Thanks to my beta IolantheAlias!
*****
from part 2:
“Thank you,” Clark said simply.
“For what?” Lois was confused.
“For being you,” Clark replied. “No other woman in the world could handle the craziness that is my life.”
“Yeah, well, you're lucky you look good in spandex,” Lois bantered with a smile. “Besides, like you said, I'd be bored otherwise.”
*****
Part 3
Just after midnight, Lois pulled the Jeep into the parking lot at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. After stopping at the front desk and requesting Dr. Cameron, the nurse took their names and called ahead. Once they had been cleared as visitors, they received directions to Adam's room. Clark thanked the nurse before they headed to the elevator.
Given the late hour, the elevator arrived quickly. Lois and Clark stepped in, and Lois pushed the button for the appropriate floor. As the doors closed, she quietly encircled Clark's waist with her arms. He dropped his chin onto her head gratefully, letting out a sigh.
“I hope I've done the right thing,” Clark quietly voiced his concern.
Lois just nodded, still holding the embrace.
“I hope he's not angry that I didn't do as he asked...or that I abandoned him.”
Lois pulled back slightly to look Clark directly in the eye. “You have always done the best you can. That's all you can do,” she said firmly. “I can't believe that Adam would be angry that you gave him a chance at a real life. But even if he is, we'll do what we can to help him and then get out of his way. Regardless,” she continued, “a guilt complex the size of Metropolis is of no help to anyone.”
“I know,” Clark sighed again. “How are you feeling about all of this?”
Lois did not have time to formulate an answer before the elevator doors opened, and they were assailed by the sights and sounds of a medical team on high alert. The lone nurse remaining at the nurses' station took one look at the occupants of the newly arrived elevator and pointed them in the direction of the waiting area, brusquely commanding them to sit. Lois and Clark walked over to the waiting area, but stood observing the action rather than sitting.
“Can you tell what's going on?” Lois quietly asked Clark, still staring in the direction of the room where a significant number of medical personnel were at work.
Clark wore a simultaneously concerned and confused look. “I...I'm not sure.” He concentrated for a moment more. “From what I can tell, that's Adam's room. And it sounds like he just had a heart attack...”
“Oh no, Clark, is he okay?”
“That's what I'm having trouble figuring out,” Clark replied as all of the nurses and doctors began emptying out of Adam's room. “But I think he's fine now,” he said slowly, puzzled.
“Where are they going? Why are they all leaving?” Lois, finished with waiting patiently, marched over to the nurses' station. Clark adjusted his glasses and followed a step behind her.
“Excuse me,” she addressed the nurse who had directed them to the waiting area. “We're here to see Adam.”
The nurse looked up from a chart. “Your names, please.”
“Lois Lane and Clark Kent,” Lois responded.
Clark added, “Superman told Dr. Cameron we were coming.”
The nurse tapped a few keystrokes, then consulted her monitor screen. She took a longer look at first Lois, then Clark. “Unfortunately, I'm not at liberty to discuss the patient's condition. However,” she hurried on, before Lois could argue, “visitors are allowed for brief periods. If the doctors should need to attend to the patient, you will be required to leave the room.” At Clark's nod of assent, she pointed across the corridor. “Adam's room is the first on your right down this hallway.”
Giving a quick thanks, Lois and Clark headed in the direction she pointed. Finally allowed to enter Adam's room, they did so with some trepidation. He lay in the hospital bed, sleeping so peacefully that they could almost believe that nothing at all was wrong with him. Then they became aware of the insistent beeping of the various monitoring machines, and as they moved closer to the bed, they could discern that Adam's sleep was not as peaceful as it seemed.
Laying in the hospital bed, Adam somehow looked smaller than Lois remembered him. His features belied the fact that he was sick, as he still looked almost as healthy and fit as Clark. He was slightly thinner than Clark, and the full beard he sported made him look even more so. The most telling sign of his illness was his pallor.
Lois instinctively moved to hold Adam's hand. Worry marred her features. “Clark,” she breathed, “do you think he's going to be okay?”
“Yes,” Clark was quietly fierce. “If this doctor really is as good as everyone says, then he'll figure it out. Even if that means,” Clark trailed off, unwilling to voice the rest of the sentence, knowing Lois was entirely aware of his meaning.
“'Even if that means...' what?” intruded a relatively very loud voice.
In unison, Lois and Clark turned bodily toward the newcomer.
“Aw, I always miss the interesting stuff,” the intruder prattled on. He walked, or more accurately, hobbled to the end of the bed. He quickly flipped through Adam's chart, then moved towards the monitoring equipment. He stopped next to Clark, who was between the newcomer and the machines.
“Excuse me,” he said in an exaggeratedly polite, and still very loud, voice. He was clearly unimpressed with someone of Clark's stature standing in his way because he had stopped as close as possible without actually touching Clark. He was of average height and build, though he stood slightly stooped because of the cane he used for support. His hair was brown but graying, and he sported what appeared to be perpetual stubble. His most distinctive feature, though, were his clear, piercing blue eyes, set in his face in a manner which lent some credence to reports of mental instability.
Lois, who had been observing the newcomer with narrowed eyes, smoothed her expression and said in a carefully neutral voice, “You must be Dr. House.”
“Ding ding ding! Congratulations! Give the woman a prize!” House did not even look up from his task.
Taken aback, Clark was speechless. Lois, however, was prepared for just such an attitude.
“Why, thank you,” she said, overly sweetly, complete with saccharine smile. “Actually, I'd just like to know what's wrong with my friend and what you're planning on doing about it.”
Finished examining the monitors, House faced Lois from across the bed. He matched her exaggeration with his own. “Oh, I'm sorry, that's the wrong answer. But thanks for playing!”
Lois's eyes narrowed once again, blatantly sizing up Dr. House. He held her gaze with a bemused and slightly condescending expression.
Opting for another approach, Lois pasted a gracious smile on her face. “I'm sorry, I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot.” She held out her hand. “I'm Lois Lane. This is my fiancee Clark Kent,” she indicated Clark with a tilt of her head.
House eyed Lois's outstretched hand gravely, yet somehow still with a hint of sarcasm. “Oh no, Miss Lane. Don't you know social contact is a primary source of the spread of germs in a hospital? We certainly wouldn't want to make your friend here any sicker than he already is, would we?”
Lois clenched her teeth together to prevent a smart retort from escaping her mouth. She slowly brought her hand down but intentionally and obviously placed it back on Adam's hand rather than at her side.
“Excuse me again,” House turned to Clark, who stepped back from the bed to allow the doctor passage once more. Lois and Clark watched as House limped across the room.
“So, Dr. House,” Clark ventured, “can you tell us what's wrong with Adam?”
Slouched in a visitor's chair, House's gaze shifted from Clark to Lois, down to Adam, and back to Clark. “Fascinating!” he said, purportedly to himself but loud enough to be heard across the room.
“What?” Lois asked suspiciously.
“Hmm?” House asked, as if he had no idea what she was talking about. He addressed Clark. “Actually, no, I can't. Partly because I can't, but partly because I just don't want to.” Taking no heed of Clark's surprise or Lois's growing annoyance, he continued. “You see, I haven't decided yet what it is between Ms. Lane and our friend. Is she a friend friend? More than a friend? A 'friend' until she's finished investigating him and exposing him for the rotten slimeball that he is?”
Before either of them could rebut, House ranted on. “And then there's the other half of the infamous Lane and Kent. See, the resemblance between him and our patient is downright uncanny. Yet I've been told that the connection is between Adam and Papa Smurf.”
“Who?” Lois asked, her impatience beginning to crack her facade of calm.
“Papa Smurf,” House repeated, obviously. “You know, Big Blue, Tights Man. It's just one of my little pet names for him.” House gave a goofy grin, as if confessing an embarrassing intimacy.
Adam chose this moment to stir, slowly and haltingly opening his eyes. Recognition dawned as he caught sight of Clark, and he opened his mouth to say something. Before he could, though, the shadow of remembrance crossed his features and he abruptly closed his mouth. Clark nodded slightly, sympathy in his eyes.
Adam's gaze shifted to the other side of the bed, where he met Lois's eyes, which likewise held sympathy but also encouragement.
Dr. House, who had been watching the interaction with interest, spoke up, in the slightly sarcastic tone which was apparently his usual way of speaking. “Good morning, sunshine!”
Adam looked at Dr. House, waiting expectantly for an introduction. Flaunting any and all social convention, House addressed Adam from his seat across the room. “So, you're sick. Any idea what's gotten into you?”
Adam just stared at House in disbelief.
Lois gave voice to Adam's disbelief. “I thought that was *your* job.”
“Oh, it is,” House assured her. “Or,” he amended, “it's the job of my minions. But I always hang around to make sure they don't kill anybody,” he added as an aside. “Of course,” he went on, “I can't do my job until I know the whole story.” He paused, carefully watching for the reaction to his next question. “So what is it? What's the story with you, Adam?”
*****
to be continued
