Clark's Heart

By Deadly Chakram <dwelf82@yahoo.com>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: June 2014

Summary: The Man of Steel faces a health crisis unlike anything
he's ever faced before, and it may just kill him.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make nothing. All characters, plot
points, and recognizable dialogue belong to DC comics, Warner
Brothers, December 3rd Productions and anyone else with a stake
in the Superman Franchise.

WHAM warning. One of my toys isn't going to make it back into
the box.

Author's Note: For the purposes of this story, the mystery baby
at the end of "The Family Hour" never happened. Many thanks to
my beta, KenJ, for helping to make this story tighter and for
catching all of my mistakes.

***

"Morning, honey," Clark said one bright June morning. He
adjusted his tie as he crossed the kitchen to grab a cup of
coffee from the coffee maker before they headed off to work.

"Morning," Lois said, a little smile pulling at the corners of
her mouth. She came up behind him and kissed the back of his
neck. "How'd you sleep?"

"Not great," he replied honestly.

"Busy night for Superman? I woke up a few times and you were
gone."

"Two house fires and a car accident. Nothing that took too long.
I just," he shrugged helplessly, "had a lot of trouble falling
back to sleep each time."

"Well, we've both had a lot on our minds lately," Lois
reminded him.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Is it...?" She gestured to her midsection.

"No...yes...I don't know," he waffled. "We've wanted and
tried for a baby for so long. And now that we're going to have
one...I couldn't be happier. But...I worry. Am I going to be a
good enough father? I almost lost you, I don't know how many
times, because of Superman, in those early days. Is my kid going
to grow up hating the dad who disappears at a moment's notice?
Am I going to miss the important moments -- Little League games,
graduations, prom night?"

"Clark, we've been over this before. You're going to be a
*great* father. Any child will be lucky to have you for a dad."

"I know. But last night...I couldn't turn those thoughts off. I
wound up finishing painting the nursery at five in the
morning."

He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. Stretching,
he yawned, then placed the frames back on his face. Lois gave his
body a squeeze, as if the act could lend him some energy.

"How'd *you* sleep?" he asked, giving the small bump at the
front of her work suit a meaningful glance.

"Okay. It's getting harder to find a comfortable position. But
it's the getting up nine times a night to use the bathroom
that's really killing me."

Clark reversed their positions and hugged her tightly, feeling
her growing stomach solidly wedged between them. "I'm sorry,
honey."

Again, she smiled. "I'm not. Every moment that this baby is
growing inside of me, I'm happy. If it means losing a little
sleep at night, so what? It's all worth it." She patted her
stomach as she pulled out of Clark's embrace in an effort to
emphasize the point.

"Yeah," he agreed as a contented smile crossed his features.
"So, our doctor's appointment is at two, right?"

"Right."

"Are you sure you really want that cream color in the nursery?
We could have waited to paint until after we find out the sex."

Lois shook her head, her now-longer hair swishing with the
movement. "No. I like the cream. It's fresh and airy, don't
you think?"

"I love it, you know that. I just thought you might want a light
pink or blue instead."

"Ugh," she rolled her eyes as she made a face. "I grew up in a
pink and white room as a kid. I felt like I was simultaneously
living in Barbie's Dream House and drowning in Pepto-Bismol."

Clark chuckled, leaned over, and kissed Lois' head. "I love
you."

"I love you too."

"You ready?" he asked.

Lois grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter and nodded. "All
set."

"You want me to drive?" Clark offered.

"No. I'll drive. You try to take a cat-nap on the way to the
office."

"Okay," he relented, knowing that she was right. He needed
whatever sleep he could get.

While Lois navigated the streets of Metropolis, Clark dozed in
the passenger seat. The day was wonderfully warm and sunny, the
comforting rays imbuing him with the energy that he so
desperately needed. He kept his eyes closed the entire trip, and
woke to find Lois pulling into the underground parking garage
beneath the Planet.

"Hey. Feeling better?" Lois asked as Clark stirred.

"Yeah. I needed that. Thanks."

Together, they headed into the building, ready to start the
day's work. Jimmy met them at Lois' desk, where he was setting
down a stack of research notes and photographs. He gave them a
wave and a smile as they approached.

"Hey, Lois. Hey, CK. Today's the big day, right?"

Lois nodded in affirmation and patted her stomach. "Yep. The
afternoon we'll find out how the baby's growing. And, if we're
lucky and he or she is willing to share, we'll find out the
sex."

"That's so cool," the photographer said with a grin. "My
money's on a girl."

Clark chuckled. "A girl would be wonderful. So would a boy.
What's all this?" He gestured to the items Jimmy had just set
down.

"Oh, that's the research you asked for. Phone records,
addresses, photos, the works. You really think Martin Livingstone
is the serial killer?"

"That's what we're hoping to prove," Clark said. "Thanks,
Jimmy."

"Any time. I better get going though. The Chief's got me
running down to snap some shots of the opening of the new wing of
the downtown library."

"Isn't that near that Italian bakery? The one with the
Napoleons? Ugh, what's the name?" She fumbled for a moment.
"Paolini...Puleo...Paduano...?"

"Pisano's," Clark corrected her.

"That's the place," Lois said, looking relieved that Clark had
stepped in to fill the gap in her memory. "You think you could
pick me up one?"

"A Napoleon? No problem," Jimmy said. "Anything for you,
CK?"

"Sure, I'll take one," Clark said. "Thanks."

"Oh, and half a pound of those tri-color almond cookies," Lois
added. "No, wait. Better make it a pound."

"A pound? Right," Jimmy said, raising an eyebrow.

"No judging," Lois said with a grin. "It's the baby who wants
it."

Clark laughed as he pulled out his wallet and handed Jimmy a
twenty dollar bill. "This should cover it. Let me know if it
doesn't, okay?"

"Sure thing, CK."

"Great, thanks, Jimmy. I appreciate it."

"I'd better get going," Jimmy said, checking his watch.
"Catch you guys later."

With that, Jimmy breezed away, stopping only to grab a donut from
Kevin as the other research assistant strolled by with an open
box. Clark pulled out Lois' chair for her. She sat with a
grateful sigh. Clark rubbed her shoulders briefly.

"You okay?" he asked.

She smiled. "I'm great. I know I'm only halfway through this
pregnancy, but it still feels good to sit down."

"You are doing a great job," he assured her, putting his hand
to her stomach. "I can't wait until I can feel this little guy
or girl moving around.

"Oh, he or she is definitely moving," Lois said, her hand
coming up to cover his. "It's weird. I know it's the baby, but
it just feels like...muscle spasms. It's so faint, sometimes I
half wonder if it's just my mind playing tricks on me."

He smiled at her for a moment before asking, "So...where do you
want to start with this stuff?"

Lois looked at the stack of photos and papers. "Maybe you could
give the photos a really thorough check?" she suggested.

Clark nodded. "As my lady wishes." He took the photos and
crossed the aisle to his own desk.

At one o'clock, the two broke for a fast lunch on their way to
the doctor's office. There, they sat with the genetic counselor.
That was awkward for them. Not only did they not have a family
history for Clark's side to look for possible indications of
issues that could be passed to the baby, they had to carefully
sidestep even the most basic ones that they otherwise could have
answered. It simply would not do to give the impression that the
baby was a mix of human and alien genes.

Finally, the torment of the meeting was over. Lois and Clark were
led to another room, this one hosting an ultrasound machine. The
doctor and technician were already there, waiting for them to
arrive. They swiftly got Lois comfortable on the table and began
the scan. Lois and Clark could see everything on a separate
computer screen, while the doctor and technician watched on
another.

"Here's the head," Dr. Bonny said, while the technician,
Kendra, pointed it out with the arrow on screen. "See the face?
The baby is looking straight at you."

"Those black spots...those are the eyes?" Lois asked,
entranced.

"Mmm-hmm," the doctor hummed.

Kendra quickly marked places off on the image and did a
calculation as she measured.

"It's a beautiful face," Clark said, his hand in Lois' as he
sat in a chair next to the table. "Looks just like you," he
joked.

"Funny," she retorted, dryly.

As the scan progressed, more measurement were taken. Each time,
Dr. Bonny or Kendra would explain what they were looking at, take
numerous measurements from as many angles as they could, and
declare everything to be "good."

"Would you like to know the sex?" the doctor asked, as they
grew ready to check that particular part of the baby's anatomy.

"Yes," Lois and Clark said, almost with one voice. "Please."

"Okay," the doctor said with a smile. Then, "See that,
there?" She had Kendra move the arrow on screen. "You are
having a healthy little boy."

"A son?" Lois asked, blinking back tears. "Did you hear that,
Clark? A boy."

"I did," he said, squeezing her hand in excitement. "A son."

"A little Clark," she said, smiling. "A perfect little boy."

Clark said nothing. He merely stood and kissed Lois' brow.

"Just a few more quick checks," the doctor said, as Kendra
moved the ultrasound wand expertly over Lois' midsection. "Ah,
there we go. The feet." She looked at the images for a few
silent moments. "Everything looks just fine, Mr. and Mrs. Kent.
Your son seems to be perfectly healthy. I see absolutely no
reason to worry about anything. Kendra will print you off some
pictures to take with you. It was very nice meeting you both."

"Thank you," Clark said, shaking the doctor's hand while Lois
toweled off the ultrasound gel from her stomach. "Thank you so
much."

"You're quite welcome," Dr. Bonny said, smiling. "Take care
now."

"Goodbye, Doctor. And thank you," Lois said.

"Here you go," Kendra said, as the last image printed. She
handed them a strip of photos. "Best of luck to you both, and
congratulations."

With that, she followed the doctor out of the room. Clark helped
Lois off the table. He let her rearrange her shirt before
wrapping her in a big, warm hug, which she eagerly returned. Then
he was kissing her, over and over, his euphoria at finding out
their child was healthy completely overwhelming him.

"Everything's okay," he said in wonder. "Our boy is
perfect."

"I know. Before today...I was so afraid. I mean, this
child...his origins...I was terrified that the mix of our genes
might...you know." She gestured vaguely.

"I know," he said in a near whisper. "I feared the same thing.
But everything's fine. Okay? Our son is fine."

Lois nodded. "Shall we? We still have plenty of work waiting for
us, back at the Planet."

Clark grinned. "What do you say we stop and get some celebratory
ice cream or something first?"

"Mmm," Lois said, eyes closed briefly. "Sounds wonderful."

"Come on," Clark said, putting his arm about her shoulders as
they walked down the hallway, heading for the exit.
"Chocolate?"

"Is there any other flavor?"

Clark chuckled. "I guess not. At least, not when it comes to the
great Lois Lane."

"Hey, how about we hit up that specialty chocolate shop on
Schuster? I think they have those chocolate cigars that are
wrapped in either pink or blue foil. Could be a cute idea to tell
the bullpen."

"Yeah," Clark agreed with a grin. "I like that idea."

***

"Congratulations, you two," Perry exclaimed with a laugh in his
voice. "I'm so happy for you, I can't even see straight."

"Thanks, Chief," Lois said.

*Help! Somebody help! Please! *Clark's attention to the
conversation at hand snapped as the call for help exploded in his
ears. Then, suddenly, a police scanner call interrupted the
initial plea for help. *All units proceed to the Metropolis
Bridge. Part of the structure has collapsed. Repeat. Part of the
Metropolis Bridge has collapsed. Proceed with caution.*

"Clark? You okay there, son?" Perry asked, concern in his
eyes.

Clark shook his head, trying to dispel thoughts of the bridge and
focus on his immediate surroundings. "Huh? Uh, yeah, I'm fine.
I just realized that I, uh..."

"Forgot," Lois added, stammering as she fumbled for an excuse.

"My credit card," Clark finished. "At the chocolate shop. I
better go get it."

"I'll go with you," Lois said.

"What about the Savino trial piece?" Perry demanded to know.

"Oh, that? We'll finish it when we get back," Lois said
hurriedly.

"Lois! Clark! Chief!" Jimmy called as he raced across the
bullpen. "The Metropolis Bridge just collapsed. At least, a
portion of it did."

"We're on it," Lois called back. "Thanks, Jimmy."

"Jimmy..."

"I'm on it too, Chief. I just need to grab my camera and bag.
I'll see you guys there, I guess," Jimmy said, cutting Perry
off and waving to Lois and Clark as they headed toward the
elevators.

"So, let me guess, that's what you were hearing," Lois said
matter-of-factly as the elevator door closed the two of them off
from the newsroom.

"Yeah."

"How did it sound?"

Clark shook his head. "Not good. It's still a bit early for
rush hour, but..." he trailed off, unable to finish his
sentence.

Lois nodded. "I suppose that's true."

The car came to a halt as they reached the underground garage.
The door opened and the two strode purposefully through the
concrete maze toward Lois' car. When they reached it, Lois
opened the passenger door. Turning to Clark, she kissed him.

"Be careful, okay?"

"I will," he promised.

After carefully checking the area, he ducked out of sight behind
the side of Lois' Jeep and spun into the familiar red and blue
of Superman's costume. Then, before Lois could even blink, he
was streaking from the parking garage and zooming toward the
scene of the disaster. As soon as he was free of the garage, he
sharply angled up, gaining altitude, until he was above the
tallest skyscrapers. It was easier to maneuver up at that height,
without needing to skirt around anything. All obstacles simply
ceased to be a problem, if Clark stayed above them.

A sonic boom rang out in his passing, as he pushed himself to go
ever faster. He was only too aware of how much every second
counted. A second could prevent someone from being injured. A
second could be the veil between life and death. And every second
that he was not on the scene weighed heavily on his mind, made
his heart beat wildly in his chest, made his fingertips twitch in
anticipation of what was to come.

He covered the distance in less than a minute. As soon as the
bridge came into view, he altered his angle once more to ease
into a landing without having to slow his descent. He only slowed
when he was mere feet from the ground, and only because he
didn't want to crack the pavement when he touched down.

"Superman! Thank God!" one of the police officers said as Clark
landed in a flash of primary colors.

"Officer," Clark said, inclining his head in respect.

"The bridge -- what's left of it -- is too unstable for us to
get to where we need to be," the man said in a rush.

Clark looked at the man's name tag. Reynolds, he could see.
"Don't worry, Officer Reynolds. I'll get to them. Have your
men get as close as they can while staying safe. I'll bring the
people and cars to you."

"You heard the man," Reynolds said to the surrounding men and
women. "Move it! Let's go!"

Clark was already on the move, his focus fixed on those he could
help. With his enhanced vision, he easily located those who were
in the most dire circumstances. He directed his efforts to those
people first, pulling people from crashed vehicles and from the
cold water of the Metropolis River below the bridge, though not
many had survived the fall. Then he moved on to those who were
not in immediate danger, but who were stuck on the bridge, unable
to move forward or backward in the absolute and utter chaos of
the scene.

Clark never slowed. He didn't know how long he had before more
of the bridge might give way, or even if any more would. Once the
people were cleared from the scene and safely away from the
destroyed bridge, he turned his attention to the vehicles
cluttering the roadway. Those he simply moved to the side, off of
the bridge and to where the police could easily tow them from the
scene. He allowed himself to finally slow as the last truck was
removed from the road.

Then it was time to address the dead. Clark flew down into the
ravine and river again and again, recovering as many bodies as he
could. He respectfully laid each one down on the ground by the
numerous ambulances that had arrived as he'd worked. He didn't
check for signs of life. He didn't have to. While he'd been
saving those he could, many of the bodies had gone cold and a
bluish tint had crept into their lips and skin. Clark worked in
silence, his heart quietly breaking as each new body was rescued
from the river.

As he moved, he could see teams of first responders steadily
making their way down the steep embankment to either side of the
river. They, too, began the heart wrenching process of recovering
the dead, though they focused more on the broken and splattered
body parts that had hit the ground rather than the water. It was
a gruesome sight, Clark had to admit, as he glanced around at the
blood and gore.

At long last, he rose from the water with the last floating body
he'd been able to find. He laid the woman down in a clear spot
on the ground.

"That's all I could find," he said as he walked up to Officer
Reynolds. "At least, on the surface. There may be more beneath
the water. I could take a look, if you'd like," he offered.

"Thanks, Superman," Reynolds said, appreciatively. "But
you've done plenty. We've got dive teams coming. They can take
it from here."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. We really appreciate the help though. And the
offer."

Clark nodded solemnly. "Okay then."

He turned around to scan the surrounding area. He'd lost track
of how much time he'd spent at the bridge collapse. But, he
gauged, it must have been a while. The crowd had all but
dispersed as he'd begun to lay out the corpses he'd managed to
recover. He could see Jimmy tucking his camera in his bag as he
hopped onto his motorcycle, no doubt in a rush to get the shots
developed in time to get them into the evening edition of the
paper. Lois, as he'd predicted, stood front and center,
feverishly jotting down notes for the story they would write
together. She saw him and waved him over.

"Superman!" she called, like any eager reporter and friend.

He waved in a friendly manner, but he was still too far off for
her to hear him over the continuing din, so he said nothing.
Instead, he turned to one of the female police officers as she
approached him. She offered her hand and Clark shook it firmly.

"Superman, I just wanted to extend my personal thanks," the
woman said. Her badge identified her as Major. "I didn't know
it until just a few moments ago, but my sister was one of the
people you pulled from the water. Thanks to you, she's going to
live."

"I'm happy to hear that she'll be okay," Clark said
sincerely. He gazed back at the scene for a quick second. "I
wish I'd been able to do more, but I'm glad so many are
safe."

"Safe because of you. Anyway, I need to get back." She jerked
her thumb over her shoulder at the cleanup that was going on.
"Thanks again, Superman."

She strode away, blonde ponytail swaying as she went. Clark
turned back to the slowly dispersing crowd. He was about to
gesture to Lois that he would happily provide a Superman
statement for their article, but as he stepped forward,
everything went wrong.

Pain shot through his chest and arms. Nausea washed over him and
he had to fight the urge to vomit. His knees buckled beneath him,
sending him crashing to the asphalt, while weakness flooded him.
His first thought was that someone nearby had Kryptonite, but
after a few moments of agony, he realized that whatever it was
that he was feeling, it was not the same as the sickness he
usually experienced when exposed to the radioactive stone. His
heart sped up and it felt difficult to draw a breath.

"*Superman?!?!*"

It seemed everyone in the area was calling his name. He tried to
answer, tried to stand, but failed on both accounts. Someone
rushed to his side. The policewoman, Major, he thought it was,
but it was difficult to tell. It was as if his very thoughts were
swimming through pain. He was, however, very aware when Lois
dropped to her knees in front of him. Miraculously, no one was
pushing her away. Perhaps that was because the friendship between
Lois Lane, Clark Kent, and Superman was so well known, that none
of the first responders paid any mind to her presence there.

"Superman?" she asked, sheer, naked terror in her voice.

It was enough to pull Clark back from the edge of the abyss.

"Superman?" she called again, cupping his chin with her hand
and forcing him to make eye contact with her. "What's wrong?"

Clark drew as deep a breath as he dared. It didn't make sense
him. He'd always believed that he was completely healthy. He
didn't understand how or why this was happening to him. But he
knew the signs -- knew it from a hundred or more rescues he'd
made with people experiencing what he was currently feeling.

"I think," he gasped out, his chest tightening further with the
effort of speaking. "I think I'm having a heart attack."

"You...what?" Lois asked, her face going stark white.

Clark could only moan softly against the pain.

"Excuse me, Lois," Henderson said, pulling her a few steps back
from where Clark was still on his hands and knees. "You need to
back up. Let the paramedics do their job."

"But..." she protested softly, careful not to sound like the
terrified wife she was.

Clark wondered when Henderson had arrived on the scene. He'd
been so busy, he hadn't noticed before that moment that his
friend was there. But the thought was there and gone in the blink
of an eye. Instead, he tried to focus on the two paramedics who
knelt by his side and began to check him over. He willingly
submitted himself to whatever vital checks and tests they wanted
to run, wanting only for the attack to end, for the pain to
subside.

After what felt like decades but was, in actuality, less than
five minutes, it finally did. Bit by bit, his pain lessened and
then vanished. The weakness in his body fled. His head cleared
and his chest no longer felt like it was being crushed in a
Kryptonite vice. Shakily, he stood after gulping in some much
needed air.

"Are you okay?" Major asked him.

"I...I think so," Clark said, his voice wavering only the
slightest bit.

He sounded brave and strong, but he knew he'd never fool Lois.
Looking at her, he knew he was right about that. She was
attempting to master her emotions, to appear to be no more than a
concerned onlooker or scared friend. Clark had the thought that
she was doing a pretty great job of it, all things considered.
She did not look like a woman who'd just watched her husband go
through such a terrifying ordeal.

"Are you sure, Superman?" Lois managed to ask in an even tone.

"As far as I can tell."

"Superman," one of the two paramedics, a skinny, bald black man
said. His uniform identified him as Washburn. "It does appear
that you've had a heart attack. I'd like it if you allowed us
to take you to the hospital for a more thorough check, just to be
on the safe side."

"I understand," Clark said, nodding. "But there's not much
that can be done for me at the hospital. I promise, I'll get
checked, but I'd prefer to see my usual team of doctors."

The man hesitated, but eventually nodded slowly. "All right.
But, take it easy, please. I can't guarantee that you are one
hundred percent right now."

"I promise," Clark said, giving the man a smile.

"Can we give you a lift?" Washburn asked, gesturing to the
ambulances.

Clark shook his head. "No, but thanks. There're still a lot of
people and things that need attention here. I'll find another
way to get where I need to go."

"Lane. You're a friend of Superman's," Henderson put in.
"Give him a ride?"

"I'd be happy to," Lois said.

"Great. It's settled," Clark said in the professional manner
of the Superman persona.

He turned, his cape flaring out behind him a little in the warm
breeze that had sprung up. It felt good, caressing his skin and
drying the remaining sweat on his brow. He took a deep breath,
immensely grateful to be able to breathe again, then began to
walk. Lois matched him, stride for stride, keeping a respectful
distance from him, though he could all but feel how much she
ached to hold him. He felt the same way, felt that same urge to
hold her to ensure himself that both he and Lois were okay.

"This way, Superman," she said, taking the lead and pointing to
where her Jeep was parked.

As soon as the door was unlocked, Clark clamored into the
passenger seat and collapsed against the backrest. Despite the
fact that he was feeling better, the whole afternoon had been
draining. All his joy at finding out that his son was healthy had
been shoved to the back burner in the wake of the accident and
his heart attack. Now though, as he allowed Lois to drive him
through the city, he clung to that joy in an effort to chase away
his lingering sadness over the lives lost and his fear for
himself.

"Clark," Lois finally said, and he could hear the tears in her
voice. "What happened back there?"

He shook his head, at a complete loss. "I'm not sure. I've
never felt anything like that before. It was so different from
Kryptonite sickness."

"How can you have a heart attack? I thought your body was
invulnerable in every way."

"I thought so too," he said, hanging his head and resting his
chin on his chest. "I don't understand it any more than you do,
believe me."

"I don't think I've ever been that scared for you," Lois
admitted in a near whisper as she pulled away from the curb.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I wish I could have spared you
from seeing that."

"Well," she said, determination creeping back into her tone,
"maybe Dr. Klein has some idea of why the healthiest man on the
planet suddenly has a heart attack in the middle of the
street."

"I just don't understand it," Clark said, more to himself than
to Lois. "I've done things that have required far more of a
physical effort than what I did today. Not that today was the
easiest rescue I've ever made. But still..." He allowed his
voice to trail off helplessly.

"We'll get to the bottom of it," Lois assured him, reaching
over to him to take his hand in her own as they hit a relatively
unoccupied stretch of road.

"I hope so. I've got much more important things to worry about.
Like building my son's nursery furniture, picking out names with
my wife, the works." He looked over to Lois and caught her
smile, returning it with one of his own.

"First things first," Lois said, putting both hands back on the
wheel as she rounded a tight corner. "Let's get you to S.T.A.R.
Labs."

***

"Superman! Lois!" Dr. Klein said, standing up from his work
bench and momentarily forgetting the chemicals he was mixing in
glass beakers. "This is a surprise. What can I do for you?" He
went to step forward, hit the desk, and nearly spilled a beaker
filled with a light pink liquid.

"Dr. Klein," Clark said gravely. "I need your help."

Lois checked the hallway beyond the doctor's office and then
shut the door softly, so as not to rouse suspicion. "There was
an...incident."

"Incident?" Dr. Klein repeated. "What kind of incident?"

"The Metropolis Bridge collapsed," Clark said, by way of
explanation.

"It did? I've been cooped up in here all day." He checked his
watch. "Oh, geez, no wonder I'm so hungry. I should have eaten
lunch six hours ago."

"Dr. Klein," Lois said stiffly, in an effort to jerk the man's
attention back to the issue at hand.

"Huh? Oh. Sorry. Continue, please, Superman."

"Well, I did what I would normally do. Getting people off the
bridge, saving those who'd fallen in the water, clearing the
roadway and retrieving the dead." He gestured vaguely as he
spoke. "When it was all over, I was going to fly off. But
then...the strangest feeling came over me."

"Kryptonite?" Dr. Klein guessed.

"No," Clark replied, his tone serious but letting the doctor
know he was not upset with the interruption. "I had a heart
attack."

"What?"

"At least, I had all the symptoms. The chest tightness,
shortness of breath, weakness, you name it. And the paramedics
seemed to concur with that diagnosis."

"Oh, God," the man stammered, momentarily at a loss. "I
mean..." he licked his lips nervously as he tried to think of
something to say.

"It's okay, Doc," Clark said, crossing his arms before his
chest as he leaned against the wall. "I feel fine now. Just a
little shaken by what happened, that's all."

"Well, I'll run whatever tests I can," Dr. Klein assured him.

"Lois, why don't you head back to the Planet? I'm sure you
need to get to work on the bridge collapse story. I'll be fine
here."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"You'll be okay to fly back...to wherever it is you go?" she
asked, catching herself in midsentence, though Clark guessed that
Dr. Klein hadn't heard the near slip.

"I'll be fine. I appreciate you giving me a lift here. Go on.
I'm sure Clark will be getting back to the Planet soon
himself," he assured her.

"Okay. But if you do need me..." She left the invitation
hanging in the air. "Thanks, Dr. Klein."

Clark watched her leave before turning his eyes back to his
doctor. The man gestured for Clark to sit, so he grabbed the
nearest stool and sat. Dr. Klein sat as well, and appeared to be
deep in thought. When he didn't speak for several minutes, Clark
grew too antsy to stay quiet.

"Dr. Klein?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh."

"I didn't want to say anything in front of Lois. I don't want
to upset her. But I *am* worried about this. What can we do, as
far as tests? I need to know if this was a fluke or not."

"Well," Dr. Klein said thoughtfully and fidgeting with a glass
stirring stick. "There are a few simple things we can start
with."

"Great. Let's get started then," Clark said, eager to get the
whole episode behind him.

"The thing is, Superman, I can't guarantee results."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I can run a CAT Scan and an echocardiogram. And I will.
But I can't say with any degree of certainty that the machines
will be able to return any images. Your molecular structure is so
much denser than a normal human's. At best, I think we can
expect imperfect images of your heart. At worse, we'll see
nothing."

"Isn't there anything else we can do?" Clark asked, his alarm
rising.

Dr. Klein shook his head. "A blood test, but that's about
it."

"Well, that doesn't sound so bad," Clark said.

"Just give me a couple of minutes to gather up what I need,"
Dr. Klein said, standing.

"Uh...Dr. Klein? I just want to make sure that this...whole
thing...stays between the two of us for now."

"Absolutely."

"Thanks."

Clark waited with as much patience as he could muster while Dr.
Klein was gone. Still, after about a minute, he took to pacing,
needing an outlet for his nervous energy. He stopped when the
doctor returned, a small lead box in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Superman," the man said, looking as miserable as
Clark knew he was going to feel in another minute.

"Don't be," Clark said. "It's a necessary evil."

"I'm glad you understand."

"I do."

"Are you ready?" Dr. Klein asked.

Clark rolled his sleeve up as far as the unforgiving Spandex
would allow. "Ready when you are."

Dr. Klein mutely nodded and tied a tourniquet around Clark's
arm. He searched for a moment, looking for an accessible vein,
then swabbed Clark's arm with an alcohol wipe. He let the area
air-dry for a few seconds before flipping open the lid to the
lead box. Clark immediately groaned as the small fragment of
Kryptonite began its savage assault on his body. Weakness and
nausea took him, forcing him to clamp his eyes shut against the
unpleasant sensations he was experiencing.

"This won't take more than half a minute," the doctor promised
him.

Clark felt the sharp jab as the slender needle punctured his
flesh and slid into his vein. Dr. Klein filled a couple of tubes
with Clark's blood, untying the tourniquet when he was close to
finishing. Then he was done, removing the needle and shutting the
lead box. Immediately, Clark felt the microscopic puncture close
up, leaving no trace of the wound behind.

"I'll run this sample myself," Dr. Klein assured him. "No one
else will know about it."

"I appreciate that. If word got out that I might not be up to
snuff..." He shrugged. "The crime organizations would have a
field day, for starters. I don't even want to think beyond
that."

"I completely understand. Let me get this started now. I won't
have results right away, but I'm sure we can figure out some way
for me to get the results to you."

"You can always call Lois or Clark. They know how to contact
me."

Again, the man nodded. "I thought as much."

For several long minutes, Dr. Klein worked with the tubes of
blood, prepping them and getting them in machines that Clark
didn't really understand. He didn't care, so long as his
results came back quickly. Once the doctor was finished, he led
Clark through the halls, to a secluded room to attempt an
echocardiogram. Clark saw only one other doctor as he walked, an
older man by the name of Ted Kensington. He was a good man and
one who Clark trusted. He greeted Clark warmly enough, but asked
no questions about what the Man of Steel was doing at S.T.A.R.
Labs, for which Clark was infinitely grateful.

"This room is about as private as it gets around here," Dr.
Klein said as he closed the door to the tiny procedure room.
"We'll begin with a simple echocardiogram," he explained as he
gathered what he needed and switched on the ultrasound machine.
"I'll need you to remove the top half of your uniform,
please."

Clark did as he was asked. His earlier heart attack had spooked
him severely, so he opted to unzip the Spandex and pull it down
to dangle around his waist at normal, human speed. His cape he
hung on the back of a chair, to prevent it from creasing. Then he
lay on the table and allowed Dr. Klein to conduct the
ultrasound.

*Only a few hours ago, Lois was the one having this procedure
done, *he thought to himself with a mental sigh.

Clark watched the grainy images on the ultrasound machine's
screen as Dr. Klein expertly moved the wand back and forth over
his chest, checking the heart, lungs, and surrounding tissues. He
didn't speak and Clark couldn't tell one blob on the screen
from another. Instead, he lay silent but deeply worried over the
man's silence.

"You can sit up and dress," Dr. Klein said after a while. He
handed Clark a towel to wipe the ultrasound gel off with.

"So...?" Clark prodded, leaving the question open-ended,
hopping the doctor would pick up the hint.

"It's hard to tell for sure," Dr. Klein said.

Clark could sense the unease in his voice as he spoke. Whatever
he'd seen, Dr. Klein was in no rush to say. Clark knew that the
man would attempt to stall for time as he tried to find a way to
say what he needed to.

"Just...tell it to me straight," Clark encouraged him. "I can
handle whatever it is."

"No. It's *literally* hard to tell," Dr. Klein said with a
shake of his head. "The machine isn't powerful enough to
penetrate all the way through. Your molecular mass is too dense,
as I'd feared."

"Will the CAT Scan work?" Clark wondered.

"We can try."

"How soon can we do it?"

"Now, if you have the time," Dr. Klein said, shrugging. "As
you know, we're one of the foremost research labs in the nation.
We have one on the basement level."

Clark nodded. "Let's do it. I'd rather not wait on this."

"Nor I," Dr. Klein agreed.

When Clark was once more fully dressed, they travelled down the
elevator together. The basement air was slightly chillier than
the rest of the building, but Clark didn't mind. It felt
refreshing somehow, like he could breathe a little easier.
Perhaps it was because of the echoing isolation of the
unpopulated floor that set Clark's nerves ever so slightly more
at ease. He was still afraid that someone might see him there and
deduce that Superman was not at his best.

"I'm sorry, Superman, but I need to inject a dye into your
veins," the doctor said apologetically.

"I understand."

"I'll be back in a few minutes."

Dr. Klein whisked out the door, only to return five minutes later
with the box containing the Kryptonite that he'd used earlier to
take Clark's blood. Again, Clark felt the debilitating effects
of the stone as the box's lid was open. Dr. Klein was mercifully
brief with the injection, and before long, Clark was laying in
the machine, the pain from the Kryptonite exposure already
forgotten. He closed his eyes against the flashing lights and
tried to focus his thoughts only on Lois and their unborn son, in
an effort to block out the sounds the scan made as it took images
of his heart.

***

A little over an hour later, Clark left S.T.A.R. Labs, unsure
what to think. He found a secluded spot and changed back into his
civilian clothing, then hailed a cab. The constant and
obnoxiously loud steel drum music blasting from the radio grated
on his nerves for the entire trip back to the Daily Planet, but
he sat in silent reflection. When he finally reached the office
and made it into the bullpen, he was in a daze. He found Lois
easily enough. She was at her desk, leaving a heated message to
some unknown party on the other end.

"Hi," she said, looking him over as if to assure herself that
he was still in one piece. "How'd everything go with Dr.
Klein?"

"Is the bridge collapse story filed yet?" he asked instead.

"Yeah. About ten minutes ago."

"Good. So we're free to go home?"

She nodded slowly, appraising him, concern in her eyes. "Clark,
what is going on? You're scaring me."

"I don't..." he glanced around and grew quiet until Ralph
passed them, reeking of garlic and onions from whatever he'd
eaten for dinner. "I'd rather not talk about it here." It was
simple and the truth, but he also mentally winced at Lois'
rising look of alarm.

"Okay," she said simply, and Clark was grateful that, for once,
she wasn't arguing the point with him. "Let's go."

She grabbed her purse and dug out her keys as Clark followed her
back to the elevators. He was silent, contemplative. He stayed
that way, all the way down to the garage, and all the way back to
their townhouse. Lois was quiet as well, but he could see that it
was eating her alive to hold her tongue. He had to give her
credit though, for managing not to pepper him with questions.

He waited until they were safely in their living room, the door
shut and locked behind them for the night. He flopped wearily
onto the couch, choosing to tuck himself into the corner of it,
rather than command a section more toward the middle, as he
normally would. Lois saw his body language and fearfully mimicked
it.

"Clark..." she began when he didn't speak. "What did Dr.
Klein say?"

He swallowed hard. "Nothing good," he said softly, unable to
muster any strength into his voice.

"How...how bad is it?"

"Bad."

"Clark, please. I need more than one or two word answers here,"
she pleaded.

Clark removed his glasses and set them aside on the coffee table.
He pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought. The whole way
back to the Planet, and then back home, he'd tried to find the
words he'd need to say, and failed.

"Remember last year?" he finally asked. "Remember how I had
to...give up...some of my life-force to save Jimmy?"

"Of course. I was terrified, seeing that machine suck
away...whatever it was...years of your life, your life-force,
however you want to word it."

"And then, about a month later?"

"Deathstroke," she immediately replied.

He nodded in affirmation. "Deathstroke."

"What does...?"

He cut her off before she could ask the question. "Dr. Klein has
a theory. He thinks that those two events, especially so close
together, put a strain on my body. Well, *more* of a strain than
he suspected at the time. That strain, he believes, weakened my
heart."

"And that caused the heart attack?"

"Yes. Again, as far as we can tell."

"When you say 'weakened,' what, *exactly*, does that mean?"
she asked, panic now dripping from her words.

Clark took a breath, steeling himself before he could deliver the
news.

"It means," he finally said, "that my heart has
been...compromised."

"You mean, damaged," she clarified, reading between the lines.

"Yes," he said, dropping his chin to his chest for a moment.

"How bad?"

"Unless I receive a heart transplant, I'll die."

"Die?" Lois asked, swallowing hard. "*Die?* What do you mean,
die? How is that possible? Doesn't your body repair itself?"

"Normally, yes," Clark conceded. "But, Dr. Klein thinks the
damage to my heart hasn't been able to repair itself for a few
reasons. Chief among them...my super-activity. Every race to get
to a rescue. Every bus I've lifted. Every fire I've blown out
with nothing more than a burst of superbreath. Everything has put
wear on the areas that the youth machine and Deathstroke
destroyed, not giving the muscle a chance to heal. As it is, the
heart attack I had this afternoon should have killed me, if I
were a normal person."

"What about if you...took a vacation from being Superman? Would
the rest allow you to heal up?" She reached for him, scooting a
little closer and grabbing his hand, to both take and offer
strength.

Clark ran his thumb over the back of her hand and shook his head.
"I asked the same question. He said I could try, but that it was
highly unlikely to make a difference. I need a transplant, and
soon."

"How long...? I mean, you'll probably be bumped to the top of
the list, right? With how many untold millions you've saved,
I'm sure you'll get top preference, right? If it hadn't been
for you, Nightfall would have knocked this planet into
extinction. I know, I'll write to...whoever it is that handles
these things." She started to rise, as if to make good on her
promises right then and there.

"Lois...no," Clark said gently, stopping her in her tracks, not
releasing her hand.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Writing to...even calling...anyone who handles the national
transplant lists isn't going to help me. I'm different from
everyone else, remember?"

"Yeah..." she said in a guarded manner.

"I'm not compatible with human donors."

"Dr. Klein has been wrong before," she said, a little
defensively in her fear. She used her free hand to rub her
growing belly to emphasize the point.

"This isn't the same," Clark said, biting back his own terror.
"My blood isn't like yours, or anyone else's. The levels of
iron are wrong, for example. My organs aren't the same either.
Even if my body didn't outright reject a human heart, the first
time I tried to fly, or use my super speed, or use my strength,
the heart would explode. No human heart can withstand the stress
that mine does on any given, normal day, to say nothing of the
days when Superman is busy from sunup to sundown."

"He's..." She gulped. "He's certain about this?"

Clark nodded regretfully. "Yes."

"So..." A tear finally spilled from her eyes.
"There's...what? No hope?"

Clark gently wiped away the tear with his finger. "Unless I can
somehow get a Kryptonian heart..." He couldn't finish the
statement.

What he'd managed to say hung in the air like blanket of
invisible smoke, choking them both with its implications.

"Can't you try to...?"

She didn't need to finish. Clark shook his head.

"Contact someone? I've thought of that. I know that Kryptonians
share a telepathic link. But across billions of miles of space?"
He shook his head a second time. "It's not possible."

"You can't know that!"

"I do. When I was with Zara and Ching last year, heading back
toward New Krypton, I asked them about it. I couldn't understand
how or why they'd chosen not to try to contact me before they
landed and concocted all those tests. They said they'd tried,
but the distance had been too great."

"What do we do?" Lois asked, her voice small and lost
sounding.

"I don't know," Clark said, letting her hand go. He sent the
hand raking through his hair as he stood. "I've spent the
afternoon wondering the same thing. I don't know if there's
anything we *can* do." He started to pace the living room,
looking at everything but seeing nothing.

"How long?" Lois asked after several minutes of watching him
pace. "How long do we have to figure out a solution to this
problem?"

Clark stopped his pacing to smile at his wife's determined face.
How was it that she could be so strong, even when he knew that
she, like him, was failing apart inside? And he knew, without a
doubt, that her question hadn't been a false, but brave, show.
She really meant every word, and would never give up until after
Clark was dead and buried. He didn't doubt that either, that he
would die before a solution could be found. His only chance at
life lay billions of miles away, in the stars, completely beyond
his reach. He had no space ship, and would only last twenty or so
minutes in space if he tried to make it on his own. Even if he
took a tank of oxygen with him, it would never last long enough
for him to reach New Krypton, even if he had known the way to get
there.

"What?" Lois asked, seeing his smile.

"Just...you. Your determination. Your fire. It never ceases to
amaze me, even after all these years of knowing you." He stepped
toward her, dropped to his knees, and cupped her cheek in his
hand. "Thank you."

Lois' hand came up to cover his, and he took comfort and
strength from that simple gesture. He turned his head and kissed
her other hand as it came up to cup his own cheek.

"I'm not giving up without a fight," she vowed in a
near-whisper.

"I know. And I'm glad. Because I *cannot* do this on my own."

"Every step of the way," she promised him again. "We *will*
find a way to fix this."

"I wish I could share in that certainty," he admitted. "I'm
trying though."

"So...how long did Dr. Klein say?"

Clark let his hand drop from Lois' soft cheek as he stood and
resumed his spot on the couch. This time, however, he sat nearer
to the middle. Encouraged by his body posture, Lois scooted
closer to him, snuggling into his side. He put his arm around her
waist and rested his hand against the side of her stomach.

"He's not sure. Months, weeks, days...he can't really tell.
His guess is weeks, and that's if I stop most, if not all, of my
super activity."

"And if you don't?" He could almost taste the dread in those
words.

"Probably days, if I'm lucky," he said, dropping his eyes to
the carpet while he spoke.

"Oh, God," Lois said, turning white.

"That's why I didn't fly back to the Planet," he said. "I'm
going to do whatever it takes to stop using my powers, as
difficult as that is going to be. I don't *want* to die, Lois."
He couldn't stop the fear from tainting his words.

"You won't," Lois said with sudden decisiveness. "Just look
at how much we've gone through, Clark. We always find a way to
make it through the bad and come out the other side."

"This is different."

"Different, yes. But not impossible. There has to be something
we can do. Can Dr. Klein repair the damage your heart has already
suffered?"

Clark couldn't bring himself to say so, but to his ears, Lois
sounded more like she was trying to convince herself that there
was hope than she was him.

"No," he said, hanging his head a bit. "He said he'd try to
figure out an alternative to a transplant, but he's not hopeful.
There's hope, in the medical community, about growing organs one
day from stem cells, but we are a long, long way from that."

"What..." Lois said, thinking. "What about my father?"

"What about him?" Clark asked warily.

"Maybe we should talk to him about this. He's always been an
out-of-the-box thinker. Remember how he saved your life when you
had that Kryptonian virus? That wasn't exactly a normal,
accepted treatment that he used. Besides, he's an accomplished
doctor."

"I don't know, Lois," Clark said haltingly.

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, he'd have to be let back in on our secret," he
said, standing and pacing to the windows, feeling the primal need
to move, as though it could distance him from his problems.

"He knew it once, last year, when we wanted his expertise on our
fertility concerns," she reminded him.

Clark leaned against the windowsill, half standing and half
sitting. "Yeah, and when that memory gizmo...that
Bummer-Be-Gone, I think it was called...took that memory from
him, he was a much happier man. Do we really want to do that to
him again? It's enough that Dr. Klein is going to have to be let
in on things."

"You're going to tell him?" she asked looking slightly
shocked.

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't see a choice. At some point,
I'm probably going to be in the hospital. I can't go as Clark
if he's expecting Superman. And if I go as Superman, I can't
have Clark Kent's distraught wife at my bedside. He needs to
know, so that we can work something out."

"Good point," she agreed, though Clark could tell from her
facial expression that she wasn't thrilled with the idea.
"I'll go with you, whenever you decide to tell him. But I still
don't think it would be the worst thing in the world if we had
my father collaborate with Dr. Klein."

Clark took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he considered.
"I don't know..."

"He's a surgeon, Clark. If somehow he or Dr. Klein can figure
out some...I don't know...some kind of machine or something to
put inside of you to help your heart, isn't it better if the
person who does the surgery is someone that you can trust, one
hundred percent?"

Clark opened his mouth to argue, but found no argument on his
tongue. "I guess it could have its benefits," he admitted. He
threw his head back to stare at the ceiling. "God, this morning,
all I wanted to know was that my baby was healthy. And now...I'm
not even sure I'll get to see him take his first breath."

"Clark," Lois said, rising from the couch to stand by his side,
but he shrugged away from her touch.

"I'm sorry, Lois," was all he could say. "I just...I think I
need some time, to process this. As it is, Dr. Klein would prefer
if I was under hospital supervision starting now, just to be
certain that help is at hand, should I need it."

"So, what did you tell him?"

"That I needed to take care of some things first, before I could
commit myself to any kind of hospital stay."

She nodded understandingly. "I guess there *are* quite a few
things to get in order before we can even think about a hospital
stay."

"*If* I go," Clark added.

"Clark!" she said in a warning tone.

"Lois, I don't want my last days spent in a hospital room," he
replied, crossing the room again to gaze into her fish tank. A
bright pink tetra swam by, oblivious to the man standing less
than a foot away. "I want to spend them here, with you."

"But, Clark, if something..."

"Were to happen?" he asked, cutting her off. "What can they do
for me at the hospital?"

"They can keep you alive!" she argued, getting slightly
heated.

"To what end? I *need* a transplant, Lois. But unless a miracle
happens, there is no way that I can get one."

"We'll see about that," she replied, her tone indicating that
she was done arguing the point. She crossed back to the small end
table by the couch and picked up the phone.

"What are you doing?" Clark asked, straightening up from where
he'd been bent over, leaning on the tank with a forearm.

"Calling my father," Lois answered.

"Lo-is!"

"No, Clark," she said stubbornly, shaking her head at the same
time. "I'm calling him and he's going to help us, just like he
did the last time you were sick. I can't lose you, Clark." She
started to stab the numbers on the dial pad with her finger. "I
may not be able to donate an organ or blood to you, but I can, at
the very least, get you the very best care out there. And that
includes my father, as well as Dr. Klein." Tears had since begun
to leak out from the corners of her eyes. "Hi, Daddy?"

Clark felt miserable. He'd always done his best to shield Lois
from all the hurts of the world. He'd sworn an oath to himself
that, at the very least, he would never make her cry, unless they
were tears of happiness. But now she stood there, just across the
living room, speaking on the phone, wiping tears from her eyes as
her voice cracked while she asked Sam Lane to come to Metropolis
as soon as possible.

Heart aching with hurt for Lois, Clark went to her. He drew her
into his arms and gently pulled her to the couch while she evaded
the specifics of whatever Sam's questions were. Clark wasn't
even trying to hear what Sam was saying. He didn't want to use
any of his powers. But more importantly, Lois' phone call was
bringing up some very important things for him to consider.

What would he tell Sam? How could he, for the second time, prove
to his father-in-law that Superman was nothing more than an
average Joe -- Clark Kent, in a Spandex unitard and a cape? He
didn't doubt Sam's ability to keep a secret. If he had, he
never would have turned to the man back when he and Lois had
thought themselves to be infertile.

What would he tell his own parents? How could he break their
hearts by telling them that the son who'd fallen from the skies
to mend their broken hearts so long ago was now dying? How could
he rip apart the lives and hearts of two of the gentlest, most
loving people on the planet? What words could he use, knowing
none would lessen the blow?

And Dr. Klein? He'd been leading the man on for years that Clark
Kent and Superman, two men the doctor had worked extraordinarily
close with, were two separate people. Of course, Clark had
deceived the entire world into believing the exact same thing,
but he'd always felt badly about withholding the full truth from
the man who was responsible for helping Clark maintain his
health.

Then there was Jimmy and Perry, two of his closest friends in the
world. What would he tell them? Sure, he could give them vague
information about his condition, but they would want to visit him
in the hospital, if it came down to that, and he didn't just die
in the shower or something. How could he politely, but firmly,
tell them that they could not come to visit? That he didn't want
them to see him like that?

Clark's head was swimming and he felt sick to his stomach. He'd
met a fellow traveler once, when he was in Nepal, whose view on
life was that from the moment a person was born, they began to
die, and that all of life was nothing more than borrowed time.
Clark had been appalled at the man's pessimism. But now the
phrase "borrowed time" kept ringing in his head like a death
knell. He could feel precious seconds slipping away from him,
could feel Death peering over his shoulder, waiting to take him.

*No!* he thought violently. *I can't give up. I can't think
this way. For Lois' sake, I can't think this way. I can't
leave her last memories of and with me with me brooding over the
inevitable. I know we've always lived our lives knowing that at
any moment, my life could end -- some criminal with a piece of
Kryptonite or a rescue gone wrong that I can't get out of. But
to wither away and die?* *I never thought it would come to this.
I have to keep a brave face for Lois. She has enough to deal with
right now, growing our son in her womb. I want her to have only
happy memories of the two of us together, especially in our final
days together. I want to believe her when she says that we'll
find a way to save me, but even I, the one who can usually find
the sunny side, can't even begin to imagine how that might come
to pass.*

"Clark? Honey?"

"Huh?" Clark asked, snapping out of his thoughts.

"My father said he can get here in two days."

"Two days..." Clark mused.

"He broke a tooth and has to get it fixed tomorrow." She
shrugged. "That's my family for you."

"It's okay, Lois," he said, trying to ease her annoyance with
her father's priorities. "He doesn't know the reason why
we're asking him to come. I can wait. Trust me."

She nuzzled herself into his chest even closer. "I'm scared,
Clark."

He gently wrapped his arms around her even tighter than before.
"I know. I am too."

"What are we going to do?" After her earlier bravado, it was
almost comforting, in an odd way, that she was allowing herself
to show her vulnerability.

"Whatever we can," he answered simply, because he had no other
words to offer. "Whatever we can."

***

"Everyone, please, sit," Lois said as Jonathan poured drinks
for himself and Martha.

Sam looked up from the cheese platter, a cube of sharp cheddar
impaled by a toothpick between his fingers. A crease of concern
rippled on his brow.

"What's going on?" he asked, gesturing for Ellen to take the
chair before him while he seated himself on the edge of the
coffee table.

Clark reflected, briefly, on how nice it was to see the two
getting along. When he'd first met Lois, the word "war"
hadn't been sufficient enough to describe their relationship.
But ever since Superman had nearly died that one strange
Christmas season, the Lanes had begun to mend the wounds they'd
inflicted on each other, as well as the ones they'd caused their
children.

Jonathan and Martha shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Clark
and Lois had both spoken to them at length about letting Sam and
Ellen in on the secret, the two of them having dropped everything
to take a red-eye flight to Metropolis the day before, after
Clark had told them about his health issues. Clark had wanted to
fly them in himself, but Dr. Klein's warning about using his
powers had rung in his ears and chilled him to his very soul. To
use his powers, especially in some grand fashion, would put even
more stress on his heart, which could very well be fatal.

"There are some things that we needed to talk to you about,"
Clark said, addressing Sam and Ellen from his place on the couch.
He snaked his arm around Lois' waist for the support having her
right next to him gave him.

"What kind of things?" Sam asked, sounding a bit concerned.

"Good and bad things," Lois said. "First...the good. We had
our in-depth ultrasound the other day. Our son is completely
healthy."

"It's a boy?" Sam asked, eyes sparkling in delight. "That's
wonderful news!"

"A girl would have been just as wonderful," Ellen put in, not
bothering to hide the snark in her voice.

"I never said it wouldn't have been," Sam grumbled under his
breath, but the exchange lacked the venom it had once carried,
back when Clark had first met the divorced couple.

"A son! How fantastic, Clark," Jonathan said, beaming with
pride for his grown boy. "Your mother and I are *thrilled*."

"Thank you," Clark said, dipping his head in acknowledgement.

"About time too," Ellen put it. "I always said you should have
kids earlier, rather than later, while you still have the energy
to keep up with them."

"*Anyway*," Lois said, steering the conversation back to where
it needed to be, "we wanted you all to know. We're very
excited."

"We're still working on names," Clark said, seeing the
unspoken question on his mother's face. "But, once we figure it
out, we'll let you know."

*In the future*, Clark thought to himself, his heart heavy in his
chest. *A future I no longer have. Not without a miracle. And
with this child -- this half human, half Kryptonian miracle -- on
his way, I think I've used up my lifetime's quota of
miracles.*

"And the bad news is...?" Sam prompted as Clark brooded. "Are
you high risk? Carrying multiples? What?"

"No," Lois said. "I'm fine. The baby is fine. And very much
alone in there. But believe me, multiples would have been a
blessing. Especially given...everything..." She gestured
futilely. Neither Sam nor Ellen remembered that Clark's unique
DNA had been a cause to fear that they would never have any
children at all. Nor could had they ever known about the denial
they'd been handed when they'd looked into adoption.

"It has nothing to do with our son," Clark said, covering for
Lois when it appeared that she was at a loss for words.
"It's...me." He dropped his gaze to the carpet. "I'm...I'm
sick."

"Sick?" Ellen asked. "Sick how? You look well enough to me."

"Clark's..." Lois had to stop and take a deep breath before
continuing.

"It's my heart," Clark said, stepping in when he saw his wife
struggling. "It's basically destroyed. Without a transplant,
I'll die."

*Saying it so many times still hasn't made it any easier to get
the words out,* he mused.

"My God," Sam said, mouth agape. "Why...how...you're so
young!" he stammered.

"It's a little complicated," Clark said, still not able to
meet anyone's eyes.

"How complicated can it be?" Ellen asked. "My girlfriend
Maribel's husband Joe had heart problems. He went on the
transplant list and got a new heart. He's fine now. I think
he's running a marathon this fall."

"There are...things...that make it more complicated for me,"
Clark repeated.

"You're young, you don't smoke or drink to excess, and you're
a valued member of society," Sam cut in. "You should get on the
list without any problems. Anybody like you would."

"Any *normal* person," Clark agreed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" his in-laws said almost
completely in tandem.

"It means...that Clark and I have something to tell you," Lois
said, putting a hand on Clark's back and rubbing soothing
circles there. "Something big."

"Something...big?" Sam repeated, the furrow in his brow
deepening by the second.

"Huge," Lois said.

"It's a dangerous secret," Jonathan put in. "Something that,
if it got out, would destroy all of us, not just Clark."

"I see," Sam said, though it was clear that he didn't.

"It's something that *has* to stay just between us," Clark
said, mentally pleading with his in-laws to understand the
gravity of the situation.

"You can't even tell Lucy," Lois added. "She's not exactly
the epitome of discretion, most of the time, at least."

"Well, for God's sake, spit it out!" Ellen encouraged, looking
at her daughter.

"The thing is...I *can't* have a transplant," Clark said.
"Because my body...isn't compatible with that of a human
being."

"Huh?"

"What?"

"Please, Mom, Dad, promise us, that no matter what, you'll
never breathe a word of what Clark and I are about to tell
you."

"Yes, yes," Ellen said dismissively waving her hand at the
stipulations.

"I'm not compatible with humans," Clark repeated. "I can't
get a transplant in the usual way. Because, the truth is, I've
lied to you. Every day, I lie to the entire world. I'm *not* a
human being. I'm from the planet Krypton. And, although I *am*
Clark Kent, I masquerade as Superman. He's just...an extension
of myself, a disguise I use in order to help people." He removed
his glasses and set them aside, allowing them to -- he hoped --
see the familiar face of the alien superhero.

"That's not...it's..." Sam stammered.

"It *is*," Lois insisted. "*He* is."

"I can prove it," Clark said. He pointed to a candle in the
middle of the coffee table. "Watch."

He'd known all along that he would have to prove his claim of
being Superman. He'd thought long and hard about what he could
safely do to show that he wasn't lying to them. He couldn't
risk a spin change or flying, fearing that it would consume too
much energy to do so, thereby putting unnecessary strain on his
heart. Carefully, he sent a thin beam of his heat vision at the
wick. For a moment, it smoked, then a bright flame burst into
existence.

"That's ah..." Sam sputtered, seemingly unable to get anything
else verbalized.

"I know," Clark said, nodding his head once in agreement.

"A parlor trick, no more than that," Ellen mumbled, as if
trying to convince herself.

"And this?" Clark asked gently.

He picked up one of their steak knives, which he'd placed nearby
in case Sam and Ellen had needed further persuasion. With a swift
thrust, he brought the blade down on the bare flesh of his arm,
point downward in an effort to stab himself. The sharpened steel
struck his skin, buckled, bent, then finally snapped, leaving not
so much as an indentation in his arm.

"That...is a little harder to explain," Ellen admitted. Clark
could see that she knew the knife was very real. After all, it
had come from the set Lois had owned before they'd gotten
married and purchased a newer set of cutlery for themselves.

"Mom, it's true," Lois said in a gentle voice. "Clark wasn't
born on Earth. He *is* Superman."

Ellen pinched the bridge of her nose, as if warding off a
headache. "*Of course* you would marry an alien," she mumbled
under her breath. Then, looking at Jonathan and Martha, she
added, "Uh...no offense."

"Clark's DNA might not be human," Lois defended, "but he's
more human than anyone else I've ever known."

"And you felt this wasn't something you should share with us?"
Ellen accused, though wearily.

"Actually, you did know, once," Clark said. "Sam, you remember
Misha?"

Sam nodded. "Sure. We haven't spoken in...I don't know...a
year?"

"He had that Bummer-Be-Gone machine," Clark reminded him.

"Yeah..."

"Well, it worked. It hit all of you, when Lois and I were
getting Dr. Mensa back under control. It took away your memory of
knowing my...*our* secret."

"Uh...oh," Sam said, sounding as though he was struggling to
bring that memory forward but failing.

"Trust us," Lois said, seeing his inner struggle.

"So...why now?" Ellen asked.

"Why are we telling you?" Lois asked. "Because we need your
help."

"We need people we can trust," Clark added. "My doctors at
S.T.A.R. Labs are working on trying to find an alternative to a
transplant for me. I thought they might be able to use the help
of another brilliant doctor as they work on saving my life. And,
if they are able to figure something out, I need a surgeon that I
can trust implicitly. An experienced nurse would be invaluable as
well," he said, looking at Ellen.

"I'm not a cardiac surgeon though," Sam said gently.

"I know," Clark said, nodding. "But even so, I need people I
can trust, if I ever make it into the operating room."

"Please," Martha said, pleadingly, "you saved my boy once.
Please save him again."

Sam took a breath and exhaled it slowly, buying himself some time
to think, Clark thought. "I'll do whatever I can," he finally
said, his words an oath.

"Me too," Ellen put in.

Clark let out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding
inside. "Thank you. I'll get you in contact with Dr. Klein,
first thing tomorrow."

As relieved as Clark was to hear that the two were on his side,
it did nothing to uncoil the cold knot of fear that lay buried
deep in his guts. And, judging from the way Lois was gripping his
arm, he knew she felt the same way.

"Thank you," she said to her parents. "You don't know what
this means to Clark...or to me."

"We're happy to help, Princess," Sam said, giving her an
encouraging smile.

"So...I don't get it," Ellen said, sweeping her gaze back to
Clark. "You're an alien. But you go around pretending to be a
human."

"Perhaps it's best if Martha and I explain," Jonathan said,
sitting forward in his seat a little.

Together, Clark's parents launched into the tale of how they'd
found their miracle son, the answer to their prayers, late one
warm May evening, out in a field when they'd seen what they'd
thought was a meteor come crashing to the Earth. They spoke of
how they'd raised him as their own, how they'd never questioned
that he had been meant for them and them alone -- a parentless
child meant to mend the broken hearts of two childless farmers.
Clark listened as they recounted how the three of them had come
to terms with the fact that he was unlike anyone else, how his
powers had manifested, and how he'd learned to control them. He
added very little to the story, until it was time for him to
reveal how he'd decided to take on the separate persona of
Superman, in order to use his abilities to do some good, while
protecting his privacy so that he could lead a normal life --
something he'd desperately needed the moment he'd met and
fallen in love with Lois.

For their part, Sam and Ellen were mostly quiet, asking only the
occasional question to clarify what Clark and his parents were
saying. When the tale was finally finished, the clock softly
chimed. Lois' parents looked dumbstruck and even a little
speechless. Ellen's mouth hung slack and Sam seemed to hardly
blink. Clark softly cleared his throat.

"I know it's a lot to process," he said as he steepled his
fingers before him. "And I know that I probably come off as a
liar...what with living two lives, deceiving the entire world."

"It makes sense," Sam said, sounding dazed but coming around
slowly. "I can't say I would have done things differently. But
the real question remains. What can we do to save you?"

Clark shook his head. "I wish I knew."

***

"Lois! Clark!" Dr. Klein greeted them both, in a tone that was
a mixture of relief, terror, surprise, and exhaustion.

He stood clumsily and stumbled over to where they stood in the
doorframe of his office. He led them in and pulled two chairs
over for them to sit on, before returning to his desk and
dragging his stool around to sit before them.

"What brings you two in? Because I have to tell you, I'm up to
my eyeballs here in research and testing. I'm not sure I can
help you with whatever story you two are working on. But I'm
sure Marty can."

"We know you're busy," Clark said.

"Marty?" Lois asked at the same time.

Dr. Klein nodded. "My nephew. He's fresh out of school. Just
started here at the beginning of the month, but smart as a whip.
Hang on a second. I'll call him for you."

"*No!*" Lois and Clark said with one voice.

Dr. Klein froze instantly, his hand outstretched toward his
phone. He gave them a quizzical look. Clark stood, shut the door
to the office, and sat down again.

"We need to talk," Lois said.

"I wish I could. Believe me. But I've been working day and
night on...well, a project."

"For Superman," Clark filled in. "We know."

"Ah, I see he told you."

"Not exactly," Clark said, fidgeting.

"Not exactly? Look, I consider you guys friends, but I'm sure
you're aware that Superman is counting on me to come up with
something...some solution...to his situation as quickly as
possible." The edge to the man's voice made him sound nearly
hysterical from the stress Clark knew he must be feeling.

"We know all about his situation, and how dire it is," Lois
said.

"That's why we've come," Clark said.

A timer buzzed. Dr. Klein held up one finger as he stood. Clark
watched as he crossed the office and checked on something in a
glass container, that Clark couldn't quite see from his angle.
He was tempted to use his super abilities, but restrained
himself. It was a constant struggle that he faced, to make the
conscious decision *not* to use his powers. He was so used to
using them on a whim -- to heat his coffee, to blow out the
cigarette of someone who insisted on lighting up in non-smoking
areas, to read a file at super speed while at work. But most of
all, he missed the sensation of flying, even just floating above
the couch while watching television at night. That had always
been his favorite ability, ever since it had manifested shortly
after his eighteenth birthday.

"No. No, no, no, no, no," Dr. Klein muttered as he ran whatever
test it was that he was doing. His body was in the way,
preventing Clark from even being able to guess.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

Dr. Klein huffed in annoyance before putting his back to the
container. He sat heavily on his stool, pulled off his glasses,
and rubbed his tired eyes.

"Another failure," he said, more for his own benefit than for
Lois or Clark's.

"What happened?" Lois pressed. "Something you've been working
on for Superman?"

"Unfortunately, yes," he admitted. "But so far, in the last
three days, nothing I've done has looked promising." He paused
a moment, blinking. Then, as though he'd forgotten why they'd
come to him, he spoke again. "I'm sorry. You were saying
something? That you came for something?"

Clark nodded. "Anything I tell you is strictly confidential,
isn't it?"

"Well, I'm not exactly your doctor or anything, but, sure.
I'll keep anything you say in confidence."

"Good. Because, the truth is...there's something I haven't
told you. Something that...is relevant, to the stuff you're
working on for Superman."

"Oh?" he asked, perking up a little in sudden interest in the
two reporters before him. "Does Superman know whatever this
might be?"

Clark chuckled. "He does. Or, rather, *I* do."

He removed his glasses and undid the first few buttons on his
dress shirt, just enough to pull the material apart to reveal the
S shield and blue suit beneath. For a moment, no reaction
registered on Dr. Klein's face, save for a look of utter
confusion. Then, slowly, it seemed to dawn on the man. His
demeanor changed. Confusion gave way to shock. Weariness melted
away as his eyes widened and his mouth opened up into a small O.

"Are you telling me...?"

"I am, Dr. Klein. It's all true. He and I are one and the
same."

For a long moment, Dr. Klein studied the face before him, saying
nothing. Then, finally, "My, God. I mean, I always knew you were
close...and it always felt like Lois was closer to Superman than
a mere friend...but this..." His voice trailed off. He looked
pointedly at Lois' belly after a moment. "But that would
mean..."

Lois smiled warmly as her hand fluttered to her stomach. "That
you were wrong."

"For the first time, I am thrilled to hear that," the doctor
said, returning the smile.

"I'm sorry that I lied to you," Clark said, bring the
conversation back on track. "But up until now, it was safer for
you and me both for this secret to stay hidden." He put his
glasses back on and began to button up his shirt once more. "It
was never really relevant to the care you provided me either.
Until now. If we're able to figure out some method of fixing my
heart, we're going to need full disclosure with one another.
I'll need to be checked into the hospital under my own name, or
assume an alias, because it *cannot* be known that Superman is
dying. Nor can Clark Kent's wife be allowed to be seen in
Superman's room at random hours of the day, or waiting for word
if Superman goes into surgery."

Dr. Klein nodded. "That would be bad."

"It would be *catastrophic*," Lois corrected him. "Not only
for Clark, but for everyone he's close to. Even if the worst
were to happen, if anyone made the connection that Clark is
Superman, his loved ones would still be in peril. Especially his
son."

Dr. Klein nodded and made a small grunt of agreement. "Good
point. So...what do you need from me?"

"I'm glad you asked," Clark said, giving him a smile.
"Here's what I'm thinking. You can tell me if what I've come
up with isn't possible."

"Sounds fair."

"Well, assuming we find some way of repairing or replacing my
heart, I'll need to check into the hospital as Clark. A team of
nurses can be assigned to my room, whatever we need to do with
that, depending on how long I'll need to be at the hospital.
When it's time for the surgery, I've handpicked one of the
doctors I'd like to be in the room, who can smuggle in
Kryptonite, should we need it."

"And that is...?"

"My father-in-law. Doctor Sam Lane."

"The sports guy?" came the incredulous reply, looking at Lois,
rather than Clark. "He's your father?"

Lois nodded. "He is. And he's looking forward to working with
you."

"So do I. I mean, he's a legend in the world of sports
medicine. Even without the whole robotic replacement parts
scandal from a few years back. Tell him to swing by tonight.
I'll gather all of Superman's files together for him, so he can
have a look at the history."

"That sounds great," Clark said, struck, still, by how calmly
Dr. Klein had taken to the revelation that Clark and Superman
were the same man. "So, can I ask? How are things looking so
far? I realize, of course, that there hasn't been too much time
to test things."

Dr. Klein shook his head, and all of his prior weariness seemed
to settle back over him, like a thick black cloak. "Not well,
I'm afraid. I've been testing -- well, stressing -- all of the
usual fixes in what is a poor approximation of what your body
undergoes any time you use your abilities. All have failed
miserably within seconds. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. This isn't your fault," Clark assured him.

If it was possible, Dr. Klein's mood darkened further. "I
should have seen this coming," he lamented.

"Hey," Clark said, standing and touching the man on his
shoulder. "No one could have known. *I* didn't even suspect
that anything was wrong, until the other day."

"I'm your doctor," Dr. Klein argued.

"And I am a complete biological anomaly," Clark reminded him
with a grin. "Normal isn't normal for me. Even if we'd been
looking for damage, chances are, we wouldn't have found
anything."

"I suppose that's true," the doctor grudgingly agreed. "How
are you feeling otherwise?"

"So far, since that one attack, I've been feeling okay. Like my
usual self, to be honest. The worst part has been forcing myself
to not use my powers."

*That, and the constant feeling like I have an axe hanging above
my head, which could fall at any moment.*

***

Days turned into weeks. Most of the time, Clark felt perfectly
healthy. He went to work, he cooked meals, he made slow and
careful love to Lois. But in the back of his mind, he was always
aware of his situation. In the dead of the night, he would
awaken, lay in bed, and think about his health. In those still,
quiet hours, he could hear the sands of his life slipping between
his fingers, knowing that all too soon, the last grain would
fall.

This was one of those nights.

Clark lay in bed, the sheets around him cool as a night breeze
blew in through the windows. He looked at the bedside clock --
4:09 am. Without warning, his sensitive hearing kicked into
action. It was a police scanner. He listened for a moment,
yearning to slip into his suit and dart out to help. A drive by
shooting, he could hear. Four dead. Seven in critical condition.
Several more with minor injuries.

He sighed. It sounded like the police and EMS had the situation
completely under control. But he missed the action, the thrill of
being there, in the thick of things, helping to save lives. He
knew he should be trying to enjoy his time away from his
superhero alter-ego. But he couldn't. As much as he loved
spending every waking moment with Lois, and being able to give
her his undivided attention, he felt like an entire half of his
soul was missing.

It wasn't a vacation for him. It was torture.

After another moment, he gave a heavy sigh of regret and forced
himself to sever the connection with the police scanner. Then he
was getting up out of bed and throwing on a soft pair of sleep
shorts and a sleeveless muscle t-shirt. Quiet as he could, he
crept out of the bedroom and down the steps. He tried to watch
some television, but at that forsaken hour of the night, he found
not much more than infomercials. He clicked the television off
again and tossed the remote to the far side of the couch.

He stood and wandered the living room, committing the place to
memory, though he already knew by heart every nook and cranny of
the home he'd made with Lois. When he got to the desk, he
grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, then headed out into their
meager backyard, by way of the kitchen. His bare feet made only
the barest slapping sounds on the kitchen's freshly mopped
tiles, and no sound at all on the closely cropped and bedewed
grass. He sat down in one of the lawn chairs and looked up at the
stars, though the lights of Metropolis made it difficult to see
many of them.

He ached to be able to fly up into that void between the stars
and Earth, to be away from the noise and confusion of the world.
He yearned for the cold, silent space he'd always retreated to
when he was feeling down, or overwhelmed, or wanted to physically
be as alone as he felt. The stillness of that place had always
been there, a reliable retreat which never failed helped him to
order his thoughts or quiet his turbulent emotions.

With Lois in his life, he'd needed that refuge less and less.
She was his rock, his shelter in the storm that was his life. In
her arms, his fears and anxieties grew less. In her kisses, his
aloneness disappeared. In her voice, his world grew still and
ordered again.

But now, even Lois could not quell the terror within -- that of
facing his mortality.

He wondered, for a time, how Zara and Ching were faring back on
New Krypton. Had their subjects taken well to the news that
Ching, common born though he was, was their new ruler? Had the
noble houses rebelled? When they had left Earth after Clark had
defeated Nor, it had seemed like at least a portion of the
nobility had come to accept and embrace that Clark had handed
over his right to rule to Ching, and that Zara had been in love
with the former lieutenant. And he wished, not for the first
time, that he had a way to contact them, for he knew in his heart
that his salvation lay with them. He had little to no hope that
Sam and Dr. Klein could fabricate some Earthly fix for his
heart.

After a time, he pulled his eyes from the night sky and stared
blankly at the clean, unmarked sheet at the top of the pad. He
picked up the pen, clicked it, then tapped the end against his
jaw as he thought. Finally, with bold strokes, he began to write,
the moonlight more than enough for his alien eyes to see by.

*My Dear Son,*

*Let me start by saying that, though you are not yet born, I am
already so proud of you, and I love you with my whole heart and
soul. The day that I found out that you were on your way, I shed
tears of happiness. It was, simply put, the greatest news I'd
ever received in my entire life. One day, I hope you are able to
understand just what a miracle you are -- a child of two worlds,
born of a love which has truly seemed to conquer all.*

*My greatest desire is to see you grow up -- to watch you take
your first breath, to hear your first laugh, to see your first
smile. I want to see you learn to talk, to teach you how to read,
to show you how to drive a car and see you off on your first
date. I don't know if that can or will happen, but I promise
you, I will try. I can, at least, promise you that.*

*Even if I am still around as you grow older, I want to offer
these words to you. I speak from experience. Trust me when I say
that these are important things to remember.*

*Always be kind and helpful if you can. Even in small ways. You
never know how much a person might need or appreciate the door
that you hold open for them, or the listening ear that you lend.
Even a smile can change a person's day.*

*Do what makes you happy. Don't become the CEO of a company just
for the money if, in your heart, you'll be happiest by being a
school teacher. As cliche as it sounds, if you love what you do,
you'll never work a day in your life. And your passion will
shine through, making whatever it is you've done be something of
quality. I consider myself lucky, in that I have always enjoyed
my work, especially at the Daily Planet.*

*Find the person who makes you happy. Don't ever settle for
someone, just because they are there -- you are worth far more
than whatever you think you have to settle for. Find the one who
completes your heart and soul, the person you can trust fully and
be completely open and honest with. If you have any doubts about
a person, chances are, they aren't right for you. You'll know
when you find "the one."*

*Your family will always, always be there for you, no matter
what. There may be times when you feel alone, that no one
understands you, but your family will be there. Turn to them.
Take strength from them. Know that they will always love you,
fully and without reservation. *

*Remember, always, how very special you are. You are unique.
Never let anyone make you feel inferior to them. But never forget
that you are not superior to them either, regardless of what you
may be able to do. If it turns out that you have inherited any of
my abilities, please, stay humble. Powers do not make you better
than anyone else. If anything, powers demand discipline and
control, as well as a respect for those who live day to day
without their benefit.*

*Be the kind of man who people respect, but who also feel
comfortable to be around. Be friendly to everyone. You never know
when you'll make a lifelong friend. Cherish those people and be
there for them when they need you, even if they say they
don't.*

*Have a love for life and learning. Nourish your inner child.
Laugh deeply and often. Let the bad roll off your shoulders.
Forgive people. Forgive yourself. Make mistakes and learn from
them.*

*Most of all, know and remember that your mother and I love you.
Before you were conceived, we wanted you and were willing to do
anything to have you. As soon as we knew you were coming, we fell
in love with you. For as long as we live, we will love you, we
will be there for you, we will be proud of you. Greatness lies
ahead of you. There is no doubt in my mind that you will attain
it. You don't even need to don a disguise or a cape to do so.
Just be the best man that you can be.*

*I love you, my son.*

*Dad*

Clark finished the letter and read it over, satisfied with what
he'd written. In his heart though, there was more that he wanted
to say, but he was having a hard time verbalizing his emotions.
It was difficult for him to envision his son growing up without
him. He knew, of course, that the boy would have more love and
support in his life than he would ever know what to do with. But
a kid needed his father as much as he needed his mother and
extended family. And Clark knew that it would be a miracle if his
son ever got to know him, outside of stories and photographs.

Gently, he tore the paper from the pad and set it aside. Once
again, he set his pen to the paper and crafted two more letters.
The first he wrote to Perry, the second to Jimmy. It was his
intention that they should never know that he was Superman, but,
he also wanted to leave them with an explanation, in his own
words, if they should ever stumble upon the truth somehow. Perry,
at the very least, Clark could imagine putting the pieces
together. In fact, there had been numerous occasions when the
grizzled old editor had said something or given him some look
which had suggested that he might suspect the truth. Of course,
Clark had always feigned being completely oblivious to the man's
cues, not wishing to blow his cover if Perry didn't actually
suspect anything, and not wanting to confirm anything if the man
did.

He set the letters aside, just as he had with the one he'd
written to his still nameless son. For a long while, he stared at
the blank white paper of the pad, debating with himself. Then he
began a fourth letter. In this one, he poured out his emotions to
Lois, wanting to leave behind some tangible reminder of his love
for her. Of the four letters, it was both the easiest and the
hardest one for him to write. It was also the longest and most
gut-wrenching for him. By the end, a few silver tears had raced
down his cheeks, only for him to wipe them away before they could
drip from his chin to stain the paper he was looking at.

Finished with his task and feeling emotionally drained, Clark
left the backyard. Back through the house he went, stopping only
to wipe his bare feet thoroughly before entering the house, then
to rummage through the desk in the living room to find a few
envelopes. He addressed them in his same neat printing, then
sealed them tightly. He took them back into the bedroom and hid
them in the back of his sock drawer, where he was certain Lois
wouldn't find them until the time was right.

He stripped out of his sleep shorts and shirt, which had become
damp from the night dew that had clung coolly to everything
outside, then climbed back under the covers. Lois was curled in a
nearly fetal position on her side of the bed. Clark couldn't
help but to place a reverent kiss on her upturned and bare
shoulder. She stirred sleepily and woke.

"Clark?" she asked in a sleep-fogged voice.

"Ssh. I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep," he
whispered.

Lois forced herself to flip over so that she was now facing him.
She yawned mightily and propped herself up on one elbow. Clark
did the same, facing her, but he did not turn on any lights. Dawn
would be lightening the sky soon enough, and the streetlights
threw enough to see by in the otherwise dark room.

"Where have you been?" Lois asked.

"I couldn't sleep. I went downstairs for a while."

"I figured as much. Your skin feels cool though," she said,
rubbing his muscular upper arm.

"I sat out back for a while. I just needed to be outside for a
bit. It's a beautiful night," he explained, not wanting to get
into the full details.

"You miss it -- the late night patrols," Lois offered.

Clark nodded. "I do."

"I'm sorry. I know this is hard on you."

"It's just so frustrating," he confided. "I hear these cries
for help and I can't answer them, even though I know I can be
there in seconds and save lives."

"I know," she said, still rubbing his arm in an attempt to
impart some comfort. "I know how it's tearing you apart. I
would feel the same, in your shoes."

"I know. You're a lot like me, with your need to fix things,
with your inability to be satisfied to sit on the sidelines.
It's one of the many,* many* reasons why I love you."

"Funny, because it's one of the things that I love about
*you*," she countered with a smile that morphed into a slight
yawn.

"I just...I wonder. People are starting to talk. Superman
hasn't been seen since the bridge collapse. There's been
whispers...some people think he's abandoned us mere Earthlings.
Like he did when he left for New Krypton. But at least then, he
gave the world an explanation for his absence."

"So...you think he needs to make a public statement?" she
asked, looking more alert now.

"I don't know," Clark admitted, shaking his head. "I've been
thinking about it. But I'm not even sure what I could say,
without it being a barefaced lie." He brushed a lock of her
tousled hair back from her forehead.

Lois grabbed his hand before he could pull it back to his side of
the bed. Gently, she kissed his open palm. Clark slid his eyes
shut, savoring the sensation of her soft lips brushing across the
sensitive skin of his hand. It was moments like these that
allowed him to forget, for a time, his troubles and all of the
bad things in the world that he saw on a regular basis. Lois put
his very soul at ease.

Too soon, the moment was over.

"You can't let people know you're sick," Lois said after a
moment.

"No, I can't. Remember last time, when that virus hit me? The
criminal underworld went ballistic. It took months before
Superman and the police were able to get back up to speed and get
everyone in jail where they belonged."

"I'd never seen you quite so driven before," Lois said,
remembering. "It scared me, given how close you'd just
been..." She looked unable to finish her statement.

"I know," he said gently. "The greater part of me says to
remain silent on the issue, but I hate to leave people thinking
that their hero has abandoned them."

He brushed his fingertips over the thin strap of the tank top
Lois had fallen asleep in. Lois made no reply. He could see in
her face that she had none to offer. Silence ruled the room,
challenged and defied only by the night noises outside of their
window -- crickets, still chirping as the sky began to lighten
into baby pinks and pale blues, a dog barking to be let back into
his home, the squeal of tires as a couple of reckless drivers
drag-raced somewhere in the far distance.

"Let me help you to relax," Lois said after a time, using
Clark's own hand to slip the spaghetti strap over her shoulder
and down over her arm as far as it would go.

"Mmm," was all Clark could reply, his thoughts about
Superman's absence scattering like marbles.

***

A few more days passed. Clark felt fine each day when he awoke.
Once, he dreamed that Dr. Klein had been mistaken in his
prognosis. In that dream, the sense of relief he'd felt had been
immeasurable. The crushing disappointment of reality when he'd
awoken had been beyond words. He did his best to hide his
continuing fears and sadness from Lois, and tried to focus only
on those wonderful moments with her that he got to experience
every day.

Each night we would check in with either Dr. Klein or Sam, hoping
without any real hope that they might have some good news for
him. Each time, he was told, in as gentle a manner as either man
could muster, that every attempt so far to come up with a fix had
failed. The only difference between failures was just how
catastrophically it happened -- two separate attempts had caused
the pigs' hearts that the doctors were using in place of a human
heart to literally explode.

Clark slipped beneath the bed sheets each night more discouraged
than the previous night. The small sliver of optimism that he'd
tried to hold on to and nourish vanished like a candle too
suddenly snuffed out. And still, he nodded and played along
whenever Lois talked about how her father must be getting close
to finding a cure. He told himself that concealing his feelings
was for the best. Lois had enough to deal with. She had the baby
to worry about and he didn't want to put any undue stress on her
-- not while she was pregnant, not ever.

He reveled in his work, finding solace in the investigations
which purged all other thoughts from his mind. And he celebrated
-- truly celebrated -- when he and Lois finally brought to
justice those who'd been responsible for the bridge collapse
that had left so many dead and even more injured. His heart sang
as he watched the men and women responsible led away in
handcuffs, and he found it next to impossible to keep the grin
off his face when the story broke in the evening edition of the
Planet that same day.

At home, he enjoyed all of the little moments -- the feel of
settling down onto the couch to read a book, the way the blankets
draped around him when he climbed into bed at night, the way
Lois' skin felt beneath his fingertips and lips, the taste of
her kisses, the way that she smelled. When he thought Lois
wasn't looking, he would pick up a picture frame and remember
the events of that day it was taken. His favorites were of their
wedding, but also the ones Jonathan and Martha had snapped of the
two of them when they'd been together in Smallville the first
time, when Jason Trask had been harassing Wayne Irig. That had
been the first time Clark had ever seen Lois' guard quite that
low, and when she'd allowed herself to cross the line between
grudging work partner and true friend.

But always, the knowledge was there that at any moment, all of it
could be yanked away by his faulty heart.

***

"Morning, CK," Jimmy said cheerfully as he rushed by with a box
filled with bagels.

"Whoa! Slow down!" Clark said, standing from his desk. When his
friend stopped, Clark grabbed two plain buttered bagels, one for
himself and Lois.

"Those are for the meeting," Jimmy cautioned.

"So? We won't take any when the meeting starts," Clark said,
grinning.

"Fine. Nice work on the bridge case, by the way. That's all
I've been hearing about since the news broke yesterday. You and
Lois are something else. I'm glad those people will be held
responsible now."

"Thanks, Jimmy."

"So, you two pick any names for the baby yet?"

"Ah...not yet. We've...had a lot going on lately. Work and
personal stuff."

"Everything's okay, right?" Jimmy asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Clark said, though it was mostly a lie. "We're okay.
Just some family stuff that needs to be figured out, that's
all."

"Where's Lois now?" Jimmy asked, casting a glance at her empty
desk.

"Right here," Lois said, coming from the direction of the
ladies' room. "My bladder is a trampoline today."

"Ah...oh," Jimmy said, blushing. For a moment, he looked lost,
then decided that anywhere but between Lois and Clark's desks
was a preferable alternative.

"I stole you a bagel. I thought our son might be hungry," Clark
said, handing her one of the ones he'd taken.

"He is. Thanks." She bit into hers. "Oh, so good. He went to
Little Manhattan, didn't he?"

Clark craned his neck to get a view of the box in Jimmy's hand
as he weaved through the bullpen. "Yep."

"So...what's on our agenda for today?" Lois asked, sitting in
her seat.

Clark shook his head. "Not sure. Perry hasn't assigned us
anything. And all of our current stories are either waiting for
print or on hold as we wait for interviews."

"Well, there's one we can try," Lois said after a few
thoughtful minutes spent eating her bagel. She rummaged for one
of the files. "Edward Silverton."

"The jewelry shop owner?"

Lois nodded. "Yeah, his shop was the one that was torched the
other day."

"The arson, I remember," Clark said, nodding in turn. "Sounds
better than sitting here, waiting for a story to fall out of the
sky. You ready to go?"

"Yeah." She pushed herself out of her chair with a groan. Clark
knew she'd had a rough night sleeping.

"You okay?" he asked, watching her as she collected her purse
and made ready to go.

"I'm fine. Let's do this."

***

An hour later, they returned to the Planet, walking hand in hand
together down the streets. It was a hot day, but not blistering.
If anything, the summer was one of the milder ones Clark had
enjoyed since moving to the city. Clark stopped as they passed a
street vendor selling snow cones, getting a blue raspberry one
for Lois and a lemon-lime one for himself.

"Well, that was a bust," Lois said with a sigh as she dug into
her ice with a plastic spoon.

"We'll try again tomorrow," Clark promised.

*Help!*

Clark heard the call even without his superior hearing. Without
thinking, he broke into a run, covering the last few feet to the
corner of the sidewalk. That put him on the Daily Planet's
block. And right in front of the building, he saw the cause for
the cries for help. A school bus was laying on its side, T-boned
by a tractor trailer. Inside the bus, Clark could hear the cries
of pain and fear from the young kids inside. He guessed one of
the local camps had been on some kind of field trip when the
accident had happened.

He instinctually reached toward his necktie, his fingers brushing
the silken knot before he remembered that he wasn't wearing the
Superman disguise beneath his work clothes. He'd stopped wearing
the blue after his initial heart attack, knowing that it would be
easier to resist changing into the superhero if the costume
wasn't easily accessible. Now, though, more than ever, he
regretted not having it on his body. At that moment, his heart
was a second thought -- his real concern lay with the injured
children in the bus.

He made the instantaneous decision to help.

Already, people had gathered around the crash site. Most were
gawking at the wreckage. Some were on cell phones -- Clark hoped
they were speaking with 911. A select few were trying to help.
Already, the driver of the tractor trailer had been pulled out of
his vehicle, and someone had given him a rag of some kind to
press to the wound on the side of his head. The rest of the
helpers were trying to get the kids out of the bus, but the
vehicle had landed on the door.

Leaving Lois behind, Clark quickened his pace -- careful not to
break into a flat out run. He reached the bus and went around to
the back. The man who was trying to open the emergency exit
stepped aside without Clark needing to say a word. Gambling on
using a fraction of his strength, he forced the lever to move,
getting the door to open. He used a little too much though, and
the door separated from the vehicle to crash to the asphalt. No
one even batted an eyelash, he noted with relief, let alone
commented on the show of power.

Instead, people started clamoring into the bus, one by one, going
in to aid those inside. Clark joined the effort, going inside.
Blood, vomit, and other bodily secretions awaited. He ignored it
all, finding the closest child he could aid. He found a wide-eyed
and shaking little girl in the fourth row from the back. Softly,
he called to her, but she was too much in shock to answer or even
register that he was there. He picked her up and cradled her to
his chest while he got her to safety. Then he was back into the
thick of things on the bus, finding a slightly older boy with
blood matting his sun bleached blonde hair. He, at least, went
willingly with Clark.

By the time Clark was exiting the bus with a third child, a
bespectacled and gangly pre-teen boy, the authorities had begun
to arrive. Ambulances screeched to a stop, their sirens abruptly
cutting off as the vehicles were thrown into park. Police cars
started to flood the area as well, cops jumping out of the
vehicles to cordon off the scene and appraise the situation
almost before the squad cars stopped. More flocked to the bus,
one tall Asian looking cop helping Clark dismount from the
vehicle. Clark allowed the man to help, knowing that any normal
man would.

"Sir, I have to ask you to step aside," the cop said, though
not unkindly.

Clark nodded wordlessly and stepped away from the accident. He
quickly spied out where Lois was standing and went to join her.
As he made his way to her, he glimpsed Jimmy jockeying for a
better position as he continued to snap photos. Lois gave Clark
an unreadable look when he reached her side.

"I *had* to," he whispered under his breath.

Lois sighed, her expression softening. "I know. Are you okay?"

"I feel fine," he reassured her.

It was true. He felt okay -- he didn't feel like his heart was
racing. If anything, he felt elated that, even without his
powers, he'd been able to make a difference.

"Good," Lois said, taking his arm affectionately. "You did a
good job, Clark."

"Thanks. I just wish I could have done more."

"You did more than anyone has the right to ask of you.
Especially given your health."

Together, they watched the remainder of the rescue, with Clark
only being satisfied once every adult and child had been helped
out of the bus. Most appeared to have serious, but not life
threatening, injuries. Some were treated on the spot for minor
wounds, others were whisked immediately away by ambulance. When
the last person was tended to, and the police began tow away the
vehicles to clear the street, Clark was finally content enough to
leave.

"You write the story," he told Lois as they crossed the road
and headed for the Daily Planet.

"Okay," she said, nodding, knowing he would never dare touch a
story where he, Clark Kent, was involved. "You want to do a
sidebar piece on the human interest aspect?"

Clark shook his head. "I wouldn't feel right about it."

Jimmy was already in the bullpen when they arrived. He didn't
even stop to say hello as he ran past to drop his rolls of film
off in the dark room. When he emerged later on, wiping his hands
off on his gray plaid shirt, Lois had already finished her
article. Clark sat across the way, working on a separate
investigation.

"I'm going to run this by Perry," Lois announced as she stood
up from her chair. She stretched her back awkwardly.

"Everything all right?" Clark asked, noting how she rubbed at
her lower back as she stretched.

"I'm fine. I think your son is pressing on a nerve."

Clark nodded. Later that night, he promised himself that he would
rub her back until any discomfort was a distant memory. He got up
and went to check the fax machine, hoping that the police report
he was waiting for had finally come in, only to find that it
still hadn't.

"CK!"Jimmy said, as Clark watched Lois make her way through the
newsroom.

"Hey, Jimmy. What's up?"

"I saw what you did at the accident. That was pretty
incredible," he said in awe.

"Thanks," Clark said, giving his friend a smile.

"I'm serious! The way you pulled that door off. It was like...I
dunno...like you were channeling Superman or something."

"It's crazy what the body can do in times of stress," Clark
covered easily, shrugging. "I've heard it said that adrenaline
can give you strength you never knew you had. Like a mother
suddenly being able to lift a car to save her child."

"I've heard the same," Jimmy said, agreeing. "But to see it
in action -- that was something else. Anyway, I just wanted to
say that I thought you did an incredible job. It does make me
wonder though."

"Wonder?" Clark echoed, feeling a cold knot of dread begin to
form in his stomach.

"About Superman. I mean, where is he? One day he's at every
accident and emergency situation there is. Then, suddenly,* bam!*
he's gone without a trace. I don't mean to be harsh. I consider
him a friend, and I know the two of you are close and all. But,
the world could really use him."

"Believe me, Jimmy, he's got his reasons, I'm sure of that.
And I know it's got to be killing him to have to step back from
his duties."

"He's coming back, right?" The slight anger in Jimmy's voice
turned to worry.

"He's hoping he'll be back in action as soon as possible,"
Clark said with as much conviction as he could muster. He lightly
clapped his friend on the shoulder.

Jimmy nodded, appeased. "Tell him that I hope whatever's
keeping him away clears up soon."

"I will."

"Oh, I, uh, had a question for you about the research you wanted
me to run on..."

Clark didn't hear the rest of what Jimmy was saying. His chest
suddenly tightened and pain began to radiate in his arms. He went
to sit down in his desk chair, missed the seat, and collapsed on
the floor, his head smacking the tile with a heavy thud. Nausea
rolled over him in a perfect copy of his first heart attack.

"CK? *CK?*" Jimmy called, panicked.

Clark tried to respond, but found himself unable.

"*Lois!*" Jimmy screamed when Clark didn't respond. "Someone!
Help!"

Clark heard Lois come running, her heels clicking loudly against
the floor as the newsroom came to an almost never before seen
hush, like a movie placed on pause. She dropped to her knees and
cradled his head against her, holding him when his pulse
skyrocketed.

"Clark? Clark? Can you hear me?"

"I'll call 911," Jimmy said, finally coming around to rational
thinking.

"No. I'll drive him to the hospital," Lois said, to Clark's
great relief. Neither one wanted paramedics to work on Clark and
potentially discover his secret. "Call Dr. Klein. Tell him to
meet me at Metropolis General."

"Dr. Klein? But he's not..." Jimmy began to argue.

"I know," Lois snapped in fear and impatience. "Just do it,
Jimmy."

"Lois," Clark called softly, as the pain began to recede by the
slightest degree.

"Hey," she said, soothing him, running a hand along his jaw
line. "Are you okay?"

"No," he said, still in pain, but now less so than a minute
before. "We need to get to the hospital. *Now*."

***

Dr. Klein's face was grim as he stepped into the small hospital
room where Clark had been ushered upon his arrival at Metropolis
General. Clark was in the bed, dressed in nothing more than the
hospital issued gowns he'd been handed by a particularly gruff
nurse. The bed was at an incline, and flat, almost hard pillows
cushioned Clark's back and head. He was, at least, feeling
better, now that his second heart attack was over.

On the ride to the hospital, he'd been in so much pain that his
chest had felt ready to burst from the pressure. His pulse had
skyrocketed and his vision had swum so badly that he hadn't been
able to bear keeping his eyes open. He'd thought, more than
once, that the end had come for him -- that his seriously damaged
heart was finally going to give out on him and that Death would
take him to whatever awaited in the great beyond.

Once at the hospital, he'd been whisked away, straight to Dr.
Klein, who'd, thankfully, gotten there before Lois and Clark had
arrived. By then, Clark's pain had begun to lessen. But Dr.
Klein hadn't wasted a second. He'd summoned a nurse to get
Clark a room and some gowns, then had run a battery of tests on
him. Some, Clark had undergone before. Some were new. Again,
blood had needed to be drawn, so Clark had gritted his teeth and
submitted himself to the ravaging effects of the small piece of
Kryptonite that the doctor had smuggled out of the vaults at
S.T.A.R. Labs. Already feeling ill, it had been all Clark could
do to stay conscious. That blood draw had seemed to take a
lifetime, as Dr. Klein filled several vials for the numerous
tests he'd wanted to run.

The room Clark had been placed in had been specifically chosen
for the amount of sunlight it would afford him, as well as the
privacy it would give both Clark and his team of doctors. He'd
been grateful for the doctor's forethought on that. The warm,
afternoon sunlight had done wonders for him as he'd been forced
to lay in the uncomfortable hospital bed. The effects of the
Kryptonite had faded soon after Lois had opened the blinds to
their fullest.

Now, though, the results of his tests seemed to be in.

"How bad is it?" Clark asked as the man came in and shut the
door behind them, to afford them some privacy.

Dr. Klein sat in the only empty chair in the room, which was next
to the one Lois was in.

"It isn't good, I'm afraid."

"How bad?" Clark repeated.

Dr. Klein took a steadying breath. "Bad. That last attack did a
number on what was left of the healthy heart tissue. I hate to
say it, but, if you were a normal man, you wouldn't be alive
right now. I think your body is trying to heal the damage, but it
can't."

"Oh, God," Lois breathed.

"The good news," Dr. Klein continued, as if any news could
possibly alleviate the tension in the room, "is that none of
your other organs seem to be affected. It appears that it's only
your heart."

"You know," Clark said weakly, still not feeling back to his
normal self, "I could almost feel my body fighting back, both
times."

Dr. Klein nodded. "It's possible that that is exactly what was
happening. Your body is so completely unique. It's possible that
your powers -- the part of you that normally is invulnerable --
protected the rest of your body."

"But why wouldn't it protect his heart too?" Lois asked, and
Clark had to give her credit for being as calm as she was.

Dr. Klein shook his head. "My guess -- and that's all I really
have to go on, you understand -- is that the damage to his heart
somehow prevented that protection from being in place. Some
permanent muscle death caused when he fought Deathstroke is the
most likely scenario. Think of Clark's body as a suit of armor
with one spot of rust. Given enough time, that rust will weaken
that one place until any sword or spear can break right through
to wound the wearer."

"And how bad is my 'rust spot?'" Clark asked, dreading the
answer, knowing it wasn't good.

"Enough that I want you to stay in the hospital," the doctor
said, not meeting his eyes. "I think another one is coming. And
if you aren't here, I can't be sure that you'll survive it. At
least if you're here, we can do certain things to try to keep
you alive while we continue to work on some fix for your
heart."

"And how close are you to that?" Lois asked, grabbing Clark's
hand and giving it a squeeze.

Dr. Klein bit his lower lip in nervousness. "No closer than we
were weeks ago, I'm afraid. I'm trying to remain hopeful
though."

Lois' face fell measurably. Clark squeezed her hand back.

"I'm sure something will come along," Clark offered in as
cheerful a voice as he could muster, though he really wasn't
hopeful at all.

"I have to get back and check on some of the tests I've been
running. I want you to lay here and relax, got it?" the doctor
told Clark. "No more...you know." He gestured vaguely, unsure
how to express that he meant Clark's powers.

"I promise," Clark swore. "I'm too drained to do anything
even if I wanted to."

"I'll be back later to check on you," the doctor promised.
"If you need anything, just buzz. I've hand-selected your care
team. All have worked with celebrity patients before, so they
know the drill with keeping things as quiet as possible that
you're here. Uh, the Clark you, I mean. I know you wanted that
to stay private."

"I do," Clark confirmed. "The Dirt Digger or Inquisitor would
have a field day if they knew. Just look at the coverage and dirt
they tried to find during our wedding." He shook his head.
"Thanks for the added secrecy, doc. I really appreciate it."

"Any time," Dr. Klein said with a genuine smile. He stood and
touched Clark's shoulder in a comforting way. "I'll be
back."

Then he was gone, leaving Lois and Clark alone in the sudden
silence left in the wake of his departure.

"I'm so sorry, Lois," Clark finally said, after a couple of
minutes spent looking out between the slats of his window shades.
"I never meant for this to happen."

Lois shook her head. "No, Clark. I've already told you not to
apologize. You helped save the lives of children today."

"And put my own life at risk."

"Which you've been doing time and again, ever since I met
you."

"That's not the same," he argued. "I wasn't...in the
position that I am now."

"No, but any time you flashed around in the cape, you never knew
who might be around with a certain green rock," she stubbornly
pointed out.

"That's different," he repeated, staunch in his viewpoint.
"All of those times..." he gestured weakly, "I was taking a
risk, sure. But I never had such an...almost guarantee...that
I'd putting my life on the line. This time, I did. I knew the
risks. I knew that there was a good chance that something like
this would happen."

"And you did it anyway." It was a statement of fact, not a
question.

"I did it anyway."

"Because you have a tender heart, Clark. Don't you see? I
wouldn't have wanted you to do anything differently today.
Because I know that if you hadn't lent your strength today, it
would have eaten you alive, knowing that you could have helped
and didn't."

Clark hung his head until his chin rested on his chest. "I
know," he said in a near whisper. "But I should have put you
and the baby first. I can't just blindly put my life on the line
like I did. Not when it's a gamble that I'm almost guaranteed
to lose. I didn't even stop to consider what would happen if I
died in the rescue effort. I *should* have. That's what bothers
me the most. What kind of man puts his own, selfish needs ahead
of his family's?"

"A man with a heart as big as they come," Lois said soothingly.
"A man who puts others...*all* others above himself. A man who
will one day be a shining example to his son of what it means to
be selfless, giving, and an asset to society."

"If I live that long."

"You will." Clark could hear all of her conviction in those two
simple words.

"I hope."

"You will."

Clark smiled at his wife. "You never give up, do you?"

"Never."

"Good," he said with a grin. "Because that's just what I need
right about now."

"How about something to drink?" Lois offered as she scanned the
room for a cup.

She spied a pink plastic cup and matching pitcher. She stood,
arched her back, retrieved the pitcher and cup, and brought it to
the bedside table. Clark nodded, so she slipped out the door,
only to return minutes later with the pitcher full to the brim
with ice chips and water. She poured out a little into the cup,
stuck a straw in it, and held it up to Clark's lips. He drank
deeply and gratefully. When he was finished, she refilled the
cup. He shook his head, done for the moment, so Lois put it
down.

"Thank you," he said in a low voice.

"You look exhausted," Lois observed. "Why don't you close
your eyes for a little while?"

"What about you?"

"I'll call your parents and let them know what's going on.
I've also got my stakeout bag in the trunk of the car, so I
might go change into something more comfortable." She stood and
wandered toward the door.

"Sounds good," Clark said. "But later, we need to talk about a
couple of things, okay?"

"Things?" She stopped and turned back.

"Just some things I want you to know...just in case," Clark
said, waving her off. "Go, get yourself comfortable. I'm not
going anywhere right now."

"Okay," she relented after a moment of hanging out in the
doorframe, looking back at him.

When she was gone, the room seemed to shrink down on Clark like a
lonely, oppressive cell.

*Or maybe even a grave*, he thought with a shudder.

He pulled the blankets up higher, in an effort to make himself
feel more comfortable, now that the sunlight was fading as the
afternoon wore away into evening. But everything was wrong. The
bed was too stiff and unyielding -- he missed the softness of the
mattress he and Lois had picked out shortly before they'd been
wed. The sounds were too hushed, too sterile -- he missed the
sounds of their townhouse -- the various creaks as the house
settled, the crickets in their small patch of lawn, the light
chimes of the living room clock, Lois' soft breathing against
his neck as they lay together in bed or snuggled on the couch.
The smells were too astringent, stinging his sensitive nose, even
without trying to employ his powers, and they made his eyes water
from time to time -- he missed the lavender and rose scents of
his home in the various candles and air fresheners that were
strewn throughout the place, the sharp and comforting aroma of
freshly brewed coffee coming from their kitchen, even the acrid
smell of whatever Lois had managed to burn for dinner, despite
his patient guidance and lessons from Martha whenever she was in
town.

Once, long ago, Clark had reveled in silence, often fleeing to
the space between the Earth and the stars in order to have some
peace and quiet, as much as it had been a refuge for him, a place
to get away from life in general and just contemplate how
different he was from everyone else. He'd looked forward to
those still, stolen moments, away from the hustle and bustle of
the world, where even his super hearing couldn't pick up on the
cries for help, the sirens of emergency vehicles, and the general
chaos of the masses. But now, left alone in a quiet white room,
Clark missed the pulse of the city, though he'd been in the
hospital not even three full hours.

He dozed fitfully, sliding into sleep only to jerk back into
wakefulness each time. He tried to stay awake, but found that
impossible as well. It was only when Lois returned that Clark's
racing mind finally calmed enough to grant him the rest that he
so desperately needed. But in his dreams, he was once again at
the scene of the accident. Only this time, when he tried to help,
his strength failed him along with his heart, leaving him dying
and the kids on the bus dead.

He awoke with a start, a scream in his throat that he had to
swallow back down before it could emerge and roll off his lips.
Lois was there immediately upon seeing his movement, her warm
hand on his brow, pushing back his sweaty hair.

"Hey, it's okay," she whispered in his ear. "I'm here."

Clark took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Bad dream?" Lois asked.

He nodded, slowly, getting his bearings. Seeing the bland white
walls and feeling the monitoring wires on his body brought
reality crushing back to him.

"I'm okay," he said after a moment, licking his dry lips.

"More water?"

"Please."

Again, Lois held the cup to his mouth, allowing him to suck down
as much water as he wished through the use of the straw. Clark
gulped the liquid down, feeling like a man who'd been left out
in the desert for too long. He finished the water in record time,
then another full cup almost as quickly.

"I talked to your parents," Lois said as Clark drank.
"They're working on getting a flight out. They're going to
call me when they know more."

"Good," Clark said, leaning tiredly back into the pillows. He
adjusted the angle of the bed with the controls on the side
rails, sitting up further.

"Jimmy and Perry called to find out how you're doing. I told
them you're feeling better than you were, but are being held for
observation. It should buy us a little time before they start
asking questions. Lucy is stuck in Florida at the moment. Her
latest beau maxed out her credit cards and drained her checking
account. She's trying to get it all sorted out, but it's going
to take some time. She said she hopes you get better soon, and
that she's sorry she can't be here now."

They had been forced to divulge a least part of Clark's
condition to Lois' sister. Clark hadn't wanted Lois to be stuck
trying to explain things to Lucy if and when things went badly.
All she knew was that Clark needed a transplant, but they had
kept it a secret how hopeless it was that he would receive one.

"Thanks," Clark said, nodding. "Did you talk to your dad
too?"

Lois nodded. "He sounded half asleep on the phone. He's been
working around the clock on this."

"I know. And I appreciate it. You'll tell him that for me,
right? Just in case?"

"I will."

Clark closed his eyes for a moment before speaking again.

"Lois?"

"Yeah?"

"There are some things I wanted to discuss with you. Things I
need you to know, just in case the worst happens. I want to
believe that Dr. Klein and your father will find a way to save
me, but I can't bank on it."

"Clark," Lois said, fear clinging to the edges of her words.

"Lois, we have to be realistic here. I need to make sure that
everything is in order. Okay?"

"Okay." One simple word conveyed all of her trust in him.

He nodded in acknowledgement. "First, I guess, if the worst does
happen, there are some letters in the back of my sock drawer. For
you, for our son, for Perry and Jimmy. Give the envelope for our
son to him when he's old enough to understand. Yours is for
after I die, if that happens. The ones for Perry and Jimmy --
they are an explanation, of everything. Of who I really am, of
why I never told them. Don't give them the letters unless they
make the connection between me and Superman though. I guess part
of me doesn't want to shatter the illusion of the hero for them.
But if they do start to make the connection, then give them the
letters. I thought it might be best if the explanation came
straight from me. That maybe, somehow, it might make them
understand better."

"I promise not to give them the letters," Lois assured him.

"On my laptop, you'll find two sketched out articles, CKObit
and SMObit. Clark Kent's obituary and Superman's. I didn't
want you to have to worry about what to tell people."

"That's a little morbid, Clark," Lois said, trying to joke,
trying to hide the fear in her voice.

Clark could hear it lurking there, however. "I didn't write
them just for this," he confided. "I wrote them after that
incident with the regenerated villains, when Clyde Barrow shot
and 'killed' me in front of a roomful of witnesses and I had to
play dead until I could find a way to have a miraculous
resurrection. I knew that eventually some kind of similar
scenario might creep up again, even if it was because my
Kryptonian biology kept me alive longer than a normal person, and
that I might have to fake my own death. All I did was recently
update it to reflect more recent developments in my life, even if
someone else needs to fill in the specific details."

He reached out toward Lois' stomach, but she was too far for him
to be able to touch her without straining. She scooted closer to
him, so that he could comfortably rest his palm above where his
son was busy growing.

"And," he added with a smile, "one of those same recent
developments needs a name."

Lois laughed, a sound more precious to Clark than any amount of
gold, silver, or jewels.

"I guess that's true," she said as her laugh tapered off.
"With everything that's been happening, I haven't really
thought about it too much."

"But you *have* thought a little about it."

"Yes."

Clark grinned. "Good."

"I was thinking, even before all of this, about naming the baby
Clark, after you."

He shook his head. "I'd rather not. Eventually this little boy
*will* know about his dad's other job. That's going to be hard
enough on him, wanting to measure up and all, I'm sure. Add to
that a shared name, and this poor kid might have a complex of
some sort." He said it in a joking way, though he was serious.
He'd been thinking about it ever since they had first started to
think about children and Lois had casually mentioned that the
world needed another Clark Kent.

"I guess that's a good point," Lois said in a thoughtful
manner. "What about Charles?"

"As in Charlie King? My alias at the Metro Club when the
Toasters were terrorizing Metropolis?"

Lois shuddered, perhaps at the thought of Toni Taylor.
"Michael?"

"I like it," Clark said. "How about Julian?"

Lois made a face.

"Not a fan, I see," Clark laughed. "John?"

"It's kind of plain. Ferguson?"

"God, no!" Clark laughed.

"It was my great uncle's middle name."

"It's nerdy," Clark scoffed.

And so the next few hours passed, as they both offered names.
Some were shot down immediately, some wound up on a 'definite'
list, some were jotted down on a 'revisit' list. Some names
sounded good until they said it aloud a few times, and some had
rather unfortunate initials. Throughout the discussion, Clark
found that he was enjoying himself immensely, forgetting, for a
time, his immediate troubles. And for just a moment, he found
that he could almost picture a future in which he lived to see
his son born.

They were still laughing over the last name that Lois had
suggested when Dr. Klein returned, a newspaper tucked under his
arm. Clark's laughter broke off once he realized that his friend
was once again in the room.

"Sounds like you two have been having some fun," the doctor
said with a smile of approval. "That's good. There's no
medicine better than laughter."

"If only it was that easy," Clark said.

Dr. Klein nodded. "If only."

"Any news?" Lois prodded.

The doctor sighed. "Not yet. But we're getting a little closer.
The last series of experiments lasted a few minutes instead of
seconds when put under a fraction of the stress Clark's body
usually experiences on a normal day. I just wish our success, and
I use the term lightly, was moving along faster. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Clark said. He peered at the paper
sticking out from beneath his friend's arm. "Is that the
Planet?"

"It is. I thought you might be interested in it." He handed
Clark the newspaper. "Check out the front page. But first, let
me get a look at your vitals."

Clark nodded and allowed the man to check his heart, his lungs,
the amount of urine in the bag attached to his catheter, and the
printouts from the assortment of machines that had been
monitoring him. Dr. Klein made some notes on the chart hanging
from the foot of the bed, mumbling to himself, in such a way that
Clark didn't even want to try to decipher the words. Then the
man was off again, breezing back out of the room, leaving Lois
and Clark both to marvel at his energy level.

It was only in the wake of Dr. Klein's absence that Clark
unfolded the paper and shook his head in dismay as he read the
headline.

HERO REPORTER ASSISTS AT SCHOOL BUS CRASH; SUPERMAN STILL
MYSTERIOUSLY ABSENT

And there, beneath the bold, black ink of the headline, pictures
of Clark. In one, he was getting the emergency exit open -- Clark
knew it had been taken a heartbeat before the door had come off
in his hands. In the next picture, Clark was emerging from the
destroyed vehicle with a little girl cradled to his chest -- the
first of the children he'd gotten to safety. He groaned. He'd
known, of course, that Jimmy had been at the scene, snapping away
with his camera. But he hadn't wanted any kind of recognition
for his efforts. Superman was the hero. Clark was the normal and
completely unremarkable man.

"Oh boy," he said, handing the paper to Lois so that she too
could see.

"I'm sorry, Clark. I should have thought to mention it to Perry
that you wouldn't want any recognition for that. But you know,
it's not a bad thing, letting people see a 'normal' man
lending a hand. Now, perhaps more than ever, we need people to
have good examples of their own potential to do good."

"I'm not against that," Clark said with a shrug. "I just
never wanted it to be me that provided the example, that's
all."

Lois had been sitting on Clark's bed before Dr. Klein had needed
to check his vital signs. She had scooted over and out of the way
to give the doctor the space he needed. Now, she reclaimed her
spot, snuggling up to her husband as much as she could. Clark
luxuriated in the closeness, as he always did. It calmed him,
made him feel that, for the moment at least, everything was okay,
despite the fact that he was in the hospital recovering from a
second massive heart attack.

It almost made him forget that he was a ticking time bomb.

He wrapped her in his arms, as best he could with the wires that
were attached to him. She put her head on his shoulder and
snuggled even closer. He breathed deeply, inhaling the unique
scent of her. He desperately wanted to listen to her heartbeat,
but was too terrified to attempt even so small a power as his
super hearing.

Together, they read the paper, Clark shaking his head at the
article centering on the bus crash and the part he'd played in
the rescue. Clark was tempted to fashion a response, but didn't
quite feel up to it at the moment. Perhaps he would in the
morning. They read the Op Ed piece, a plea to Superman to return
to the citizens of Metropolis, and indeed, the entire world. That
too, Clark felt might warrant a response from the man in blue,
but he didn't want to tackle that either just yet. What could he
say, anyway?

Beyond the walls of the hospital, the night rolled on. A storm
broke, a wild and wet mess of rain, lightning, and thunder so
loud that it rattled the glass panes of his window. It barely
registered in Clark's mind though. He was focused on his wife.
That was all that mattered to him.

"You want to do the crossword puzzle?" he asked around
midnight.

"You should be resting, honey," Lois said, running her hand
through the front of his hair.

"I will," he said. "Just not yet. I'm finally feeling like
I've got a little energy back."

Lois studied him for a long minute before nodding and flipping
the pages to get to the crossword puzzle toward the back. Then
she got up, rummaged around in her purse, and finally emerged
with a pen, holding it aloft victoriously. She tested it on the
corner of the page, making a purple scribble where she raked it
across the paper. She looked at it in a funny way. Clark knew she
must have accidently picked the pen up somewhere. There was no
way that professional reporter Lois Lane carried a pen with
purple ink in her purse.

After that, she returned to his more than willing embrace. Clark
let her take charge of holding the paper and pen. He wasn't in a
great position to write down the answers.

"One down," he said as he began to skim the clues. "Reddish
color. Six letters. Maroon."

"Making one across matrix," Lois added.

"Nice one," Clark commented, smiling over at her.

"Thanks. You too."

Together, they quickly filled in more answers, each of them
acknowledging the other's correct answers with a verbal word of
approval, a smile, or a kiss. They were nearing the end, with
only seven clues that hadn't been solved, when Clark's next
heart attack hit. Panicked, Lois hit the call button to summon
help.

Dr. Klein must have been right in the vicinity. Like a ninja, he
appeared seemingly out of thin air. He checked Clark's vitals
and his face immediately fell. He reached out and smashed the
palm of his hand against a small, square red button which was set
into the wall, calling a code blue for cardiac arrest.

***

Lois sat alone in the room, processing everything that had
happened. Next to her, on the bedside table, the paper and
unfinished crossword puzzle lay forgotten. The pen had fallen to
the floor and been kicked away by one of several rushing feet.
Where it had gone after that, Lois wasn't sure. Perhaps it had
spun away and come to rest under the baseboard heating. She
didn't know and didn't care.

Looking back, everything had happened so fast. One moment, Clark
had been fine. He'd been cuddling her close and laughing.

"Thirty-seven across," he'd announced proudly, kissing the
back of her head. "Cantonese."

She'd filled in the squares in question and had been about to
turn and place a kiss on his lips when Clark's entire demeanor
had changed. She'd known, without a question, exactly what was
happening. As Dr. Klein had predicted, Clark had been having
another massive heart attack. But this time it was different.
He'd lost the ability to speak. He'd been gasping for air,
almost clawing at his neck before he'd become completely
unresponsive in any way. But it wasn't until Dr. Klein had
called a code on Clark that the icy feeling of dread had flooded
her body and raced down her spine, chilling her to her very
core.

Dazed, she'd tucked herself into the furthest corner of the
room, knowing that even half a second where a nurse might have to
guide her out of the way could make a difference in the outcome
as they'd worked on Clark. Her desire to give Clark his best
chance at survival had outshone her desire to be right there next
to him, holding his hand until the heart attack was over.

True panic had set in, however, when she heard the monitor that
was tracking his heart rate become a steady *beeeeep!* as Clark
had flat-lined.

She vaguely remembered herself crying, tears washing over her
mascara and leaving dirty black trails down over her cheeks. She
thought she might have screamed. She was certain that a steady
stream of "Clark, no! Come back to me," had passed her lips.
All she remembered clearly was the stark, paralyzing terror that
had gripped her. She hadn't even been aware when Marty, Dr.
Klein's nephew, had rushed into the room and gently guided her
out into the waiting area, only to disappear once more, telling
her that someone would come get her once they knew more about
what was going on with Clark.

Dr. Klein had been the one to come to her, what felt like an
eternity later. She could tell, just from one quick glance at
him, that things were not good. He'd seemed stooped and defeated
as he'd made his way to her, looking far older than she'd ever
seen him look before. He'd taken the seat next to her in the
waiting area but hadn't met her eyes the entire time they'd
spoken.

By the end, Lois had had fresh mascara tracks running over her
face.

Now she sat in silence, staring blankly across the room. *Numb*.
That was the only word that could adequately describe how she
felt. *Numb and hollow*.

"Lois?" Sam Lane called softly as he gently knocked on the
doorframe.

"Huh?" The sound had pulled Lois out of her near trance. It had
nearly startled her, but she refused to let that show. "Oh.
Daddy."

"And me," Ellen said in a hushed voice as she peeked her head
around Sam.

"Mom."

"We came as soon as we heard," Sam said, crossing to kneel at
his daughter's side. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," Lois said honestly, with a resigned shake of
her head. "It's like I'm in a nightmare. I keep waiting and
wondering when I'll finally wake up to find Clark safe and sound
next to me."

"I wish it was," Sam agreed, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do now," Lois confessed.
"There's nothing I can do here. There's nothing for me at
home."

"First things first. You have to take care of yourself and your
baby."

"But Clark..."

"Can wait," Ellen said softly, cutting Lois off. "There's
nothing you can do for him."

"There has to be *something,*" Lois insisted. "I can't just
leave him here. Not the way he is. Not now."

"Lois," Sam said in a low, gentle tone.

"I *can't*," she repeated. "I *won't*."

"He would want you to take care of yourself and your son,"
Ellen tried, in an obvious attempt to reason with her daughter.

"I know," Lois sighed, feeling defeated. "But what I know and
what I feel are two very different things right now."

Sam nodded sympathetically. "You know that you'll need to make
some decisions, and soon."

"I know," she said, barely nodding, still staring blankly
ahead, feeling more dead than alive. "I just don't have the
heart to do it tonight."

"It's late," Sam replied in a tone of agreement. "And you
need to rest."

"Dr. Klein said I can stay here. The armchair pulls out into a
bed."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"It's the *only* idea," Lois said forcefully, wanting the
conversation to be over. "I'm not leaving my husband."

Ellen sighed audibly. "You always were a stubborn child. Oh
well. What can we do?"

"There's not much to be done. I've already called Clark's
parents. They're still working on getting a flight to
Metropolis. They said they might be able to get on one of the
red-eyes if they fly stand-by." She shook her head, as if it
would clear her thoughts. "That was the hardest phone call I've
ever had to make in my life. To call my husband's parents and
tell them that their son is on life support. Please, Daddy, tell
me that you're getting closer to a cure for Clark."

Sam lowered his eyes to study the white and grey flecked tile
floor. "I wish I could."

Lois made a half strangled groan that reminded her of a dying
cat.

"We're doing everything humanly possible," he tried to
reassure her, but to no avail.

"Daddy?" Lois asked suddenly, pulling her gaze from Clark, who
lay silent in his bed.

"Yeah, Princess?"

"Do you think...if I talked to Clark...that he could hear me?"

"I like to think so," Sam said, though his slight smile was
sad. "I've always thought that patients in comas or on life
support could still hear the voices of their friends and family.
And I've always thought that it helps them fight, even return,
sometimes."

"Thanks," Lois said, managing a half smile for her father.

"Anyway, I should get back to my research," Sam said,
straightening up and standing. He rubbed his knees once he was
up, as if to work a kink out of them. "Promise me that you'll
get some rest?"

"I will," Lois promised.

"I can stay for a while, if you'd like," Ellen offered.

But Lois shook her head. "Thanks, but, for now, I really just
want to be alone with Clark."

Ellen smiled sadly. "You always did have to handle things on
your own. I guess that's mostly my fault." To her credit,
however, she rose from the chair she was sitting on and followed
Sam out the door, leaving Lois once more alone.

"Oh, Clark," she sighed.

Finally finding some strength, she pushed one of the hard wooden
chairs right up to his bedside. For a long moment, all she did
was silently look at him. He'd always been so strong, so
imposing, so full of life, so passionate. Even when he'd first
arrived at the Planet, and Lois had done everything in her power
to get him to leave her alone, she'd noticed those features
about him. He'd looked tall and well built -- she had seen just
*how* well built when she'd gone to pick him up at his shabby
hotel room that first day they'd been on assignment together.

Now though, he seemed like a completely different man. Though
he'd only been hooked up to the life support machines that were
breathing for him and circulating his blood for him -- bypassing
his now completely useless heart muscles -- for only an hour or
two, he already appeared so small and frail to her eyes. His skin
tone had become ashen -- gone was the normal tanned and rosy glow
that seemed to cling to him year round. He seemed shrunken into
himself -- a shell of the man he usually was. For all of his
muscles and well-toned body, he appeared almost childishly small
nestled in amongst pillows, blankets, tubing, and wiring.

Lois followed the various wires that led from the numerous
contraptions that were strapped to her husband's body to the
different machines that were keeping him alive. She already hated
those machines, despite the fact that she loved them for keeping
Clark with her. She watched the monitors that corresponded with
each machine and each bodily function they were currently
providing for Clark. Though Dr. Klein had shown her, briefly,
what each of the lines and numbers meant, she could only remember
a few of them. She felt lost, not knowing if the numbers she was
seeing now were good or bad.

*No one has rushed in here and no alarms have sounded, *she
thought to herself. *Therefore, everything must be okay. Clark is
okay. Except he's not. He needs a miracle and there's nothing I
can do to help ensure that he gets one.*

"Clark," she said again in a hushed whisper of a voice.
"Clark? Can you hear me? Honey, it's me. It's Lois. I'm right
here, by your side, just like always."

She nervously touched his hand, afraid to cause damage, as though
he were a fragile figurine made of the thinnest glass. The lack
of response from him unnerved her. She was just so used to seeing
him smile or feel him grab her hand in reply. To have him lay
there, motionless and completely unresponsive to her gave her a
sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"You can fight this, Clark," she told him. "Every day, you
fight for those who can't fight for themselves, no matter which
suit you're wearing. For years, you fought for us...for me. Now
I need you to fight for your life. I know you can. You're the
strongest man I know, and I'm not talking about your ability to
bench press a rocket. Please, Clark. We're all working as hard
and as fast as we can. Give us the time that we need."

The only response was the steady, rhythmic beeping of the
machines monitoring his heart and the whooshing of the one that
was breathing for him. But that seemed somehow more uncomfortable
than if the room had been dead silent. She began to talk again in
an effort to fill the void, though she dearly could have used
some sleep.

"You have to fight," she repeated. "If not for me, for your
son. He needs you Clark. *I* need you. I can't do this alone.
Please, don't leave me. I love you."

She knew Clark felt the same. He'd never even needed to say the
words, though he always had. It had always shone through in the
way he'd looked at her, the way he'd treated her, the special
smile that he reserved only for her. But in that moment, Lois
would have killed to hear him tell her that he loved her.

She continued to talk to him, stroking his hand or his cheek as
she did so. For a time, she read to him from the newspaper Dr.
Klein had left with them earlier. Then she moved on to sharing
memories of their life together so far. Some even had her
giggling softly as she recalled some of the more absurd things
they'd done and seen. But eventually, she succumbed to the need
for sleep.

She woke only a few short hours later, scrunched up in a little
ball in the armchair where she'd relocated herself once the
adrenaline rush had worn off and exhaustion had set in. She
hadn't even bothered to pull the chair out into the bed it was
capable of becoming. Waking, however, she regretted the decision.
She felt stiff and achy in a way that her pregnancy only
exacerbated. She felt grubby and in need of a shower and a fresh
set of clothing. But to do that, she would need to go home.

"I need to leave for a bit," she told Clark, her stomach
growling like a famished beast. "Keep fighting, okay? I love
you."

She felt in desperate need of reminding him to keep fighting, and
that she loved him, every time she spoke. Perhaps if he heard it
enough, it would give him the strength that he so urgently
needed. She leaned over his bed and kissed him gently on the
forehead, careful to maneuver around and utterly avoid the wires
that were attached to him.

"I have to tell Perry and Jimmy," she added in a quiet voice as
she stroked his brow. "They need to know. I'll keep them away
from the hospital. I know you wouldn't want them to see you like
this. Especially if they ever find out the whole truth. I'll be
back before you know it. I promise."

She had to leave then, before it became too painful and difficult
to leave him. Once she left the room, it was almost as if her
mind went to autopilot mode. She barely remembered the drive
home, or showering, or dressing in clean clothing. She drove to
the Planet, oblivious to all of the normal things that usually
angered her as a driver. Walking into the bullpen, she snapped
out of her trance-like state just long enough to deliver the
crushing news to Perry and Jimmy. She answered their questions as
best she could, being as vague as she could about the more
specific details, and staving off their offers to hold vigil with
her in Clark's room, stating that, for now, the hospital was
only permitting immediate family to visit. Then she was back at
the hospital, having eaten something somewhere along the lines,
though she couldn't remember what she'd had or when she'd
eaten it.

"Clark, sweetie, I'm back," she told him as soon as she
reentered his room.

She breezed over to his side and kissed his brow again, before
immediately checking his vital signs as they appeared on the
monitors. Everything looked much the same as before she'd left,
only a couple of hours before. Satisfied, she sat down and sipped
from her cup of coffee. That had been the hardest thing for her
about being pregnant so far -- having to cut severely back on the
amount of caffeine she ingested every day. But now, she felt, she
truly deserved the strong drink.

"I told Perry and Jimmy what's going on," she informed
Clark's unconscious form. "They're really upset. Jimmy had
tears in his eyes. And Perry...I've never seen him look quite
that devastated before, even when we all thought you were dead
from that shooting. At least, then, we all knew you'd given your
life to save another. What's happening now...it's so much more
unfair. Anyway, I managed to hold them off for now. They weren't
happy about it, but I think they understand. Your folks should be
flying in later today. They said that someone overheard them
talking to one of the ticket sellers at the airport while they
were waiting on standby. The couple offered to switch with them
so that your parents can have a definite flight out, and the
couple will wait on standby instead. You see, Clark? You're
right. There is so much good in the world, and in all of us. It
gives me hope for the future. For the world our baby is going to
grow up in."

There was no reply save for the beeping of the life support
machines.

"We *will* figure this out, you know," she continued. "I know
we will. I just wish we were coming up with the answer right this
second." She sighed and lapsed into a thoughtful silence, though
her eyes never left Clark.

***

Days passed, dragging by in the most sluggish and hellish way
that Lois had ever experienced in her life. Every hour was a
torment for her, having to watch her husband slip further and
further from her, while there was literally not a thing she could
do about it. She tried to give him a firm handhold to life,
talking to him, reading to him, even singing from time to time in
a low voice -- songs she knew or thought he would like. Much of
the time, Jonathan and Martha sat vigil with her, and though she
wanted to be alone, she could not deny that their presence gave
her strength. It had been so difficult, however, being there when
they had arrived at the hospital, coming straight from the
airport, dragging their luggage with them. When Martha's tears
had begun to flow, it was all Lois could do to hug the older
woman and cry with her.

Whenever Ellen could spare a moment away from helping Sam, she
would stop by as well, oftentimes bringing food, knowing that
Lois would need the fuel, knowing that it pained her daughter
deeply each time she had to leave Clark's room. For once, Lois
could find no fault with her mother's presence, except for her
refusal to bring coffee, even though Lois had assured her that no
harm would come to her son from a small amount each day.

Sam, on the other hand, was a virtual ghost during those days and
nights. He practically lived at S.T.A.R. Labs. Lois knew he only
ever left the building to sleep and shower, and that if the lab
had had the facilities for him to do so there, he never would
have left at all. He did stop by a couple of times before heading
into the lab for the day, offering what halting words of comfort
he could, but never able to bring any kind of good news to her.
Lucy called each day, still stuck out of state while she tried to
restore her bank accounts and testified against her latest
ex-boyfriend. But Lois was thankful for each phone call. Though
much of the talk centered on Clark, the rest of the conversations
helped her forget for a moment her hellish reality.

"Honey, we really should talk about our options," Sam said late
one afternoon after the newest experiment had failed.

"Options?" Lois had repeated, though she knew what he father
meant.

"I think you know what I mean," he said.

Lois nodded her affirmation. "There's nothing to discuss."

"Lois, you know this is just a temporary fix," Sam said,
stating fact, not asking any questions. "He can't stay on this
forever." He gestured toward the life support machines.

"I know that," Lois said. "But I'm not giving up on him. He
would never give up on me, if the situation were reversed."

"It's not the same, Lois," Sam replied in a kind voice. "His
body is completely different than yours or mine. I can't be sure
that these machines won't do more harm than good in the long
run, even if I could come up with some way to save his life."

"At least they're giving him a chance," she argued.

"Do you really think that's a possibility?" Martha asked,
alarmed.

Sam sighed and rubbed his bloodshot and drooping eyes. "I don't
know for sure. But anything's possible. We have nothing to go
on. No previous cases to help us base our treatment off of. So
far, it looks like Clark's holding steady. But it's been three
weeks."

"So?" Lois argued. "That's hardly any time at all. Don't
people go months or years on these things?"

"Lois..."

"Please, Daddy. Give us more time."

"I'm not telling you to make a decision now. All I'm saying is
that you all should probably start thinking about the future, and
what you might want to do."

"I won't give up. He wouldn't want me to. I promised him I
wouldn't."

"You also have to think about what he would want for *himself*,
Lois. Would he really want to spend the rest of his life hooked
up to machines? I'm not saying that I know the answer to that.
You and his parents know him better than anyone."

"I *can't* make the decision to end my husband's life," Lois
said, teary eyed.

"That's why you *all* need to discuss this," Sam said gently.
"In the meantime, I promise I'll keep working on a cure. But,
the truth is, Bernie and I have already exhausted every option
and out-of-the-box idea possible. And every in-the-box one. There
simply isn't a box anymore, that's how extensive our
experiments have been. I'm sorry. I wish I had better news."

"I know. And I appreciate it, Daddy."

She couldn't force herself to speak further until her father had
left the room again. Even then, it was Jonathan who dared to
broach the fragile silence of the room.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted, sounding miserable as
he stared at his hands.

"We fight," Lois said.

"Normally, I'd agree," Jonathan replied. "But given the
circumstances, I'm not sure this is a fight we can win."

"Lois is right. We can't give up now," Martha said, sounding
surprisingly calm, as she often seemed to be during a crisis.

"No. Not now," Jonathan said. "But, if the worst comes, we
need to know at what point we..." The words seemed stuck in his
throat. He cleared it quietly and tried again. "We let Clark
pass with what dignity he has left."

"I never thought it would come to this," Martha lamented. "I
always accepted the dangers Clark faced, ever since he decided to
become Superman. But this? It still feels unreal."

Lois put her arm around her mother-in-law. "I know. Clark said
something similar to me before things got really bad."

"He's always been so strong," Martha said, shaking her head.

"He still is," Jonathan put in. "He's still with us, right
now."

"Right now," Lois agreed. "Right now we defend him like he's
always done for everyone else. We give Daddy and Dr. Klein more
time."

***

"Hi, Clark," Lois said as she came to his bedside. Two weeks
had passed since Sam had tried talking to her about taking Clark
off life support. Two weeks where she had wondered if she was
doing the wrong thing and only prolonging Clark's suffering, but
knowing that she couldn't give up on him. "I know, I know.
It's early. I couldn't sleep. It's getting so hard to find a
comfortable position in bed. And our son must have been throwing
a rave last night. Plus, I just haven't slept all that well
since you were admitted to the hospital. I miss having you in bed
next to me." She smoothed his hair and kissed his forehead.
"Your parents are here too. They haven't been sleeping well
either. They're loading up on snacks and drinks for us
downstairs in the cafeteria. Truth be told though, I'm worried
about them, Clark. They're trying to stay strong and put on a
brave face, but I can see how much they're hurting. Now I see
where you got it from," she mused. "I mean, I think I always
knew it, but lately, I can't help but to see just where you got
a lot of your personality from."

"Lois?" Jonathan called softly.

"Yeah," she called back, in just as light of a voice. "That
was fast."

"Not many people there at this hour," the older man replied,
coming in and sitting down in a chair. "Here's your
breakfast."

"Thanks."

Lois took the proffered bacon, egg, and cheese bagel and took a
bite. She deemed it passable. Clearly Todd wasn't the one
cooking today. She thought it might have been Doug, whose
culinary skills ranked only slightly higher than her own.

*This is sad,* she thought to herself. *I've spent so much time
in this place, and eaten so many meals here, that I can figure
out who's working today based on the way the food tastes.*

The three remained silent, each one letting their own thoughts
keep them company as they ate. Lois wondered how it was that she
could even still taste her food. Nothing had seemed to be the
same since Clark had been hooked up to the life support machines.
Colors had seemed to be more muted. Smells weren't as strong.
Food tasted blander in general. Even her enthusiasm for
decorating the nursery and buying things for their son had lost
its steam. Life itself had lost its appeal for her.

"Clark, honey, it's Mom," Martha said after a while, breaking
the quiet of the room.

Even after all of this time, Lois could see how ill at ease
Clark's parents were, talking to their completely unresponsive
and barely alive son. She gave them immense credit, however, for
doing it for hours on end every single day since they'd arrived
in Metropolis. Mentally exhausted already, she sat back and
allowed Martha to be the one to talk to Clark.

"I picked up that book you've been waiting for since
Christmas," she informed him. "It's big. Twelve hundred pages,
I think. I started reading it last night. I hope you don't mind.
It seemed like it's pretty good so far. You'd like it."

"The farm is doing well this summer," Jonathan put in when
Martha's voice trailed off. "The hired hands say they expect to
see a harvest like we haven't seen in, oh, fifteen years or so.
It certainly makes up for last year's harvest after all that
drought."

"You'd like the strawberries," Martha added. "They've been
so big and juicy this year. I'm not sure I've had better."

"Jimmy has a new girlfriend," Lois said when once more, silence
blanketed the room in a suffocating way. "Kelly's her name.
She's cute. Probably one of the more mature girls I've seen him
date, even though she's fresh out of college. I think she could
be good for him." She paused a moment. "He misses you, you
know. He had an extra ticket for a baseball game the other night
when Kelly was working and I could tell from the way he kept
looking at your desk that he would have given anything to be able
to bring you along."

For a long while, the three spoke to each other and to Clark,
including him in their conversation as a silent fourth
participant. Everything from gossip about old friends, the
weather, and what was going on in the news was covered, but not
once did Clark show any response.

Around four in the afternoon, Jonathan ducked out for a time,
needing to check in with the hired help that was maintaining the
farm for them while they'd been in Metropolis. Only once had
they gone back home, and that was only because one of the pipes
in the house had given out due to age and had needed to be
repaired. The basement, where it had flooded, had needed to be
cleaned and all of the items down there sorted through to see
what had been damaged beyond saving and what could be salvaged.

He'd only been gone a few minutes when Lois started to feel odd.
It was almost like her stomach was tightening up, then relaxing,
only to randomly tighten again. Realization slowly dawned on her
as she sat soundlessly. Martha saw that something was wrong and
grabbed Lois' hands in her own.

"Lois? What's wrong?"

"I don't feel right," she'd managed to say. "I can't be
sure, but I think...I might be having contractions. But it's too
early. He can't be born yet. It's still too early." Fear
leapt, unbidden, into her voice.

"It's okay," Martha had said, taking charge of the situation.
"We're in the best possible place for you," she tried to joke,
making light of things to put Lois at ease. "We're already at
the hospital. We'll just get you over to the maternity ward and
get you checked out. It's probably just false labor, but we'll
have someone take a look at you just to be sure, okay?"

"Okay," Lois said, too afraid that it might be preterm labor to
argue that she wanted to be with Clark.

***

Two hours later, Lois and her child were declared to be the very
picture of health. Scans of the baby and Lois' uterus showed
that everything was normal, and that her contractions were,
indeed, just false labor. To be sure that the baby was not in any
distress, the nurses had hooked Lois up to a fetal monitor and
had watched the baby's heartbeat naturally rise and fall as he
twisted and squirmed within her, or settled down for a moment to
rest.

For close to an hour, Lois had been confined to a bed, all the
while missing her husband. She was so sure that Clark would have
loved to be at her side while their son was being checked. She
could picture the fascination in his eyes as he would have
watched the print-out from the machine, showing rises and dips in
both her contractions and their son's heart rate. Martha had
stayed by her side in Clark's place, and though Lois was
grateful for the support, it hadn't been the same. Even Jonathan
had come to show his support, though he'd been content to wait
for the women in the waiting area and skim through a magazine.

At long last, however, Lois was free to go. As fast as she could,
and despite the doctor's orders to take it easy, she'd rushed
through Metropolis General, making a beeline for Clark's room.
She arrived somewhat breathless and paused outside of his room,
catching her breath.

*It sure is hard to move fast these days,* she mused, rubbing her
nearly seven months pregnant belly.

Then she plunged into Clark's room, only to stop short a second
or two after she entered. Everything was exactly where she'd
left things. Except for Clark.

Clark was missing.

"Clark?" Lois called out frantically. "*Clark?*"

"What's going on?" Jonathan asked, puffing slightly from
trying to keep up with his determined and single-minded
daughter-in-law.

"Clark's gone," Lois said, almost screaming and near
hysterics.

"Gone?" Martha asked, trailing her husband by a step or two.

It was true. All traces of Clark had vanished from the room. His
bed was empty, the pillow still creased from where his head had
laid not two hours before, when Lois had last seen him. The
machines that had been keeping him alive were gone -- the room's
silence without the various beeps and whooshes was deafeningly
loud.

"Oh, God," Lois pleaded, tears flowing, her body shaking.
"*Clark!* Where are you?"

"Perhaps I can answer that," came a new voice, unbelievably
calm in the midst of Lois' panic.

Lois wheeled around, toward the source of the voice. At first,
the person standing there didn't register in her mind. But when
it did, all she could think was 'how?'

"*Zara?*" she stuttered after a moment of gaping, as the other
woman came to her side and touched her shoulder.

Zara smiled in confirmation. "Hello, Lois."

"What's happened to Clark? Is he...he...he...?" She couldn't
force herself to finish.

"He's in surgery," the ruler of New Krypton said, looking Lois
in the eyes. "He's getting a new heart."

"How?" Lois asked. Then, catching herself, "Not that I'm
ungrateful, mind you. But, *how?*"

Zara shook her head and looked around pointedly. "Not here, not
if we value our privacy," she said in a hushed tone.

Lois nodded. She knew they wouldn't be able to wait things out
in Clark's room. But the waiting room would offer them no
privacy at all.

"Where to?" she asked.

Zara smiled conspiratorially, though Lois caught a hint of
sadness behind it. "Come closer. All of you."

Lois waited while Jonathan and Martha stepped closer. When they
are all within an arm's reach, Zara touched her right wrist with
her left hand, where Lois knew a highly sophisticated control
panel was located. She pressed a button and a white light
engulfed the four of them. Lois had to close her eyes against the
brightness, and when she was finally able to open them again, she
found herself in a familiar setting.

"Your ship?" she asked.

Zara nodded. "I thought it would offer us the most comfortable
and private location. There is so much to tell you, and I'm sure
you have a hundred questions."

"More like a hundred thousand," Lois said.

"And I will do my best to answer them all. Please, sit," Zara
offered, as four comfortable looking and plush chairs sprang into
existence. "I'll be back in a moment."

Zara turned and left, disappearing through a doorway. Lois sat,
and was surprised by how comfortable the chairs actually were. It
almost felt as if it had been contoured specifically for her
pregnant body. The aches in her lower back disappeared and a foot
rest appeared out of thin air as she imagined how much more
comfortable she'd be with her feet up.

"I never thought we'd see her again," Jonathan said in a low,
wary voice.

Lois knew that Clark's parents bore no ill-will to Clark's
former birth wife, but it had to be difficult for them to be on
Zara's ship. After all, the one time they'd been aboard a
Kryptonian vessel, they'd been used as evidence by a deranged
lunatic in his effort to have their son killed.

"Neither did I," Lois agreed.

Oddly, enough, it was comforting to see the woman. She'd never
been able to hate Zara, even when the Kryptonian had been married
to Clark. It hadn't been her fault, and Lois had known that
Clark would stay true to his word to only be hers -- one heart
with her, regardless of the uncountable miles between Earth and
New Krypton. Sure, Lois had felt bitterly jealous of Zara --
after all, the woman *had* been married to the love of Lois'
life and, as far as Lois knew at the time, she was never going to
be able to see Clark again, let alone hug him, kiss him, make
love to him.

"To be honest," Zara said, returning, holding a small bundle in
her arms, "I never expected to see Earth or any of you again
either."

It took Lois a moment before she realized that the bundle Zara
was holding was a swaddled infant. A girl, if the pale pink
blanket was any indication. Next to Zara's empty chair, a
bassinet looking piece of furniture appeared, though it was
unlike any Lois had ever seen. Zara placed the child down,
smoothed the blanket she was swaddled in, and smiled before
seating herself.

"Congratulations. She's beautiful," Lois said, peering over at
the infant. Then, realizing as she looked around, "Where's
Ching?"

"Thank you," Zara said, her eyes misting over. "This is Kala,
named, in part for your husband because Ching was so indebted to
him for finding a way for us to be together. Ching...is actually
the reason why I came here, to Earth. But the story goes back
further than that. It's easier if I explain it from the
beginning."

Lois nodded. "Okay, but one more question first. You said Clark
was in surgery. How? No one's been able to find a fix for his
heart."

"He's getting the transplant that he needs," Zara said, a bit
elusively. "A Kryptonian heart to keep him alive and well."

"A transplant?" Martha asked, incredulous.

Zara nodded.

"But that would mean..." Lois said slowly. "Who?"

"Someone worthy enough of living on, in part, through Kal-El."

Dread flooded Lois, along with understanding. "Ching?"

Again, Zara nodded. "I'm afraid so."

Lois felt tears well up in her eyes. At first, she had hated
Ching with a passion, for all of the horrendous tests he'd put
Clark through. But as she'd come to know the man and his
motives, and even come to work with him once Clark had returned
home to stop Lord Nor from his planned hostile takeover of Earth,
she'd found herself coming to like the man and even respect him.
His death was a powerful blow to her heart.

"I'm so sorry," the three said together, nearly with one
voice. "What happened?" Lois added.

Zara sighed heavily. "It all started a couple of months ago,
just after Kala was born. A ruthless race of beings called
Zorteps set eyes on our struggling planet, just as we were
starting to see some changes for the better -- things Ching and I
had seen here and tried to implement in our home world. The
Zorteps hail from an even less inviting planet called Zaranthall,
from a galaxy you here on Earth have not yet discovered. *We*
barely even knew of it, and it was closer to us than it was to
Earth."

"They wanted your home?" Lois guessed.

"Not quite. It turns out, New Krypton's core was rich in gasses
that Zaranthall was running out of. Gasses the Zorteps needed to
sustain life on their planet. They wanted our supply, but doing
so..." She shrugged.

"It would have been Krypton all over again," Lois said,
understanding. "It would have destroyed the planet's core."

"Causing the planet to explode," Jonathan finished for her.

"Exactly," Zara said, looking far older than Lois had ever
known her to look. "They attacked us, in the middle of the
night. There had been no warning signs, no threats, no attempts
at negotiations. Just a precise, deadly, and completely
unanticipated strike."

"That's horrible!" Martha exclaimed.

"A lot of people died that night. Good people. Families, for the
most part. We mounted an immediate counterstrike, of course. And
for a while, we held our own. But that initial attack was not
much more than a scouting party, as we later found out. Their
army arrived in full, out-manning us in every way. They had at
least fifteen soldiers for every one of us. And I mean *every*
one of us. Old men, pregnant women, children."

"I remember you saying that only a thousand or so people had
escaped Krypton's demise," Lois said, a profound sadness
washing over her as she saw where Zara's story was heading.

"We never stood a chance," Zara said, her tone of voice telling
Lois that she knew Lois had already foreseen how the story would
end. "Even if we'd been able to arm every single person, we
never could have won."

"How many survived?" Lois asked.

"Three."

"Three?" Martha repeated, her face falling.

"When the ships arrived, bringing more of the enemy, we tried to
evacuate. Ching and I waited until the last Kryptonian was safely
loaded onto the floating palace. It was our duty to ensure the
safety of our people. We watched the vessel lift off and cloak,
hopeful that everyone would be okay. Our plan was to take our own
ship and rendezvous with the palace once we were all out of
imminent danger. The Elders had insisted that we take a separate
ship, just in case something happened. The Zorteps must have had
some kind of radar that could detect cloaked ships. As Ching,
Kala, and myself lifted off in our own ship, we saw a massive
explosion in the upper atmosphere."

"Are you sure it was the palace?" Martha asked, aghast.

Zara nodded sadly. "There was no mistaking the pieces of
wreckage that we saw falling to the surface, the cloaking
stripped away as the computers failed. Ching and I were lucky.
The Zorteps must have thought they got us all in that one
explosion. We escaped, our ship unscathed."

"I'm so sorry, Zara," Lois offered sincerely. But in the pit
of her stomach, a cold fear grew, alongside the immense grief she
felt over an entire race brought nearly to extinction in one fell
swoop.

*Clark could have been a part of that, *she thought to herself.
*He could have been killed in a hostile takeover, even if he'd
survived whatever Nor might have thrown at him on New Krypton. *

"Thank you," Zara replied, choked up as she recalled the
events.

"And Ching?" Jonathan prompted after a moment. "What happened
to him?"

Zara's entire face fell as she recounted the events. "As you
know, Ching was an accomplished military man. He was, by no
means, our *most* talented warrior, but he ranked among the top
fighters. I tried to talk him into leaving the fighting to the
others. After all, Krypton needed a leader. He wouldn't hear of
it. Knowing Kal...ah, Clark, even for such a short time as he
did, changed my husband. He wouldn't heed my pleas. He said that
any leader worth his salt would fight alongside his men, not hide
while others risked their lives. He could not ask them to do what
he himself was unwilling to."

"That *does* sound like something Clark would say," Jonathan
said with a fond smile.

"The last time he went out into the battlefield, he took a
plasma bolt in his abdomen. It was a serious wound, but he
refused to let it slow him down. He made certain that every last
citizen of New Krypton was onboard the mother ship, then got Kala
and me to our own ship."

"It caught up with him, didn't it?" Lois asked gently.

"As soon as we were in the clear, and that it was evident that
no one was coming after us, he let me tend to his wound, but
*only* then. We couldn't stop the bleeding for a long time. I
put us on course for Earth, hoping we'd get there on time, so
that your yellow sun could heal him. But the plasma bolt that had
hit him was different from anything I've ever seen. It didn't
just wound him. It continued to eat away at him rapidly, leaving
him in agony. I did the best I could, pumping him full of
painkillers, and it seemed to take away most of his pain. But
that was all I could do. Traditional treatments would not work."
She paused and appeared to gather herself for the next part,
swallowing hard before she could continue. "We arrived too late.
Ching died of his wound before we could reach the light of your
sun. I used the ship's onboard medical supplies to freeze his
body, in an effort to preserve it so that I could give him a
proper funeral once I landed."

Zara dabbed at her eyes and Lois rose from her chair. She went
over to the grieving widow and new mother, putting her arms
around her in a comforting hug, knowing that her gesture was
woefully inadequate. She felt like she should have been able to
do so much more for Zara.

"He was a great man," she whispered sadly as she hugged the
woman.

After a moment, Lois pulled back and returned to her seat. She
settled into the cushioning, resting her body while her mind
swirled with rampant thoughts.

What was happening to Clark now? Was the surgery going well?
Would his body reject Ching's heart? Would he have to hang up
Superman's cape for good? How had Zara known that Clark needed
the heart in the first place?

"Zara, I want you to know how grateful I am -- how grateful we
all are -- that Clark is receiving his transplant," Lois said
after a minute. "But...how did you know?"

Kala stirred sleepily in her bassinet. Before Zara answered
Lois' question, she stood and picked the child up and rocked her
in her arms. She paced, bouncing the infant ever so softly as she
spoke.

"I knew something was wrong when we attained the outer reaches
of Earth's atmosphere," Zara said, her voice sounding even more
hollow and distant than it had during her recollection of the
last days of New Krypton's existence. "I tried to connect to
him, telepathically. But, I couldn't locate him. Ching was gone,
I had nowhere else to go. So, I cloaked the ship and brought it
in closer, hovering once I was above Metropolis. It wasn't easy,
but I finally located the sound of your voice. How Kal-El does it
without even trying is beyond me. Truly, there is a special bond
between you two."

Lois nodded. "He's always said he could find me by the sound of
my heartbeat alone."

Zara smiled sadly and continued to pace. Kala had since stopped
fussing, and had drifted back into a peaceful sleep.

"I finally found you in Kal's...I mean, Clark's room at the
hospital. My apologies. After a lifetime of calling him Kal-El,
my tongue seems slow to get used to his Earth name. But, by the
time I could settle Kala down, you weren't there. His medical
chart, however, answered all of my questions. As I was looking it
over, a Dr. Klein came into the room to check on Clark. He
recognized me immediately as one of the ones who'd been with
Superman when he'd said his goodbyes to the people of Earth. He
then let me know that he knew of Clark's...differences, once he
seemed sure that I was also in the know."

Jonathan automatically bristled at the compromise of Clark's
secret, but then seemed to think better of it. Lois couldn't
fault him for it. It was simply a reflex, to want Clark's secret
to remain locked up as safe and secure as possible. But in this
one, rare case, Lois was thankful that Dr. Klein had trusted the
knowledge with Zara.

"He told me that Clark's time was growing dangerously short. I
said that I could provide a heart for a transplant, but that he
needed to hurry. Ching had already been dead for five hours."

"That explains why no one contacted us," Lois said, knowing
from her research that, for humans at least, five to six hours
was the maximum time for maintaining the viability of a heart.

"Dr. Klein said that Clark had already filled out paperwork,
granting him the ability to do a transplant, in case the worst
should happen and he would be unable to sign for himself if a
heart or procedure was suddenly found."

Lois remembered the forms in question. Clark had filled them out
shortly after he'd been admitted to the hospital that first day,
hours before the heart attack that had left him on life support.

"I returned to my ship and sent Ching's body to the operating
room that Dr. Klein directed me to, and to feed Kala. I heard you
in Clark's room not long after," she said, looking toward Lois,
"and beamed back down to tell you everything."

"It's a miracle," Martha said, tears in her eyes. "You
appeared just when things looked bleakest. And then, to find that
Clark and Ching were a match..." Her voice trailed off.

Zara stopped pacing and sat, still cradling her daughter. "Well,
I will confess that it was never an issue of finding a matching
donor. Kryptonian DNA is different from that of Earthlings. We
don't, for example, have differing blood types. Any one of the
people on New Krypton could have been Clark's donor."

"I can't tell you what this means to us all," Martha said,
shaking her head as if embarrassed by the inadequacy of her
words.

Zara looked down at the baby in her arms before speaking. "I'm
just glad that at least one good thing could come from my
husband's death. It helps ease some of the pain, knowing that
his death wasn't in vain."

"He did what he thought was best for his people -- your
people," Lois reminded her. "He was a hero. He always was. He
always put everyone else before himself, even at the expense of
his own happiness."

"He was a good man," Jonathan agreed. Though he and Martha had
only briefly met Ching during the New Krypton Incident, as they
had come to call it, Clark had spoken highly of the man to them.

For several long minutes, no one spoke. Everyone seemed to be
weighing all they had learned, digesting the information, and
mourning Ching's passing. Lois felt so conflicted. On the one
hand, she was devastated that the man had died, leaving Zara a
widow and never having the chance to see his baby girl grow up.
On the other, she was elated that Clark was getting a heart, the
one thing he needed most in order to be able to see his son be
born and grow up into a man. And that same elation made her feel
so incredibly guilty, that she could take any relief and hope
from a friend's death -- that she could dare to feel such
happiness when Zara's heart was so clearly breaking.

"You should return to the hospital," Zara finally said. "I'm
unfamiliar with surgical practices on Earth or how long they
last. You may be needed to answer questions. Certainly someone
will want to inform you of what's going on."

Lois nodded. "Come with us."

Zara hesitated. "I should probably stay here."

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone right
now," Lois said. "I think it's better if you come with us. I
know it won't take your grief away, but it might help ease the
pain. Besides, as far as I'm concerned, you're family. I don't
let family suffer alone."

Again, Zara hesitated, but slowly came to nod. "Thank you. I
guess it *would* be nice to be around others."

Lois' stomach rumbled. "Come on. We'll even load up on...how
did you put it? Nutritionally worthless snack foods?"

***

Lois glared at the clock on the wall in the waiting area as if
she could will time to move faster just because she wanted it to.
She got up and walked the length of the area, throwing her fourth
bottle of water in as many hours away as she continued on to the
ladies' room.

*Everyone warned me about this,* she thought as she squeezed into
the narrow stall. *I just never imagined how true their warnings
were.*

She finished, washed her hands, and dried them under the hand
drier twice. When her hands still remained moist, she rolled her
eyes and used her maternity shorts, wiping her hands on her hips.
She eyed the hand drier disdainfully as she did so, as well as
the sign above it, stating that, in an effort to be "greener"
and eliminate paper waste, the hospital had done away with paper
towels in the restrooms.

*Thanks for your cooperation indeed,* she thought scornfully.

She was still awaiting word from anyone on how Clark's surgery
was going -- the only update she'd received thus far had been
from Sandy, one of Clark's regular nurses, who had been relieved
to find Lois to let her know that Clark had been brought in for
surgery. She had to assume that it was going well. She could not
imagine it otherwise. She didn't know what she would do if the
surgery failed. She couldn't lose Clark. She couldn't let
Ching's death and Zara's sacrifice be in vain. But, regardless
of what she wanted to believe, she still would have liked some
status update on her husband.

She sat back in her seat in a huff. Jonathan and Martha were in
the midst of a whispered discussion. Lois imagined it was likely
nothing more than idle chat to keep their frayed nerves from
snapping completely. Zara was singing softly to Kala as the baby
sucked greedily at the bottle that was being offered to her. In
the far corner, a teenage boy was absorbed completely into his
handheld game, his brow creased in concentration while his father
flipped through a hunting and fishing magazine. No one else was
in the room at this hour, but earlier Lois had seen two other
sets of families given news about their loved ones and sent to
the recovery areas.

Her pager beeped. A quick glance told her it was Perry. She
ignored it. She had called earlier to let him know that Clark was
in surgery. That had been a mistake, she realized in hindsight.
He'd beeped in twice already. She had ignored those as well. Now
she turned the device off and tossed it to the bottom of her
purse.

"She really is beautiful," Lois said as she peered over at
Kala. "I see a lot of you in her."

"Thank you. She has her father's expressions, I think."

The baby scrunched up her face into a pout as she finished the
bottle and Zara moved her to her shoulder to burp her. Lois
couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her as she watched.

"She really does!" she said, still chuckling.

Zara laughed as well, just as the baby let out a huge burp. "She
burps just like him too," she added wistfully. "Was that Perry
again?"

Lois nodded. "Yeah."

"You should call him. He's probably going out of his mind with
worry. I saw the way he looks at you and Clark. You're his
children in all but blood."

Lois sighed. "I know. But I can't help feeling that as soon as
I step away, news about Clark will come through that door."

"If it does, the doctor will wait," Zara assured her. "Go. Put
his mind at ease."

"I guess," Lois grumbled.

Still, she pushed herself up out of her seat and walked to the
hallway. She took her cell phone out of her purse as soon as she
deemed it acceptable, not going far unless a doctor came out, but
far enough that she wouldn't disturb the others in the waiting
area. She quickly dialed Perry's home number. He sounded tired
when he picked up, and Lois felt terrible that she could offer no
real news, but promised she would call once she knew more. Then
she was once again at Zara's side.

Another twenty minutes passed. Then, finally, the door leading to
the operating rooms opened. A doctor stepped out and, for a
moment, Lois' hopes flared.

"Mr. Davis?" the woman called, and the man on the far end of
the room stood in answer.

Lois sighed again, nervously balling and flexing her fingers. Ten
more minutes dragged slowly by. Out of the corner of her eye,
Lois could see Mr. Davis and the doctor talking. She saw him
collapse to his seat in relief. Even the boy with him put down
his game as he gave his father a joyous hug.

The doctor led them away, smiling, to wherever their family
member was. Lois could only hope and pray that her turn would
come soon. Five minutes later, as if in response to her unvoiced
thoughts, Sam Lane staggered through the door, looking a little
worse for wear. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes and yawned.

Lois stood as soon as she saw him.

"Daddy?" she asked, her voice half a statement, half a pleading
question.

"Lois," was all Sam said, his voice low and heavy from all the
sleepless nights she knew he'd spent in trying to find a way to
save Clark.

He hugged his daughter as soon as he was within her arm's reach.
Lois felt his body sag a little as her arms closed around him.
For a silent minute, she merely let him hug her, before she
finally pulled away to look him in the eyes.

"Daddy? Is Clark...?"

"He's okay," Sam said with a tired smile. "He's okay.
Bernie's getting him moved back to his room now to recover. He
figured it would be better in terms of privacy."

"Clark's okay? He's going to live?" Lois asked, needing her
father to say it again, relief and disbelief dueling in her heart
after so long a time harboring doubts where they were visible to
neither Clark nor his parents.

"*Yes!*" Jonathan cried at the same time, gathering Martha into
his arms.

"He's just fine. He's going to live a long, healthy, happy
life, God willing," Sam said. "The transplant was a success.
The heart started beating with almost no coaxing on our behalf --
like it knew how important it was that Clark live. And, with the
information your friend here," he nodded in Zara's direction,
"gave us, we don't need to worry about the risk of rejection,
though I'm sure Bernie will want to keep him under observation
for a time."

"Thank you, Daddy," Lois whispered, burying her head in his
shoulder as she hugged him again. This time, her tears were those
of pure bliss and the release of all her pent-up fears.

"I don't know how to thank you, Sam," Jonathan said, clapping
the doctor on the shoulder. "This is the second time that
you've saved my boy's life. That's a debt I don't know I'll
ever be able to repay."

"Clark already has," Sam said. "He's made my little girl the
happiest I've ever seen her in my life. That's something I was
never very good at -- making either of my daughters all that
happy."

"Can we see him?" Lois asked, barely letting Sam finish
speaking.

"Soon. Let's give Dr. Klein some time to make sure Clark is
settled into his room, okay? It shouldn't be much longer."

The extra wait should have annoyed Lois. She knew that under
normal circumstances, it would have. But not today. Today she was
just so happy that she was going to be able to see Clark, and not
in the morgue or in a casket, that ten minutes or even ten hours
longer seemed the smallest price to pay for that privilege.

"How did the surgery go?" Martha wanted to know.

"Overall, better than I expected, all things considered. With
Clark's...uniqueness...I mean. And then the harvest...I just
anticipated that it would be more difficult. But that, ah, little
bit of help that Bernie supplied..." Sam shrugged as he
purposefully remained as vague as possible. The waiting room was
now empty, but none of Clark's family could ever be trusting
enough to speak of Kryptonite or anything else related to
Superman aloud. "Well, it surpassed my expectations. It allowed
the surgery to go smoothly. Not only the cutting and repair work,
but it also allowed him to tolerate the extra machines and
anesthesia, which, to be frank, I had been nervous about. Anyway,
no one in the room knew that I had the, shall we say, good luck
charm with me. Well, actually, with your mother. Bernie fashioned
a pendant out of a small piece that she wore on a leather thong
around her neck. He slipped it to her before the surgery, and she
was just giving it back to him for safe keeping when I came to
find you."

"You're *sure* no one noticed?" Lois asked, fearing for
Clark's secret.

"Absolutely," he said, giving her a sly smile. "I kept
checking the line of sight on it throughout the surgery. It was
safely tucked away beneath her scrubs."

Lois breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"And what of my husband?" Zara asked in a quiet voice.

"Last I saw, he was being sewn back up. They'll take him to the
morgue until you can decide exactly what you want to do with him.
There's no rush, of course. You can take whatever time you
need."

Zara nodded in response. "I'll have to think of an appropriate
alternative to our usual customs."

"Is Clark awake yet?" Lois asked suddenly.

Sam shook his head. "Not yet, but it probably won't be too much
longer until the anesthesia wears off. Actually," he looked up
and squinted at the clock on the wall, "why don't you head to
his room now? I'm sure he's got to be all settled in by now."

"Are you coming too?" Martha asked.

Again, Sam shook his head. "Later. This is your time. Go on.
I'm going to go find Ellen and try to get a couple hours of
sleep."

Lois smiled and hugged Sam again. "Okay. Thanks, Daddy."

Martha and Jonathan both took turns hugging and thanking Sam as
well, before they all headed back to Clark's room, for the first
time looking forward to seeing the sterile and all-too-familiar
room. Had she been physically capable of it, Lois would have run
the entire way to Clark. But her rapidly expanding waistline held
her back, the baby within kicking wildly. Lois put her hand
lovingly over the movement.

*Soon,* she thought. *Soon you'll be able to feel your active
little son, Clark. I can't wait. I was starting to become afraid
this day would never come.*

"Clark?" she called as she reached his room, before she could
open the door fully, before she could even step foot over the
threshold.

"He's still not awake," Rhonda, one of Clark's personal
nursing staff said, as she scrawled notes on his chart. "But
everything looks great, Mrs. Kent. Better than I can recall
seeing for anyone just out of surgery."

"Thanks, Rhonda. Did Dr. Klein leave word?"

"Only that he would be by in the morning to check on things."

"Okay."

"I'll be around all night. If he starts to wake, hit the call
button so I can remove his breathing tube. Okay?"

"Got it."

The nurse flashed a brilliant smile. "I'll see you soon
then."

Lois took her customary seat after Jonathan pushed it as close to
the head of Clark's bed as he could, wedging it between the bed
and the windows. She kissed Clark's brow before she sat, mindful
not to bump into his breathing tube. Then she smoothed the hair
from his forehead, pushing it to one side, before taking his hand
in her own.

"I'm here, Clark," she told him. "I'm here and you are going
to be just fine. All you need to do is wake up. Please, Clark.
Wake up and show me how well you've come through this ordeal."

But Clark slumbered on, and Lois had to wonder how much
anesthesia he'd been administered to ensure that he would feel
nothing during the transplant. Now, even in the dimness of the
room -- the shades drawn against the deepening night -- Clark
seemed to almost glow with life. His once ashen skin had begun to
pink up with health as his new heart beat strongly in his chest.
His breathing was steady and even, the work of the machines, but
Lois imagined that it didn't look quite as labored as it had
once appeared to her. He looked, for the first time since he'd
arrived at the hospital some weeks before, to be peaceful.

Kala began to stir in Zara's arms. Lois held out her arms,
offering Zara the chance to relax for a while. She felt bad for
the new mother -- alone with a young infant, on a planet that was
still alien to her, regardless of the short time she'd spent
living on Earth before trying to convince Clark to help New
Krypton avoid war. Zara looked a little relieved at Lois'
offer.

"Here," Lois said. "Let me." She smiled up at Zara as the
other woman closed the distance and laid the baby in Lois' arms.
"I need the practice."

Zara smiled for an instant as well. "Just hold her head," she
cautioned, though Lois was already supporting Kala's tiny head
and neck.

"I've got her," Lois cooed to the baby. "Who's a precious
little angel? You are. Yes, you are. Kala's a precious little
angel."

"You're good with her," Zara observed as the baby quieted
down, looking about the room with wide, curious eyes.

"I hope so," Lois confessed. "I worry about how this little
guy is going to take to his mom." She nodded downward at her
stomach. "But you are giving me hope, little missy." She let
the baby grab her finger and guide it to her mouth to suck on. In
moments, the girl was asleep.

Suddenly, Clark's head moved, the way it always did when he woke
from a deep sleep. Lois recognized the familiar and much missed
movement immediately. She gently pulled her finger from Kala's
mouth and slammed the digit into the "call" button on the rails
to Clark's bed.

Rhonda came running.

"He's waking up!" Lois cried, happy tears racing from her
eyes.

Rhonda was at Clark's side in the blink of an eye. She shushed
him as his movements became more frantic. His eyes opened a slit
and his hands reached for the tube in his throat.

"Relax, Mr. Kent," Rhonda said, grabbing his wrists to stop his
movements. "I'm going to take the tube out for you, okay? Just
breathe out when I tell you to."

Clark couldn't respond but he did stop struggling. Rhonda
grabbed the end of the tube.

"Ready? And breathe out."

Clark did as he was told. The tube came up and out of his throat
with a wet noise. Clark coughed and gasped as he got used to the
sensation of not having the plastic tube down his throat, taking
up his entire airway.

"Okay?" Rhonda asked.

Clark nodded. "I think so." His voice was raw and gravelly to
Lois' ears. It appeared to hurt to talk and possibly even more
to swallow, Lois observed as she watched him. "Am I dead?"

Lois reached for his hand. "No, sweetie. You're alive. You got
your heart. You're going to be just fine."

"My throat hurts," Clark rasped, wincing a little.

"Your throat will be a little sore for a day or so. It's from
the tube. But it will be better before you know it," Rhonda
said. "You can drink some water if you want, but sip, don't
gulp."

"Can he have some tea?" Lois asked, knowing that her husband
took great comfort from a hot cup of tea.

"Sure thing. Just no food until I clear it with his doctors."

"I'm not hungry anyway," Clark said.

"I'll get the tea," Jonathan offered. "It's good to see you
awake, son."

"Thanks, Dad. It's good to *be* awake."

Jonathan followed Rhonda out of the room. Clark lolled his head
to the side and smiled at Lois. Unable to stop herself, she
leaned in and kissed his lips -- those soft, inviting lips that
she had missed so dearly while he'd been hooked to the
ventilator.

"I missed you," she breathed when she pulled back.

"I missed you too. Wait. How long was I out?" he asked,
catching sight, for the first real time, of the baby in her
arms.

"Oh! A few weeks. And she's not ours."

"Whose then?" he rasped out.

"Mine," Zara said softly, stepping into his field of view.

"Zara? How?" he asked, confused. He'd never expected to see
her again, Lois knew, though he'd admitted to her that he'd
wished, more than once, that he could contact her, not just since
his heart had begun to give out, but ever since she and Ching had
returned to New Krypton. He'd wondered how they and the planet
had been doing. "Is Ching here?"

"Kind of," Lois said gently.

"What do you mean?"

"He's the one...Clark...there's no easy way to say this.
Clark...the heart you received...it's Ching's," Lois said,
breaking the news as gently as she could.

"What?" Clark's entire face fell.

"It's a long story," Lois said. "When you're feeling
stronger..."

"I can handle it," Clark interrupted her. "Please."

Lois and Zara shared a look as Jonathan came back with a steaming
cup of tea. Lois accepted the pink plastic mug and held it out to
Clark, who sipped it gingerly through the straw. Lois knew his
powers weren't restored yet -- he'd need the sunlight for that,
and that was still hours away. If he drank too deeply and too
quickly, he would scald his mouth.

"Thanks, Dad," Clark said after taking a sip and closing his
eyes in bliss. "Oolong, huh?"

"We've kept some in the room since the beginning, just in
case," his father said with a smile.

"You guys are something else," Clark replied, with a mild shake
of his head. "But, please. I need to know. What happened to
Ching? And how did you know to come, Zara?"

"I didn't. Things just sort of...fell into place."

"Something tells me you aren't here on vacation. What happened
on New Krypton?"

Zara lowered her eyes. "It's gone."

"Gone?"

"Destroyed by an alien race. It and everyone on it. Ching, Kala,
and I were the only ones to escape, but Ching was injured and
succumbed to his wounds before we could reach your yellow sun. I
tried to contact you and eventually found that you were in
critical condition. I did the only thing I could do -- give you
Ching's heart so that you could live."

"I can't even begin to thank you. Or imagine how difficult all
of this has to have been for you," Clark said.

Lois caught the glimmer of a tear in his eye. That hurt her heart
to see. It was rare indeed when Clark's emotions ran so high
that he was moved to tears. She knew that Clark had considered
Ching to be a brother of sorts, in a way that was different from
the brother-like relationship he shared with Jimmy. He had more
in common with Jimmy, but with Ching, there had been a mutual
respect that had gone beyond words.

"I'm glad that I could help," Zara assured him.

"You need to rest," Martha reminded Clark, as he sipped again
from the straw.

"I've rested enough," Clark said dismissively. "I've missed
so much."

"Not *that* much," Lois said giving him a tender smile. "And
your mother is right."

"I know. But I'm not ready to sleep again. Not yet," he
pleaded.

The four exchanged a look as Zara took Kala from Lois' arms.
Lois took the opportunity to stand by Clark's head. She grabbed
his hand and placed it on the spot where their son was doing what
felt like a Riverdance routine. At first, Clark seemed confused
as she positioned his palm, but after a moment his face lit up in
sheer amazement and bliss.

"Incredible," he whispered hoarsely.

"I've been waiting for this moment," Lois confided with a
grin. "I used to let you feel his kicks while you were asleep,
but I could scarcely wait for the moment when you'd be
completely aware of what was happening."

"Thank you, Lois," he said in wonderment. "This is the most
amazing thing I've ever felt."

Lois gave him a mischievous smile. "Just wait until I put my
stomach to your back and let him kick you all night long."

Clark smiled back, making Lois' heart skip a beat. She'd missed
that brilliantly devastating smile *so* much. Every day, multiple
times a day, she'd looked at pictures of him. But the camera
could never do justice to his smile. Somehow, it always dulled
the sparkle in his eyes and managed to lose some of the warmth of
his smile. Still, the photographs had given her the strength she
needed to face each dawning day and every sleepless night. When
she'd actually slept, she'd dreamed about his smile, the way
he'd often chuckle as he did so, waking with a residual happy
feeling throughout her body until she'd remembered the reality
of the situation, and the all-too-real fact that she might never
see it again.

Now, however, that smile was back and her heart ached with joy to
see it.

"If it means that I'll be home and able to share a bed with you
again, I'll enjoy every sleepless moment this little boy will
bring us," he said with complete sincerity. He closed his eyes
for a moment while he snuggled back into his pillows a little
deeper. "What else?"

"Well," Lois said slowly, thinking, "Ralph got fired from the
Planet."

"What? How? I thought he was some bigwig's nephew, and that's
why Perry hadn't fired him yet."

"Yeah, well, that's before he sold information about your
condition to the Inquisitor. The Planet was a media circus for
about a week. I wound up living here, in the hospital for several
days because our house became an instant target for every
newspaper and television station in New Troy. One of the
downsides to being the hottest reporting team for a world
renowned paper. Anyway, even Ralph's uncle didn't want him
associated with the Planet after that."

"Yikes," Clark said, his voice heavy with the exhaustion that
Lois knew had to be clinging to him.

"Perry wasn't all that sad to see him go," Lois said with a
smirk. She and Clark had complained to one another numerous times
about Ralph's complete ineptitude.

"I'll bet," Clark said with a chuckle. Raspy as it was, it was
the greatest sound in the entire world to Lois' ears.

"Nothing else of note really happened," Lois said. "All of the
other little details can wait until you've rested."

"She's right, son," Jonathan said, backing her up. "We love
that you're awake and talking, but you need to allow yourself to
start healing so we can get you home."

"Come on, let's give him some privacy, so that he can sleep,"
Martha offered. "Clark, we're so glad you're okay. That and
the fact that Zara came when she did, offering the help you
needed."

Clark nodded. "I know. Zara, I know saying thank you isn't
enough. I swear to you though, I will do everything I can for you
and your daughter. She'll never lack for anything, not if I can
help it. Especially not a fatherly figure. I know I'm not her
father, and I would never, ever try to take Ching's place. But I
will take care of her as though she *was* my own."

"We both will," Lois swore.

***

"How are we feeling?" Dr. Klein asked as he entered the room,
bright and early the next morning. He sounded happier than Lois
could ever remember him sounding in the years they had known
him.

Clark swallowed the sip of water he'd taken through a straw as
Lois held the cup for him before answering. "Better than I
thought I would be."

Lois could see the beginnings of a sparkle in Clark's eyes. It
wasn't completely back, not yet, but it was still encouraging to
see him starting to look like his old self. His throat was still
raw and his voice scratchy, but the sleep he'd gotten had done
wonders for him. He seemed clearer headed and his sense of humor
had returned.

On the other hand, Lois had slept only sporadically. She'd
refused to leave Clark's side. She'd sat up for a long while,
just watching him sleep, in awe of the rising and falling of his
chest without machines having to do it for him. It had been
difficult to surrender herself to sleep. Now that she'd gotten
Clark back, she didn't want to miss a second with him.

"I'm glad to hear it," Dr. Klein said as he approached the
bedside. "Any nausea? Pain? Anything out of the ordinary?"

Clark shook his head. "Not really. I'm a little achy, but
that's about it." He swept his hand an inch or two over his
chest as he spoke.

"You're bound to be a little sore after the operation. I've
got you on pain killers through your IV, but with your
genetics..." He shrugged as his voice trailed off. "It
wouldn't surprise me if it took a day or more before your powers
kick in again and your body begins its normal accelerated
healing. In the meantime, let me take a look at the incision,
okay?"

"Go for it," Clark said with a grin.

Carefully, Dr. Klein removed the surgical tape and sterile gauze
from where it had protected and hidden away his incision. As it
came away, Lois saw the angry red and swollen skin first, then
the line of sliced flesh held together with more stitches than
she cared to count. Dr. Klein checked the wound thoroughly, then
swapped the bloody gauze for fresh and clean bandages. Lois
averted her eyes, away from the blood. Normally, blood didn't
bother her much, but seeing Clark's always had. He was
*Superman*! If he was bleeding, it was *never* a good sign.

"Stitches?" Lois asked as she watched Dr. Klein work.

He nodded absently. "Mmm hmm. Staples are the norm, but I was
afraid his body might reject them as he heals. These stitches
will absorb into his body, in case he heals too swiftly for us to
get them out in time."

"Makes sense," Lois said, her eyes glued to the gash down
Clark's chest.

"The wound looks good so far," Dr. Klein said cheerfully. He
seemed almost ready to laugh in his relief over Clark's
improving condition.

"It's hideous," Clark whispered, looking down. "Will it leave
a scar?"

"Normally, yes," Dr. Klein admitted. "In your case, however, I
don't know. I would imagine that, once your body is able to heal
itself, it probably won't leave any trace behind that it was
ever there."

"Good," Clark said, his voice indicating that he would prefer
not to have a reminder of how close he'd come to dying.

Lois sat silently. In her mind, at least, the incision was
beautiful. It wasn't a reminder of Clark's dance with death. It
was a symbol of his life, his will to live, and the ultimate
sacrifice of a friend.

***

"Ready?" Lois asked Clark as they stood together in Perry's
office.

"As I'll ever be," he replied, smiling.

"It feels like a lifetime ago since we were last in here like
this, waiting for Superman to address the world."

"That was the worst day of my life," Clark agreed.

It still pained him deeply to think about the day he'd turned
his back on Lois, his parents, and the world at large. True,
he'd been doing what he'd felt was right. In his heart, he knew
he could never just leave New Krypton to perish under war and
leave Zara to be wed to a psychopath. But he'd done so at the
expense of everyone he'd held dear -- not knowing if he could
ever return to them, not knowing if he'd ever hold Lois in his
arms again.

Perry opened the door and poked his head in. "We're almost
ready for you, Superman. LNN's having some microphone issues. It
should be sorted out in a couple of minutes, they tell me."

"Thank you, Mr. White," Clark said, leaning against the
Chief's plaid armchair.

"I'll be back when they're ready."

"Great."

"Oh? Lois?" Perry asked, almost as an afterthought. "How's
Clark doing?"

Lois smiled. "He's doing really well, Chief. He's itching to
get back."

"Well, you tell him to take his time. A man doesn't go through
something like that and bounce right back into the swing of
things. He's not Superman. Ah, no offense, Superman."

Clark chuckled. "None taken." Inwardly though, he had to once
again ponder how much Perry actually knew or suspected about his
dual identities.

"I'll tell him," Lois said, "but you know Clark. I'm
surprised I've gotten him to stay put at home for as long as I
have already."

Perry chuckled and shook his head. "Reminds me of someone else I
know," he said with a wink.

Then he was gone, back into the media circus that had overtaken
the bullpen, in anticipation of Superman's impending statement
to the world. Clark sat carefully, not wanting to crease his
cape. It was killing him inside to stay home while Lois went to
work each day. But it had only been three weeks since his heart
transplant. No normal man would be back to full speed that
quickly. He couldn't be seen at work so shortly after his brush
with death. But he longed for the sometimes mundane routine of
normal life. He wanted to get up in the morning, put on his work
suit, chase leads, and write stories.

As it was, he'd only just been cleared by Dr. Klein to resume
his super activities. That, at least, had been a blessing. Being
stuck in the hospital, then at home, with nothing but the
television for company had been depressing. He'd felt worse than
useless. Lois had offered to stay home with him, but after the
first week, he'd told her to go back to work. After all, soon
she would need to take her maternity leave, and he wanted her to
have as much time as possible to use when their son was born. And
his parents had needed to return to the farm. Clark knew how
expensive it was to keep the extra hired hands on, so he had told
them to go, with promises to visit them as soon as he was able
to. Even the Lanes had needed to resume their own, normal lives,
though Lucy had stayed on for a few days to help out, after Sam
and Ellen had gone.

But getting the green light from Dr. Klein had given him
something that he could do. If he couldn't be Clark in public,
he could at least be Superman. At first, he had been a little
afraid of making any rescues. It had taken more than a week for
his powers to return, once he'd woken up after his surgery. It
had been a particularly stormy week, and the cloud coverage
hadn't helped when the rain *had* actually let up. When the sun
had finally peeked out from behind the clouds, it had taken time
for Clark's body to absorb enough of the life giving and
nourishing light for it to begin to repair itself. Slowly, one by
one, his powers had returned to him.

Once he was fully back to normal, he'd kept his super activities
to a bare minimum, testing himself to make sure that he felt
completely comfortable. He'd kept picturing himself doubling
over while performing a rescue while his new heart blew right out
of his chest. But, slowly, his fears had left him. His leisurely
flights took on speed. He revisited the void between the Earth
and space to soak up as much sunlight as possible, reveling in
the fact that he was alive and no longer earthbound. Finally,
he'd trusted himself enough to start making rescues.

Of course, as soon as the first rescue was made -- a child who'd
fallen down a well on her family's farm -- the rumor mill had
begun. There was no doubt that Superman had returned. The media
had captured him on film as he'd lowered himself into the
constricting well and reemerged with the wet, shaking, hungry,
and terrified three year old girl. But where had Superman been?
Why had he been gone so long? Was he *really* back? Or would he
play with the planet's emotions and disappear once again? And
so, he'd decided that he would need to make a statement, to
address all of those questions.

"Hey," Clark said after a couple of minutes of silence lapsed.
"I've been doing some thinking."

"What about?"

Clark gave her a small smile. "Our baby."

"Oh, really?" she said, feigning surprise, her interest clearly
up.

"Yeah. I know we've settled on Christopher for a first name.
But I was thinking about the middle name." Lois nodded, urging
him on. "You know how Ching's death has affected me."

Again, she nodded. "I don't know if I've ever seen you quite
that upset before."

Clark nodded in turn. "I want to honor him in some way. I was
thinking...maybe we could use David as our boy's middle name."

"David?" Lois asked.

"Remember when we first met Ching? He was using the cover..."

"Dave Miller," Lois said, filling in Clark's words before he
could say them, smiling as she did so.

"Yeah. I've already spoken to Zara about it. I wanted to make
sure she would be okay with it, if you said yes. She's taken
Ching's death really hard."

"I know. I wish there was more we could do for her. I think
David is the perfect middle name for our son. Christopher David
Kent." She patted her stomach as she said the name and Clark
could tell by the twinkle in her eye that she loved the name. Not
only loved it, but knew already, somehow, that the name fit the
tiny human it now belonged to.

Clark was thrilled that Lois loved the name as much as he did. It
felt so natural, so right, to be honoring Ching in the way that
they were. The man had been a brother to Clark, not by blood, but
of the spirit. He had felt privileged to have forged a friendship
and understanding with the Kryptonian lieutenant during the brief
time they had found themselves on the same side of the war Lord
Nor had waged on Earth. When Clark had learned of Ching's death,
it had been like a knife to his newly transplanted heart.

For a long time, and even now, as he sat waiting to address the
world, he'd felt so conflicted about having Ching's heart
beating within his chest. Of course, he was ecstatic to be alive.
He'd been given an unexpected second chance. He would be there
to witness his son's birth, his first steps, his first words. He
would be there to dole out advice on everything from any powers
the boy might inherit to asking girls out on dates. He would be
around to dance with Lois at Christopher's wedding. But the
price for that new life had been steep. Ching was dead. He would
never see Kala's first steps or hear her little voice call him
"dada." He would never see her go off to school, or find the
person that she loved. He would never see his baby girl grow into
the beautiful and confident woman Clark was sure she would
become.

It felt, to Clark, like Ching's life had been traded for his
own.

It was, of course, a ridiculous thought. Rationally, he knew the
depths of how untrue that thought was. Ching hadn't been killed
in order to save Clark. It had all been a matter of chance, a
cosmic coincidence that had just so happened when Clark's need
for a heart was at its most desperate. Still, the scar on his
chest -- faded now into a pale, barely there white line --
constantly reminded him of what, exactly, the price of his life
had been.

"Superman, we're ready for you out here," Perry said, knocking
and opening the door in the same moment.

"Fantastic," Clark replied, standing. "Thank you."

Perry nodded and left just as quickly as he'd come in. When they
were alone again, Lois gave Clark a chaste kiss on his lips,
after checking for the hundredth time that the blinds to the
office were tightly shut.

"Good luck," she whispered.

"I'll meet you at home," he promised.

*With Swiss chocolate and French pastries,* he silently added.
Now that he was once more confident in his ability to use his
powers without endangering his life, he looked forward to making
trips again to retrieve the treats Lois enjoyed. *And maybe some
of that Chinese food you're so crazy for.*

"I can't wait," Lois said with a smile that spoke volumes to
him. He'd not only been cleared to use his super powers, he'd
been cleared to resume *all* of his normal activities.

Clark nodded, then adopted the neutral, unreadable mask of
Superman. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, then let
it go as he opened the Chief's door and stepped out into the
bullpen. How he missed the place! The smell of the coffeemaker
across the room in the break area. The sweet sugary glaze of the
donuts in the box next to the coffeemaker. The ticking of the
clocks on the wall, showing the time zones across the globe,
inaudible to anyone else's ears. The *chug, chug, chug* as the
fax machine spat out a stream of papers. The sea of clutter on
his friends' and coworkers' desks, now abandoned as everyone
awaited his statement.

With confident strides, he walked down the aisle that had been
kept clear for him. He nodded in a friendly enough manner at
those he knew well. Jimmy was, of course, right in front, in the
place Clark was sure the photographer had picked especially for
the angles it would afford him while his camera snapped away.
Jimmy gave him a thumbs up when he caught his eye. Clark allowed
himself to aim a smile at his friend, though he kept it small and
professional looking.

He reached the microphone and a hush fell over the crowd, without
the need to ask. He took a moment to look out over everyone
before beginning.

"Thank you all for coming today," he began. "I know there have
been a lot of questions and rumors lately, about where I've been
and why I seemed to have vanished. I want to set the record
straight. I have always striven to be as open and honest with the
people of this planet as I possibly can. My recent disappearance
was an unfortunate situation that I could not avoid. Things
happened too quickly and beyond my control, so I was unable to
issue a statement beforehand. But, I assure you, that situation
has been handled and can no longer prevent me from my mission to
protect the people of Earth. There have been rumors speculating
that I am leaving this planet. I would like to take this
opportunity to strike that rumor down. I have no intention of
ever leaving. Earth is my home. There is nothing that can take me
away from here." He paused, taking a breath. "I will take any
questions."

"Superman!"

Clark had to fight not to grimace. It was Nelson Gingham, from
the Dirt Digger.

"Yes?" he answered politely.

"You talk about this mysterious 'situation.' I think I can
speak for us all when I say that that's not really enough
information."

"Mr. Gingham, isn't it?"

"Ah, I see you know who I am."

Clark bit his tongue against the man's arrogant, self-important
attitude.

"I'm familiar with all of Metropolis' reporters," he said
instead. "Mr. Gingham, while I appreciate the curiosity of the
public, the situation I needed to tend to was not my own. Out of
respect for those involved, I can only say that it was a matter
of life and death, and that I am happy to say that life won
out."

"Oh, come on!" the man grumbled.

"I apologize, but that really is all that I am at liberty to
say. It was an intensely personal event," Clark said, as
politely as he could, while making it clear, through the tone of
his voice that the discussion over the specifics of the situation
was now at a close. "Are there any other questions at this
time?" he asked, nailing home the point that he would be giving
no deeper information on the details of the event.

"Some people have speculated that there was a need for you to
return to New Krypton. Is there any truth to that?" Linda Peters
asked.

"I can assure you that I never left this planet," Clark said.
"Nor have I ever stepped foot on New Krypton's soil."

"Superman! It's Gary Katz, LNN. You are friends with Clark
Kent, are you not?"

Clark nodded. "I am."

"You know then, that he recently was in the hospital, awaiting a
heart transplant."

"I was aware of it," Clark said, cautiously.

"It seems that he got a transplant pretty fast. Rumor has it
that you used your influence to...shall we say...speed up the
process. A sudden bump to the top of the list, perhaps. How do
you respond?"

"By reminding everyone that rumors are usually baseless
speculation. And that is *exactly* what that rumor is. I would
never do anything to put one person's needs above another's,
friend or not, nor could I, in this particular instance, have
done anything to change Clark's spot on the recipient list.
Clark was just very lucky that a match could be found in time to
save his life, that's all. And, while I'm glad and relieved
that one was found for him, I had nothing to do with it."

As expected, there were several more questions. Most centered
around his disappearance and reemergence. A few asked about
projects that the Superman Foundation was working on, or the
recent resurgence of what most speculated was Intergang
activities. In all, the whole thing lasted less time than Clark
had been dreading it would. It was a relief when he finally ended
the press conference, thanked everyone for coming, then flew out
the large window above the bullpen.

As he flew off, he had only one thought. It was good to be back.

***

"I'm going to eat you all up!" Clark declared in a dramatic,
deeper than normal voice, while his nine month old son squealed
with delight, wiggling on his back, tongue out and a smile from
ear to ear.

The boy rolled out of the way as Clark hovered over him, ready to
kiss the baby's belly. Clark caught him and kissed him anyway,
eliciting a steady stream of squeals, shrieks, and laughs. He
continued for several long moments, until Christopher slapped
playfully at the top of his head. Clark pulled back, looking down
on the perfect little miracle he and Lois had created, stunned,
as always, to know that his heart's greatest desire had been
fulfilled -- to not only marry the woman of his dreams, but to
raise a family with her as well.

Clark touched a hand to his chest, over his heart, over the place
where he'd been cut open just over a year before. The scar had
long since faded and had nearly vanished as his body had healed
itself. But he didn't need to see what was left of the scar in
order to be reminded of what had occurred -- his brush with death
and the miracle that had brought him back to the world of the
living. Nothing could ever make him forget how extremely lucky he
was to be alive and able to watch his son grow up.

As always, the thought sent a wave of thankfulness through him,
while simultaneously sending a stab of remorse through him. Ching
hadn't been so lucky. *Kala* hadn't been so lucky. Christopher
knew his father, gleefully pointing and crying out "dada!"
whenever he saw him. Kala, on the other hand, would never know
her father through anything more than the stories Zara would and
did tell her.

"Eeee!" Kala demanded, hitting Clark's back with her open
palm.

Clark chuckled. "Okay, okay!"

He grabbed the little girl and held her up over his head, as if
she was flying. Someday, she *would *be, he knew. And she would
take to it well. He didn't doubt that. She loved it when her
Uncle Clark played the flying game with her. Then he swooped her
down and laid her on her back, next to Christopher, and proceeded
to rain kisses down on her belly, along with the occasional
"bubble" blown onto her, which made her shriek with laughter.

Clark began to switch back and forth between the two kids, making
first one laugh, then the other. He was having such a great time
that he didn't even notice when Lois walked in through the front
door, set her purse down, and stepped into the living room.

"Careful, I might get jealous," she quipped as Clark rolled
onto his back, making Kala fly again.

"Oh, hi, honey," Clark said, craning his neck back to look at
her upside down, realizing for the first time that she was there.
"Don't worry, you're the only woman I'll ever *want* to fly
with."

Lois laughed. "I'd better be. Are you having a good time?"

"The best."

"Where's Zara?"

Clark rolled again, setting Kala down so that he could do the
same thing to Christopher. "She had to run some errands. I told
her that I was more than happy to watch the baby while she went
out."

"That was nice of you," Lois replied with a smile. She knelt
down on the carpet beside Clark and kissed him, then picked up
Christopher.

"Aaaaamaaaa!" he cried out joyfully, slapping at her face with
his palm.

Clark shrugged as he sat up. "I like watching the kids."

"I know. I think it's adorable."

He gave her his best smile. "Thanks. So, how did the press
conference go?"

Lois made a face, indicating how boring she'd found it. "Same
old same old from the mayor's office. 'We're looking into the
allegations but have no information at this time.' Ugh!"

"Well, you didn't *really* think they would come out and say
'Yeah, you know what? The mayor *did* make advances toward his
female interns,' did you?" he asked sweetly.

"No," Lois huffed, "but for *once* it would be nice if people
could own up to their mistakes."

"I agree. Which is why I'm going to own up to the wet spot on
the carpet over there." He pointed. "The kids and I were
playing and our son thought the carpet needed a little
redecorating. I cleaned it pretty well though. It doesn't appear
to have stained."

Lois laughed. "Honestly, that's probably the best news I've
heard all day."

"Actually," Clark said, stopping Kala from attempting to eat
the remote control for the television, "I have some great news
for you."

Lois' whole body seemed to perk up. "Yeah?"

"Dr. Klein called with my test results from yesterday."

"When?"

"About an hour ago."

"And?" she prodded. "Don't leave me in suspense! What'd he
say?"

"Well, he started off by congratulating me, again, for my one
year milestone." He was deliberately drawing things out,
enjoying the way Lois squirmed. But he couldn't prolong it too
long. He was almost bursting with the news. "Anyway, we went
over all of the test results. Everything looks great. He sees no
signs of this heart breaking down or otherwise not cooperating
with my body. And what's more, my super abilities haven't
caused any adverse side effects on it."

"Clark! That's great!"

He luxuriated in the warmth of her smile as she attempted to hug
him. But two squirming children got in the way, leaving them able
to only share a chaste kiss, given with stretched necks over the
heads of the babies. True, it wasn't exactly *new* news. Ever
since the transplant, Dr. Klein had run the same battery of tests
on Clark once a month, wanting to be extra cautious. There really
was no precedent for how Kryptonians, particularly those using
super powers on a daily basis, recovered after a heart
transplant.

"There's more," Clark said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh?" He could see her curiosity was piqued even higher.

"Since everything has looked great for the whole year, he's
lightening up on the tests. I don't need to go back for another
three months, then if all looks well, every six months. But he's
extremely confident that, barring another run in with
Deathstroke, I'll be healthy for a long, long time."

"Oh, Clark!" Lois cried, happy tears brimming in her eyes.
"That's fantastic! I'm so proud of you."

He shook his head. "Don't be proud of *me*, Lois. Zara's the
one who saved my life. I'm just lucky, that's all."

"Either way, I'm glad for you. I hated the idea that once a
month, you had to deliberately expose yourself to Kryptonite so
he could get a blood sample. Even if it was only for a minute or
two."

"I know. I didn't like it either. But if that's part of the
price I need to pay to be alive for you and our son, I'll gladly
do so."

Lois nodded. "I know. I just worry about you. Always have.
Always will."

"In a weird way, I love that you do. Before I met you, no one,
other than my parents, ever cared enough to worry about me. When
I realized that you did," he shook his head, "there was this
incredible feeling, to know I mattered enough to warrant
concern."

He would have said more, but a knock sounded on the door. Clark
slipped his glasses down, x-rayed, then put them back on his face
properly. He set down Kala from his lap and went to answer it.

"Zara," he explained to Lois over his shoulder. Then, throwing
the door open, "Hey, Zara!"

"Hi, Clark. How was Kala?"

"Only the most well behaved little girl on the planet," he said
truthfully. "She ate a jar and a half of food too, plus a few of
my French fries. She's got quite a fantastic appetite."

The baby was hardly any trouble at all, though he did wonder what
it would be like once she started to develop her powers. One
thing was certain, it would be interesting, especially if
Christopher developed any powers of his own, being half
Kryptonian.

"Good to hear," Zara said as she crossed the room and picked up
the infant who was crawling toward her, tiny mouth open wide in a
smile. "Hi, baby! I heard you were a good girl for Uncle
Clark."

Kala shrieked and clapped in response.

"Thanks for taking her. It's always so much easier to run
errands without a nap-deprived child."

"I know the feeling," Lois said. "Did you want to stay for
dinner?"

"Oh, no, thanks. I grabbed a slice of pizza before heading here.
I appreciate the offer though."

"Maybe some other night then," Lois offered.

"I'd like that. Come on, Kala, we need to get home and get you
into the bath before bed." Zara shifted the baby on her hip and
Clark handed her the diaper bag, which she shouldered without any
effort.

"Goodnight, Kala," Clark said in a sing-song voice. He kissed
her on the head. "Love you, kiddo. Goodnight, Zara." He gave
the woman a peck on the cheek.

"Night, Clark. Night, Lois."

"Night, Zara. Why don't you come on over tomorrow night? We'll
let the kids play after work," Lois said as she gave the woman a
hug and cheek-to-cheek kiss.

"Sounds, great. What do you think, Kala?"

"Ayayababapfffft!" the baby agreed, her babble turning into a
raspberry at the end.

After Zara left, Clark helped Lois to straighten up the living
room. Then it was time for Christopher's bath. Clark wound up
soaked from head to toe as the boy splashed around in the plastic
baby tub with a squeaky green alligator. He said his goodnights
to the baby while Lois settled him into his crib after one more
bottle. Clark was just pulling on a clean, dry t-shirt when Lois
joined him in their bedroom.

"Zara's done really well, adjusting to living here full time,"
Lois observed. She went into the attached master bathroom and
started taking her makeup off. "I mean, I know she lived here
for a short time before she asked you to be New Krypton's
savior, but she always knew that, one way or another, she was
going back to her home planet."

"New Krypton wasn't much of a home, the way I understand it,"
Clark said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"True," she conceded. "I'm glad we were able to help her get
set up here. You know, it's funny. I was so jealous of her when
I first met her. After all, she was married to the love of my
life. But now..." Clark could picture her shrugging at herself
in the mirror.

"I know," Clark replied, taking his glasses off and setting
them on the nightstand. It was true that he didn't need them
when at home, but he wanted Christopher to only associate the man
wearing glasses with "dada." He rubbed his eyes for a moment.
"She seems happy enough now, but the sadness is still there too.
Sometimes, I wonder if she looks at me and wonders why I'm alive
and Ching isn't. Sometimes, the thought crosses *my own* mind
when I look in the mirror."

"Oh, Clark," Lois said, emerging from the bathroom, now in a
soft pair of cotton pajamas with flamingos dancing all over the
material. She came around the bed and held him close, squeezing
him tightly. "You need to stop thinking like that."

"I've tried," he admitted with a heavy sigh. "I just...can't
help it sometimes. I am *so* thankful to be alive, and to be able
to spend my second chance at life with you and Christopher,
don't get me wrong. I just wish something could have been done
to save Ching too."

"I know you do," Lois said, kissing his cheek tenderly. "And I
love you even more for it. It just proves to me, again, how truly
gentle a soul you really are. And how lucky I am to have you for
my husband."

"I think *I'm* the lucky one," he countered with a light kiss
to her lips, allowing her to achieve her goal of distracting him.
"I have you. I have our family."

"Speaking of," Lois said coyly, as she moved away to rest
against the pillows on her side of the bed. She propped herself
up on one elbow, facing him. "Christopher seems to love his play
dates with Kala."

Clark followed Lois' lead, facing her on the bed. "He does,"
he agreed. "I'm glad he's got a playmate. Especially as they
grow older. It'll be good for him to have someone his own age
who will be like him. Assuming he inherits any super abilities,
that is. And if not, at least they share a similar heritage."

"Well, there's always the possibility of siblings," Lois
suggested.

"Maybe," Clark said, unconvinced.

He still considered Christopher's conception and birth to be a
miracle that was highly unlikely to be repeated. Despite the easy
and uneventful pregnancy Lois had enjoyed, Dr. Klein still
maintained his theory that human and Kryptonian genes would
rarely, if ever, be able to create a new life. Of course, Clark
*hoped* for more children in the future, but he wasn't naive
enough to expect that it would be easy, or even possible.

"You *do* want more children, right?" Lois asked.

"Of course I do. You know that. I just don't know if it's
possible."

"Well," Lois said, drawing the word out as she dragged her
finger over Clark's forearm, "I'm pretty confident that we
can."

"Oh yeah?" Clark asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is that your way
of saying that you want to try for another?"

"No," Lois said, again dragging the word out, but this time,
not as long. "It's my way of saying that we already are."

That took a moment to sink in. When it did, Clark blinked. His
mouth opened and moved, but no sound came forth. He shook his
head slightly and tried again.

"You're pregnant?" he sputtered in disbelief.

Lois nodded. "We are."

"Really?"

"According to the test I took this morning while you were
sleeping, yeah, we really are having another baby."

"Test? I didn't..."

He stopped in mid sentence. Of course he hadn't seen a test. It
was garbage day. Lois would have taken the trash out before
heading to the press conference, in an effort to hide the news so
she could tell him herself.

"You're incredible," he said instead, wonderment in his
voice.

He reached over to her and gathered her into his arms. His lips
met hers in a passionate dance, as though their shared kiss was
life itself. His heart beat wildly in his chest, as it always did
when Lois was around, the result of the fierce intensity of his
love for her. It was as if his entire body was too small to
contain all of the love he had for Lois, the woman of his dreams,
the mother of his children, the answer to all the prayers he'd
ever prayed as a young man looking for his place in the world.

"I love you," he whispered to her as they parted for a breath.

"And I love you," she responded, before her lips crashed into
his again, her hands already urgently tugging at his clothing.

Later, as they lay still cuddling with one another in bed,
catching their breath from their lovemaking, Clark kissed Lois on
the head. She had her eyes closed and seemed completely at peace
as he held her. Clark listened to the steady beating of her heart
and the gentle, even sounds of her breathing. Peace flooded his
own body, the kind that only Lois' love could bring him.

"Clark?"

"Hmm?"

"I guess it's safe to assume that you're happy about the new
baby?" she teased him.

Clark chuckled. "*Beyond* happy, Lois. For a long time, I
wasn't sure I'd ever find love. How could I? I was too
different. Too afraid to open up to anyone. Then, I found you.
You fixed all the broken pieces in my life, made me feel safe,
took away the fears that I had. Now, you've given me the home
I'd always hoped for, but never dared to believe I could have.
You've given me a *family*, Lois. You always have, ever since we
met. Having children with you is the greatest miracle of my life.
Even getting a new heart," he said as he shook his head,
"can't compare to the miracles of Christopher and this new
little baby."

"I'm just so happy that you *did* get your heart," Lois said,
rolling over so that she could hug him and nuzzle into his side
as they talked. "And I'm thrilled that I'm able to give you
the family you've always wanted. Because, the truth is, you've
given *me* a family and a home ever since we first met. That's
part of why I was so scared to let you into my life and heart.
Family had always been such a disappointment before. It was too
painful to let anyone in when I was certain it was going to end
in disappointment. I'm glad you forced your way behind my walls
and didn't give up when I tried so hard to make you leave me
alone."

"It was never an option for me. I fell in love with you the
instant I saw you."

"It took me a little longer," she said, tracing random patterns
on his chest with her finger, only to subconsciously drag her
finger along the nearly invisible line of his transplant scar.
"You just seemed too unreal, for a while, for me to be able to
admit that you really were the perfect guy I'd been waiting
for."

Clark smiled as Lois' finger kept on tracing his scar. "There
isn't a day that goes by when I'm not thankful for my second
chance at life, for the ability to see our son, and now this new
little one, grow. Not a day goes by when I don't mourn Ching's
death."

"I know," Lois said with a slight nod of her head. "I can
always tell when that thought crosses your mind. You get quiet
and sort of...contemplative."

"Sorry," Clark apologized. He'd never meant to make Lois feel
uncomfortable.

"Don't be. It's part of who you are. Your kindness,
compassion, and respect for others is part of why I love you. If
you had no feelings at all toward Ching or the transplant, you
wouldn't be the Clark that I know and love."

Clark smiled tenderly at her. "You're amazing, you know
that?"

"I know," Lois said with mock arrogance, smiling and giving him
a wink.

"No, really. You...keep me going. And you can always lift even
the bleakest of my moods, bringing light into those dark moments
-- be it after a rescue gone wrong, or those moments where I feel
so...unworthy...of this second chance. I love you for that."

"Well, that's funny," Lois said playfully. "It just so
happens that you do the same for me."

Clark chuckled. "So...when do we get to meet this baby?" He
pressed his hand to her midsection, knowing it was too early to
feel anything. But he'd always felt like he'd missed out on
Lois' pregnancy with Christopher, though the reality was that he
really hadn't missed anything more important than one or two
monitoring ultrasounds.

"Well, if my math is correct, and I know that it is," Lois
said, grinning from ear to ear, "about eight and a half more
months."

"That long, huh?" Clark asked, feigning disappointment,
complete with a pout.

"Gives us plenty of time to get the nursery ready," Lois said,
shrugging. "Maybe we can paint this one together."

Clark blushed. "I'll try to restrain myself."

"It's a good thing we have four bedrooms," Lois commented.

"Yeah," Clark agreed. "Maybe one day, we'll have kids living
in each of them."

Lois laughed. "Maybe!" Then, after a moment, "Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"For...everything. For our life together. Our children. For..."
Her voice caught in her throat and she had to start again. "For
fighting so hard, last year. For hanging on, even while machines
were keeping you alive. I don't know how much you heard while
you were...you know. But every day, I asked you to keep fighting
and to come back to me. And you did."

"I don't remember anything between the time I had that last
heart attack and when I awoke after my transplant. I knew,
somehow, that time had passed. I don't mean an hour or a day. I
knew it was longer than that, though I had no idea how long it
had truly been. And I had this feeling...like..." He paused for
a moment, grasping for words. "Like some...connection between us
had kept me from slipping away. Something beyond our love and
commitment to each other. I didn't have a name for the feeling
back then. I still don't. It was almost like you'd willed me to
live. I can't explain it any better than that."

"Whatever it was, I'm so grateful that it kept you with me.
And, of course, for Zara's selflessness in giving up her
husband's heart."

"Mmm," Clark hummed in agreement.

He kissed Lois, hoping to distract her from their conversation.
He didn't want to dwell on the past, or what might have been. He
wanted to enjoy the moment, holding his wife, wondering about his
unborn child, imagining how much their life would be enriched by
the addition of a new son or daughter -- a little brother or
sister for Christopher to love and play with. Still, the seeds of
thought had been planted, and his mind *did* wander toward his
heart.

He knew he was lucky. Every day, he thought about his second
chance and of Ching. It was funny, in a way, he'd often thought
to himself. When he'd first met Zara and Ching, they'd both
seemed so...distant and cold. It was clear that they cared a
great deal for the people of New Krypton, but love and passion
seemed beyond their capability. Then, as he'd gotten to know
them both, as he'd worked and fought alongside them in an effort
to bring about peace, he'd been graced with the opportunity to
see them both for who they truly were -- for the very real and
powerful love they had, not only for their people, but for one
another. Though their society and customs had prevented them from
outwardly showing their passions, Clark had come to grasp just
how intense that passion truly was.

Yes, Ching, the stoic and hardened Kryptonian lieutenant, had
loved -- deeply and fiercely. Clark had seen it in the man's
eyes, had heard it in the man's voice whenever Zara was near or
the topic of discussion. And now, strange as it was, Ching's
heart beat within the confines of Clark's chest. And it ached
with joy and love every time he looked at Lois.

THE END