Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville or its characters.
Author's Note: After this, I think there's only going to be one more chapter of this story. Things are starting to wrap up. Thank you all for your continued support!
Clark looked confused as his mother pulled into the parking lot at the Smallville Medical Center emergency room. "Maamaa?" he questioned his mother as Martha parked the truck and helped him out of his child seat. "Daadaa here?"
"Yep, Daadaa's here."
"Why, Maamaa? Clark thought…Clark thought Daadaa was took!"
"He was, honey! He was taken to the hospital! That's what Maamaa's been trying to explain to you!" Clark, you silly goose, Martha thought to herself. She couldn't get over this immense fear Clark had with his parents "being took."
Martha carried Clark inside, and asked about her husband, Jonathan Kent. After being told that Jonathan was being examined by the doctor, Martha took Clark into the waiting room. Clark amused himself with a pile of children's books that had been set in the corner. After picking out a book with a picture of a puppy on the cover, he toddled back over to Martha. "Maamaa read Clark?"
"Okay, Maamaa will read to Clark. Come up and sit on Maamaa's lap."
Seven hundred books later (or so it seemed for Martha,) a nurse came out and asked Martha if she wanted to see her husband.
"Your husband's going to be all right," the nurse told Martha as they walked through the halls of the hospital, Martha helping Clark along. "He just threw his back out, and he's in traction. He's going to be here for a couple of days."
Martha turned to her son. "Hear that, honey? Daadaa's going to be all right!" Clark smiled.
Jonathan was propped up in bed, his back resting on what looked like a thick cushion. He looked very tired, but smiled when he saw his wife and son.
"Daadaa!" Clark exclaimed, and held out his arms for his father. Martha lifted him up onto the edge of his father's bed, but warned that his father couldn't hug him; his back hurt too much. Clark just reached out a hand toward his father; Jonathan took it tenderly in his.
"How are you, Jonathan? You look exhausted," Martha said quietly.
"They gave me so many painkillers that I'm struggling to stay awake," he moaned softly.
Martha kissed him gently on the cheek. "They say you're going to be here for a few days," she said quietly.
Jonathan sighed. "Well, it's not like I can do a lot of work on the farm anyway. Not with a bad back." He smiled at Clark. "But I would be hurt a lot worse if you hadn't helped me, Clark. You saved Daadaa's life."
"You were such a good boy, helping Daadaa," Martha cooed, bringing her son in for a hug.
Clark smiled in his mother's arms. "Clark good boy."
"That's right. Clark's a very good boy." Jonathan yawned. "These pills are knocking me out, Martha."
"You need your rest, honey. Clark and I will go home and come back to visit later. Do you want me to bring you anything?"
Jonathan smiled. "Bring enough cookies for Clark and I. If I can't give him his bath, we'll at least share a bedtime snack. Won't we, Clark?"
"Clark love eat," Clark smiled. Jonathan and Martha both laughed.
Martha said goodbye to Jonathan, and helped Clark give his father a goodbye kiss. Jonathan fell asleep as Martha left the hospital with Clark.
"See, Clark?" Martha said to her son as she carried him outside to the truck so they could drive home. "You shouldn't be afraid when strange men come to the farm to take Daadaa away. They could be bringing him here to the hospital, so he can get better. Daadaa was very hurt."
"Clark…Clark no lose Maamaa Daadaa," Clark whimpered back to his mother.
"You're not going to lose us, honey," Martha promised him. "Not with abilities like yours!"
Clark simply smiled. "Clark good boy," he told himself once more.