[Chapter 8: Regain]Lois wiped her eyes as she entered her room and opened the top drawer of her nightstand. She retrieved the envelope and took it back to her bed where she shakily removed the single folded sheet of paper.
It was handwritten, and the scrawl was flawless.
With tears in her eyes, she read.
Dear Lois,
I suspect receiving a letter from me is the last thing you expected, but I decided I couldn't leave things the way we had left them. I just wish I had figured out a way to talk to you directly, before the threat of Nightfall came. I hope this letter will suffice.
I hear things. I know how you have been. I know how your work has suffered and how much you have. Even now I am certain you still are, and I can't allow that to continue.
You made a mistake and, yes, you hurt me, but life is too short, too fragile to allow a single decision - yours or anyone else's - to rule your life. Especially when you've learned from it. I want you to be able to live the rest of your life without that mistake weighing you down, so please believe me when you read this. I have forgiven you. And I never hated you.
Whatever happens with Nightfall, know that I left hoping you will eventually forgive yourself and live a good long life.
And if I should return, one day I will keep my promise and show and tell you everything. Everything I keep secret from the world.
Eternally yours,
Kal-ElLois had never cried so hard in her life, even when her guilt has been so potent and debilitating. But this cry was different. It was relieving and grateful, tinged with a deep sense of poignance.
Kal-El was back, but he didn't remember. However, even without his memories, he was still the same kind, selfless man he had been before.
And he was still waiting for her in her kitchen.
She stood up and left her room, feeling better than she had in a long time.
"Kal-El?" she asked tentatively.
She stepped into the kitchen and found him by the counter with a fresh cup of coffee.
"Was it okay?" he asked nervously, turning toward her and putting his coffee down. "The letter?"
Pushing aside her wayward hope that he hadn't used the bad milk, she hurried forward.
"You were right," she said, clutching the sheet of forgiveness close to herself as she continued toward him. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
She wasn't sure who initiated the hug, but his arms were soon around her as she pressed herself against him.
They pulled back a moment later, both clearly flustered, but happy.
"Here, you should read it," she said, holding it out for him.
He smiled. "Okay."
He took the page, and she watched him read.
His eyebrows rose higher the further he went, and as he no doubt came to the end, he closed his eyes.
She didn't move, holding her breath.
"I remember," he said finally as he smiled softly. "I remember writing this."
"You do?" she asked, daring to hope.
He frowned, his eyes looking back and forth but not really focusing on anything. "I remember other things. . . ."
He startled, giving her the letter back.
"My parents! I need to go. They don't know I'm really okay," he said.
A dozen questions passed through her mind, but she ignored her desire to quench her curiosity and instead put her hand on his arm.
"Then go to them," she said. "I'll be here."
"Thank you, Lois. I don't remember everything yet, but thank you. No matter what, I'll always be grateful for your help," he said, cupping the side of her face with his warm hand.
He pulled his hand away after a moment and glanced down at the counter to his empty mug.
"Did you drink the bad milk?!" she asked suddenly, aghast.
"Oh, I, uh, I guess I must have. Sorry for finishing it," he said.
"'Sorry for finishing' the sour milk that I was going to dump out anyway?" Lois asked, now amused. "Well, I suppose it can't hurt you."
He shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "It didn't taste bad, but then I don't remember the last time I had coffee," he said honestly. "Or how it's supposed to taste," he added, chuckling slightly at the tongue-in-cheek joke about his lack of memories.
She laughed, shaking her head. "Well, when you get back I'll make sure to have fresh milk so you can compare," she said before being stuck with a thought. "Wait, do you remember how to fly?"
He grinned. "Yeah. I remember how to control my powers again."
She gave a relieved smile.
"Well, I better go," he said.
"Okay."
She walked him to the window and gently opened it.
"Please send my regards to Perry. Oh! And before I forget, if he has any good ideas on what to do with the remnants of my uniform, feel free to give it to him. I . . . I'd rather not throw it away, but it's definitely ruined."
"We'll take care of it. It is a piece of history, after all,” she said, inwardly wondering if he was drawing out his departure intentionally or not.
He blinked, taken aback by the historical importance of his suit.
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “Okay, well, I’ll leave it to you.” He stepped up onto the ledge of the window. “Good evening, Lois.”
“Bye,” she returned.
And then he was gone, a sonic boom behind him.
O o O o O
Kal-El landed behind his parents' home. He didn't remember as much as he would have liked, he didn't even know his name yet, but he knew this was home.
However, he suddenly felt silly and uncertain as he knocked on the back patio door. What if what he had remembered was an old memory and they no longer lived here? Maybe he should have looked into this property before just showing up? Well, it was a bit too late now as he heard movement within the house.
And then they were there.
"Clark!" his mom cried.
She enveloped him, and he instantly knew her arms were his sanctuary and his dad's hand on his shoulder was his anchor.
"Mom, Dad," he breathed as his mind was rocked by all that was Clark Kent.
"Clark, we didn't know where you were but knew you would come when you could after the Planet made that statement," she explained. "Are you okay?"
She and his father pulled back, waiting for him expectantly.
"Yeah. Yeah, I, uh, had amnesia, but it came back and I remembered the rest just now," he said, collecting himself.
"Amnesia?" his dad asked, concerned.
"It's okay. Perry was able to get a good doctor and he told us it sometimes happens when someone goes through high stress situations and that the memories typically come back completely, eventually," he said.
His dad's eyes widened in concern.
"Let's get inside and you can tell us everything that happened," he said.
Sitting down at the table, Clark did exactly that, rehashing all that had happened to him since waking up on Lois' apartment floor. He only remembered snippets of his flight back, but he didn't feel like covering that, and his parents didn't seem to mind that omission.
"So Dr. Ngo was sure you'd be fine?" his mom asked.
"Yeah," Clark said, though he knew his dad wasn't too thrilled about the fact a doctor had been able to examine him.
"And you said Perry trusted him?" Jonathan asked.
"Yeah, Dad. I really don't think I have anything to worry about with him."
"Okay, as long as you're sure, son," Jonathan relented.
"So Lois read your letter?" Martha asked, speaking after a silence had lapsed between them.
"Yeah, she did."
"What are you going to do now?" she asked.
"I'm going to tell her," he said with a deep breath. "Not telling her now would feel wrong."
Martha slowly nodded, agreeing with the decision overall.
"I just don't know how, and I'm . . . afraid," he admitted.
"You're afraid that she'll only see you as Superman after you tell her?" Jonathan asked.
"No, I think she's demonstrated that she actually sees Clark, and I'm not concerned about whether or not she'd keep my secret. No, I'm afraid of what the truth will do to her. I don't know what she'll do when she realizes that what she did to Superman she also did to Clark," he said, being mindful of his strength as he tightened his hands around the glass of fresh buttermilk.
His parents nodded understandingly, though Martha's eyes narrowed at how he referred to himself in the third-person.
"It'll also reveal the fact I kept the secret from her for nearly half a year before that night, though the reason why I kept it a secret will instantly be clear, which will only add to her guilt.
"And then, on top of all of that, there's also the realization that I've been working alongside her for months after it! It's . . . a lot to take in," he said.
"Yes, it is, but I think clearing the air, so to speak, is better done before too much more time passes," Martha advised.
Clark nodded in agreement. "I'll tell her soon, maybe Friday, that way she at least has the weekend to hopefully come to terms with it before work Monday," he says.
"I think that's a reasonable plan," Jonathan said.
Clark put his head down on his forearm.
"In the meantime, I think you could use a bit more sleep," his mom said.
"Yeah," Clark agreed, getting up to head to bed.
O o O o O
Lois stepped into work that morning, not surprised to see Clark's desk empty.
He had called her briefly that morning, letting her know he'd be back the next day, he just wanted to finish a few things in Smallville. She was relieved, and told him as much. Though surprised by her own honesty, she decided not to feel too self conscious about it, especially when Clark responded so happily to it.
She sighed. She still wondered how much Clark knew and decided she might one day ask Kal-El. One day.
She glanced at the coffee maker beyond the bullpen and couldn't help but grimace. She still couldn't believe Superman had drunk a whole cup of contaminated coffee. The thought alone made her want to gag and she actually suddenly felt a little queasy.
"Lois!" Perry called.
"Yeah, Chief?!" she called, grateful for the distraction.
"My office!" he called.
Lois hurried over, carrying a small box under her arm. He shut the door behind her.
"I've already contacted EPRAD and the National Museum about what they'd like to do with the remains of Superman's uniform and, let me tell you, they're ecstatic. You're sure Superman is fine with whatever's decided?" Perry asked.
"As long as it's not used disrespectfully or something, I don't think he really has a strong opinion. He just didn't want it thrown away. If I remember right, his mother made the uniform for him," she said.
Perry's eyes widened. "Is that so? Well, I'll definitely make sure the people-that-be know that."
She nodded, putting the box down on his desk. She then slowly lifted the lid, revealing the filthy suit, neatly folded, within. The crest was in full view, though the top right edge was frayed and all of the colors were muted and coated in a thin layer of dust. There were also holes and tears throughout the formerly sapphire blue fabric. It was astonishing to know this thin material had survived an impact that would have decimated the world.
It was just as astonishing that the man who had worn it had returned, and returned in one piece, super powers or not. He just as easily could have been lost.
"Lois, are you okay?" Perry asked.
"Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Perry," she assured, but that didn't seem to mollify him.
"Here, sit down, you look really pale all of a sudden," he said, pulling out a chair for her.
She sat down just in time as the world suddenly swooned.
"Lois?" he asked.
She opened her eyes, not remembering when she had closed them.
"Yeah?" she asked, blinking at him.
"I want you to go home and schedule a doctor appointment asap. You zoned out on me for almost a minute. I was about to call for help."
"Perry, I don't need to go–" she started.
"You've been running on near empty for a while, honey. And you haven’t been yourself for several weeks – months really. Don't think I haven't noticed. You had started to do a little better but, with this past week, you've ended up draining yourself dry. Get yourself checked out. It likely is just stress, but I’ve seen too many instances of people waiting to get checked out only to discover something too late. Just humor an old man," he said seriously.
She frowned. "Okay, Perry, but only for you."
"I'll keep you posted on the suit and if I hear from Superman, assuming you don't before me," he said as she stood up.
"Okay," she said, grudgingly admitting to herself that maybe she should see a doctor.
.
.
Four hours later she sat waiting in her primary doctor's office. She had been very lucky that someone canceled at the last minute and they had been able to slide her in that same afternoon.
She had just finished taking a general battery of tests that would hopefully determine whether or not there was anything she should worry about. She felt confident it was just stress and that she would begin to improve now that the source of the stress (her guilt!) had been greatly reduced the day before.
A knock on the door broke her from her musings, and the doctor entered.
"Well, Lois, good news, you're extremely healthy other than being slightly dehydrated," Dr. Marsh began as she sat down in the stool across from her.
There was a folded sheet of paper in her hand.
"Oh, that's good. Is that why I almost passed out this morning?" she asked, relieved to hear confirmation of her belief that all was well.
Dr. Marsh smiled. "Partly. One test did come back positive, which is likely the real cause.”
She opened the sheet and handed it to her. Lois scanned the page, only to freeze on a block of text.
"I'm . . . I'm pregnant?" she breathed.
All sensation fled her. She felt utterly numb.
How was this possible?
As in, she knew
how, but how could
she be after all this time?! It had been nearly three months and . . . she supposed it was possible. Unlikely, but possible.
She had blamed everything on stress and had never imagined becoming pregnant was on the table. She had even been on the pill. She couldn’t believe she had fallen into the ‘it’ll never happen to me’ mentality trap.
But, how could she be pregnant?!
And why wasn’t she showing? She should be starting or almost starting the second trimester, right? People began to show then, right? Or at least that's what she thought her mother had pointed out once. Admittedly, she didn’t know much about pregnancy.
Her numb, confused surprise then morphed into astonishment and fear.
But this wasn't a normal pregnancy.
She was pregnant with Superman's baby.
What little she did know about pregnancy might be moot.
What would this pregnancy entail? Was there anything she should or shouldn't do? Was her body even capable of providing what this child needed to develop properly?
“Lois?”
“I . . . I can’t believe it,” she managed.
What was she going to do?
What would Kal-El think?
“Are you okay?” Dr. Marsh asked.
Lois put her face in her hands.
“Well, you are still very early in the pregnancy, if you wished . . . it would be fairly simple to–”
A cold spike sheared through her center.
“No! No . . . I’ll . . . I’ll figure it out,” she managed.
This . . . this life was from him. Them. Sure, the circumstances were . . . less than ideal, but. . . .
She swallowed.
But how was she going to tell him this? After everything. . . .
But she had to tell him.
In a daze, she scheduled an appointment with an OBGYN Dr. Marsh recommended and left praying things would be okay.
O o O o O
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