I'm posting for Jenni, who is out of town today. LaurieD
Chapter Nineteen
And Yet... What's Too Painful To Remember
The first day of Clark's new life with his family had been long, exciting, but very tiring, given the fact that he'd hardly rested since the mudslide. Yet equal measures of joy, adrenalin and rampant curiosity had kept him going. But, finally, the whole family's energy had run down and Lois had persuaded Vicky and Sara to go to bed. The girls had protested a little, but they'd eagerly kissed and hugged both their parents, then gone upstairs. Their exit had been quickly followed by Martha and Jonathan saying a tender, teary goodnight to head for home, promising they'd return early the next day.
Matt had reluctantly gone to patrol the skies of Metropolis, but he'd assured his mother that he'd be quick, intending to leave the care of the city to the police and emergency services during the night. He would only intervene in a life and death situation. Even superheros could exhaust their strength, and Matt realized he was emotionally drained. Lois wasn't completely happy with the compromise, but she trusted her son knew his limitations.
Lois and Clark were left alone, and though she felt they needed to talk, she couldn't ignore the dark shadows that were quarried beneath his eyes, nor the lines of pain that furrowed his forehead. If she was honest, she too was feeling the strain of trying to pretend that the future would be rosy, when, in truth, their future was a minefield and they had only their newly-formed fragile connection to find their way through it.
Clark watched Lois intently as she walked around the living room, absentmindedly tidying away the clutter. Lois had asked Sara to move in with Vicky for the night and Clark had been offered Sara's room. Clearly, Lois wasn't ready to have him return to their bed and he'd felt too unsure of his ground to make any demands.... His body might feel like it had been run over by a truck, yet vague, almost forgotten urges coursed through him... but it was too soon. He refused to offer Lois anything less than his whole self.
Instead, he spent the hours of the night pacing his daughter's bedroom until at last he ventured downstairs searching for something to drink, only to find Lois in the kitchen. Obviously, she, too, had been unable to sleep. Clark halted at the foot of the stairs, debating whether to quietly return to bed or to continue on and confront Lois, but his wife gave him no choice.
She looked up and smiled crookedly. "Couldn't sleep, either? There's some freshly-squeezed juice in the fridge." She held her glass aloft, showing it half-filled with orange liquid. "Or there's still some coffee in the machine, though I guess it's a bit old by now."
Clark moved into the centre of the room. "Actually, water will do." He glanced around at the cupboards, unclear where to find a glass.
Lois stood up and fetched him both glass and water, then placed it before him on the counter. Clark's hand toyed with the glass. He lifted it to his lips and took a very small sip. "To tell the truth, needing a drink was just an excuse. I was just too... restless to stay in the room."
"I knew it! The room's too small. It reminds you of something horrible from your past.... I should have thought of that." Lois' hands tapped nervously on the table top. "Clark, I'm sorry...."
"Lois, no! That's not it at all." Clark caught her hands and stilled them. "You've seen the tiny cottage I lived in in Jilin. Sara's room's fine... and Sara should really be sleeping in it. I could always have... one of the couchs. They look pretty comfortable," he ended, pleasantly, though the idea didn't thrill him.
"No, Clark. This is your home too, and I won't have you sleeping in the living room. I should have listened to you years ago. You always wanted to extend into the roof space. Matt has a bedroom up there, but there's enough space for a guest bedroom...."
"Guest bedroom?" Clark's insecurity made his question sound harsher than he meant it to be. "Is that what I've become, Lois? A guest?"
Lois turned her hands in his and lifted them to her face. "No, never. I'm sorry if I've made you feel that way." She brused her lips over the back of his hand. "You're my husband. Even when I believed you dead, I never thought of you in any other way. I still don't."
"And I never meant to make you feel at fault. I'm the one who's crazy here." He gave their joined hands a tiny shake and laughed ruefully. "My body feels like it's in the right place... here with you. It's just my memory that won't play ball."
"Memories are over-rated," Lois stated and moved one of her hands from his grip, to let it rest lightly in the hair at the back of his neck. Under her fingertips she felt Clark shiver. "You know, we probably can't sleep because you aren't in the right place...."
She looked up at Clark from beneath lowered lashes and he thought she'd never appeared more beautiful. "Lois, where is my right place?" he whispered.
"With me," she answered simply, her voice just as quiet.
His eyes glowed darkly in the dimly lit kitchen. "Lois, I don't want to presume...."
"Neither do I, and I'm not suggesting anything more than just being together," Lois explained. She could see desire flicker in the depths of his gaze and the tic in his jaw pulsed beneath his skin, yet the aura of a lost soul still clung to his bearing. "We should take this slowly. Explore how we feel before taking the next step...."
She was leading him towards the stairs and he followed, mesmerized by her beauty, her voice and her love. He agreed with everything she said. When they made love, and he was sure that someday they would, he wanted to have remembered everything about her.
"There's no rush, Clark. We have all the time in the world."
She was still smiling as she opened the door to their room and drew him inside and to the bed. Together they sank down onto its cool, clean surface and soon were resting close together with their arms entangled. They were at peace and, at last, sleep came to claim them.
*****
A few nights later, Clark turned in his narrow bed one more time, stifling a groan and dragging the covers over his head to blot out the murky light of dawn which seeped through the window. He felt utterly worn out and yet, it was so difficult to sleep alone... without Lois.
Since the day of his return, Lois' presence had very quickly become necessary for his comfort, but, for all that, he'd reluctantly agreed to leave the family home, if only temporarily. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.
Dr Klein wanted to run a barrage of tests before allowing Adrienne and Stephan to carry out the surgery which hopefully would lead to his recovery, and Clark had gone along with the suggestion that it would be easier to do these tests if he were here in Metropolis General Hospital. Over the years, Star Labs had expanded its operations and had opened a medical research unit in Metropolis' largest hospital, and it was to this state-of-the-art wing he'd been admitted.
Tomorrow, Dr Janik and Dr Ducos were due to arrive in the city and Bernard Klein wanted to be ready to give their proposed treatment the go ahead, but only if the foreign doctors managed to convince him of their competence. After listening to Lois' account of what had happened to Clark, and seeing the results of the brain scans, Bernie had refused to let them near his friend unless he was sure the two could successfully remove the implants.
Clark, however, hoped the surgery would be carried out as soon as possible. The thought of the complex operation might worry him, but he had lived in this twilight world for too long, so he was prepared to take any risk. The first flush of dizzying elation that his reunion with his family had brought him had dimmed slightly, leaving him frustrated and, at times, almost dejected.
Lois, his parents and, most of all, his children delighted him, but he wished he knew more about each of them. The Kents were a very close knit unit, and though they tried their best to include him in their lives, in his darker moments, he couldn't help but feel he was a stranger.
He loved them. There was no doubt about that, but he wanted to remember the years he'd spent with them; years watching his kids grow into the great youngsters they were today, the time of his own childhood when his parents had taken care of him, and, most of all, he wanted to remember meeting Lois and forging the ties that bound him to her.
He had fallen in love with her again, but he couldn't dismiss the feeling that his relationship with her and with his family had arrived like a gift, all wrapped up and sealed. He should feel grateful, but he wanted so much to unwrap the parcel to see what was inside... to discover how they'd lived and loved before he'd been snatched away.
And he had tried, but every time he attempted to prod his memory to any degree, the dragon awoke, breathing fiery pain. He'd tried to control the agony, and on some occasions he'd actually succeeded, especially when Lois or Martha was there to talk him through an attack, but sometimes Dr Klein... Bernie, he'd been told to call the doctor... had to resort to administering pain medication to him. Clark loathed the fact that he was so weak, and he hated seeing the look of disappointment on the faces of his family, even though they tried so hard to conceal their feelings for his sake.
Mostly, the family were just happy to have him home, and they never ceased to tell him so by words and deeds, but even that had an adverse effect on Clark; they were so good and he believed they deserved more of an effort from him. Yet, he'd been warned not to castigate himself.
What were the words Lois repeated? 'On a long journey, take small steps'. That saying had become their mantra.
She had shown him a globe, which she told him had traveled with him in his space ship all the way from Krypton, his home planet, to Earth. The navigational globe which had brought him safely to Kansas and the only parents he'd ever known... only now he didn't know them. But he was trying not to dwell on depressing thoughts for the moment.
At first the globe had appeared quite unremarkable, just a map of the Earth. Yet when Lois had brought the sphere closer to him, it had begun to glow and its surface transformed into the terrain of another world, while within his head the word Krypton resonated. He'd attempted to focus on Krypton. If he couldn't remember this world, perhaps he could recall his home planet, yet nothing... not even the familiar headaches had stirred.
However, that wasn't surprising, since he'd soon learned, from the amazing holograms of his birth-parents, that he'd been sent away from Krypton as a baby to save his life from the horrifying cataclysm that had destroyed his world.
He'd replayed the holograms a number of times, partly because he found it very difficult to get his head around the fact that he'd begun life on a far off world, and partly because he hoped that the bizarre revelations would trigger the memory of when he'd first watched them as a grownup.
Yet, the messages' only result had been to reinforce Clark's and Lois' determination to prevail. When Jor-El and Lara had been faced with chaos, they hadn't panicked nor thought of giving up. Instead, they'd drawn strength from each other and continued with their task which would eventually save the life of their beloved son.
Lois and Clark would do no less. Without discussion, both had chosen to remember Jor-El's words... 'On a long journey, take small steps', and frequently each would verbalize that homily to the other.
That Clark, at least, was on a long journey, there could be no doubt. A journey back into the light of recognition. And he had made some small steps. There had been a few breakthroughs.
Sometimes, when either Lois, his children or his parents talked to him of the past, fuzzy pictures would flash into his mind, yet he'd never managed to hold onto these dreamlike visions; a pond by a homey wooden farmhouse, a campfire on a deserted island where Lois and he had talked and shared an embrace, a tiny baby in a bassinet in a room that was probably their dining room, a courthouse where the same baby had tried to catch sunbeams while Lois and he sat with hands fast clasped. Those scenes and many others had paraded before his eyes, yet the more he tried to capture them, the further they moved away, and then the dragon would stir....
He just wanted it to be over, which was why he was waiting here in a hospital room for the doctors to arrive.
Clark gave up even the pretense of sleep, switching on the low lighting and raising the top of his bed by means of a control panel fixed to the cabinet by his bed. The light glinted off a pair of glasses that sat on the table top, and he reached over to pick them up, letting his fingers rub over the gilt frames. It had been quite a suprise to discover that Clark Kent had worn glasses when he seemed to have excellent vision, but Lois had explained they'd been part of his disguise, distinguishing the mild mannered reporter from the stoic looking superhero. Glasses, slicked back hair and a gaudy costume had kept the secret of his dual identity for almost twenty years. Frankly, he was amazed, but if it worked then he wasn't about to complain. Mind you, it meant he had to get used to wearing glasses again, but perhaps he could get a new pair. Lois had dug them out from a box in their closet, but his face had thinned down and these were now a little slack.
He popped them on, looking at the room around him and unwittingly triggered another of those flashbacks, and not a pleasant one either.
For some moments, he was transported back to another small room in a laboratory, a memory which sent chills up and down his spine. He shook his head to clear it of the unwanted apparition. Yet the comparison persisted, which wasn't too strange, since he'd managed to work out that this particular memory came from a time after they'd implanted the chips inside his brain. His recall of this period might be hazy, but it did exist.
Of course, his present room had an adjustable bed, even a television, a private restroom... a large window, which Dr Klein insisted should be kept clear of blinds to allow the sunshine in, and most importantly of all... a door which wasn't locked.
This was no prison cell and Bernard, Adrienne and Stephan were intent on helping him return to his former self, though the jury was still out on whether his superpowers would ever return. Bernard was running tests on that particular question along with all the others.
The sun broke through the early cloud cover and streamed through his window, lifting his dark mood, while outside he could hear the staff arriving for the morning shift. Hopefully, that meant that Lois would visit soon on her way to work. Lois' and his family's visits were the highlight of his days and, thankfully, they made sure that he was seldom alone.
And just as Clark had hoped, the door to his room swung open and Lois' head popped round the edge.
“Oh, hi, sweetheart, you are awake. Did you sleep OK?” Clark nodded, not wanting to worry her with his insomnia, while Lois went on. She looked like she was a woman on a mission. “Do you think you're ready for a new visitor?” she asked, holding the door open. Yet without waiting for a reply, she smiled and stood back to let a man enter.
The older man limped in slowly, leaning on a cane. His hair was thinning and the little that was left was gun-metal gray. His eyes were sharp, sparkled by a keen wit and his lined face was split by a large grin as he walked towards the bed. When he spoke, Clark could detect a southern drawl in his deep voice.
“In the name of the King, it's good to see you again, Clark.” The newcomer reached the bed and stretched out his hand to lay it on Clark's shoulder. “You gave us a scare, son. Boy, did you give us a scare!” he said, shaking his large head from side to side, tightening his grip on that shoulder and, all the time, grinning like he was fit to burst.
Clark felt a memory fight its way into his conscience and his voice rushed ahead of his brain. “Elvis?” he asked, breathlessly.
The stranger threw back his head and guffawed with real pleasure at Clark's question and even Lois laughed aloud.
“Not quite, son, not quite. Elvis Presley was the King of Rock and Roll and my hero, but he died some years back. Me, I'm just the Editor of the Daily Planet... or, at least, I was until I had my surgery.” The man knocked his cane against his leg, but not with any great force. “These old joints of mine aren't what they used to be, though they tell me I'll soon be running round like a spring chicken with these replacement hips. Meanwhile, Lois here has been keeping the ship afloat. Actually, she has for the past couple of years... but once I was your Chief. Perry White, Clark, and I'm sure pleased to see you again.”
The stranger stuck out his hand, somewhat gingerly, and Clark took it. “Lois tells me I worked for you for a long time, Mr White. I'm sorry, for getting your name wrong, but I'm sure she's also told you I'm a bit confused.”
Perry shook Clark's hand, a strange tinge of dismay shading his eyes, yet he gave another laugh. Clark decided he liked the sound of that laughter. It was so filled with energy. Clark was sure Mr White had been a great Chief.
“I was a lot more than your boss, Clark. In fact, you and Lois were... I mean, are like my family... and your kids call me Uncle Perry. They sure are great kids.” Perry used his cane to pull up a chair and lowered himself into it carefully. “But, son, you weren't too far out when you guessed I was Elvis. I have this habit of quoting the King, you see. I suppose, over the years, you've listened to more Elvis stories from me than you've had published in the Daily Planet, and that's saying something.” Mr White kept on grinning. “And the name's Perry. You haven't called me Mr White in over twenty years. Oh, and I promise no Elvis stories for the time being. Even I know when they're inappropriate. But, Clark, you have to know that when Lois told me Matt had found you, I was happier than... oh, than I would be if I discovered the King was alive and well and living in Nebraska as a mailman!”
Clark couldn't understand why a famous singer should be hiding away in Nebraska working as a mailman... unless the guy was suffering from amnesia too, but it did seem obvious that Mr Whi... Perry, was thrilled to meet him again.
“Thanks... Perry.” Clark tried out the name and found that it rolled easily of his tongue. He wished that his memory worked as well as his instincts. “I'm pleased to meet you... again. Maybe once I get past this surgery I might even remember why I feel so good about it.”
“This is nice,” Lois said. “But now we've got the reintroductions over we can get down to why I brought Perry here to see you... apart from the fact that he refused to stay away any longer.”
Lois sat on the edge of the bed, and Clark moved over to give her more room. She pushed his rumpled hair back from his forehead, allowing her hand to linger. Then she leaned over and brushed her lips across his. As she drew back, Clark went with her, not wanting to relinquish the glow her kiss aroused in him.
Some seconds later Perry cleared his throat, loudly. “Boy, I swear on my blue suede shoes that it's just like the old days, and I couldn't be more pleased.”
Leaning back, Clark's eyebrows shot up in a silent question as he stared at Lois, but she simply gave a little shake of her head and smiled again. Clark noticed Lois smiled a lot these days and he decided he liked it.
“OK, kids, let's get this show on the road,” Perry said and this time his tone was professional. “We've got to decide what we're gonna print in the Planet....”
“Excuse me?” Clark's head swung round so quickly to look at the newsman that a feeling of wooziness swept through him... or it could have been the feeling of dread that made his head swim. Lois had warned him that a public announcement would have to be made about his reappearance, but he'd hoped it could be postponed until after he'd gotten his memory back.
“Now, Clark, I know that's got to make you feel uneasy, but we really don't have a choice,” Perry's deep voice was soothing, like he was accustomed to smoothing ruffled feathers... a circumstance which was easy for Clark to believe, since Perry had been the Editor-in-Chief of one of the world's most prestigious newspapers. “Lois and I would have liked to have given you more time, but since you've moved out of Hyperion Avenue, there's been some talk. Ralph Pinkerton called the Planet just yesterday, fishing to see if the rumors were true... and if Ralph can winkle it out, then anyone can. Mind you, the guy was always great when it came to uncovering tall stories. He just had difficulty verifying them.”
“It's kind of hard to find proof when most of your sources are blowing smoke!” Lois exclaimed scornfully.
“Who's Ralph?” Clark watched Lois' lips turn down in a grimace.
“A sleazy reporter who worked for the Planet back in the 90s.”
“Now, Lois, the guy did have some talent for sniffing out scandals.” Perry felt he should give credit where it was due.
“Yes, and he didn't care if his 'scandals' were truth or fiction!”Lois retorted.
“I have to agree with you there.” Perry set the end of his cane on the floor between his legs and gripped the top with both hands. “Anyway, Clark, he's now found his niche at the Dirt Digger, and, somehow, he's got word of your return. This time he isn't blowin' smoke.”
“Something tells me that's not good?” Clark's gaze switched between Lois and Perry, and both looked a little worried.
“It's not exactly bad, Clark. We just hoped we'd be able to give you some time to adjust to getting your memory back before you had to face the press. I'm sorry,” Lois commiserated as she let her hand trail down Clark's arm till she could link his fingers with hers.
“Actually, honey, I think the timing might be a good thing,” Perry said, his brows drawing down in concentration. “Clark is still suffering from amnesia, so he can be naturally vague when it comes to questions about Superman. I know how you hate to lie, Clark.”
“I do?” Clark asked, but instinctively knew the answer. “OK, I guess I do. But I also believe the secret of my other identity has to be kept... for the sake of Lois and the rest of the family....”
“And you too, Clark,” Lois said, her hand tightening on his. “You're not super any longer and I can imagine how many criminals might like to take their revenge on you for sending them to prison. You'd be in great danger....”
“No more than you, the kids and my parents, Lois....”
“Whoa! I think we've established that too many people would be in danger,” Perry interrupted, stifling a flush of amusement. He felt like he'd been transported back in time, seeing his kids squabbling over a point, and it gave him a cozy feeling inside. “It's more important to work out what we want to put in this article I'm going to write.”
“You're going to write it, Perry?” Clark asked, sounding surprised. He'd gotten the impression that Perry was largely retired.
“Think the old man isn't up to the job?” Perry asked teasingly. “I wouldn't trust this story to anyone else, except Jimmy, of course. He'll partner me on this one.”
“You mean Jimmy Olsen?” Clark had seen one of his own wedding pictures with himself and a young best man, and Lois had told him that was his closest friend, James Olsen, who was now a reporter for the Planet.
“That's him.” Perry nodded. “He's in New York at the moment covering a UN meeting or he would have been to visit. He'll be heading home later today, so you can expect him to show up any time after that. Wild horses couldn't keep him away. In fact, if he wasn't such a professional, he'd have asked for another reporter to cover the UN story and come rushing back the minute he heard you were home.”
“That's true. I'm sure he was tempted, but he didn't ask. We taught him too well.” Lois nudged Clark's leg with her hip, while she smiled into face.
“OK, I guess I look forward to meeting him.” Clark returned her smile, weakly. Another meeting with another old friend he wouldn't know didn't exactly fill him with confidence, though that was a worry for the future. “But what do we do now, Perry? Do you want to interview me, because I have to tell you I doubt I'll be able to answer many of your questions....” His shoulders slumped a little.
Perry gave Clark's words careful consideration before answering, but when he spoke his voice was firm. “No, I don't think an interview is necessary. The three of us should discuss what's best for the public to know and Jimmy and I will write it up for your approval. Believe me, we won't put anything in there that you or Lois don't want, but I'd rather stick as close to the truth as possible.”
“Facts, plain facts!” Clark mimicked a voice from the past that echoed, unexpectedly, in his head. “Wasn't that what you taught us, Perry?”
“Never you worry about your lack of memory, son, you've still got reporter's blood flowing in your veins,” Perry said on another laugh. “But let's get down to business. I take it you don't have any knowledge of how you were abducted?”
“No, Chief!”
“OK. Then I suggest we just report that you and Superman were kidnapped by a North Korean faction, working outside their government's remit.”
“Perry! No! We put the blame firmly on the North Korean regime. They had to have been behind Superman's abduction.” Lois crossed her arms and set her chin firmly.
“Honey, nothing would please me more if we could. But we have no proof,” Perry said, shaking his head dejectedly, but adamant still. “The Koreans would blame Hyesan and say he was a rogue General, and Clark doesn't remember enough to refute their claim.”
“I remember Hyesan was in charge, but I never saw anyone else... not that I can recall. I doubt any of the Committee ever came to the bunker.”
“What about Janik and Ducos?” Lois questioned belligerently, unwilling to allow the abduction of her husband to go unpunished. “They could corroborate Clark's testimony.”
Perry cocked his head to the side and regarded Lois thoughtfully. “You sure you really want to go down that road, honey? You told me Hyesan's dead. Geez, the Koreans can even claim they executed him for his crimes, which would leave these two doctors in the frame. They could even be charged by the International Court of Human Rights with kidnapping and Superman's murder.”
“No! I don't care what anyone else thinks, I can't let that happen,” Clark forced himself up in the bed, staring challengingly at Lois. “Lois, I know you're angry about what happened to me... God knows, I am too. But if it hadn't been for Adrienne and Stephan risking everything, I'd be dead, and they kept Hyesan from coming after me. Corporal Teo too, and he's still in North Korea.” Clark lifted a hand to smooth Lois' screen of hair, hoping he could also smooth her justifiable anger. “He wasn't like the other soldiers. Teo looked after me and if he hadn't joined Adrienne and Stephan, I doubt they'd ever have gotten me out. Actually, I dread to think what might happen to him when the Koreans discover I'm still alive.”
“Actually, I wouldn't worry too much about that. I hate to hurt your feelings, son, but to those high mucky-mucks in North Korea, Clark Kent is pretty small fry.” Perry said, shifting his weight in his chair. “I doubt they'll give you a second thought.
“Won't they be suspicious, Perry?” Lois asked. She'd been having a few sleepless nights over that particular worry since Clark had moved into the hospital. The idea that the North Korean regime might guess Clark's dual identity was not one she liked to contemplate.
“Why? We announced right from the beginning that two men went missing. They didn't question it back then, and if Hyesan was as secretive as I'm assuming, hell, maybe they even believed it,” Perry suggested with a snort. “Hyesan is long gone, and if no one points the finger at them, then I'd bet a lifelong pass to Graceland that the Koreans are willing to forget the whole debacle. But these are all good reasons why we should try to keep the doctors and this Teo out of the story.”
Lois touched Clark's cheek as she watched him visibly relax. “I understand how you feel, Clark, but don't expect me to think too kindly of your friends, though if they can make you well, I might be prepared to forgive them... in time.”
“That's all I ask, Lois.” Clark turned his head and placed a kiss on Lois' open palm and for a second or two all their immediate problems fell away... but Lois couldn't be distracted for long.
“OK, but does anyone have any idea how we're going to explain Dr Ducos and Dr Janik's presence in Metropolis?”
“Say they're colleagues of Dr Klein and he called them in because they're experts on the type of brain damage Clark suffered at the hands of his kidnappers.” Perry offered a further explanation. “And if anyone does find out they were in North Korea... well we can cross that bridge when we come to it....”
Lois sat up straighter, prepared to protest, but she was interrupted when the doctor in question walked into the room.
“Oh, Perry, I'm glad you're here,” Bernie said as he closed in on the group around the bed. “Good morning, everyone. Did you sleep well, Clark?”
“Not too badly,” Clark replied, remembering his resolve to keep his lack of sleep from Lois, but seeing an opportunity to make a break for home. He offered Dr Klein one of his most persuasive smiles. “I don't want to appear ungrateful, Doctor, but I think I'd prefer to be an outpatient.”
“Oh, yeah! Can't abide hospitals either,” Bernie agreed, but all the while he was fidgeting with a file he held in his hands. “But I really need you here longer. There are still one or two things I'd like to check out... but, Perry, you were right on when you mentioned Clark's brain damage....”
“Clark has brain damage?” Lois almost jumped off the bed to confront Bernard, who took a couple of backward steps in self-preservation.
“Lois, he has amnesia,” Bernie said reasonably, while trying to regain his balance. “Do you know, total amnesia like Clark's is undocumented in any medical journal I've ever read, and very hard to achieve, I'd say. From what I've been able to work out from the lab work I've done on your samples, Clark, they used a combination of implants and drugs for the control of psychosis... experimental drugs, I'd surmise.”
“Bernard, we already know all that. Adrienne explained,” Lois said impatiently, though her expression was stark with horror. “But brain damage... that sounds so permanent.”
“I didn't say it was permanent,” Bernie gave a small apologetic smile. “But to tell the truth, I can't be certain. You see, the Koreans got lucky... though I guess it wasn't so lucky for Clark....”
“Bernard!” Lois almost stamped her foot and she appeared ready to wring the poor doctor's thin neck .
“Lois,” Clark said quietly, placing a warning hand on her arm. “Getting annoyed with Dr Klein won't help. Please, Bernard, could you explain what that means. I'd really appreciate knowing the prognosis, no matter how bad.”
Bernie swallowed hard and quickly tried to make amends for his blundering remark. “The prognosis isn't necessarily bad. Clark, it's my opinion that you suffered a complete memory black out due to a synergistic relationship between the kryptonite and the drugs they gave you....”
“What does that mean in English?” Lois demanded. She always hated when Bernard forgot that normal people didn't understand his scientific jargon.
“Sorry!” Bernie shrugged and blushed red, till his skin tone almost matched the spots on his snazzy bow- tie. “The kryptonite and the drugs reacted badly. I'm surprised you didn't spend that time in the bunker in a catatonic state.”
Clark shivered. “I suppose I wasn't much more than a zombie. I certainly can't remember much about it. Mostly, my memories begin again after I was freed.”
“That would fit my theory. Once the drugs were out of your system, you began to function more normally, but without your memories. At least, I do expect your memory to improve once those chips are removed....”
“That sounds like you don't expect my memory to return completely?” Clark slumped back in the bed. His face was blanched white and the light seemed to dim behind his eyes.
“Not immediately, no.” Bernie gave his verdict quietly, realizing this was not the news Clark wanted to hear. “But that doesn't mean it won't return in time. I really can't say for sure. Clark, your physiology has always had the remarkable ability to repair itself, but from the tests I've run, I think that long term exposure to the small amounts of kryptonite within your brain have damaged the gene which allows you to process yellow sunlight into superpowers.”
“Is that damage permanent?” Lois asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.
“I believe so,” Bernie answered plainly. “But there's no reason why Clark shouldn't reach the levels of a normal healthy human being... perhaps even a little more. And I do believe that once the chips are removed, his brain could possibly repair itself. Even a human brain can reroute connections around damaged areas, and Clark always used a greater percentage of his brain cells than any human.” Bernard smiled at both Lois and Clark. “I'd like to get a second opinion, of course, from these doctors who're on their way here, but I really am confident that Clark can recover.”
“But not Superman?” Strangely that question came from Perry.
“Superman?” The seconds stretched out apparently endlessly while Bernard contemplated the possibility. Finally, he spoke with a sigh. “I'm sorry. I can't give you a definitive answer, but after all this time, the likelihood seems pretty remote.”
The room and the two men faded from Lois' and Clark's awareness as their hands sought the comfort of the other's grasp. Perhaps both had known this sad truth. 'On a long journey, take small steps.' Perhaps some destinations would always be out of reach.
*****
tbc
