Innocence Lost
By Laura Davies AKA Br*tling AKA BrightFeather
Rated: PG-13
Submitted:
Disclaimer: I don't own Lois, Clark, Perry, Jimmy, or any of the related DC Comics and WB characters. <g> All other characters not seen in the series are a figment of my chocolate and PEZ high imagination and belong to me.
In other words, Rachel, Jamie, and all other new people are *mine*! All *mine*! Mwahahahaha! Other bouts of weirdness can be attributed to sleep-deprivation. Any resemblance to any other work of fiction is strictly coincidental and probably due to Pixie Stix induced sugar-highs.
Author's Note: This is the sequel to Little Girl Lost, but can stand on its own. For those coming in late, Rachel Kent is Lois and Clark's adopted daughter. She was severely abused by her stepfather, whom she calls 'Papa Gary' before our favorite couple got her. At this point in the timeline, Rachel is six years old, and Matthew James, or 'Jamie'--Lois and Clark's biological son--is a month old. (Born July 20, 1999, 4:45 PM, 9 lbs. 7 oz.
And yes, I've been living in their heads for too long!)
As with Little Girl Lost, this piece is somewhat dark, and may be offensive to some readers. Again, I'm tackling serious subject matter--readers beware. Violence by and against children is on the rise, and I believe that Rachel is probably the best Kent child to deal with this subject because she already knows that the world isn't all sweetness and light, and can sometimes be a dark and scary place. I promise an interesting read with a happy ending--I've always hated stories than end unhappily. My thanks go to my beta readers, Jenni, Pat, Avia, and Robin, the readers on both message boards, and to the #lanekent crew.
"There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid."
-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Chapter 1:
Witness
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August 21, 1999 4:30 PM
Centennial Park, Metropolis
Rachel walked quickly into the woods, glancing back to where her mother was pacing with her baby brother next to the playground. Her momma had given permission for her to go play, so she wouldn't be looking for her for a few minutes. It was late afternoon, and Jamie was crying *again*. It seemed as if he never stopped! She knew that they had to take care of him, but it seemed as if her momma and daddy were paying more attention to the baby than they paid to her. They were so worried about him. Sometimes she wondered if they remembered she existed.
"Take *that*." She heard a voice say somewhere in front of her. Curious, Rachel snuck quietly up to a thicket of bushes and peeked cautiously through the green leaves. She shivered as she saw the gloved figure hit a smaller form with a rock over and over, muttering under its breath. Quietly, she wormed her way into the bushes and watched in horrified fascination as the person stopped its actions and began to arrange the still body. Rachel's eyes widened as she noticed the condition of the body. She could see blood--lots of blood--all around the silent form. 'Maybe they're playing and its just ketchup,' she thought. The person turned toward her, still holding the blood-spattered rock, so she froze lest she be discovered.
Rachel curled herself into a tight ball, being careful not to disturb the greenery around her as the horrifying events played out in front of her. She desperately wanted to call for her daddy, but knew that the attacker would probably reach her to shut her up before her calls of, "Help, Superman" could reach his ears. She bit her lip; desperately holding back tears as the person finished, dug a hole, buried the rock, covered up the disturbed spot with leaves and other debris, and left the scene of the crime. She looked at the body of a small boy, and yanked on a strand of hair. She didn't know if he was dead or alive, but something about his silent form reminded her of the way her first mommy had looked at the funeral.
"He's dead," she whispered, terrified by what she had just seen. Rachel waited for a few minutes before crawling out of her hiding place and making her way back to the bench were her momma was sitting with the now sleeping Jamie. “Can we go home now, Momma?” she asked, tugging on Lois's shirt.
Lois examined Rachel closely, concerned. “What's the matter, peanut?” she asked, freeing one hand to brush a lock of tangled hair away from Rachel's face.
Rachel smiled brightly, refusing to show the terror she felt when thinking about what she had just witnessed. “Nothing, Momma--I just wanna go home. It's *hot* out here.”
Lois studied Rachel intently before finally nodding. She laid Jamie in the stroller and gathered up his things before standing up and holding her hand out to Rachel. “Hold my hand, Rachel,” she ordered.
“Momma--”
“Rachel, you have two choices: you can either hold my hand, or you can hold on to the stroller.”
Rachel grimaced, reached for her mother's hand, and walked silently beside Lois to the car. The images of what she had seen kept replaying themselves in her mind--and at that moment, she didn't want to be touched. She knew that her momma and daddy would never hurt her, but what she had seen brought back memories that she'd rather forget.
Rachel reached back and ran a finger over circular scars just above her hairline, remembering how she had received them. True, Papa Gary hadn't ever hit her with a rock--he preferred his fists, his belt. And the person who had hurt the boy was considerably smaller than Papa Gary. She climbed into the Jeep and shut her eyes tightly as Lois unfastened the car seat from the stroller and belted it and Jamie into the car. Rachel fastened her seatbelt and waited as her mother folded the remains of the baby's stroller and loaded it into the car.
Rachel's mind shied away from the memory of what had just happened as well as the remembrance of how Papa Gary had occasionally put out his cigarettes. Lois got into the Jeep and looked back at her daughter. “Baby, are you all right?” she asked, concerned by the expression on the child's face.
"I'm just tired, Momma," Rachel said listlessly. She couldn't talk about what she'd seen. Momma had enough to deal with because of Jamie's colic, and she'd been doing some editing work from home when he was sleeping. She leaned over and kissed her brother on the cheek. She had to protect him, and that meant protecting her parents as well. Silently, she vowed not to say anything about the little boy she'd seen killed. It would worry them, and she didn't want to give them any reason to give her back.
Rachel frowned slightly as she remembered rumors she'd heard in the orphanage about kids being given back even after they were adopted. It wouldn't happen to her. "I'm okay," she whispered, curling up in the seat as much as she could manage while still being buckled in.
Rachel closed her eyes and tried to forget what she'd seen by remembering the last time she'd convinced her Daddy to take her flying. She loved the way the wind felt in her hair and the feel of his strong arms around her, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She let her mind drift to her momma holding her and singing as she rocked her to sleep. With sudden clarity, she knew that they'd never give her back, but the irrational fear was still there. She really missed having more of their attention.
Rachel considered telling what she'd seen, but it would only hurt and worry her parents. She refused to do that--she'd never even told them about how Papa Gary'd liked to put out his cigarettes when he was angry for that very reason. She sighed and snuggled back into the seat, letting her eyes drift shut. Rachel smiled as she let the happy memories she'd made with her family drift through her mind. Her thumb slowly made its way into her mouth as she fell asleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
August 21, 1999, 5:30 PM
348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis
Lois unbuckled Jamie's car seat and glanced over at Rachel. She frowned in worry as she noticed the thumb stuck in Rachel's mouth. It was becoming a common occurrence to find her daughter curled up in strange places, cuddling her bear, and sucking her thumb. More often than not, Rachel was sound asleep when they found her. Why, just last week, they'd found her in the hidden closet where Clark kept the Suits.
Rachel's therapist had claimed that Rachel was just feeling a little insecure, and that it would pass as she adjusted to having a new baby in the house, but Lois just couldn't help but feel concerned. She pulled the baby carrier out of the car and set it in the stroller, making sure that the brake was on, before reaching over to unbuckle Rachel's seatbelt. "Wake up, peanut," she said quietly.
Rachel stirred against the seat, then cracked open her large, dark blue eyes. "Momma?" she asked around her thumb.
"We're home, sweetheart," Lois said.
"Okay," Rachel answered, climbing out of the car. She followed Lois up to the door and inside just as Jamie started crying again. Lois unbuckled the baby carrier and took Jamie out, expertly cradling him in her arms. She walked back and forth, shushing him softly. Rachel shivered. When her other brother had cried, Papa Gary had punished her. She tiptoed past them and hurried up to her room.
Lois watched her go, worried by her little girl's behavior. She determined to ask the therapist about it at the next appointment and started singing softly to Jamie. Fervently, she hoped that he'd grow out of the colic quickly. She was starting to lose patience with the constant crying, not to mention losing way too much sleep over it.
She put her son up on her shoulder and began rubbing his back. “Shh, sweetie, it's okay.” Lois walked over to the rocking chair, sat down, and began to rock. Deftly, she unfastened her blouse and nursing bra and offered her breast to Jamie. He turned his head away and kept crying. She sighed and fixed her clothes. It had been worth a try. He wasn't hungry, wet, or cold--it was just colic again.
Lois turned as she heard the soft thump of Clark landing outside. He hurried over to her and held out his arms. “I think it's my turn,” he murmured, taking the baby from her.
Lois rubbed her eyes tiredly. “Thanks,” she said, standing up to plant a kiss on Jamie's forehead. “It's a good thing I love you so much, kiddo, or I'd be tempted to try for a trade-in.” Clark chuckled and leaned over the crying baby to kiss her gently.
Lois broke off the kiss quickly and smiled. “I'm going to check on Rachel,” she said as she started walking toward the stairs.
Clark watched her go until Jamie upped the volume. He made soothing noises and rubbed the baby's tummy gently. He took off and flew around the room, humming a lullaby in a slightly off-key voice. Jamie started to quiet down. "Shh," he whispered. "It's okay, buddy."
The baby continued to whimper, and then started to scream yet again. Clark stopped rubbing Jamie's tummy and started patting his back instead. "Shhh," he murmured again. He looked at his wailing son and grimaced. He was glad that he could be there, but he wasn't sure how to help his little boy. Dr. Klein and their pediatrician, Dr. Lindsey, said that the colic would pass, but sometimes he doubted it. He'd cut back considerably on Superman calls since they had gotten Rachel, and had cut back again with Jamie's birth. Sometimes he just felt... torn. He *had* to take care of his family, but the world needed him, too. At that moment, however, he couldn't think of anyone who needed him more than the helpless, colicky baby in his arms.
Clark flew back and forth, hoping that the motion would soothe his son. The baby continued to cry. He sped up, praying that it would work--it always did, eventually. Unfortunately, Superman burdened with a howling infant wasn't exactly something that the general public could see--otherwise, he might have been tempted to try flying to Smallville and back. Jamie's crying wasn't exactly inconspicuous.
Clark rocked his son back and forth as he flew and was gratified when the baby finally settled down. He continued flying until Jamie yawned and fell asleep. He flew slowly upstairs and settled the infant in the bassinet before tiptoeing out the door and shutting it gently. He spun back into his street clothes and went downstairs. He was sure that Lois and Rachel were hungry, and it was his turn to cook.
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August 21, 1999 5:45 PM
348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis
Rachel huddled in the linen closet and pulled a blanket over her head. Closets were good for hiding. She hadn't liked them before, when she was still living with Papa Gary, but the closets in the Kent household were different. Papa Gary had always put her in the 'punishment closet'--it still scared her to think about it. He had boarded up the cracks, so that light couldn't get in, and she had felt as if she were suffocating once locked inside.
She could still hear Jamie crying, and the sound made her nervous. She hadn't heard noises that loud for a long time--the Kents weren't a yelling kind of family. Papa Gary had been, but he'd been in jail for *months*. He deserved it, too, Rachel thought rebelliously as she pulled up her shirt to look at one of the old scars on her belly.
She smoothed the shirt down and pulled the blanket closer. Rachel grimaced in distaste at the thought of her former stepfather. He wasn't going to hurt her again, nobody would--her daddy had *promised*, and Superman always kept his promises. She shivered; at least her parents hadn't seen her scars. She'd been living with them for almost a year, and she still hadn't let them near when she was missing clothes where her scars would show. She figured that it would only hurt them to see exactly what he'd done to her, and she couldn't let that happen; she *wouldn't* let that happen. Rachel sighed. Mommy always got a sad look whenever she saw one of the few *visible* scars, so seeing more of them wasn't a good idea.
Her Momma and Daddy had *never* liked it that she wanted to take a bath on her own, but they accepted it. They always seemed careful not to push her about stuff like that--they even seemed to understand when she didn't want to be touched. She knew that they waited right outside the bathroom door for her; just in case she needed their help.
Rachel leaned back against some throw pillows in the corner of the closet and sighed. Sometimes she wished that she could tell everything, but the very thought of it made her tummy feel funny. Not even the doctor-lady who had her draw pictures every week knew. The thought of how she had let him hurt her made her feel... ashamed. Daddy kept telling her that none of it was her fault, but a small, insidious whisper inside her head said differently. Part of her thought that she didn't deserve her new family--that Papa Gary was right and that she *was* bad.
Sometimes, for brief periods of time, she forgot, but it didn't take much to remind her. Sometimes she still expected swift reprisals when she spilled her milk, dropped a toy, came back from playing minus a hair ribbon, or when they were just plain upset about something. Her Momma and Daddy hadn't ever hit her, but a small part of her was still waiting for it. Rachel reached for Aimee and cuddled her before putting her thumb back in her mouth. She had heard momma asking the doctor-lady about her thumb-sucking, but she didn't know why it was a problem.
It was... comforting. Her world had always been uncertain--at least until the adoption papers had been finalized--and it was one of her few constants. Sure, she hadn't done it after her momma and daddy had gotten her, and she had stopped doing it in front of Papa Gary after he'd beaten her for it, but it just felt natural. It was also an effective barrier--as long as she had her Aimee, CJ, and her thumb, the world would be stable around her for a brief time.
Rachel settled back into her nest of extra blankets, towels, and throw pillows with a sigh. It had been a long day and she was tired. Her stomach cramped, forcibly reminding her that it had been a long time since lunch. She pushed the hunger away with the ease of long practice and closed her eyes. She yawned and began to picture herself with the family she loved. It wasn't all that hard to banish her bad memories if she tried, she decided. All she had to do was to replace them with good ones--and the Kents were good for that. She drifted in between being asleep and being awake, content despite the muffled, yet still angry howls of her baby brother.
Rachel cracked open her eyes as the door opened. "Peanut?" Lois called softly.
"G'way," she replied. "Am *sleepy*."
Lois crouched down on the floor and pulled the blanket off of Rachel's head. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable in bed?" she asked, smiling.
Rachel frowned. "Nuh, uh. I like it here," she said.
Lois sighed and shook her head. "Baby, it'll be time for supper," she murmured. "C'mon, Rachel, honey. I know you must be hungry--lunch was a long time ago."
Rachel simply snuggled back into her pillows defiantly. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" Lois asked.
Rachel buried her face in one of the pillows, not wanting to answer. Lois reached out to stroke the child's hair. "Is it the noise, peanut?" she murmured.
Rachel nodded hesitantly, her face still buried in the pillow. Lois reached out and pulled the unresisting child to her, hugging her gently. "Rachel, it's *okay*. Nothing bad is going to happen because Jamie cries," she promised. "He's a baby with colic; and he'll grow out of it." She kissed Rachel on the forehead.
Rachel wound her arms around Lois's neck and hid her face again. "Promise?" she whispered, still scared.
Lois continued to stroke the child's hair. "Yes," she said simply. Rachel sighed and laid her head on Lois's shoulder. "Let's go downstairs, peanut. Daddy might need some help with supper."
Rachel simply cuddled closer to Lois. "Carry me, Momma?" she asked, her voice tremulous.
Lois sighed and kissed Rachel again. "Baby, you're *really* getting too big for me to do that," she said.
Rachel looked at her pleadingly. "Please?" she pleaded.
Lois gathered the little girl close, stood up, and slung Rachel over her hip. "Thank you," Rachel murmured, once again burying her face in her momma's neck. When her parents were holding her, all doubt faded about what might happen and was replaced with feelings of love, comfort, and safety. Nothing could hurt her when they held her, and it was then that she allowed herself to believe that nothing ever would again. She found security when they hugged her, and a peace that she had yet to find anywhere else in her world. Rachel tightened her grip on her momma's neck as they started down the staircase for supper.
Somehow, as Lois held her, the fear and horror brought on by witnessing the murder earlier that day lessened. The killer couldn't get her, and she knew her parents would always keep her safe. Her stomach knotted again and let loose an audible growl. In the meantime, it was suppertime and she was hungry. Rachel smiled and laid her head on Lois's shoulder. Food was starting to sound really good--even if her momma *did* manage to burn it again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
August 23, 1999 4:00 PM
Daily Planet, Metropolis
Clark flipped through his notes, stopped, and started typing furiously into his computer. His latest story would barely make the deadline for the morning edition--if he hurried. He glanced around furtively; no one was watching. He began typing at superspeed, finished his story quickly, and LANed it to Perry.
He grabbed his notepad and leaned back in his chair to think. He missed Lois. It just wasn't the same at the Planet without her. Her maternity leave would be up in a little while, and lately she'd been talking about taking a leave of absence--or just coming back part-time. If they were careful, their finances *could* work out on his salary alone, but he missed having her with him. They'd been partners for a long time, after all.
Clark understood that she didn't want strangers raising Rachel and Jamie, but they *would* be within reach--Jamie downstairs in the Planet daycare center, and Rachel would be there after school. He sighed and looked down at his notes for the next story again. He was doing everything he could, but sometimes it just didn't seem like enough--he'd need to split himself in two to do everything that needed to be done!
He supposed he was lucky that no twisted, maniacal, evil, megalomaniac geniuses had shown up lately. After all, taking the time to catch one wouldn't be good for his family; Lois, Rachel, and Jamie needed him more than the world ever could. Some criminals had noticed his distraction, and had tried to take advantage of it, but he'd worked things out with Henderson and Zymeck so that the police were taking up the slack.
He hadn't told them much, but they had agreed with him that even Superman deserved a private life. He'd just said that he'd found someone and that they wanted to give a deeper relationship a chance. He hadn't given any other details; hadn't told them that he'd already been married for two years. Clark wished that he could have told them the whole truth--the two men had been his friends for years--but he'd reconciled with the fact that he couldn't tell the whole truth if he was to keep Superman's image years ago.
"Kent!"
Clark swiveled his chair in the direction of Perry's office. "Yes, Chief?" he said.
"A body's just been discovered in Centennial Park--get over there and cover it." Perry ordered.
Clark stood up and grabbed his jacket, notebook, and pen. "I'm on it, Chief," he answered as he hurried toward the stairwell. He went up to the roof, looked around, and spun into the Suit. He flew as close to the crime scene as he dared and touched down in a tangled thicket. Quickly, he spun back into his street clothes and hiked the short distance to the crime scene.
He watched as the coroner bagged the victim's hands and examined the body before placing it in a body bag. He looked around, furtively using some of his superpowers, but found nothing. Clark frowned and tightened his lips--he *hated* it when a child was murdered. Now that he had Rachel and Jamie, he couldn't help but to see them in the same position. He hurried over to Henderson and smiled. "Henderson, is there anything you can tell me about this one?" he asked.
"Not much of a story here, Kent," Henderson said, shrugging. "Kid probably took candy from the wrong person--we don't even have an ID on the body or time of death yet. We’ve had some kids the vic’s age reported missing, but it’ll take time to sort through the reports to get a positive ID. Hell, for all we know, the boy was killed elsewhere and dumped here; it rained yesterday, so forensics doesn’t have much."
"C'mon, Henderson--what can I print about this?" Clark said.
Henderson thought about it for a moment. "We've got a seven year old Caucasian boy, light brown hair, gray eyes, nice clothes. The cause of death isn't official yet, but you couldn't print that, anyway... at least until we catch the perp." Henderson rubbed his hand over his eyes. "The crime may have been sexually motivated; we don't know for sure, but that's off the record, too."
He leaned back against a nearby tree. "Every day I pray that for just *once*, we'd have a few days without crime. I wish people would put me out of business," he muttered.
Clark gripped Henderson's shoulder sympathetically. He definitely knew the feeling; he'd like a few days off for Superman, too, without having to leave town to get it.
Henderson continued, not really paying attention. "I especially hate it when the vic is a *kid*. I just don't understand how someone could kill a child," he ended with a sigh.
"I don't either," Clark offered quietly. "I know I'd probably go nuts if something happened to Rachel or Jamie."
Henderson smiled tightly. "Yeah--every time we get a kid as a vic, I see Charlie or Anna in their place." The two men were silent for a few minutes, thinking of their respective families.
Clark broke out of the reverie first. "Thanks for the information, Bill," he said. "You'll keep me informed?"
Henderson nodded. "Yeah," he said with a sigh.
Clark clapped the detective on the back. "Tell Lucille and the kids that I said hi," he requested.
Henderson nodded. "Tell Lois we miss her--and give Rachel a hug for me." He smiled faintly. "That kid's got guts."
Clark chuckled. “I will," he promised before leaving. There was just enough time to call Perry before heading home early. Henderson was right--there really wasn't much of a story. It was tragic, but until the police got some leads, it was just another unsolved murder case to go on the books. If he hurried, he could get dinner ready before Lois got back from taking Rachel to see Dr. Summers. He quickened his pace and hurried out of the woods. Lois and Rachel were always tired after coming home from one of these visits, and with Jamie's colic, Lois was bound to be exhausted. He knew he’d also have to tell Lois about the murder. After all, it would probably make the news—the untimely death of a child always did—and she’d be editing some of the articles. Now if only there were no calls for his alter-ego...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
August 23, 1999, 4:30 PM
Metropolis Children's Medical Center
Rachel walked quietly beside Lois on her way to Dr. Summers's office. Every week it was the same--go to the doctor and draw pictures. She'd been careful lately to only draw happy stuff. Her Momma didn't need to worry, and if she drew other stuff, she knew that Dr. Summers would tell Momma, and then Momma would worry.
Rachel dragged her feet as they reached the door. Going there every week wasn't really all that fun. Sure, it was great that she got her Momma all to herself, because Grandma Lane was babysitting Jamie, but she didn't really like going. They walked into the waiting room and she sat down on one of the chairs while her momma went to sign them in.
Rachel looked around the room, hoping that they'd added different toys since the last time she'd been there. She smiled at her momma when Lois came back and leaned into her. She closed her eyes and felt Lois begin to caress her hair. She frowned and opened her eyes when she heard a ruckus coming from the front desk. A big girl was yelling at an older woman, and the woman, ignoring the girl, was giving the lady at the front desk a hard time.
Finally, the noise ended and a woman marched over to a couple of chairs, a young girl in tow. She sat down on one of the chairs and picked up a magazine. The lady flipped through it, tossed it down, and smiled at Lois. "Hello," she said in a cultured voice. "I'm Emily Barnett." She held out her hand.
Lois stopped stroking Rachel hair and grasped the outstretched hand. "Lois Lane," she said.
Ms. Barnett brightened. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Lane--I've read your work, and it's always a pleasure to meet somebody famous like yourself." She motioned to the little girl sitting beside her. "This is my daughter, Megan."
Lois smiled and hugged Rachel. "And this is my daughter, Rachel," she said.
Rachel took one look at Megan and stiffened before hiding her face back in Lois's side. "She's just a little shy," Lois explained as she resumed stroking Rachel's hair.
Rachel snuck another peek at the other girl before hiding her face again. She shivered--the bigger girl was scary. Big kids usually didn't bother her, but this one did. Her momma and Ms. Barnett continued to talk, exchanging pleasantries until their names were called.
Lois stood up and offered Rachel her hand. She took it and walked silently towards the door, shooting scared looks back at Megan over her shoulder. Rachel reached up and tugged on Lois's shirt. "Momma?" she whispered.
Lois crouched down. "What, peanut?" she asked.
Rachel used one finger to trace the circles under her momma's eyes. "Momma," she began hesitantly. "I don't wanna come here no more."
"*Any* more," Lois corrected. "Why, sweetie?"
"I don't like it here," Rachel answered, semi-truthfully. She refused to think about the exact reason *why* she didn't want to come back, because thinking about it would make it real. Her face took on a stubborn look that meant she would not be moved.
"Peanut, how about we go see Dr. Summers today, and we'll figure out something else, okay?"
Rachel nodded reluctantly. "Okay," she agreed.
They went inside the office and Rachel sat down at the table with a box of crayons. Listlessly, she began to draw as her momma pulled Dr. Summers aside and started to talk.
Rachel listened intently, wanting to know what was going to happen. "Dr. Summers, I'm worried about Rachel," Lois said. "She's been hiding in closets lately, and I think it's because of Jamie's colic. She is still taking baths by herself." Lois bit her lip in worry. "Now she says that she doesn't want to come here anymore," she said. “I think that Rachel's hiding things from us--it's like she doesn't really trust us.”
Rachel played with a crayon. Maybe her momma was mad at her--maybe she didn't really want her around anymore. She looked down at the table, allowing her hair to hide her face. Maybe her momma didn't love her anymore. It was a constant, irrational fear--if she wasn't good enough, her parents would stop loving her.
"Ms. Lane, if Rachel doesn't want to come here, don't force it--we haven't been making much progress, and it's possible that we've gone as far as she'll let us with art therapy." Dr. Summers walked over to her desk and pulled out a business card. "I don't like to give up on my patients, Ms. Lane, but I can't help Rachel if she refuses to let me; and she hasn't been trying. Perhaps Dr. Jenkins can help her--he's the best child psychologist in Metropolis. I'll forward her case file to him tomorrow."
Lois took the card reluctantly. "Are you sure?" she asked.
Dr. Summers nodded. "I'll write out a referral and get it to you by the end of the week."
Lois took a deep breath. "Thank you, Doctor," she said. Lois turned around and came over to Rachel. "Peanut, it's time to go," she said quietly.
Rachel took one look at her momma's face, jumped up, and slipped her hand in Lois's. "Okay, Momma," she said.
They hurried out of the office, and to the Jeep. Rachel climbed into the back and buckled her seatbelt. Her momma was upset, very upset. She just hoped that her daddy would be home soon, because Momma always felt better after Daddy held and kissed her. She grinned as she thought about the last time somebody had made her Momma mad--first she started babbling to daddy, then she had gone somewhere, come back, and then she and Daddy started *kissing*.
Rachel covered her mouth with her hands to keep a giggle from escaping. She'd heard noises coming from their room that meant that Daddy was making Momma feel *really* good. They'd had to explain it to her after she'd walked in when she had just had a nightmare one night. And it *had* tied in with the explanation about how babies were made, too.
Rachel smiled and snuggled back into the seat. She'd *never* have to go back to that stupid doctor again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
TBC...
