Mercy was outside guarding the door. Lex would just stay there listening, resting his head on the edge of Clark's bed until the breathing stopped. No one would see him. No one would know if his eyes were wet. When Clark's breathing stopped, that would be the time to become Luthor again. He'd have Mercy call Bruce Wayne -- let Batman deal with Superman's body. Once Clark was gone, there was nothing sane to do with it except to dissect it or to bury it with full pomp and honor. Lex didn't want to do either.
He'd destroy Belle Reve, leaving not one stone upon another. He'd pluck the Joker from the ruins and torture him to death slowly. Then he'd put a bullet in his own brain -- the same kryptonite bullet that had killed Clark. He'd have to ask Mercy to cremate his body right away -- he wasn't sure his mutant metabolism wouldn't heal a fatal head wound given long enough.
He had a plan. He never wanted to use it. It was so much better to sit here, all alone, with tears in his eyes, listening to his lover's last labored breaths.
Mercy opened the door and let a bunch of people into the room.
"Traitor," Lex growled at her, sitting up and hastily wiping his face.
She just rolled her eyes at him and closed the door again.
They descended upon Clark like birds upon a carcass. Lex could still do rage. "What's the meaning of this?" he demanded.
Cameron and Chase, eyes wide, drew in closer to House. The dark-haired doctor whom Lex had never seen before approached him, making soothing noises. Lex glared him to a stop.
"Doctor stuff," House said. He hooked his cane onto the rail of Clark's deathbed, pulled the covers back and opened up Clark's gown. He started palpating Clark's abdomen and chest. Lex remembered that House's original exam had been rather hastily curtailed after he'd broken off three needles trying to get a blood sample. He wondered what the doctor thought he'd missed.
"Has he vomited at all since you scared away my delicate little flowers, here?" House asked, without looking at him.
"No," Lex said, anger bleeding away in tiredness and curiosity.
"So it's been... what? Forty-five minutes?" House asked.
"About that," Chase answered. "Maybe a little longer. Fifty or fifty-five, I'd say. Just before we left Ultrasound."
"Hmm. That could be bad," House muttered.
Lex was now thoroughly confused. The dark-haired man touched him gently on the shoulder. "Let's step back and let them work," he suggested reasonably.
"Who are you?" Lex hadn't slept more than two hours out of the last forty-eight, and events were moving too fast for him. At least they were moving again, though he wasn't entirely sure how. Any movement at all away from Clark's imminent death was a good thing.
"I'm Dr. James Wilson." He had a good handshake -- reassuring, solid. Before Lex could gather his wits to threaten him for his silence, Wilson said, "Don't worry. House filled me in, a little, and all your secrets are absolutely safe with me. All his secrets, too." Lex let Wilson draw him away from Clark's bedside, just a few feet. The space was quickly filled by Dr. Chase.
"What are they doing to him?" Lex asked. Wilson's hand was warm on his shoulder.
"House has a theory, based on some results that came back from the lab on..."
"Ha ha!" House declared. Lex couldn't quite see what he was doing -- Chase was in the way. "Told you so! Colostrum!"
"Oh, my God," Cameron said.
"And that's why fifty minutes without vomiting would be bad?" Chase guessed.
"Yup. They were up to about twenty minutes apart before the kryptonite treatment, weren't they?"
"About that," Chase answered.
"How are you going to, uh, get him started again? It's not like you can inject Pitocin," Cameron wondered.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Lex asked, but nobody answered him. He shouldered in past Chase. Wilson didn't stop him.
"Oldest trick in the book," House told his fellows. He pinched Clark's nipples and began rolling them between thumb and forefingers.
Lex took three steps to get around the other side of the bed, and punched House in the nose, knocking him to the floor. Chase and Wilson grabbed Lex by the arms and held him back. Cameron knelt beside her boss, wiping the blood off his face with the corner of her lab coat.
"How dare you!" Lex shouted.
"Mr. Luthor! Please!" Chase shouted as Lex struggled to get free.
Clark groaned loudly, rolled onto his side, and threw up. Lex had never been so cheered by something so disgusting. He stopped trying to kill House immediately.
Chase let go of Lex's arm and went to Clark's side. Cameron helped House up. Lex shook himself loose from Wilson (who didn't try very hard to keep him) and grabbed Clark's hand.
Clark's eyes were open, big and green and full of baffled pain. "Lex?" he whispered.
"Right here," Lex answered thankfully.
Chase cleaned Clark up, and then he and Cameron transferred Clark over to the still-clean second bed. House washed the blood from his face in the attached bathroom, and Wilson helped him. Lex held Clark's hand the whole time.
House stumped back in from the restroom. He didn't act too surprised at having been attacked by a patient's loved one. Lex's researches had revealed that it happened frequently.
"That's going on your bill," House grumbled.
Lex didn't apologize. He kept hold of Clark's hand while House examined his throat with a penlight and poked around some more.
Finally House splayed his hands across Clark's lower ribcage, just below and slightly to the left of his breastbone. "You still have x-ray vision?"
Clark swallowed and nodded.
"Look right here, right under my hands," House instructed.
"What am I looking for?" Clark asked faintly. He'd been gradually losing his voice all day, Lex thought.
"I think you'll know it when you see it."
Clark obligingly narrowed his eyes and tried to curl up so he could look into his own stomach. He was having a hard time getting the angle right, so Lex helped prop his head up with pillows. Suddenly Clark gasped. He looked up at the doctor.
"So, congratulations are in order?" House said.
"I... How?" Clark looked very confused.
"Well, you'd know how a lot better than I would," House leered.
"But..."
"The stomach's a pretty good incubation chamber, theoretically, as long as an acidic environment isn't a concern and the parent organism can afford to do without food for a while. There are fish that are mouth-brooders. It's not that different. Can you see the heart beat?"
Clark nodded, eyes rapt and fixed on (or just past, Lex realized) House's hands. "Fast," he whispered. "Like a little bird."
"How big is the head?"
Clark looked again, and made a circle a couple of inches across with his fingers. He smiled suddenly. "It's a boy," he breathed.
"Wait," Lex protested, "there's a baby? Clark's..."
"Pregnant. That's your diagnosis. You can write Cuddy a check." He patted Clark gingerly on the head. "Your throat's almost big enough already. You'll be fine. It's only a matter of time, now. There, there."
"All this has been morning sickness?" Lex said in disbelief.
"Nope!" House picked up his cane and headed for the door. "All this has been labor. Chase, go swipe some stuff from Obstetrics. Cameron, get some ice chips or something. The patient seems a little dehydrated. And clean up that other bed."
"Labor?" Lex whispered. They were going to have a baby? Now?
Clark didn't stop beaming even when he leaned over and threw up again.