesitation, she decided she only knew one person with enough contacts who would be able and willing to help.
Perry.
She quickly dialed his office number, figuring he was likely still at work, despite the late hour.
"Perry White, Daily Planet," he answered.
"Thank goodness. Perry, it's Lois. I need you to come to my apartment right now with the most trustworthy doctor you know," she all but ordered.
"Lois? What's going on, what's this about?" he asked, picking up on her tone and instantly knowing this was serious.
"He made it back, but . . . I don't know. He doesn't want to go to the hospital but I think he should be checked out. He's not okay," she said, not sure how much to say over the phone while trying to remain calm. Calmish, at any rate.
"He–! You mean–?" he began, immediately figuring out who she was talking about. "I don't know if I can get anyone at this hour, but I'll see what I can do. What's wrong with him?"
"He was unconscious but he's talking now, though he's not really awake, and, Perry, there's dry blood from his ear. He's really out of it."
"Okay. Try to keep him awake. It sounds like he might have a concussion. I'm going to try Dr. Ngo, then I'll be there as soon as I can," Perry promised before hanging up.
Lois sighed in relief before turning back to Superman. He hadn't moved at all.
"Superman, please, stay awake," she said, hurrying back to him and kneeling down again.
"Where am I?" he asked, squinting up at her. He was still laying on his back on the floor.
"You're in my apartment," she said, wondering what she could do for him if he did have a concussion, which was looking extremely likely.
"Why . . . ?" he asked.
"Why? Why are you in my apartment?" she asked, confused on what he could be asking about.
"No. Superman. Why are you calling me that?" he asked.
Lois blinked, completely and utterly baffled. Something was very wrong here.
"It's what people call you." She didn't know what else to say.
"They do?" he asked, looking just as baffled.
"Superman," she said slowly. He frowned at the name. She pressed on. "Do you know who I am?"
"Your name is Lois," he managed, but his uncertainty was blatant.
"You don't remember anything, do you?" she asked, even as she tried to not let her fear bleed into her voice.
"I'm sorry," he said, lost.
Even as she quelled a frantic bull of panic within her, she felt a surge of protection for him rise up within her.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. And your real name is Kal-El, but the world knows you as Superman," she explained, her voice a thread away from cracking from the emotion in her chest.
"Kal-El? Is that middle eastern?" he asked.
"It's Kryptonian."
"Is that a tribe?" he asked.
Lois frowned. "No, it's . . . Sup--Kal-El, what do you remember?"
"Just . . . Just you. Sort of. And a dream, I think. I was floating above Earth." He closed his eyes for several seconds before opening his eyes again.
She covered her mouth in shock.
He didn't remember
anything.
He didn't remember being Superman. Didn't remember anything about himself. He didn't remember how many times he had saved her life or how important he was to the world.
And he didn't remember what she had done to him.
Would his memories return?
What would he do if they did?
What would happen if they didn't?
"Let's get you off the floor," she said, desperately hoping he couldn't tell she was barely keeping it together.
"‘Kay," he agreed.
He slowly sat up. After resting a minute, he got to his feet with her support. She counted it a victory when he only swayed for a few seconds before stabilizing.
"Okay. To the bed. You need to take it easy," she decided, squelching her memories from before as hard as she could.
"But . . . I'm filthy," he said, looking down at himself.
Lois bit her lip. He was right. She supposed he could go get cleaned up. He did, miraculously, seem to be doing better than when she had called Perry. And maybe a shower would help him.
"I can find you something clean to wear," she proposed. "And you . . . you can use my shower, if you think you're okay enough?"
"I think I am," he said.
"Okay. The towels above the cabinet are clean," she said. "I'll be right out here, so if you need anything, uh, let me know."
"Okay. Thanks."
She led him to her bathroom, past her bed, and watched him shuffle on and close the door behind him.
She quickly retrieved the biggest T-shirt and sweatpants she had and was, for the first time, grateful for one of her sister's practical jokes. Years ago, Lucy had gotten her a package of boxer briefs as a joke after learning Lois sometimes disguised herself as a man during investigations. As ridiculous as it was, Lois hadn't gotten rid of them. Hurray for this instance of hoarding.
She heard the water from the shower and tried her best not to pace or hover outside the bathroom door, even as she strained her ears to hear anything reminiscent of him falling or calling her name.
She sat down on the edge of her bed and forced herself to take a deep breath while ignoring the dirt and broken pot beyond her room.
She couldn't believe what was happening.
She was so grateful he had come back, that he had survived Nightfall against all odds, but now she was afraid.
Afraid she would mess up again.
No. This was a second chance. A chance to make up for her mistake, at least a little bit. She couldn't erase the past, but she could still help him.
She wondered when Perry, and hopefully that doctor, would arrive as she forced herself to not think about Kal-El's letter currently in the drawer of her nightstand. Still unread.
The water turned off.
"Uh, Lois?" he hesitantly called.
She quickly went to the door.
"I'm here," she assured.
He cracked open the door and she held out the folded clothes for him. He took them gratefully, and she tried not to stare as she noticed the towel around his waist.
"Thanks," he said, before closing the door again.
A few minutes later he stepped out, looking much better than before. Her oversized gray t-shirt was quite small on him and the sweatpants were borderline high waters, but the fatigue that had been dripping from him earlier was gone. His hair was slicked back but wasn't as orderly as his norm. It definitely wasn't gelled.
He looked at her uncertainly.
"How do you feel?" she asked, stepping away from the bed.
"Better, I think," he said.
"Well, I think you should still rest. Perry should be here soon, and maybe a doctor," she advised, indicating the bed.
"Perry?" he asked, before growing nervous. "A doctor?"
"Superman, I mean, Kal-El, you . . . you stopped an asteroid. You hit it hard enough to deflect it and save Earth. The fact you're here is a miracle, but it obviously hurt you. It's no doubt why you can't remember anything," she explained before biting her lip.
Maybe she should have waited.
He frowned. "I hit an asteroid? How?"
"Here. Maybe I should just show you. Come on," she said, now leading him to her living room.
She turned on the television and indicated for him to sit.
"I, uh, am not sure how to tell you everything but I don't think not trying would be helpful. You're . . . you're very important to the world," she managed as he sat.
She turned as LNN news came on.
'EPRAD scientists confirm the threat from Nightfall is over but they unfortunately haven't been able to determine the fate of Superman. It is hoped after deflecting Nightfall that his trajectory was back toward Earth, but due to the debris from Nightfall, they can't triangulate his likely path,' the reporter said.
The screen displayed the last image of Superman's face, moments before he had secured the helmet on his head and departed for Nightfall.
"That's me?" he asked, surprised.
And then the image changed to replays of other instances of him in the news, primarily amazing rescues and him doing impossible feats.
Lois slowly eased herself in the chair beside the couch as he stared at the screen.
"Yeah," she answered.
Superman silently watched himself lift cars, put out burning buildings, carry injured people through the air and smile in front of huge crowds.
"How am I doing those things?" he asked, astonished.
"You're . . . Kryptonian. I don't know
how you do those things, you just do, but it's because you're Kryptonian. Scientists think you get your powers from the sun," she tried to explain, now really second guessing her decision to show him this way.
Superman frowned in thought, but before either of them could say anything more, someone knocked on her door.
"Oh! That must be Perry!" She jumped up and hurried to the door.
O o O o O
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