From last time:
"Hello, little one," she said softly. Thia stood beside the bed as Enza touched her cheek gently. "I am so happy to see you."
Thia started to cry. "I was so scared," she whimpered.
"So was I," Enza replied. "But everything is going to be all right," she promised.
"Does it hurt?" the little girl asked as she regarded her aunt with wide eyes. Enza's face was still covered it bruises and cuts.
"It does," she confirmed. "But I feel much better now that I know you're all right." Enza looked up at Lok Sim, where he was still hanging back by the doorway. She smiled at him and for the first time since the attack, he knew everything was going to be fine.
He walked toward the bed, putting his hand on Thia's shoulder. Enza took his hand once more. Her skin felt so soft and warm against his, so full of life and promises they would get a chance to keep. "I love you," he said.
"I love you," she replied.
*********
New Stuff:
"You're certain?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyes darted back and forth as she scanned the deserted hallway.
"Yes ma'am," the surgeon replied. "He won't regain more than thirty percent of his vision in his left eye."
"So he'll never fly again," Zara said, more to herself than to the doctor.
"I'm afraid that's right," her brother's physician confirmed.
Zara closed her eyes. "Thank you, doctor," she said softly.
"I'm very sorry, ma'am, I wish I had better news," he said earnestly.
"I appreciate your sympathies, and shall pass them along to my family," she replied absently.
"If you will excuse me, ma'am, I must continue with my rounds." He bowed slightly.
"Of course," she said. Zara couldn't help but envision in her mind's eye the image of her younger brother, lying in a hospital bed, half his face covered in blistered burns. He was barely more than a boy and his life had changed forever. As long as she could remember, Dek Ra wanted to be a pilot. It was all he wanted. He wanted to fly. She'd never told him that on Earth, she'd flown under her own power, breaking the bonds of gravity to float among the clouds and see the place in the distance where the edge of the world curved beyond sight.
The only thing he wanted, the only thing he'd wanted to be, had been taken away from him.
Her disquiet thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footfalls coming from the other end of the corridor. She looked up to see the general commander approaching.
"Good evening, ma'am," Talan said with a bow.
"Good evening, commander," Zara replied. She stepped in front of the other woman to prevent her from passing. "How did you know where he would be?" she asked abruptly, giving voice to a thought that had been bothering her the entire day. Subconsciously, she sized up the other woman, wondering what gave her such perceptiveness, such insight into Clark's soul.
"I know what he's going through," Talan said simply, invoking an unwanted strand that connected the commander to Kal El. For the longest time, she'd wondered, in passing thoughts and partially formed musings, how to define the relationship between those two, eventually deciding that it did not concern her. But she'd seen it in Clark's eyes; the only thing that made him smile, the only times he was happy was when he spoke of Lois. He certainly wasn't carrying on an affair with another woman. No matter how lonely or alienated he seemed, he loved the one he'd left behind too much.
"Is there anything else, ma'am?" the commander asked politely, causing Zara to realize that she'd been standing silently for long moments.
"No," she replied with a curt shake of her head. "Thank you."
********
A foreboding sense of trepidation settled over her as she walked into her therapist's office. She'd thought this over calmly and rationally and she'd convinced herself. Or at least, she thought she'd convinced herself. Well, whatever, she wasn't going to let Dr. Friskin talk her out of this with rational arguments.
"Ultrawoman, how are you?" the kindly doctor asked as she stood up from her desk.
"Fine," she replied reflexively. "But I've been doing a lot of thinking…about our sessions and what we've worked through."
Dr. Friskin gestured toward the couch. "Please, continue."
Lois sat down, fidgeting with the edges of her cape. "You've helped me make sense of a lot of things that seemed senseless. I mean, I'm not sure I'd be functioning if it weren't for these sessions."
"You've done this on your own, I just helped you talk through a few things," her therapist demurred.
She dropped her cape and folded her hands in her lap. "What I'm trying to say is, I think I'm ready to do the rest of this on my own…"
"I agree…"
"I know you might not think that's such a good idea…what?" Lois blinked, certain she'd heard wrong. "I'm sorry, could you say that again?"
"I said, 'I agree,'" Dr. Friskin repeated patiently. "I think we've accomplished what we set out to do. I know there are things you haven't told me about, very big things that you're not comfortable discussing." Wasn't that the truth? Lois mused ruefully to herself. "But if you're opening up to your family and your friends more, I think you can handle this without professional help."
"You really think so?" Lois heard herself say.
Dr. Friskin regarded her thoughtfully. "Why does that surprise you?"
"I dunno, I guess everyone wants to feel needed, including shrinks…I know, I'm distancing."
"Ultrawoman, I know that you've been holding things back, and it makes you feel guilty. You want to be candid with me, but you don't think you can be…"
"Believe me, it's not because I don't trust you. It's just, some of these things…aren't mine to share, really," Lois rushed to explain.
"But that still leaves us at an impasse – the big, scary issues you're facing aren't the ones I can help you with. Is there someone you can talk to about these things?"
"There is," Lois confirmed, nodding her head. She didn't say that she actually was talking about everything that was bothering her, but she was still building up to that point – it was a work in progress.
"Then I think we don't need to meet regularly, anymore," Dr. Friskin concluded. "I'm always here in the event there's something you want to discuss. We can have a session if you need to talk and if not, so much the better."
"Okay, then," Lois agreed, standing up swiftly.
"There's just one thing. I want you to make sure that you are actually talking to someone about whatever it is that's still bothering you. A good friend, family, anyone who you think can be supportive and understanding. You have to keep building back up those relationships you've allowed to weaken. Pushing away the people who care about you won't keep them or you from getting hurt." Dr. Friskin's tone was kind, yet firm.
"I know," Lois replied quietly. "Thank you for everything, doctor."
"It's been my pleasure."
********
Talan pulled the simple, black greatcoat over her dress uniform. She wore none of the designations of her rank, none of the commendations of her many achievements, or the silver cloak she was entitled to don as a member of the Order of the Guardians. She looked, for all intents and purposes, like a simple soldier. She walked the long distance to the transport, through deserted corridors, meeting not a single soul along the way. The ride in the transport, too, passed in silence. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon when she stepped off the transport, the sky still a deep violet. She walked toward the barracks in the harsh wind, holding the edges of her greatcoat together. Talan kept her head bent down, her strides long and even.
The barracks door was opened for her as she approached. Inside, the young soldier on guard duty saluted. At the back of the compound, in a darkened room, was Faral's coffin. She turned on the lights, staring silently for a moment at the casket that contained her faithful sergeant's body. With slow steps that echoed loudly, she approached the coffin and laid her hand against its cold, polished metal surface. Inside the sterile box was all that was left of a brave and decent man. An honorable and loyal comrade. A devoted husband and doting father. He'd spent years away from his family, following her into every battle, carrying out every command, when he should have been with his daughters.
"Goodbye, old friend," she murmured. "Your work is done and your world is safe. I only wish you could have lived to see the end of this journey. You carried me so far. Let me carry you the rest of the way."
The double doors behind her opened and the remainder of the guard entered – four enlisted men, all at least as tall as she was, followed by Lok Sim, their commander. "It's time, ma'am," the lieutenant explained softly.
She nodded silently as they took their positions around the casket, Lok Sim at the head of the guard, she at its end. "Ready," he said, his tone clear and strong. Each soldier gripped a handle. "Up," Lok Sim commanded. They lifted the coffin up onto their shoulders, steadying it with both hands, bearing its heavy weight upon their bodies. At the tapered end of the coffin, Talan and the soldier across from her braced their burden as they wrapped an arm around each other's shoulders to support it.
"Commander, would you call the cadence?" Lok Sim requested.
"It is a long road, gentlemen," she said, trying to find her voice, to keep it even and clear when it wanted to falter and fail on her. "Take small steps." As one, they began their long, solemn march, carrying a fallen warrior to the earth he had defended and would now reclaim him.
********
Enza opened her eyes slowly. Everything, every fiber and muscle, tendon, ligament, and bone seemed to ache and burn with pain. "Good morning, my young friend," Tao Scion said, in that cheerful voice of his.
"Morning," she managed, her eyes not yet able to focus. Slowly, the room and its contents became clear. Fuzzy, indistinct shapes grew solid and sharp. She saw her doctor smiling as he leaned over her, lifting a light to shine it into each of her eyes. Enza winced slightly, but followed his patient instructions to follow the light.
"Good," he declared. "Now how are you feeling this morning?"
"Lucky to be alive, but otherwise, everything hurts. I'm guessing by the brace that I broke my arm," she said, nodding toward her immobilized arm.
"Quite badly, in fact," Tao Scion confirmed. "Your surgeons had to insert a steel rod to stabilize it. You'll need another surgery in about a year to remove it."
"My leg feels even worse," she said with a wince. From the knee downward, her right leg felt like it was being crushed and burned both at once. "How bad is it?"
He sat down in the chair beside her bed, regarding her with his soft, blue eyes. A look of deep sympathy settled onto his expression as he covered her uninjured hand with his. His hand was warm, the blue veins distinctly visible under his wrinkled, translucent skin. "I'm sorry, Enza," he began. Her heart sank, knowing the news could be nothing but terrible. "The surgeons had to amputate, below the knee…" She struggled to sit up, unbelieving the words. They didn't make any sense. She could still feel the excruciating pain. If she could just sit up, she'd see that her leg was still there. Her arm seemed to split apart as she jostled it accidentally in her awkward attempt to move. Tao Scion laid a hand on her uninjured shoulder. "Lie back," he counseled gently. He continued talking, but she didn't understand a word of it. The sound of his voice blurred into background noise as her eyes filled with tears. She blinked them away and stared up at the ceiling, crestfallen. The whole room and the world beyond it faded away until there was nothing left except the pain in the leg that wasn't there anymore.
********
Clark dressed slowly, glad to finally be out of the hospital. The First Ministers' compound was largely deserted. Zara and Ching were busy attending to the colony's work. Enza was still hospitalized, recovering from gruesome injuries that would never really heal. A new pair of guards waited outside his quarters – replacements for Lieutenants Parth and Rul. Parth had been buried the day before. Rul was only now beginning to move about on crutches. The faces that had become so familiar over the last few years were all absent now.
Was this how he was expected to spend the next month? Was he supposed to wander about shiftless, waiting for the time to pass?
He tried to keep himself occupied, if for no other reason than his mind was starting to piece together the events around his shooting Nor. He remembered getting shot in the arm as he was evacuating the last shelter. And he remembered racing down a corridor to draw Nor's fire. But the last thing he could recall, the last sound, and feeling was the blast of Nor's weapon, the fire tearing into his back. Then there was nothing. Clark had no choice but to fill the blanks in in his own mind. How did he get from that spot, falling under the force of that shot, to killing Nor? What had been going through his mind? Had it been fear? Panic?
Or was it rage?
Had he killed Nor because he'd had no choice, just like everyone kept repeating in their soft, sympathetic tones? Or had he killed Nor because he wanted to? Because he'd wanted Nor to die? Because he'd needed vengeance? Ugly, cold, brutal vengeance.
Clark began to wonder if it mattered. Didn't he admit, back there in the morgue that he wanted Nor dead? What difference did it make what had gone on in his head in the seconds surrounding Nor's demise. Nothing changed the fact that he'd done the one thing he'd swore he would never do here. He'd told Ching, all those years ago, that he was not prepared to kill. That he would not kill. But perhaps that had been a different man speaking. A man who still had some shred of innocence in him. A man who still believed that it was possible to stay good, in the face of so much evil. A man who had believed himself to be decent and honorable and strong in character.
That man didn't exist anymore. He couldn't exist. Not after this war, not after the six weeks he'd spent being tortured, not after the chaos and destruction of the last battle, and not after Nor's death.
********
The sound of the door opening woke her up. She opened her eyes as she turned toward the doorway, watching as her husband stepped into the room. Enza tried to smile at him. "Look at you," she murmured drowsily. He glanced down at himself; he cut a dashing figure standing in front of her in full officer's dress.
Lok Sim smiled almost sheepishly at her. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft.
She couldn't help the tears that flooded her eyes, aware that the expression on her face told him that she knew everything. In a heartbeat, he was holding her hand, kneeling beside her bed. His own eyes were suspiciously bright. "I'm so sorry," he whispered hoarsely. She could feel his hand trembling.
Enza swallowed roughly. "You saved my life," she managed, her voice thick with emotion. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
Her husband shook his head. "I should have gotten there sooner. I should have stopped Sur Ahn before all of it started." She could see the tears streaming down his face. Shaking, she lifted his hand to her lips and held it there. He caressed her cheek, his touch feather light.
"This was not your fault," she whispered fiercely, needing him to understand the truth of what she was saying. "I love you."
"I love you," he replied tearfully. "I love you so much. Everything is going to be all right."
She felt tears slip down her cheeks as she nodded. "I know," she said. "I have you."
"Always," he said softly.
********
"Congratulations, Madam Speaker," Zara said as she continued walking through the corridor. "I wish it were under better circumstances."
"Shai was a good friend and a wonderful leader," Dural confirmed sadly. "I will miss his counsel and his wisdom."
"As will we all," Zara replied.
"Are any of the Star Runners operational?"
"No." Zara shook her head. "Their navigational and hyperlight systems were all infected by the computer virus Rae Et let loose. It will take at least a few months to repair them." The Chief of Air Command had informed her of the problem. They would have no choice but to send Clark home in a capsule, instead. Waiting for the repairs was out of the question; this world had taken enough of a toll, in months and years, tears and blood, from him. Perhaps it was for the best; he would sleep through the months' long journey and they'd pass as though in an instant for him. He'd be back at home with the woman he loved and the family that had taken care of him his entire life.
"Ma'am, if I might ask, what is to be done about the issue of succession?"
Zara stopped and turned. "What about it?"
"With Kal El injured and his departure delayed, and with the change in the Council leadership…" Dural began.
"The plans will not change. Kal El will remain the First Minister until he leaves, at that point, Ching will succeed him," Zara replied, cutting off that subject of discussion immediately. "Is there anything else?"
The newly selected Speaker began enumerating issues of grave concern before the Council as they continued through the administrative compound.
********
"Commander," Kal El said somewhat curtly as he stood up. She bowed before crossing the large reception room toward him.
"You look well, sir," she replied in greeting. Talan sat down across from him.
"Congratulations on the promotion," he said.
"Thank you," she said. She hesitated before continuing. "We haven't had much of an opportunity to speak in the last few weeks."
"I figured you were busy with the new assignment." His tone was noncommittal.
"I've left several messages for you, sir," she pressed. "I wanted to know if everything was all right. After what happened with Nor…"
"What happened is that I shot him," he replied sharply. "There's no need for euphemisms."
"Sir, I don't know if there's anything else I can say to convince you that you did the right thing."
Kal El leaned forward in his chair, his expression earnest. "What if I did the right thing, for the wrong reason?" he asked, his tone suddenly softer.
"I was there, sir. I saw everything. You didn't fire out of malice. There was no vengeance in your expression; you fired because you had to."
"You don't know what was going on in my mind…"
"With all due respect, sir, neither do you. You don't remember what happened and now you refuse to believe you could have done the right thing."
"And you refuse to believe I didn't." The edge to his voice let her know that she'd pushed too hard. He was upset, full of doubt, and she pushed him. "What if I gave in? What if the darkness in me won?"
"I don't believe it did," she said softly. She wanted to elaborate, but how could she? What could she say? 'I was there, when both of us thought you were breathing your last breath. I saw the look on your face as I held you in my arms and the only thing I saw there was relief that you had done your job and protected your people.'
He laughed humorlessly. "Maybe it didn't. Maybe I only killed Nor to keep him from hurting anyone else. And maybe I did it because I figured that if I was going to die, I'd take the bastard to hell with me."
His words stung, piercing her skin like shrapnel. "Believe me, sir, I know how taking a life tears at you."
"Don't patronize me!" he shouted suddenly. "Don't assume that because you're an old hand at killing people and I'm not, that you know everything about me. That you can lead me out of the darkness and save me."
"I am so sorry," she began to backpedal, completely uncertain what she should say. What he was saying to her was so brutal and unkind – so unlike him, and yet, she couldn't even consider the pain these words were meant to inflict. Instead, she focused entirely on just how quickly years of friendship and trust were crumbling. Her eyes darted downward to where he held his hand against his thigh, balled up in a fist. It was shaking almost violently.
"You've built up this heroic image," he continued. His voice sounded calm, but she could tell that he was using every bit of self control to keep his rage in check. "And you can't stand the fact that maybe I won't live up to it. Maybe I'm not as strong as you need me to be."
Her throat constricted and she swallowed roughly. "It seems my coming here has caused nothing but an argument. If you don't need anything of me, sir, I'll go."
"I think that's best," he replied coldly.
Talan stood up. Ignoring the feeling like she'd been kicked in the gut, she drew herself to her full height and saluted. She walked out with calm, measured strides, but in reality, she was running away.
********
He gently pushed open the door to his wife's room and peered inside. She turned her head to look at him and smiled from where she was sitting propped up in bed, a digital tablet in her hand. Of course she'd be working; she never managed to stop.
"I thought you were supposed to be resting," he chastised her mildly, unable to help the smile that turned up the corners of his mouth. It hadn't been a particularly pleasant day, but the look on her face told him how genuinely happy she was that he was there. How could he not immediately feel better?
She arched a brow at him. "Do you have any idea how boring it is to sit in bed all day, every day for weeks?" Setting aside the tablet, she reached out her good hand toward him. Her right arm would still be in a brace for many weeks to come and she'd been forced to adjust to doing everything left-handed in the interim.
He crossed the small room and took her outstretched hand in his much larger one. "Actually, that doesn't sound like such a terrible proposition at the moment," he teased. Her hand slipped from his as she maneuvered to inch away from the top of the bed. "Careful, love," he heard himself say. "What are you doing?"
"Making room for you," she said simply. "Come here."
"Are you sure?" he asked, his tone hesitant, even to his own ears.
"I'm suggesting we sit, not...spar," she replied with a note of amusement in her voice. "I'll be fine."
He vacillated for a long moment. For weeks now, he'd barely done more than hold her hand. He wanted to hold her, he needed to hold her. But he wasn't about to do anything that might have the slightest chance of aggravating her already severe injuries. "The moment this hurts, or feels uncomfortable at all, you'll tell me?"
"Of course," she assured him.
He removed his boots and ever so cautiously, sat down behind her on the bed, stretching his legs out on either side of her. She leaned back against him as he slipped his arms around her waist. Awkwardly, she moved her right arm, bent at the elbow and completely immobilized in its brace, so as not to pin his arm against her. Lok Sim lowered his head to kiss her shoulder and listened as she sighed contentedly. He couldn't believe how much he missed this - the feel of her body against his, the softness of her hair under his cheek as he gently rested his head against hers. The weeks had stretched out like ages and he'd grown too afraid to wonder how long it would be before he'd know the feeling again. She placed her left hand on his, knotting their fingers together.
"That's better," she murmured.
"Much," he agreed softly.
For a long moment, neither moved nor spoke. They simply enjoyed each other's quiet companionship, indulging in something both had feared would never again be possible.
"I love you," he whispered in her ear.
"I love you," she replied, lifting his hand to her lips.
There was a short knock at the door before it opened and Tao Scion stepped inside. "How is the patient this evening?" Lok Sim felt his body go rigid with surprise as the intimate moment was shattered. The doctor looked up from his notes. "Don't bother getting up, young man," Tao Scion said cheerfully. "I'm just here to see how your wife is feeling. I'll be gone in a moment. Besides, there's little room in a hospital for formality and distance."
The kindly physician turned back to his notes. "Any pain or numbness in your arm?" he asked.
"No," Enza replied.
"And your leg?"
"It hurts less," she confirmed.
"Good. It seems like you're feeling better today," Tao Scion said.
"I am." Enza placed her hand on her husband's, where it rested against her stomach. She gently brushed the back of his hand distractingly with the tips of her fingers.
"Wonderful. I'll be back later to check on those bandages." With that, the old doctor left, silently closing the door behind him.
"Maybe I should let you get some rest," he murmured, closing his eyes.
"You're not going anywhere," she replied, stifling a yawn.
"See? You're exhausted," he countered.
"Tell me the story of Revan and Sirin," she whispered.
"Now?" he asked, surprised. "Why?"
"Because I love the sound of your voice, but I'm too exhausted to hold up my end of a conversation."
He smiled as he kissed her temple. The poem came back to him, the rhythm of the lines and verses flooding his memory. He picked up the threads of the characters and events, weaving them together into the story's tapestry. Lok Sim tried to let the familiar tale cascade over him, washing away the day and its trials. But the words started to trip over his tongue; he faltered and the meter got away from him.
"What's wrong?" she asked him sleepily.
"Nothing," he said.
"Liar," she replied.
"It's nothing," Lok Sim insisted.
"I'm half asleep and drugged on painkillers, and I can still tell that you're lying."
He smiled against the crown of her hair and dropped a kiss there. "A joint military civilian inquest was called to investigate the attack. I have to testify in a few days," he tried to keep his voice even and calm, though the very thought terrified him. He wasn't going to be able to hide from the things he'd done and what he hadn't done. His failures, his shortcomings would all be laid out. He didn't care what it did to him, but what about his family? What would they endure?
"It'll be all right," she murmured. "You stopped Sur Ahn."
"I should have figured it out sooner," he replied instinctively.
"I'm the one who told you to change strategies. If you hadn't listened to me, you would have figured it out long before. If anything, this is all my fault."
"You know that's not true," he replied, his tone strident.
"Because there was nothing to find," she said. "Sur Ahn didn't make any mistakes. She didn't leave a trail."
He closed his eyes. "You're right," he admitted.
"Of course I am. No one could have done more than you did. People are alive today because of you, me included."
Lok Sim sighed. "I want to believe that."
"You saved my life," she said as she squeezed his hand. "You stopped the attack. Believe me, the inquest will recognize that. You're mad at yourself because you didn't do the impossible. You wish you could go back and do things differently. If you only knew then what you know now, you could have saved all of those other people. I know what that's like. And I know how hard it is to keep yourself from feeling that way. But you did everything you could; you can't ask any more of yourself."
"I know," he whispered. And he knew that she was right and that she understood the grief and the regret tearing at him. But it wasn't enough to cut through the thick and cloying guilt wrapped tightly around him.
"We're going to get through this together," she said softly.
"We are," he agreed.
She turned her head to seal the promise with a kiss. Lok Sim closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of her lips against his. He withdrew ever so slightly. "I love you," he murmured, trying not to think of the inquest.
"I love you," she replied.
*********
Lok Sim drew in a shaky breath as he stood before the inquest panel. Three women and two men sat staring down at him, their faces grim. "First Lieutenant Lok Sim, you have been called to give evidence to this tribunal on the events leading up to and including the attacks on the main colony by Nor's followers," the head of the panel intoned. Lok Sim tried to focus and stay calm. He looked straight ahead, his square jaw grimly set, as the head of the panel continued to speak. "You understand that you are under oath, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir," Lok Sim replied, swallowing roughly. He felt a cold sweat break out on his skin. The lights in the examination room suddenly seemed too intense.
"Good, let's begin with your investigation prior to the attacks," one of the panelists said, looking down at the table in front of her.
********
Tao Scion looked up from the monitors as she stepped into the gymnasium. Clark continued to stare straight ahead, not acknowledging her presence, if it even registered with him. He ran on the treadmill, his body moving gracefully, even as he breathed hard from the exertion. He lifted one hand to wipe the perspiration from his brow. His entire upper body was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Monitoring leads placed on his arms and chest took measurements which the old doctor seemed to study intently. He was a bit leaner and paler than he had been when they'd first met him. Four years of living on New Krypton, with its weak sun and harsh conditions, had taken a distinct toll. Of course, far more obvious were the numerous scars that marred his body; large and dark, they stood out prominently against his fair skin.
"How are you feeling?" Zara asked.
He nodded toward her. "Better," he said curtly.
"I think that's enough for today," Tao Scion announced as he gradually turned off the treadmill.
Clark slowed his pace to a walk before stepping off. He grabbed a nearby towel to wipe away the sweat and began to pull off the leads.
"I can't believe you were shot only a month ago," Zara said incredulously.
"He won't let me off the planet until I can run five miles," he replied, nodding toward his physician.
"Space travel is extremely brutal on the body," Tao Scion countered. "Especially since the flight capsule won't simulate gravity."
"I'll be asleep for four months, how brutal can it be?" Clark asked.
"You'll lose bone density, suffer muscle atrophy and orthostatic imbalance, and the drop in blood volume and blood pressure will prevent your injuries from healing. It is not going to be a pleasant little nap. If you're not strong enough, you could suffer serious physical harm. But the good news is you're making excellent progress. I suspect you'll be ready to go in about a week."
Zara expected to see a look of relief on Clark's face. Instead, his expression was unreadable. She regarded him quizzically, causing him to turn away from her. "Was there something you needed?" he asked.
"Just a few final issues to address with the Council leaders, and Ching was hoping to speak with you this evening."
"I just need half an hour," he replied non-commitally.
"Of course," she said as she started to back away. In the interim, she had time to visit her brother, who would just be finishing his own session with his physical therapist.
********
Clark watched Zara walk away, feeling oddly numb. "I would have assumed you'd be in a better mood," Tao Scion said casually.
"What do you mean?" Clark replied. He regarded the physician through narrowed eyes as he pulled his shirt back on. He lifted the chain he'd hidden under his neatly folded shirt and put it back on.
"You're finally going home, and yet, you do not seem particularly happy. What troubles you, young man?" The look in the other man's eyes was so earnest, Clark couldn't help but look away.
"Nothing," he mumbled. Clark dragged a hand through his hair unconsciously. It was only as he lowered his hand that he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that it was trembling. He clenched his fist to make it stop.
"I'd really rather you didn't lie to me," Tao Scion chastised him sternly. "It took you so long the first time to find your way back out of the darkness and I can tell you're descending again. You don't have to deal with this alone."
"You have no idea what I'm dealing with," Clark heard himself reply, his tone soft, but still grave.
"Of course I don't, because you won't tell me and you won't tell anyone else," the older man retorted.
"I just need to get through the next week," Clark whispered, wondering who he was trying to convince.
"Do you think this won't follow you home? Do you think you can just leave everything about this place behind when you leave? You cannot run from the past, Kal El. And if you think you can hide from the things that haunt you, you are terribly mistaken."
Clark looked down at the ground. "Before I came here, I knew who I was. I knew what I believed, what lines I wouldn't cross."
"The measure of a person isn't just what he believes, but what he's willing to sacrifice. You weren't the one who put Nor in that hallway or put the gun in his hand. Nor's death is no one's fault but Nor's. I know it's easy for me to say that, I wasn't there. I've never had to do what you've done, but I could not respect you more for it. You've put others above yourself in everything you've done. You are the man your parents hoped you would be, even though they never would have wanted you to endure all of this. But it doesn't matter that I believe these things, if you don't."
Clark said nothing, unsurprised that yet again, another friend, another person he respected, thought that the turmoil and anguish tearing him apart at the seams, stemmed from simple guilt over having killed Nor. What would they think of him if they knew the truth? He couldn't do that to Tao Scion. The older man would be heartbroken to know that his friends' son was not the noble man Tao Scion thought he was. He finally looked up to meet the doctor's sympathetic gaze. "I'm going to be late," Clark said simply before turning to walk away.
********
"Jon's going to be so excited to see you," Lois said as she placed Jimmy on his feet.
"Does he remember me?"
"How could he forget the uncle who got him all the dump trucks for his birthday?" Lois asked with a smile. She spun out of the suit and back into her normal clothes.
Jimmy shook his head. "You know, I'm never going to get used to that."
She held open the screen door for her young friend as they entered the farmhouse. They were immediately greeted by the sound of little footsteps rushing down the steps. "Careful," Lois said to her pint-sized superhero as he bounded toward them, the red cape Martha had made for him was tied around his neck, his blue and red Superman underwear were on the outside of his jeans. Lois had no idea what the swimming goggles were for, but they looked adorable on him. Any other mother would have thought nothing of her little boy dressing up like Superman. It was a child's game and nothing out of the ordinary. Superman cartoons were still popular on Saturday mornings and what little boy didn't pretend he was a flying superhero? Yet, how could she not feel the sting of irony, watching her son pretending to be Superman?
"Hi Mommy!" Jon said cheerfully.
"Did you say hi to Uncle Jimmy?" she asked.
"Hey, hey, Little J, what do you say?" Jimmy said with a grin as he leaned down to give Jon a high five.
Jon leaned back to wind up and give Jimmy the biggest high five he could. "Hi, Unca Jimmy!" he exclaimed.
"Whoa!" Jimmy said as he stumbled back, still smiling. "You're pretty strong, little guy."
Jon tugged on Jimmy's arm and whispered in his ear. "I'm Superman!"
"Wow. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, not even your mom," Jimmy promised.
"Mommy knows," Jon said.
"All right, Superman, let's go make lunch," Lois said. Her little boy stretched his arms out over his head and she lifted him up so he could 'fly' to the kitchen.
