Chapter Fifteen
My Prayer, And The Answer You Give

Letour was taken aback by the strangled gasp that came from the woman called Lois, not realizing that her reaction was only audible to one other person in the room. She intrigued him, and he felt an overwhelming desire to talk with her, only the insidious mists were returning to cloud his brain, while the lethargy that always followed his migraines was draining his will to stay upright. He staggered towards her on legs that felt more like rubber than muscle and bone and was grateful to the young man in the clingy black suit who hurried to lend him his arm.

For a few seconds his focus was redirected to the man at his side. Letour felt he should know this person. Hadn't they spent many hours together, working to save those who'd been buried beneath the mud?

Yes, it was coming back to him. The terrible disaster of yesterday and the brave rescue efforts which had followed, spear-headed by this caring youngster. This was Jor-El, the Kryptonian superhero... the son of Superman.

But Letour knew something else had happened later... something important, when he'd finished his shower. This son of Superman had called him dad! But that was impossible. He was Letour and he had no family... and yet, how would he know? Though, even without his memory, he was certain of one thing, he was no super man.

“You called me Lois!”

The lovely woman was talking again and she sounded almost as confused as he felt.

“I just felt that might be your name.... Isn't it?” he asked.

“Yes!” Lois nodded her head, her smile encouraging, yet she was almost afraid to ask her question. “Do you know who I am?”

Letour returned his concentration back to Lois. He had to admit he liked what he saw. She really was a beautiful woman, and she had this glow about her that seemed to speak to his heart... but he wasn't sure he'd met her before. That thought saddened him. Slowly he shook his head, which was a mistake as the coils of pain snaked up his neck and tightened round the pathways of his brain.

“I might have seen you before... but I'm sorry, I have amnesia, you see,” he added quickly, hoping to wipe away the disappointment that shadowed her eyes. He had no idea why it should be so, but her sorrow upset him. “But I did know your name....” For a fleeting moment he was certain of his facts, then his voice failed as he struggled to fight off the resumption of his headache.

“Dad, what's wrong?” Jor-El tightened his grip on his father's arm as he watched him grimace in pain. His dad was sick again, just as he had been in the bathroom earlier.

“I'm sorry,” Letour repeated again, allowing himself to be helped to the chair next to where his Lois was standing.... His Lois! With that thought came such joy, but rushing behind his elation came needles of steel that stabbed at his eyes and scraped along his every nerve ending. How could she be his Lois when he didn't know her... except in dreams? The pain intensified until he could no longer keep silent. He doubled over and his groan sounded like a thunder clap assaulting his eardrums.

“Oh, my god,” Lois ground out, leaning over him, stroking his brow where beads of sweat collected and ran down his face. “What is happening to him? Tell me!”

“It's another of his attacks,” Marje answered, anxiety sharpening her lilting voice. “But it's worse than normal. Mac, get a glass of water and painkillers... and a bowl. He'll probably be sick,” she explained, looking directly into Lois' eyes, her expression filled with sympathy.

“Please, let me?” Adrienne asked, from close behind the little group huddled round the chair. “I can help him.”

“Haven't you done enough?” Lois threw the scathing words back over her shoulder, not even deigning to glance at the woman.

“Probably. But I know what's happening. He's been conditioned to feel pain when he tries to remember,” Adrienne said urgently. “This is why this attack is stronger than before. He's being physically confronted by his past and his mind is trained to reject the images.”

“Are you suggesting his pain is psychosomatic?” This time Lois did stare at Dr Ducos, the desire to knock the physician clear across the room for what she had done to Clark warring with the need to bring him relief.

“Not completely. There are certain physical causes for his headaches, but I believe I can lower the pain to manageable levels, but you have to let me act quickly. I'm not sure how much longer his body can withstand such trauma.”

Lois felt rent in two. Giving control of Clark over to this female went against every instinct she had; she just didn't trust either of these doctors, yet it was clear from Clark's huddled form that he needed medical aid... and he needed it fast.

“Mom?” That one uncertain word from Matt told Lois he felt as torn as she. Yet, preoccupied by her concern for Clark, she didn't notice enlightenment dawn slowly on the doctor's face.

“Lois, lassie, I think ye have nae choice.” She felt a hand touch her back and lifted her eyes to meet the concerned gaze of Mac.

“Arrrgh!”

Another pain-wracked moan from Clark prompted her decision. She rose and yielded her position to Dr Ducos. “Do what you can... but I promise you, if you hurt him again I will see you rot in some prison somewhere for the rest of your life.”

Adrienne nodded. “Thank you,” she said briefly, trying to sound reassuring, then she was passing orders to her colleague. “Stephan, I need a sedative. See what's in that medical bag we got from the rescue centre. Liquid diazepam will do if there's nothing else.”

Stephan hurriedly began his search, while Adrienne squatted down in front of her patient, gently taking his head within her hands. “Letour, can you hear me?”

Clark made no sign of recognition, having retreated far inside himself. His eyes were shut tight, yet anguish and terror were evident in every plane of his face and in the rigid contours of his body.

Adrienne tried once more, knowing her words would shock those listening and yet aware she had no other choice but to regress to the days of his conditioning. She pitched her voice loud enough to reach her subject through his pain. “Specimen, can you hear my voice?”

There was a barely perceptible change in the man in the chair.

“Listen to my voice, Specimen, and open your eyes.”

In the room, only Stephan moved, having carried out Adrienne's request. The others were frozen in horrified amazement. Again Lois had been tempted to floor Adrienne at the name Specimen, and she'd been grateful for Mac's hand poised on her shoulder reassuringly. Thankfully, Marge seemed to be fulfilling the same role as mentor to Matt.

Agonizingly slowly, Clark's eyelids lifted and he stared directly into Adrienne's face, clearly unaware of anything or anyone else around him.

“I know you are in great pain, Specimen.” Adrienne kept her voice level and friendly, as if she were chatting with a colleague during a coffee break. “Soon the pain will lessen, but first, I want you to remember that your name isn't Specimen... it's Letour.”

This time Lois protested audibly. “Hey, wait a minute....” But she halted as Adrienne raised her hand for silence.

“Mrs Kent, stop,” Stephan cautioned quietly, though not unkindly. “Specimen was merely a trigger to gain his attention. Superman was brainwashed over a long period of time and we have to use caution. We can't overload his system with too much information. Adrienne does know what she's doing, and she was the one who gave him his identity as Letour, after the treatment. He will recognize that.”

And it seemed that Stephan spoke truly as Clark answered, his voice devoid of all emotion. “Letour. I understand.”

“Good, that's good, Letour,” Adrienne continued. She turned slightly to accept the hypodermic from Stephan. “I'm going to inject you with something that will relax you and take away some of your pain. Don't be afraid.”

Clark didn't move as the needle pierced his skin, yet Lois flinched. Witnessing the fact that he was now completely vulnerable hurt more than she'd ever thought possible.

“Letour, I want you to pay attention to my voice... only my voice,” Adrienne instructed, swabbing down the injection puncture and covering it with a dressing.

Jeez! Lois thought, did all these psycho-babble freaks use the same methods. She just prayed that Adrienne Ducos had Clark's best interest at heart, and was not so self-serving as Maxwell Dieter.

“Letour, the pain you feel is easing; your illness is manageable. Breath deeply and be calm. Let go of the headaches. They are not totally real. They are brought on when you try to delve into your past life. Your illnesses were induced to stop you from remembering the things General Hyesan wanted you to forget.”

Clark nodded.

“Do you remember the General?”

“Yes. I didn't like him.”

There was no inflection in Clark's tone and yet Lois felt like applauding. She was fairly sure that not liking the murderous General would have been an understatement on her part.

“General Hyesan was a wicked man, Letour, and he hurt you very badly. Neither Dr Janik nor I can fix what he did to you here and now, but we'd like to try someday. Would you be agreeable to that, Letour?”

“If you think it best.”

Lois was screaming inside. She so dearly wanted to push Ducos aside and comfort Clark for the terrible things that had been done to him by order of this General, but unfortunately, she was way out of her depth. She had no choice but to rely on these doctors, at least, until such time she could return Clark to Metropolis and Dr Klein's care.

“However, in the meantime, Letour,” Adrienne went on steadily, “you will be able to control the fear and pain you experience when you believe you have knowledge of someone from your past, way before your days spent in the bunker.”

“But I can't remember my life before the bunker,” Clark stated plaintively.

“And yet you feel you should?” Adrienne asked.

“I feel I want to. I think I have dreams.” A tiny note of longing had crept into Clark's voice and his eyes seemed more focused. Thankfully, for all concerned he no longer appeared like a robot.

“Yes, I believe you do. You had them in the bunker, too. It infuriated Hyesan. I think he felt I wasn't doing my job to the fullest of my ability, and perhaps he was right.” Adrienne allowed a less professional note to creep into the conversation, hoping to form a rapport with her patient and also to persuade Mrs Kent to believe in her. “My heart was never really in taking away your hopes and aspirations. Besides, you hung onto them with all your considerable strength, even though you paid a high price for your tenacity. But that was in the past and now, I want you to listen to me again. I don't want you to shut out these dreams anymore. Embrace them and trust that they will lead you in the right direction.”

“What about the pain, Dr Ducos?” Clark's attention was definitely caught. “Will it disappear?”

“I'm afraid I can't make it go for good or completely because there is a physical cause too... but you can learn to control it instead of the other way round. And I can arrange for pain medication. It's all I can do at this time, but I'm hoping with your friends and family to support you, your life will improve.”

“Family?” Clark's whispered word was full of wonder.

“Perhaps,” Adrienne agreed kindly.

Clark nodded again, a small almost imperceptible motion, but his eyes now reflected understanding and his own quick intelligence. Though it was obvious to the onlookers that he was still trying desperately to conquer the pain.

“Good, Letour,” Adrienne said warmly as she patted his arm before rising. “Try to relax. The drug should kick in soon to help you. Close your eyes and rest.”

“No, I've been resting enough.” His voice was frail, yet there was a doggedness in his manner that couldn't be ignored. “I have too many questions and no time to wait for answers.”

The note of desperation in Clark's latter statement sliced into Lois' soul. She could see how close his health was to breaking down and as always when he was in trouble, she strove to save him. Crouching down beside him again, Lois said as lightly as she could. “Letour, perhaps you should listen to Dr Ducos' advice. You do look tired, and neither Jor-El nor I are going anywhere.” From the depths of her soul she dredged up a shining smile to give to him. “You can ask your questions later and we'll answer all that we can.”

“And you won't disappear again?” He watched her face, his breath catching in his throat as he waited for her answer. The very thought of losing this woman before he had a chance to get to know her was as distressing as the migraine.

“Never.” She said softly. Clark's anguished question almost destroyed Lois' composure, yet she needed to be strong for his dear sake. Taking his large hands within her smaller ones, she smoothed her fingers over his roughened skin. They were the hands of someone who toiled outdoors and she smiled whimsically, reflecting that Clark had unknowingly returned to his Kansas roots.

Suddenly, her touch alighted on his ugly stump, and Clark instinctively tried to recoil. These days, he was seldom conscious of his disfigurement, but the thought that Lois would perhaps be repulsed by his missing finger made him cringe.

But his fear was unfounded. Lois gave him a tender glance, but refused to release his hand. She gently explored the skin which stretched over the remaining bone. “Does it hurt much?” Her expression showed no revulsion, only a sympathetic concern.

“No. Not anymore.” He returned her gaze and her smile. “I've had time to get used to it, but I know it doesn't look too good.”

A charming blush stained his skin and Lois was transported back in time. Although Clark had never been exactly vain, he had liked to look good. He'd always dressed well, and even those outrageous ties had somehow managed to blend in with whatever he was wearing.

“Jor-El told me how you pulled people from the mudslide during the rescue mission. Your hands saved lives, so they are strong and beautiful,” she reassured him, her fingers continuing to move lightly over his skin. “And you shouldn't give this another thought.”

Her glance strayed over Clark's head to Janik, who had admitted to removing the finger and she was pleased to see him blanch. These doctors might be essential to Clark's recovery, but there was no way she had to approve of them. Though Ducos might have brought Clark some relief, she wasn't about to forgive or forget that they were the cause of his illness in the first place. But she did need to speak with them. She wanted to know everything Clark had gone through, and just what they meant when they said they could reverse the situation.

However, Lois doubted Clark was ready to hear a blow by blow account of his torture. His eyes were closed, his lashes brushing his heavily shadowed cheek bones, but his breathing sounded easier and his hands lay loosely in hers. There was little doubt in her mind that his pain had lessened. Perhaps now would be a good time for that all important discussion with the doctors, but she'd already promised Clark she would stay with him.

“Letour,” she whispered, and felt her heart lighten when his eyes opened immediately at the sound of her voice. “I have to go talk to those... to your doctors, but I didn't want to disturb you or leave without letting you know.”

Panic flared in his eyes. “You said you wouldn't go!”

“And I won't. I'm only going outside for a bit.” A mixture of sensations surged through Lois' veins; excitement that her leaving would trouble him so, yet dismay that his nerves appeared to be stretched tight as a drum. “Would you like Jor-El to stay with you?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her son start to protest and she gave a tiny shake of her head to warn him to be quiet. “Even if you doubt my word, Letour, I can't leave here without Jor-El. I came by superhero airlines and it's a return flight.”

“I would never doubt your word, Lois,” Letour said quickly, settling into the large winged chair, more at ease than he had been in such a long time. “I'd come with you, if your conversation isn't private, of course, but I'm not sure I want to move from this comfy chair, or even if I could.”

“Fine, because you don't have to.” Lois gave his hand a tiny squeeze, afraid to try anything more demonstrative for the present. “Try to sleep for a bit and when you feel better, you and I can have a nice long chat.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled in a laugh. “I've spent most of the time you've been here sleeping, but I would like to get to know you better.”

“I promise, you will. In fact, count on seeing a lot of me in the future.”

“Will you help me?” Letour asked, his eyebrows lifting wearily. Though not totally sure what Lois could do for him, he was willing to place his trust in her.

“Always!”

It was the answer he hadn't known he was seeking. The answer to his prayer that he was no longer alone. His eyes closed and he slept, content at last.

*****

tbc