Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Superman’s world was fading in a haze of pain. He coughed weakly; his lungs were on fire. Desperately he fought to suck in another breath. The kryptonite spear burned white-hot against his chest. 

The man threatening to jab it into his heart blurred before Superman's eyes. He gritted his teeth, trying to maintain eye-contact with Irons who was towering above him, jaw set in grim determination, eyes wide as he readied himself for the kill. 

Everything hurt, every breath he took felt as if he were inhaling razor blades, cutting him raw from within. It would be so much easier to just give in to the pull of darkness.

But he had to stay awake for Lois' sake, for the sake of their boys. 

Her sweet voice came from far away.

“Please, I see the anger in your eyes. It’s covering something I can relate to.” The pain in her voice however reached him through the fog in his brain, tore right through him really, worse even than the kryptonite. “The torture that comes from wondering if you failed, if there was something you could’ve done to save them, but there wasn’t.” 

Clark's heart went out to her. He’d known something had been eating away at her these past few days. The way she’d lost it when he’d saved Jonathan just in time. 

She’d flat out refused his attempts to help. 

And now she was here, fighting for his life. She shouldn't be forced to see him like this. The least he could do was stay strong for her now. 

He couldn’t fail her. 

If only it wouldn't hurt so much to breathe. Dark spots appeared at the edges of his vision. 

Lois’ voice softened. “If there had been, you would’ve found it. They’re gone, and it’s not your fault, but it’s not his fault, either.”

Despite her words Irons increased the pressure of the spear against Superman’s chest, sending another wave of agony through him. Clark held onto it, refusing to pass out.  

“You don’t know what’s coming,” Irons said bitterly.

“John, our worlds are different. Our Superman is good.” There was a hint of panic in her voice now. “He would never turn on us, ever.” 

Another cough racked Superman's body, his lungs spasming and leaving him breathless. Cold sweat covered his forehead. The kryptonite spear pressed even harder into his skin, burning a hole into his chest. Clark would have cried out if he still could. 

But all he managed was a low moan. 

Irons spoke again, but Clark had trouble making out the words. “How …you know …?”  

“I know…kill him… innocent man…”

He couldn't breathe. The gas clogging his lungs set him ablaze with agony. Another cough felt like it would split him in two. 

Darkness pulled him under. 

Then, finally, the pressure against his chest lessened.

For a brief moment Lois' face swam into focus, the terror in her gaze evident, her body trembling. 

Someone blocked his view and slipped a mask on his face. He felt hands on him, rolling him to the side and slapping his back. He was helpless to do anything but ride out the coughs shaking him. Between coughs he tried to gulp in air, wheezing with the effort. 

Everything around him just faded to a blurry haze. 

***

Clark had no idea how much time passed until finally breathing became easier. He knew he’d been drifting in and out of consciousness for a while there, a part of him wishing that Lois could have been by his side to give him something to hold onto. But he was also glad that she hadn't been forced to witness his struggle for breath, his desperate attempts to cough up that thick green mucus clogging his lungs. 

All he really wanted now was to get back to her. The blinding pain had reduced to a dull ache, reminding him of his latest ordeal with every minute motion. He struggled to sit up. 

“Easy there, Superman.” A doctor put a hand on his shoulder to get him to lie back down. 

“I’m fine.” His raspy voice betrayed his exhaustion. 

But he brushed the hand on his chest aside and sat up once more, swaying a little at the sudden change of position. He hated the lethargy that came with prolonged exposure to the deadly crystal. 

“You really should get some more rest,” the doctor tried again. “The kryptonite gas did quite a number on you.” 

“Yeah, no kidding.” 

It took a few clumsy attempts until he managed to pull the oxygen mask from his face. With a grunt he swung his legs off the bed. 

There was no way he was going to stay in this place any longer than he absolutely had to. Now that his brain was working again, no longer overwhelmed from the pain coursing through his body, he felt the anger rise in his chest. All these weapons they had cooked up down there, enough to kill him a hundred times over. 

He'd really thought that, after twenty years of trying to prove his worth, he'd earned Sam’s trust. 

But apparently, his word would never count for anything. After all this time he was still on probation, still basically considered an enemy, only ever tolerated. 

He gritted his teeth and stood. Black spots danced before his eyes, but he locked his pudding legs underneath himself and moved with as much grace as he could muster. 

He made it no farther than a few steps before his legs threatened to give out on him. Superman headed for the next chair and sank down with a frustrated sigh. After everything that had happened, he would have liked to maintain at least some of his dignity. 

The doctor immediately started toward him. “See? I told you that you still need to rest!” 

One warning glance stopped him, though. 

“Thank you for helping me, but I'm fine,” Superman said between clenched teeth. 

All he wanted was to get out of this place and lick his wounds in private. 

A door opened on the other side of the room and Sam entered, his gaze first darting to the empty bed until he found Superman sitting on the chair. He came closer, his brows furrowed in scrutiny as he gave Superman a thorough once-over. 

“He wouldn't stay in bed,” the doctor explained helplessly. “I-”

Sam silenced him with a brief nod, before he focused his attention back on Superman. “Sounds like you’re on the mend.”

Superman stared down and clenched his hands into tight fists.

 “Yeah. Breathing is better.” He hated how weak he still sounded. “That was some nasty stuff.”

Sam looked at him, and for a moment Superman thought he saw remorse in his eyes. But the General quickly turned, studying the medical equipment in the other corner of the room as if it was telling him something that Clark would have to remain oblivious of. For a moment, Sam studied an x-ray which probably showed Superman’s lungs and which he didn't remember getting. 

Clark wasn’t sure whether the chill that went down his spine was an aftereffect of kryptonite exposure or if it came from being studied. 

When the General spoke again he sounded as if he was holding a lecture. “The gas was an experimental, synthetic kryptonite designed to invade your respiratory system, weaken you from the inside, leave you vulnerable to more traditional tactics.”

He paused, looked at Clark again and only then seemed to realize that he wasn’t talking to his fellow soldiers, but to the subject of his studies who’d just painfully experienced the power of Sam’s new weapon. 

The general cleared his throat. “You should know it was my sincere intention none of this would ever be deployed.”

Clark bit back a snort. Like Sam certainly hadn't meant for him to get shot by these Kryptonite bullets, he'd armed his soldiers with. Kryptonite gas, a Kryptonite spear, it all probably was only the tip of the iceberg, an arsenal huge enough to stop an entire Kryptonian invasion. 

But he was only one man. 

A man Sam should know better than that. 

Clark's jaw worked. “Sam, I want to save you the trouble of lying to my face.”

Sam pursed his lips. “I hope for the best, but it’s my job to prepare for the worst, even when it comes to you.” He hung his head. “I am sorry you had to find out like this.”

Superman held his gaze. “Trust goes both ways.”

Sam paled. Perhaps he remembered what had happened at the D.O.D. a long time ago. How Superman had been the one to give him the first piece of Kryptonite. But apparently, no matter what he did, he would never reach a position where they trusted each other. 

And before he said anything else Sam’s face hardened back into the mask of the general who did whatever had to be done for the sake of the people he protected. 

“I know,” he said. “And I know I have some work to do to regain yours.”

For a moment both fell silent.Sam probably prepared another speech on how his kryptonite arsenal was just a necessary evil and Clark trying to get a handle on the rage coursing through him. 

He couldn't believe the military had developed all these weapons behind his back. Sam had told him so often what an asset he was, using the responsibility Superman felt toward people to pressure him into doing whatever he wanted. And all this time he kept lying to his face, all the while preparing weapons to keep him in check or kill him if necessary. 

But much as he wanted to just leave, this wasn't the moment to dwell on his hurt feelings. 

Superman swallowed down his anger and deliberately uncurled his hands while taking deep steadying breaths. 

He looked at Sam. “About Rosetti…”

The general sighed, seeming relieved about the change of topic. “He was third-generation military. Loved his job, his country, never showed a hint of superhuman ability.”

“And what if it wasn’t him?” Superman asked softly. “When Derek Powell killed himself, he implied that he was someone else, said that I wasn’t alone anymore.”

Sam furrowed his brows. “Meaning what, exactly?”

Superman shrugged. “I don’t know. Lois has a theory.” His stomach clenched uncomfortably with what he was about to divulge. “She thinks that Morgan Edge has found a way to transfer alien sentience into human hosts.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Kryptonians? Are you telling me John Irons might be right?”

Superman let out a breath and nodded. “It’s very possible that Morgan Edge is building an army.”

Much as he hated to admit it, all things considered perhaps Sam hadn't been so wrong about developing that Kryptonite arsenal. Still, that didn't excuse he'd gone behind his back. But he didn't want to stay and analyze that sense of betrayal.

Superman stood. “If you don't mind, I'd like to leave now.”

Sam examined him, a hint of worry creeping into his expression after all. “Will you be all right?”

Superman pressed his lips into a thin line. "Are you asking me if I'm going to bounce right back? That may take a while.”

Guilt flashed across Sam's face. He averted his eyes and lowered his voice to a whisper. “If it's any consolation, she's waiting for you and she's not happy.”

“Actually, that’s no consolation at all,” Clark muttered. “She shouldn’t have been forced to see this.”

He’d worked so hard no to worry her, though that had become increasingly difficult with Iron’s recent attacks on his life. He’d mentioned them to her without going into detail on how close a call it had actually been, twice. 

But now there was no sugar-coating what the gas had done to him. 

Sam seemed to realize that as well. His shoulders sagged. “You’re right, she shouldn’t have.”

Chapter Text

Lois sat in the car waiting. Any casual observer would assume she was bored, staring ahead with her lips drawn into that slight frown, her eyes betraying exasperation. His tenacious wife was forced to exercise patience which had never been her strong suit. 

After twenty years of marriage he no longer needed his powers to register how tense she was. The occasional twitch in her body told him she was worried out of her mind, only barely keeping it together lest she storm back into the D.O.D. demanding to see him.  

He guessed that was the hardest part about being Superman’s wife – that she could only ever worry about him in secret. The fear in her gaze when she'd seen him gasping for breath still haunted him. 

He hated doing this to her. 

It certainly killed him every time she did something reckless. 

Whenever she pressed the E.L.T. and called his name, her voice laced with suppressed panic, he raced against the fear of losing her. So far he’d always managed to reach her before things had turned really bad. He’d never been forced to see her struggling for breath while someone was about to push a blade into her. And he really didn’t want to imagine himself in that position.

He reached for the door handle, when another bout of coughing hit him unexpectedly. His chest spasmed as his body fought to expel yet more of the deadly gas. His lung burned as the Kryptonite worked its way up. He leaned against the door heavily until the spasms subsided, leaving him breathless for a moment. 

Clark's sore body protested as he straightened. He was not quite sure if he was yet ready to face Lois. But he couldn't leave her waiting out there much longer either. 

As he opened the door she stiffened in her seat. Their eyes met and her behaviour changed completely. One moment she’d been sitting there, staring ahead listlessly when in fact every single muscle in her body had been curled tight, the next moment she was a flurry of motion. Before he’d even pressed the handle down, she was standing beside the car.

Once he’d stepped out of the building, she rushed toward him. “Clark!” 

She stopped short of running into him and threw her arms around his shoulders to pull him into a tight hug. He sagged into her embrace and for a moment they stood linked like this. Lois' face was buried in the crook of his neck as he breathed in her familiar scent. 

There was a slight hitch to her voice. “How are you?” 

She pulled back and let her eyes drift over his body, registering every minute detail down to the green hue that he knew was still tinting his skin. 

“Been better,” he admitted quietly. 

There was no use trying to cover that up. Already another coughing fit hit him, not as violent as the last one, but still leaving his throat raw. 

Lois watched him, her face creased with deep lines of worry. “I hate to let you go again, but you should fly to the Fortress to get Jor-El’s help.”  

Clark hung his head. “I can't.”

She sucked in a breath. “Your powers are gone?” 

He nodded. “And they won’t be back before tomorrow, I guess.” 

Lois gave a tight nod. Clark could tell she was trying hard not to panic. It was an unspoken agreement between them - he promised to survive and she wouldn’t worry too much about him.  

But today he'd clearly tested the limits of her endurance. 

He smiled for her. “Hey, babe, I will be fine. I'm feeling much better than I did before.” 

Lois mirrored his smile, though it soon crumbled. “I guess you’re still going to be in for a rough night.” 

Her jaw worked and Clark could practically see how her mind pulled up memories of earlier exposures to kryptonite. Most of the time he recovered quickly. But there were also those instances when he'd needed longer to fight off the effects of the deadly crystal. When burning out the Kryptonite had been the better way to get rid of it. 

There was still some of that stuff in his system. He felt it with every breath he took, with that sense of tightness in his chest and the weakness in his bones. Even just standing there, unfamiliar beads of sweat trailed down his back and soaked his clothes. He could breathe again, but this was far from over yet. 

He heaved a sigh. “Probably.”  

She laid an arm around his shoulders. “Let's get you home then.” 

He followed her, dragging his feet more with each step he took. He tried hard to appear like he was fine, like that brief walk wasn't taking every ounce of strength he still possessed. It was humiliating to be so weak, to be taken down by some green dust. The door of the car felt heavy as he opened it and with a soft grunt, he sank down onto the seat, leaned against the backrest and tried to catch his breath.

He coughed a couple of times, but the worst of it was over. 

Lois slipped into the driver's seat next to him and gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. 

“I can’t believe my father let you down there without telling you about the kryptonite.” 

Clark heaved another sigh. “He didn’t. I knew what I was getting myself into.” 

She gasped. “You knew? And you went anyway? What the hell were you thinking?”

As he looked at Lois he saw her deep frown, the haunted expression in her eyes that still hadn't left her, reflecting the terror she'd felt as she'd watched him struggle for breath. 

He averted his eyes in shame. “I’m sorry. Rosetti had powers. I had to stop him.” 

He felt like he should give her some better explanation for risking his life so arrogantly. But there was really no excuse. 

Quietly, he added. “I didn’t expect it would get that bad.”  

As if that would somehow make things better. 

Her jaw ticked as she let go of the steering wheel and balled her hands into tight fists. 

Eyes narrow, she spat, “Not enough that Jon almost got himself killed! His father, who should know better, runs straight into another death trap! Do you have any idea what it was like seeing you there gasping for breath? If I hadn't been there! If Irons had stabbed you –”

Her voice cracked as a strangled sob escaped her. A single tear slid down her cheek and her whole body went rigid with the effort it took to reign in her rampant emotions. It hurt to watch her falling apart like that, knowing he was responsible for her pain. 

It was as if someone stabbed him with Kryptonite all over again. 

Clark ached to wrap an arm around her shaking shoulders and pull her into a hug. But he wasn't sure she would welcome his comfort right now. Not when he was the reason she was hurting. 

“I'm sorry,” he muttered, not quite sure what else to say. “Thank you for saving my life.” 

That sounded so meaningless. Words couldn't express what he owed her. And not just for today. 

A faint smile tugged at her tight lips. “I'm just glad I got through to Irons in time. I'd say don't do this to me again, but I know you better than to ask that.”

Clark bit his lip. There was no arguing her point. 

She rolled her eyes and heaved a long sigh. “I know you were just trying to do the right thing. That's what I love about you.”

Clark raised a brow. “Does that mean I'm forgiven?”

She pursed her lips. “It was still a stupid move.”

He nodded. “Yeah, it was.”

Lois started the car and shifted the gear to reverse. She pulled the car out of the parking lot before she turned to Clark. 

“You should try to get some rest while we drive back. You still look like death warmed over.”

Chapter Text

Dusk was settling above the endless fields as they finally reached Smallville. 

Lois glanced at her sleeping husband and tried not to worry about his wheezing breaths. Sweat covered his forehead and the flush of fever had replaced the green hue to his skin. It had lessened after – halfway into their trip – he’d urged her to pull over. And just in time to get out of the car before he’d started to retch up the meager contents of his stomach, which had sounded rather painful. 

She gripped the steering wheel tighter and refrained from closing her eyes, wishing there was a way to get rid of these images in her mind. But they just kept haunting her – Clark in pain on the floor, gasping for breath as she’d pleaded for his life or pale and shaking as he threw up whatever remnants there were of the deadly green gas that had almost killed him. 

At least he was no longer coughing his lungs out.

She didn't have the heart to wake him now, though she knew she'd soon have to. With a sigh she pulled into the gravel driveway.    

A soft groan escaped his lips as the ride became more bumpy. It had been a while since she'd last seen Clark in such a sorry state. After they had become parents he'd mostly gone to the D.O.D for support, occasionally to his Mom’s when he hadn't been able to make it to his fortress. 

She slowed the car as the farmhouse came into view.

They hadn’t yet decided what they would tell the boys about this day’s events. Neither Jon or Jordan had ever seen their Dad like this. Clark had made it a point to stay away when he was injured. 

How were Jon and Jordan going to take the news that their indestructible father wasn't so indestructible after all? That their own grandpa had authorized weapons specifically designed to kill Superman, and given their Kryptonian heritage, potentially his grandchildren as well? And all of that using the very substance he’d ostensibly stashed away to protect their family.

What bitter irony!

Lois once more glanced at her sleeping husband. She hated to interrupt his much needed rest. But she couldn't very well leave him sleeping in the car even if he might not wake up sore. 

His shoulder was hot to the touch as she shook him lightly. “Wake up, babe, we're here.”

“Already?” He murmured sleepily. Then he sat up straight. “The boys!”

Her heart started to race. “Are they all right?”

“Yeah-” He wiped his face with a groan. “Just my super hearing kicking back in.”

Sure enough the door of the old farmhouse flew open and two teenagers almost stumbled over each other as they raced down the short flight of stairs. 

“Oh,” she muttered, feeling torn between relief at the improvement - and sympathy. 

She knew how much it cost him, every time he heard a cry for help and couldn't do anything about it. And right now she could sense his tension that she guessed wasn't just apprehension at having to face the twins. 

They skittered to a halt next to the truck when Lois turned off the engine. 

“Mom! Dad!”

A long sigh escaped Clark’s lips as he fumbled to release the seat belt.  

Anguish was clear on his face. “What do we tell them?”

Lois bit her lip. “Didn’t we decide to settle for the truth?”

He nodded, releasing another breath. “Though some truths are too painful to repeat.”

“They need to know,” she insisted. 

He hung his head. “Yeah.” 

With some difficulty Clark climbed out of the car, each stiff motion a testament to how sore he had to be feeling.  

“Dad!” Jon cried out. “What took you so long? We thought you'd fly back as soon as you were finished at the D.O.D.”

“Instead you’re with Mom,” Jordan added. 

His scrutinizing gaze took in his father's slumped shoulders, perhaps also the fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. Was he aware of his ragged breaths? Lois got out of the car wishing there was more she could do for Clark than lending quiet support.  

Shouldn't she just take over and send him to bed? His face was still so pale, even though his powers showed first signs of improvement. 

“There was a situation at the D.O.D,” Clark muttered. 

The twins' faces sported identical frowns. 

“What situation?” Jon pressed. 

Clark opened his lips but didn't speak. Lois could see he was wrestling for the right words, something that would lessen the blow of their grandfather's betrayal. 

But the truth needed to be said. Lois gritted her teeth. “Someone attacked your father with kryptonite.”

“What?” the twins said in unison.

Jordan’s eyes widened. “But don't you bounce right back?”

“Usually…” Clark hedged. “Unless I'm exposed for a long time or have the stuff still inside my system.”

Jon gasped “Inside? How?” 

“But I don't feel a thing,” Jordan chimed in. 

Clark's jaw worked. “Be glad that you don't. This is really an experience I don't wish on anyone, least of all on the two of you. And perhaps we should take this conversation inside. I’m still not feeling all that good.” 

“But… uh… you will, won’t you?” Jon stared at him, his eyes wide with barely suppressed fear now. 

Clark nodded. “Yeah, I will. In the morning when the sun comes up to heal me.” 

Both boys breathed a sigh of relief and started back toward the house, while Lois walked up to Clark and took his hand. 

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked. “I could take it from here while you get some more sleep.” 

Clark shook his head. “I’m much better than I was. And I won’t be leaving you to deal with all of this.” 

Lois drew a shaky breath and managed a faint smile. “Thank you.” 

She dreaded telling the boys about what their grandfather had done. But Clark was right. They needed to come clean about that as well and the threat their family was facing. Irons had agreed not to launch another attack on this world’s superman - for the time being. But who could say how he’d react if he ever found out that Clark had a family on this world? Would he consider that reassuring? Or just another reason to target their family? Already, one of her sons had almost died because of him. Clark had had three brushes with death in the past few weeks, and whatever was going on was far from over.

Her stomach clenched with dread as Jordan and Jon took a seat on the sofa while Clark sank into one of the chairs with a heavy sigh of exhaustion. 

“So, how did the Kryptonite get inside you, Dad?” Jordan asked. 

“The military synthesized a gas from it,” Clark said quietly. 

“The military?” Jon echoed.

Lois cleared her throat. “On your grandfather’s order.” 

Both boys gasped, their lips moving as if they were about to protest that Grandpa Sam would never do such a thing. But neither of them actually said anything. 

Clark continued. “Sam wanted a way to weaken me in case I ever became a threat to humanity.”  

Jordan spoke first. “But doesn’t he know you’d never-”

Clark held up his hands. “It’s not that easy, buddy. Jon, you remember what you saw on that footage of the other world.” 

“Yeah,” Jon muttered. “You killed Mom. Uh, I mean, the other you killed the other Mom, obviously.” 

Clark took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’d never willingly turn on the people of this Earth. We don’t know what the Kal-El of this other Earth went through, if he had people he loved or if he was alone. Bottom line is, these powers are dangerous, disastrous in the hands of the wrong person. All my life, I’ve been trying to be the right person. But no matter how hard I try, there’s always going to remain doubt. And you’re going to have to face that too if anyone ever finds out you’re Superman’s sons.” 

Clark fell silent, as did the boys. Lois watched them, not sure there was anything she could say to soothe them. She knew Clark hadn't wanted to burden his children with his powers. Even after twenty years of being married to Superman, she still found it hard to understand why people wouldn’t implicitly trust him. No person she knew had a heart as big as Clark’s, with the possible exception of Martha Kent. His mother always been his anchor in this world and Lois hoped that she could be that person for him when he needed her. 

Because most of the time Clark was that person for her. 

It took a while for Jordan to speak again. “Who did attack you? It wasn’t grandpa, was it?” 

Clark shook his head. “It was the same man who almost killed me the last time - John Henry Irons. His Lois was killed by my counterpart. So I don’t blame him for trying to stop that from happening here as well.” 

“I thought he was in custody?” Jon asked. 

Clark shook his head again. “He escaped.” 

“But they got him, right? He can’t hurt you anymore!” 

“Let's say I hope he doesn't.” As Clark looked up his face was pale and drawn, his exhaustion obvious. He slipped his glasses back on. “Your Mom convinced him to give me a chance. So, I guess we’re trying to work together now.” 

The boys stared at him. 

“That means you just what – trust him to be on our side?” Jon whispered. 

Clark shrugged. “I trust him to be on your Mom’s side, on the side of the people of this Earth. That’s going to have to be enough.” 

“But –”

Clark silenced Jordan with a glance. “Don’t believe I like this any better than you do. But it’s the reality I’ve got to live with. Your grandfather knows me better than anyone, except for the three of you. Yet he deemed it necessary to create weapons that can kill me. That hurts.” 

Worse than the kryptonite did. He didn’t say it. He didn’t have to. Lois could see it in the tired lines around his eyes, in the way his shoulders were slumped. Her ever optimistic husband looked thoroughly defeated and that wasn’t just the aftermath of prolonged kryptonite exposure or the remnants of the poison still inside his system. 

He pushed himself up and raked a tired hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, guys, but I’m beat. This gas really did a number on me. We can discuss this tomorrow. I need some rest.” 

“Dad!” Jordan chewed on his bottom lip as if there was more he wanted to ask. But then, with a slight shake of his head, he added. “Feel better.” 

Clark smiled. “Thank you.”

He turned and headed toward the stairs, his motions stiff, the weight of the world pressing down on him. Lois watched him, her heart clenching in sympathy. She knew he'd be back to his old self in a few hours. But until then…

“You should go to bed as well.” She looked back at her sons. “It's late.”

Jordan still only had eyes for his father who turned the corner and dragged his large frame up the stairs, his feet hitting the steps with heavy, slow thuds. 

“I’d heard about kryptonite before. But…” He swallowed. “I don't remember ever seeing him like this.”

“He didn't want to worry us,” Lois said past the lump in her throat. “But he's going to be fine. Get some sleep you two. I'll take good care of him.”

Or she'd try anyway since there wasn't much he could do besides riding out the symptoms. 

She smiled for the twins. “Good night, boys.”

“Night, Mom,” they echoed. 

***

Clark was still awake when she slipped under the covers next to him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she snuggled against his body. His temperature had dropped to a level that was more normal for him. 

“How are you feeling?” she whispered. 

“Sore.” He placed a kiss into her hair. “Better now that you're at my side.”

“I was so afraid I’d lose you there.” She pressed her nose against his side, inhaling the reassuring scent of her husband, soap mixed with a hint of perfume. 

“I'm sorry I did this to you.”

She rubbed his chest. “It's not your fault.”

“You know, Sam was right. The moment I told the boys about who I really am, I took part of their childhood. They shouldn't have seen me like this, not yet.”

“But they need to know what they're up against. Particularly Jordan.”

Clark's face scrunched up with anguish. “I pray that he never has to find out what kryptonite feels like.” With a soft groan he adjusted his position. “Ugh, I’ve slept through the whole ride and I'm still so tired.”

“Kryptonite sucks.”

He laughed. “Yeah, it sucks.” His eyes drifted shut. “Love you, Babe.”

She kissed his cheek. “Love you, too. Feel better.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled before his breathing evened out and he drifted off to sleep.