[Chapter 3: Addressed]Clark silently eased himself down into bed, spotting the special phone from the Foundation on Lois' bedside dresser. It had been Mav's idea. Since Kal had his own way to contact the Foundation, it made sense to ensure his friends and family did too in case of an emergency. Hopefully it would never be needed, but it was a comfort to know his wife, parents, and the Hendersons could reach the Foundation if they ever needed.
He looked at Lois.
She was still asleep, and he was happy that his departure to the fire across town and his return had not disturbed her.
The past few weeks had been relaxing and needed. There had been relatively little drama in their personal and professional lives, although he knew Lois would say she wanted a bit more action at work.
The Hendersons had adjusted to the secret well, and it was nice to have another pair of confidantes for himself and Lois. He just hoped it wasn't too much for Melissa. A secret of this scale was a lot for anyone, let alone a 15-year-old.
However, it did allow them to discover something. After a covert visit to the Foundation, they now knew Melissa had a tiny aura of her own. It was barely visible on the special camera, but it was there.
It certainly explained a few things.
Dr. Klein wasn't sure if it would fade over time, like things had with Jesse, or if it was a permanent change to Melissa’s physiology. Either way, she didn't seem to have any powers, and if it wasn't for the special camera, no one outside herself and Kal would be able to even identify any difference.
It was a relief, for sure, and Clark was glad there was nothing more to be found. Other than being slightly more sensitive to Superman, Melissa could go on with her life like any other teenager.
Clark covered himself with the blanket and closed his eyes. He didn’t need sleep at the moment, but relaxing next to Lois as she slept was comforting and provided him with a perfect mental backdrop as he planned the coming day.
He was working on another missing person's case and began a mental checklist as his aura settled further around Lois.
After deciding he would try to interview some people on East Street in a few hours, Clark was suddenly pulled from his thoughts by a whimper.
He quickly rolled onto his side toward Lois, immediately feeling her distress.
She was afraid and angry, but soon all he felt from her was terror.
"Lois, honey, wake up, you're having a nightmare," he said gently but firmly, wrapping her securely with his aura as he shook her shoulder. "Lois, wake up," he said again, before her eyes snapped open.
She immediately clung to him as she gave into tears.
"Oh, Clark," she sobbed.
It took her a moment to be able to calm down enough to talk.
"You were dead," she gasped.
"It was just a nightmare. I'm okay. Ta'peel is gone," he assured.
She nodded, but continued to grip him tightly.
"I wonder how long we'll have these nightmares," she whispered softly. "I mean, they have been lessening, but. . . ."
"I don't know. Dr. Wilson said it's impossible to say. Everyone handles trauma differently."
She sighed softly.
"I suppose. I just wish my brain would stop coming up with such horrible things. Other than involving the parasites, most of my nightmares are about things that never even happened," she complained. "And they all start differently. The only thing consistent is what happens to you."
He tenderly kissed the top of her head.
"Mine all start the same," he admitted.
He had never told her that.
They had both discussed parts of their bad dreams before, but avoided going in-depth. Perhaps it was because they didn't want to provide each other with more material for future nightmares.
"They do?" she asked, her curiosity pressing her even as another part of her honestly didn't want to know.
She knew his dreams were so much worse than her own.
"I gave up," he whispered. "I gave up and then I was trapped inside of him, forced to watch as he drained the rest of the world."
She shook her head against him.
"Oh, Clark. That’s awful, but that didn’t happen, and you would never give up," she countered reassuringly.
But it didn’t reassure him.
His aura shivered with something she couldn't identify, but it emotionally hurt. It hurt so deeply her eyes watered and her chest tightened.
"But I did, Lois. I gave up on myself," he corrected.
She shifted against him and pulled back, looking at his face in the dim light of the night sky from the window. There were tears in his eyes and his damaged left eye seemed to shimmer with crystals of fire.
"I don't understand," she said.
He exhaled. Guilt and a confused self-reproach thickened around them.
"I believed and accepted that I was going to die. I didn’t think about anything but one thing. Taking him with me."
Lois was still and quiet for a long time.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
She frowned at him. "Why are you sorry? The fact you continued to fight is what's important. You didn't let him hurt anyone else."
"I don't know. I just feel. . . ." He sighed and began to retract his aura into himself, until he felt a mental warning from Lois. He sighed again and surrendered to her, allowing his aura to remain around her. "Logically, I agree with you. And I've talked with Wilson about this, but I still . . . it's. . . . Why can't I get this into words?" He took a deep breath.
"Do you not like that it came so close? You think you should have been able to stop him before it got to that point?" she asked, trying to understand.
"Partly, I guess, but no, it's. . . . I know I'm not making sense. I'm not sure I understand it myself. I think back to that moment and I can't believe . . . I didn't think about any of you."
"What do you mean?" Lois asked, confused.
"I didn't think about my parents and I didn't think about you, or us. I didn’t spare any thought about you, my wife. Everyone says that when they think they’re about to die they begin thinking about their lives and their loved ones, but I didn’t. Not at all. I'm not sure why," he said, frowning.
"Clark, I love you, so listen to me because this is important and I think you need to hear this, okay?" she said.
". . . Okay."
"You are being ridiculous," she stated bluntly.
He blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. You're being ridiculous. I can tell you why you didn't think about us, and I can tell you why you 'gave up’ on yourself. You did those things because you were doing what you had to do! Really, the best thing you could do! You were stopping an evil monster from killing more people. You didn't think about us because you had enough on your mind, and I think part of you didn't
want to think about us because that would mean some part of you would have to actually imagine Ta'peel getting to us if you failed, and you couldn't handle that. And some part of you knew that so you didn't think about us. As for giving up on yourself, there's a difference between
giving up and putting yourself aside because there is something more important.”
Clark swallowed.
“You had your priorities straight, Clark. You did the right thing and you did something no one else was able to do. You protected us. You prevented Ta’peel from hurting anyone ever again,” she said.
She turned, forcing him onto his back so she could lay on top of him. Her hands slid up his chest and came to rest on either side of his face, wiping away his tears.
“Wasn’t it you who just had a nightmare?” he asked.
“You already comforted me. Besides, what do I have to fear when I know you are with me?” she asked before kissing him with a whisper, “Let me comfort you.”
And so he did.
O o O o O
The weather was frigid, but that didn’t mean fewer fires. Oftentimes it meant more because heaters were pushed harder and people risked using creative methods to keep warm. At first, that's what many thought had caused the now raging fire at the orphanage, the night after Christmas, though later it would be learned a short in the tree’s wiring had been responsible.
"How many live here?" Paul Mohr, the fire chief, asked the orphanage matron as fire crews arrived and began helping the evacuation of the children and caretakers from the building. The night made it that much harder to navigate, though the flashing lights and spotlights from the emergency vehicles helped and at least captivated the frightened children.
"213 children, seventeen tending adults, counting myself," she quickly answered, physically shaking but trying to keep it together. "The babies are all out, they were on the ground floor, but I haven't seen my assistant, George Miles."
"Current count outside?" Mohr asked, turning to a fireman who had just run up.
"189 children, thirteen adults," he answered. "The fire is moving to the third and fourth floors. The main stairwell is now blocked."
The matron covered her mouth in horror, but then they heard a sonic boom.
A red streak shot through the window and short bursts of air echoed through the structure. In less than a minute, the roar of fire was silenced and the smoke from the windows began to slow.
/The fire is out, but there are injured in different areas,/ a voice stated in some of their minds.
"Where?!" Mohr called out, ignoring the bewildered look from the matron.
/Fourth floor, east corner room. Fifth floor, hallway closest to stairs, third and fifth room beyond there, and third floor, east-most room. Burns and smoke inhalation, mainly, four severe, two children. I'm about to stabilize one of them - third floor. There are also two groups of kids heading down now, totalling three and six. I directed them to the west stairwell. Total civilians still within structure: 21 children, three adults./
"We're sending teams to those locations now!" Mohr answered, knowing Superman would hear him before team leaders identified their destinations over the radio moments later.
Soon after, Superman appeared with an unconscious six-year-old boy and placed him on a stretcher by the ambulance. Most of the boy’s clothes had been burned away, but strangely, he didn't appear to have any burns.
"You healed him?" the paramedic asked, his eyes widening.
Superman nodded, exhaling unevenly before looking back to the charred structure.
He disappeared in a blur.
"George! George! Daniel!" the matron shouted as a man, a teenager, and two children were helped from the front entrance by two firemen.
George had some burns on his face and hands, but was clearly more concerned about the teenager and children being helped out behind him. The teenager wasn't too injured, but one of the children being carried by a fireman was in rough shape and crying. The fireman hurried past the others with the girl and to the closest empty stretcher.
The first responders quickly guided the others to another ambulance as Superman appeared with two more children. They were clinging to him but fortunately appeared unharmed.
Superman glanced back at the building as the matron and a paramedic saw to the two children. His good eye scanned over the scene before he went to Mohr.
"Everyone is out now," he said. "I've informed your team leaders."
"Thank you," Mohr said as Superman approached the fireman who was watching the paramedics tend to the burned girl.
She was about eight years old, with her left side severely burned. They began setting up an IV as they did their best to comfort her and placed an oxygen mask over her little nose and mouth.
Superman put his hand on the fireman’s shoulder reassuringly and stepped beside him. The man did a double take when he realized who was touching him but didn't flinch.
"How is she?" the fireman asked the paramedics as the girl's cries became whimpers.
At first, Mohr was afraid it was because she was going into shock, but then he realized she was staring at Superman and was no doubt trying to be brave.
"We're calling ahead to prepare the burn unit at Metropolis General," the paramedic said as they moved to load her up into the ambulance.
Mohr mentally winced with the others who knew what the future held in store for her, specifically skin grafts, constant worry of infection, and scars.
"Wait, let me help. I should be able to at least heal some of what’s happened," Superman said.
The paramedics glanced at each other and then motioned him forward.
"Don’t strain yourself," Mohr warned.
Superman nodded and took the girl's uninjured hand in his as he relaxed his aura and stopped right beside the stretcher.
"What's your name?" he asked gently.
"Laura," she said shyly, all signs of pain gone as he saturated his aura with as much peace as he could.
Mohr could barely fathom what he was feeling, and he knew he wasn't fully enveloped by Superman’s aura.
"Well, Laura, I want you to relax as much as you can. This is going to feel a little strange, and might twinge a little, but it'll mean less pain later. Okay?" he said, bringing his other hand up and resting it on her forehead.
"Okay," she said bravely.
Superman took a long, deep breath before slowly releasing it as he closed his eye.
Mohr couldn't feel his aura anymore, but, standing beside the fireman who had carried Laura, he could see it working.
Charred and blistered flesh seemed to go backward in time, easing into an angry sunburn and away from ruined tissue requiring surgery. Laura remained perfectly still, her eyes never leaving Superman's face.
Superman opened his eye and removed his hand from her forehead.
“The burns are mostly first degree now,” Superman said tiredly, looking at the first paramedic. “You’ll be okay,” he promised Laura before stepping back and releasing her hand.
They whisked her off to the hospital soon after and Mohr quickly moved forward as Superman suddenly swayed on his feet.
“You okay?” Mohr asked, stabilizing him with the help of the other fireman.
“Yeah. It’s getting a little easier to pull back,” Superman said happily as he gripped their shoulders for support.
Mohr was very glad the other first responders had helped to clear the area and that it was night. The media at least would not be able to capture this scene.
“Do you need a ride to the Foundation?” Mohr asked.
“Actually, if you could just help me to that spotlight, I should be good in a minute or so,” he said, indicating the spotlight they had used to better see the windows of the upper floors.
Mohr chuckled at the surrealness of helping Superman by recharging him. “Sure.”
O o O o O
He quietly landed in a quiet area of Wyoming, after making sure all was clear, and knocked on the back patio door.
"Come in," Wilson called.
Kal entered with his hair slicked back, wearing his simple jeans, shield t-shirt, and now familiar blue eyepatch.
"Hi, Doc," he said, quickly going into the side office that was right off the kitchen and hallway to the restroom.
Wilson lived with his wife on a few acres of land outside Rock Springs. It was a quiet but beautiful area, reminding Clark a bit of Smallville. Their home was a rustic ranch of log and stone. Their Christmas lights were now put away, which wasn’t much of a surprise since New Years had passed, but a fresh layer of snow blanketed the landscape.
"Marie is in town, so she likely won't be back until our session is over," Wilson said, coming in and closing the door as Kal sat down on the couch.
"Helping with the library?" Kal asked.
"Yeah. They're updating their system, finally beginning to phase out the card catalogs," he said.
Kal laughed. "I remember using those in school! Man, when my x-ray vision began to kick in, using them was a nightmare," he said.
"What would happen?"
"I would try to read a card only for me to look through it and read the one behind it. It was very confusing and a bit frustrating. I'm lucky the librarian was so patient with me," he said.
Wilson nodded thoughtfully before sitting in his usual chair and taking his notebook out.
“So, anything of note you want to share before we start?” Wilson asked.
“I don’t think so. Things are going pretty well I think. Nightmares are less,” he said.
"Sometimes it takes a blunt word from those we love to help us along, huh?" Wilson calmly said, referring to their last session when Kal had shared the discussion he had had with Lois, while leaving her identity and certain details out of course.
"Definitely," Kal agreed.
After his talk with Lois, for some reason everything had suddenly become lighter. Even the nightmares. It seemed that processing why they had always started the same had reduced their frequency and lessened their intensity.
Of course, he was still having them, and he knew he likely always would, they would just hopefully become further and further apart and weaker when they did occur.
He knew that for others who had suffered a traumatic experience, nightmares would sometimes disappear for a long time, years even, and then something would trigger one to surface. Thus, it was important for him to obtain the tools he would need to cope and address whatever came, because things likely would.
“I saw the news,” Wilson said, jotting something down.
“Oh? Are you talking about the subway, the bridge collapse, or something else?” Kal asked, honestly not sure what would have caught Wilson’s attention.
News of him healing the two children from the orphanage weeks before had already come and gone, and it had surprisingly passed easier than he had expected. It was certainly nice to be able to confidently ease injuries now, though he kept it to specific circumstances. However, it did get him thinking about a proposal he hoped to draft soon.
Wilson chuckled. “I’m sorry. I’m referring to the news commentary actually, which I guess technically involves all of those.”
“Oh. What are they saying?” Kal asked.
He hadn’t had time to listen to the news that morning, and Lois hadn’t commented on anything in particular before she went to work.
“You really don’t know?” Wilson asked, a bit surprised. “Well, it’s good, no question. I had just wanted to hear your thoughts on it, but since you don’t know. . . . They’re commenting on how you’re interacting with first responders. They even interviewed a few of them.”
Kal blinked, not quite sure what to think. Sure, he supposed he was a little more expressive than he used to be - not that he was ever a robot - so it made a bit of sense that people had taken notice.
He wasn’t waiting for others to initiate contact anymore. If he felt a paramedic or other first responder needed a degree of physical support or encouragement, he placed his hand on their shoulder instead of just giving a smile or nod that was occasionally accompanied by verbal support. He still did those things, of course, but while before he wouldn’t initiate any form of contact unless it was absolutely necessary, he now occasionally did so with only some hesitation.
He knew people were noticing, even though he was primarily only doing it with the fire chief’s friends and first responders he recognized, but he hadn’t realized the media had yet, though he should have expected that – granted, maybe he had forced himself not to?
In either case, more people were touching him without formal permission. Still appropriately and professionally, but now there was a degree of camaraderie that hadn’t been there before. And it was becoming more prevalent. It sort of reminded him of his years as a Lieutenant, only now there was also an occasional hug and not just shoulder grips, back slaps, and, yes, fist bumps.
What was even better was that since the incident with the chief, there had only been one other slight recurrence of what could be considered a flashback, but he had immediately recognized and quelled it.
"What are you thinking about?" Wilson asked.
"Things are getting better, and I haven't had a flashback in a long time," he said. "Do you think I'll just need to contend with nightmares now?"
"The mind is complex, but I think that's likely. You have handled everything remarkably, though I think a great deal of why is because you have a solid base of support and have learned to step back and ask for help when you need it."
Kal nodded. "I don't think I could continue to be Superman without my family. I doubt I would have even been able to become Superman if I had not been raised by them, and I know Superman wouldn't be able to function even half as well without my better half."
"Your girlfriend must be something," Wilson said, pleased.
"She's actually my wife," he corrected, smirking and clearly enjoying Wilson's resulting astonishment.
Wilson gaped. "Wow, congratulations! I need to get you a wedding gift!"
Kal laughed. "That's not necessary. It's been a while. Before Ta'peel to be honest."
“Still, congrats, man. Wow. How many people know?” he asked.
“Not many. I haven’t even told Mav because it hasn’t really come up. He knows I’m with someone, and Dr. Klein refers to her as my ‘lady friend’, but. . . .” He shrugged.
“Yeah. It’s a dangerous and special secret. Thank you for trusting me with it.”
Kal smiled before his gaze panned to the right and he tilted his head. His focus returned to him. “Nothing big, but I’ve got to go. I’ll see you next week,” he said before disappearing.
His sonic boom rattled the windows.
O o O o O
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