Find Me

While the paramedics did their best to avoid any jarring movements that could potentially exacerbate Clark's injuries, the teen still felt every minute shift in position multiplied exponentially.

Now would be a great time for some painkillers, he thought, gritting his teeth as his head and neck were immobilised and his body strapped down to the board to begin transport. All along, his father was there, muttering soothing words that everything was going to be all right. It got to be a little annoying after the first dozen times, but Clark had to admit he needed to hear those assurances.

"Dad…" he stated anxiously when there was a brief lull in the activity around him. "Was it an earthquake?" If it had been, as Clark had initially surmised, fear of a sudden aftershock began to creep into his thoughts. He didn't relish the thought of being buried under a pile of concrete again, not after finally being found.

Ed quickly shook his still tear-stained face; pondered what to tell his son. Honesty won out. "No. Not an earthquake. It was a bomb, Clark."

"A bomb? Seriously?" Clark uttered in shocked surprise.

"Yeah," Ed replied with a short nod, feeling his chest tighten at the destruction and death he'd witnessed at the Health and Wellness building earlier; holding back more tears as he thought of Donna…

Well, that explains everything, Clark concluded, remembering now the deafening blast he'd heard just before his car had been crushed. Who'd want to bomb City Hall?

"Some sicko trying to kill the mayor, or something?" Clark asked, half-jokingly. He stifled a morbid giggle, and grimaced at the shock of pain that stabbed through his side.

"No… we don't know… There's been others… Not just City Hall." Ed swallowed the lump in his throat, again tormented by the terrible knowledge of what the third bomb had just taken from them. "When we couldn't reach you, Clark… Dean told Greg you'd gone to a municipal building… Your mom and I…. We were so worried, son."

Steve gently nudged Ed. "Okay, we've cleared a path to get him out, Ed. Let's go."

"All right," Ed nodded. He gave Clark a look of encouragement and edged himself back carefully, still keeping hold of his hand.

"You ready, Clark? We're gonna get you out of here, so hang on," Steve advised.

"Okay," Clark whispered hoarsely, and braced himself for the inevitable jolt of pain and discomfort that was sure to greet him when he was moved.

The movement was surprisingly gentle as the paramedics and firefighters angled him carefully through a narrow opening in the demolished parking structure. It was almost surreal to Clark as he was carried through the dim, dust-choked surroundings with electrical wiring dangling like odd tentacles from what used to be the upper level of the garage.

"Easy, easy," Ed urged them on. He pulled away when his cell phone started ringing. Sophie. It was with a thankful heart that he was able to reassure his wife that their son had been found alive. "He's gonna be okay; he's getting an IV started, and... and he's okay. He's conscious."

Sophie, however, didn't want to be spared anything, and Ed gave in, knowing it would hurt her to hear her first-born was indeed injured.

"Soph, he's got a broken leg, a broken wrist… I think he's got some broken ribs… I'm telling you everything I know."

"Is-is he okay?" Sophie inquired timidly, voice on edge, still needing to have her fears allayed, in spite of Ed's attempts. "Where are you taking him? I'll meet you there."

"No, no," Ed warned. "Stay at home with Izzy. Just stay safe. It's not over, okay? I'm gonna take him to the hospital; get him X-rayed. We're gonna check him out, everything's gonna be fine."

Sophie's voice was still trembling. "Just tell him I love him, okay?"

Steve broke in. "Ed – we're ready to move."

"Okay, Soph, I gotta go," Ed said.

"Eddie… please," Sophie entreated, "be careful."

"I will," he vowed. "Okay. I love you. 'Bye." He ended the call and followed his son's gurney to the waiting ambulance.

"Dad?" Clark called out weakly. His father had been out of his line of sight for too long.

"I'm here, Clark," Ed replied, coming right up to the doors as Steve and his team were hoisting the teen.

"Good," he sighed. "Was that mom?"

"Yeah, buddy." A smile graced his lips. "She's home with Izzy. I told her you're okay. She wants you to know she loves you, okay? Now, I don't want her to leave the house because this thing still isn't over yet."

Clark's eyes widened with understanding. "There's more bombs out there?"

Ed nodded solemnly. "We think so. We thought we had the guy, but…"

"But what?" Clark prodded.

"We were wrong. He's still out there." Ed had to ruthlessly shove aside his grief as his grip on his emotions was slipping away again. It was taking every ounce self-control not to yell and curse at what the madman's actions had done to his son; to keep certain knowledge that Donna was dead from utterly undoing him.

"Dad…" Clark said tentatively, his expression turned pensive.

"What is it?"

"I think I might have been hallucinating or something, but… I could have sworn that I heard Donna and her team down here before you came, but then they went away… Did I imagine all that?"

Ed's spirits dipped and he shook his head, his throat constricting as he remembered how he instructed Donna to abandon her search for his son. "No," he whispered. "You didn't imagine it. She wanted to find you Clark, she was down here, but she had to go try to track down the guy who's been planting the bombs, so… I told her to go…"

"Because you wanted to find me," Clark added.

"Because I wanted to find you," Ed echoed, smiling through his heartache.

Clark read the expression on his father's face and knew something awful was hiding behind the smile. "What's wrong, Dad? You found me. I'm-"

"Right after Donna left, she took her team into a building where we thought the bomber was," Ed explained, seized with a fit of anger and remorse. "I don't know all the details, Clark, but… it was the wrong guy. It was a set-up from the beginning, and... She's dead, Clark. Greg said she was standing right in front of the guy when the bomb he was wearing went off."

Clark went silent for a few beats, realising for the first time how much more tragic a day this was turning out to be. He hadn't considered for a moment much beyond his own predicament; hadn't imagined there could have been heavier losses suffered. Now he saw the very real pain in his father's eyes that had initially been veiled by concern for his safety.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't know," Clark said. "I –I was so mad and scared when she stopped looking for me when they were so close… but…"

"Don't think about it anymore, Clark. It's not your fault," Ed stated. "The guy who did this will pay for what he's done, all right?"

"Yeah," Clark said in agreement, "after all, he totalled my car. Nobody gets away with that."

In spite of everything, Ed couldn't help but chuckle. "Okay," he said, "let's get you fixed up. You ready to ride?"

"I'm gonna be okay," Clark said, closing his eyes briefly, suddenly feeling fragile and vulnerable, trying to reassure himself with a mini pep-talk.

"You're gonna be fine," whispered Ed lovingly.

Clark took a breath. He truly wanted his father to stay with him, but felt in his bones that this time, the job truly needed to come first. "You gotta go, Dad," Clark said bravely.

Ed shook his head. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

"No, Dad, please," the boy begged, thinking of how proud he was of his father and of all the sacrifices that had already been made. I'm safe now, he thought, but the rest of the city isn't. "You gotta get this guy."

"Ed," Steve interrupted from the open bay doors of the ambulance, "comin' or goin'?"

"Just – no, hang on, hang on," Ed answered distractedly, and turned back to his son. "Buddy, I'm not-"

"Dad, no," Clark insisted, "you gotta do this. I'm gonna be fine. Please…"

Ed could see in Clark's face it wasn't false bravado urging him on. "Are you sure?" he asked, nevertheless.

"Yes," Clark responded. You have to do this, Dad. Do it for me, and do it for Donna. Get this guy. I know you can do it.

Ed didn't need any further convincing. "Okay," he said, struck by the fervor in his son's plea. "Okay, I'll see you at home." He leaned over and gently kissed Clark's forehead. "I love you," he uttered. "Your mom and I love you."

"I love you, too," Clark said, and watched as his father hopped off the back of the ambulance, sending him one last look, a look filled with pride. Two slaps on the closed doors signalled to the driver it was time for them to take the precious cargo to the hospital, and Clark was on his way.

As he was borne quickly to his destination, Clark whispered a silent prayer for his father's safety. Somehow, he had the bold confidence that his father, the man who had been such a distant, damaged stranger for so long; the man who had come to his rescue and found him would also be the man who would work with his team today to find the solution to the chaos – and ultimately find the man responsible.

I know you'll find him, Dad. And when you do, I know you'll nail his sorry ass to the wall. You'll find him, just like you found me.

END