Last time:
Clark
I carried him over to his bed and laid him on it, pulling his covers over him. I kissed his forehead. "Sleep tight. Love you."
"Wuv you. Te' Mommy."
"I will."
I headed to our room and floated onto the bed, pulling my phone out of the pocket. I called Lois and talked to her for a few minutes, getting a status report – nothing had changed. I told her I'd see her in the morning and we hung up.
I folded my hands behind my head and stared at the stars through the ceiling. Even Christopher was picking up that things weren't quite right between me and Lois.
I'd managed to evade Sam's question after Nate was born. Lois had called right after he asked me again what my plans were for the day after Christopher's fifth birthday and I'd left to talk to her. Sam hadn't been happy about it, but I'd been careful not to be alone with him since.
I sighed. Right now, I couldn't focus on that. Right now, I needed to focus on Nate and what we could do to get him healthy and on Christopher and making sure he wasn't feeling neglected while Nate was in the hospital. Jimmy was going to be staying at the house for a few days and that would help, but...
No one had said anything looked unusual during any of the tests they'd done earlier – the ultrasounds and x-rays and other tests that looked at his insides all came back completely normal. That was a huge relief. There were more tests scheduled for the next day and then the pH Probe on Monday, so he'd be there until at least then.
I sighed again.
Once Nate was out of the woods, then I'd think more about what Christopher had said and what on earth I was going to do about my life, my marriage, my sons.
*~*115*~*
November 2005
~~~~~
Lois
~~~~~
Surgery.
They wanted my three-month-old son to have surgery.
They wanted my three-month-old, half-Kryptonian son to have surgery.
I sighed. They were sending us home for a couple days until they could get the equipment in. They hadn't done this kind of surgery on such a small baby in years and needed to order what they needed. The surgeon had only been at Met U's hospital for a few months and had done it on babies fairly often at his old hospital. Nate, now up to eight and a half pounds, would be one of the smallest babies he'd done it on though.
It was Friday and surgery was scheduled for Wednesday morning.
Unless we called it off.
Jonathan had flown in earlier that morning and we were getting ready to have a Kent family pow-wow.
"Should we bring my dad into this?" I asked them as we settled into the living area of our room.
Clark ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know."
"He's not going to tell anyone," I pointed out.
"I know, but..."
"Would it change his mind about Nate having surgery?" Jonathan asked. "He's looked at all the medical records – all the x-rays and CAT scans and EKGs and everything else. He hasn't noticed anything off and neither has anyone else. Is there *any* other option at this point? Besides surgery?"
I paced. "I don't think so. We've tried everything. I have no idea how he's managed to gain as much as he has the last week, but I think it's because I've done nothing but force feed him high calorie food, at least that's how it feels. And that's all well and good for a week or so, but is that sustainable long term? Is it *desirable* long term? Is there any way to know if that valve will fix itself? If he grows up to be invulnerable like Clark, will it automatically heal itself when the invulnerability kicks in? Can we risk waiting that long?"
Jonathan and Martha were sitting next to each other on the couch, his arm tight around her. Clark was in one of the chairs, his forearms resting on his knees. I continued pacing and as long as I was pacing I wouldn’t be expected to sit by Clark. I wasn't sure if it was the week apart, where we'd hardly seen each other or what, but I really didn't want to be anywhere near him at the moment.
Martha and Jonathan shared a look.
"We talked about this," Martha said, "but decided we wouldn't bring it up unless you did. We're okay with telling Sam if you two think it's the best thing to do. We'll support you whichever way you decide."
"Is there anything he could say that would change our minds?" Clark asked, looking up at me.
I shrugged. "We could always just tell him that we're freaked out by the idea of someone cutting open our not-quite-four-month-old. And that's completely true, no matter what his biology. Ask if there's any other specialist we could consult or any other option or what waiting might accomplish – if anything. And if he comes up with *anything*, take that option instead of surgery right now?"
Clark sighed. "That sounds like a good plan. As for telling him... play it by ear? He was urging us to admit him a month ago, but only because he was afraid of what might happen if we waited. He completely understood our rationale for waiting – Kryptonian physiology aside, we were more than a bit hesitant to admit such a little baby, but we also want what's best for him."
There was a beeping sound that indicated someone entering our wing.
"Lois? Clark?" It was Dad.
"In here, Daddy," I called.
He walked in the room. "Family conference?"
I nodded. "Yeah. We didn't know where you were and you didn't answer your phone." I resumed my pacing.
"I got caught up on a conference call." He sat in one of the chairs. "What's the consensus?"
"You're the doctor," I reminded him. "You've looked at all the tests they've done. What do you think?"
He sighed. "Well, the pH Probe was the only test that came back abnormal. That's good. His reading was a 21 and anything over a 15 indicates GERD - gastroesophogeal reflux disease."
"What's the highest possible score?" Jonathan asked.
"I'm not sure," Daddy admitted, "but I do know that 21 is pretty high."
"Are there *any* other options at this point?" I asked him. "Any other specialists to call in? Anything?"
He shook his head. "If there is, I don't see it."
"Did you see anything unusual at all on any of the tests?" This came from Clark. "Anything that might indicate this was a symptom and not the problem or anything else even this slightest bit off?"
"No, nothing. Everything except his weight and the pH Probe, test results looked great."
I looked at Clark and he looked at me. He shrugged slightly. "I don't see any other options then."
I scrubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, willing the tears to stay put. "Surgery it is then, I guess."
I failed and the tears started flowing. Daddy moved next to me and wrapped me in his arms; in the same big hug he'd given me countless times over the years. "Would you do it?" I asked him. "Would you agree to surgery for me or Lucy when we were almost four-months-old? If he were your son..."
"He's my grandson," Dad said quietly. "And yes, at this point, I would."
I nodded against him. "Okay. Then appointment with Dr. Forest on Tuesday, surgery on Wednesday."
"Do you want me to go with you?" he asked. "To the appointment? They might even let me scrub in and observe if you want me to ask."
"I don't know," I told him.
"Well, talk about it and decide." He gave me one more squeeze. "You're doing the right thing."
"I know," I whispered. Deep down I did know, but that didn't make it any easier.
Fifteen minutes later, they had all left and I was standing staring out the window over the pasture, moonlight illuminating the dusting of snow.
"Are you okay?" came a quiet voice behind me.
I shrugged and a second later, Clark was behind me, his arms wrapping around me. "It's the right thing to do."
"I know." I turned in his arms until my cheek was resting on his chest, my arms sliding around his waist. "I'm still scared and not just about the Kryptonian thing. I'm scared because they want to cut open my son who's barely more than a newborn."
"I know. It scares me, too, but we've tried everything else. All the doctors, your dad, everyone thinks it's the right thing to do. We have to trust them to know what they're talking about and what they're doing."
I sighed. "I know it's not something we usually do, not since our anniversary and all that, but would you hold me tonight – at least until I'm asleep?" I hurried on, remembering his hesitation the last time I'd asked. "You don't have to, but I sleep better when you do – or fall asleep easier at least."
"Of course," he said, letting go of me and scooping me up. "Mom said she'd get up with Nate tonight so we could sleep – you especially. She knows you didn't sleep well while you were at the hospital."
I was glad I'd changed into my pajamas and pulled the covers back as soon as everyone left. He set me gently on my side of the bed before floating over me, coming to rest behind me as I pulled the covers up. He put his arm around me, pulling me back towards him and I closed my eyes for a minute, relishing the feeling of his body along mine.
Here I felt safe – and even loved – but I couldn’t let myself get used to it. One day he'd leave and I'd be alone in my bed again. I'd move though, switch to another room – either my old one or one of the apartments if the boys stayed with me. I wouldn't be able to stay here – where we'd made Nate. Maybe I'd move into Jess' room and move one of the boys in here or something if they stayed.
I let out a deep sigh.
"What is it?" Clark asked. "And don't say Nate because I know it's more than that."
~~~~~
Clark
~~~~~
I did. I knew there was something else bothering her – probably the same ole, same ole, but I had to make sure.
"What do you think is bothering me?" she asked, rolling over to look me in the eyes.
I sighed. "Probably the same thing that bothers you when we're close to each other."
"You mean that my husband's not in love with me and is planning on leaving me – with or without my kids – in a couple years? And don't say that I brought it up this time because I didn't." I could hear the bitterness in her voice.
"Yeah, something like that." I sighed and rolled onto my back, staring at – not through – the ceiling. "You know what Christopher asked me the first night Nate was in the hospital?" I ran both hands through my hair.
"What?"
"He asked me if I loved you." I hadn't planned on telling her all of this yet, not until Nate was out of the woods or whatever.
"What did you tell him?"
"That I did. And you know that's the truth but even though he's not old enough to understand the different kinds of love, he and I were talking about different kinds. He wanted me to call you right back and tell you. I told him I'd tell you later."
"You didn't."
"I didn't want to just say it without having the conversation that went with it and that wasn't the time or place."
"Huh."
I wasn't sure she bought it.
"What was I supposed to tell him?"
I could tell she wasn't going to say what she was really thinking. "I don't know," she finally said.
"I thought you weren't going to hold back the smart-aleck remarks," I said without thinking.
"Fine. I'm thinking that maybe you should have told that you love Mom but not enough to stick around after he turns five."
"How would I explain that to a two-year-old? And you would have *killed* me if I had."
"Probably," she conceded. "But you still should have found a way to avoid the question or just reiterate that you love him and Mom loves him. That's what we're going to end up telling him someday anyway, right? Why start misleading him now?"
Yeah, the bitterness was really coming through.
"If I could make myself fall in love with you, I would," I said, surprising both of us. "It kills me to think that it's going to hurt the boys and you and me, but neither one of us want to settle for a marriage that's basically platonic."
"So it would be *easier* to just fall in love with me? But you can't bring yourself to make yourself?"
"You – the general ubiquitous you – can't make yourself fall in love with someone," I pointed out.
"So you'll go back to Lana in a few years and I'll start from scratch." I heard more than saw her shrug.
I sighed. "I don't know about Lana."
She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow. "Is there trouble in potential paradise?"
"Maybe. It's been almost three years already. I've had two babies with you; she lost a baby with someone else. A few things she said last time I talked to her bothered me some. I don't know that it's some things we couldn't work through, but who knows? Who knows if she'll even want me back? And if she won't be a good step-mom to the boys then it won't happen either. Besides the whole alien thing."
"Would she let you be Mr. Incredible?"
I shrugged. "I don't know." I thought about asking her if she'd be opposed but it didn't matter.
"I won't settle for second choice," she said quietly. "So if you have any thoughts of seeing if she's even interested and if she's not, coming running back to me, you can just forget it. I won't take Lana's rejects because you don’t have anywhere else to go. I want to be with someone who loves me for me, not because I'm better than being alone. We'd both end up resenting each other and that wouldn't be good for either of us or the boys. Besides being relegated to a life of celibacy, because I'm not being friends with benefits. It's either a commitment to a life together, loving each other or it's nothing. Got it?"
I nodded. "I wouldn't be happy with that either. And I wouldn't do that to you – offering you second best."
"Well, at least we're clear on that."
There was a long silence.
"Just out of idle curiosity," she finally said, "what is it that you love or loved or whatever about Lana? And what is it that I'm lacking? Not that I'm planning on going out and getting some 'I heart Clark' tattoo if it would make you feel differently or make some fundamental change to who I am, but I'm curious."
"Lana..." I sighed. Did I really want to do this? Would Lois give me a choice? "I've known Lana since I can remember. Except for the Kryptonian thing, she knows everything about me – or did anyway. She was my best friend. She was there for me through everything – even if she didn't really understand. She didn't push me when I was brooding over a new power that made me different than everyone else. She just sat with me and held my hand and let me work through it, never pushing me for more than I was willing to tell her. She's beautiful, tenacious, strong. She loves kids. She loved *me*."
"I love you," Lois said quietly. "I know everything she didn't and I still love you, but that's not enough and I understand why, but why was it enough then?"
"It wasn't. It was everything. The physical attraction..."
"Which we've proven we have in spades – or we did a year ago anyway before pregnancy and childbirth destroyed what was left of my figure."
I ignored that. She was right, but I ignored it. "Her kindness..."
Lois snorted.
"Around everyone but you," I pointed out. "You two were like oil and water from the moment you met. Her generosity. Her."
"So what is it about me that's lacking? I like to think that I have at least some of each of those qualities."
"You do." I sighed. "You equate just about everything to one of your shows right?"
She shrugged. "Sometimes."
"It's like Friends. When Ross was dating Julie and was making a pro/con list between her and Rachel, what was on Julie's con list?"
"She wasn't Rachel," Lois said quietly. "So that's what makes me inherently unlovable? I'm not Lana?"
I gave a muffled scream. "No. That's not it at all. You're *not* inherently unlovable; you're just not Lana."
*****
TBC
