Twenty Four
Clark had started to relax a little. The debriefing process wasn't quite as bad as he had imagined it would be, at least for the Clinton Bridge and the arson fire Superman had put out that same day. In both those cases he knew he had done all that he could have done under the circumstances, both as Clark and as Superman. His left hand was itching under the gauze bandages and he was feeling better, not as tired, definitely stronger, even if it was human-normal. But even human-normal was better than he'd been feeling before and the pain was far less. The ceiling lights must be full-spectrum.

They were still talking about the arson fire that he'd reported on. He hadn't realized that Henderson's team had been assigned to help the arson squad investigate the spate of fires that had happened since the crystalquake. Or that Lois had been assigned the follow-ups to his original article, even though subsequent events got in the way and Perry had reassigned it.

"Clark, what were you thinking at the time?" Ricco asked.

"That I hoped that when fire started, the explosion had been hot enough, big enough to have killed them all instantly. That there should be a very nasty place in hell for anyone who would deliberately disable the fire-suppression system and bolt the doors on thirty people. That I was glad there weren't any children in the building." He glanced over at Jason. Lois had brought a pair of earphones for him while he played his Gameboy.

He turned back to Lois, Henderson, and Ricco. Ricco was frowning, looking at his hands.

"But what were your thoughts when you first came on the scene?" Ricco asked, looking up. "Lois said she was just hoping it wouldn't smell too bad so she could get through it, so she could get home."

"I, uh, can't answer that," Clark said. Ricco was looking at his hands again and he looked down to find out what was puzzling her. The bruise on his right hand had already faded to a faint discoloration and the damage to his left hand had healed to a circular scar that was already fading. The bandage was gone. He'd scratched it off without realizing it.

Ricco reached out and took his left hand, turning it over to look at the palm and the back. "If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have believed it," she said. She reached up to pull the hospital gown away from his neck, looking at the scar that still ran down the center of his chest, where the surgical team had split his sternum then stapled it back together. That wound had already knitted together as well. One of the staples was sitting on his skin and fell away when she touched it.

"How soon do you think before your powers come back?" she asked.

"Powers?" he squeaked. Lois chuckled and he gave her a dark look.

Ricco turned to Henderson. "William, how long were you planning to wait until you two let me in on this?"

Henderson shook his head with a laugh, putting his hands up. "I'm pulling a Schultz. I know nothing. I'm astonished you got anything out of him at all."

Ricco harrumphed at him then turned back to Clark. "If I asked you what Superman was thinking when he came on the scene, would you be able to answer me?"

"What makes you think I'd have any idea about that?"

"Because it has occurred to me that you can't answer the question because it wasn't Clark Kent who was first on the scene. That your first impression of the situation was not as a reporter but as a rescue worker. And that you work very hard to keep those points of view separate. So are you going to answer the question?"

"You told me I didn't have to answer any question I didn't want to," he reminded her.

"So I did, but a debriefing like this requires truthfulness and if you were on the scene in more than one capacity, and you only admit to one of them, well, that's a form of denial right there. And that does you and everyone else a disservice."

He looked over to Lois to see her reaction. She gave him a reassuring smile as she nodded. "She's right, you know," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Clark gave Henderson a sidelong look.

"I figured it out right after Nightfall," Henderson said. "I thought it was odd that you could be attacked, have a concussion serious enough to cause memory problems, and not have a mark on you. I checked out the area where Henry O. found you. I also found Superman's uniform buried in the crater. The cape was scorched."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Clark asked. His life had turned into something unrecognizable again. This has been one completely screwed up week. Is it too much to hope I'll wake up and this'll all be a nightmare?

Henderson shrugged. "You had your reasons to keep your identity under wraps. And so long as you didn't go too far outside the law, it didn't much matter."

"Who else has figured it out?"

Henderson chuckled. "I really don't know. It's not like there's a club or a secret handshake."

"Perry knows, Jimmy I'm not sure of," Lois said. "I'm sure Richard knew. Doctor Bryant knows, but that's because Doctor Faulkner had to tell him. If there's anybody else, they haven't mentioned anything to me, but they wouldn't be likely to."

"Perry knows?" He couldn't keep the squeak out of his voice, as much as he tried.

"Let's say he didn't believe my story about you being only part Kryptonian any more than he believed your story about where you'd disappeared to for six years," Lois told him.

"I blew it, didn't I?" Clark said. He managed a small self-depreciating chuckle.

"So, now that we have this out of the way," Ricco announced. "What were your thoughts when you first came on the scene?"

"It's less thoughts so much as a process," Clark said very quietly. He knew what he did when he arrived on an emergency scene but had never really analyzed it. It was a process he'd evolved over time. "First, I assess the situation. Are there survivors? Where are they, how can I best reach them, the extent of injuries. What else needs to be done to stabilize the situation. If it's already too late, like at the textile factory fire, the next step is to analyze the situation as a possible crime scene and try to determine the best way to put out the fire. That pretty much depends on my analysis of the fire and what the person in charge thinks should be done. In this case Chief Obote felt getting the fire out was more important than preserving the crime scene."

"What do you see your role as?"

Clark sat back and considered his answer. "Depends. A helper first. I'm fast. I'm strong, usually at least. I can usually come on a scene and see what needs to be done. But I'm not a cop, I don't do arrests. I turn perps over to the police so they can handle it. I'm not an EMT, although I can help them determine who needs what. Then, later, I'm a witness. I let the public know what happened, why it happened and maybe what might keep it from happening again."

"Why did you decide to do this?" Ricco asked.

"Because I can," Clark answered, focusing on a point on the far wall. "Because I can make the world a little better, I can be a good example. I can show people the world isn't as messed up as it sometimes looks, that one person can make a difference, whether or not they have physical power."

He refocused on Ricco. "I guess I'm really just a farm boy from the edge of the Bible belt." That got a chuckle from Lois and Henderson.

"Ready to go on?" Ricco asked after a moment.

"Not really," Clark admitted. "I really don't want to think about what happened Tuesday and Wednesday."

"Clark, it's okay," Lois said, rubbing her hand over his arm.

"No, it isn't okay," Clark told her. "Someone close to you is dead because I made an incredibly stupid error in judgment. Then I kept making mistakes, making it worse."

"Clark, would you rather we continue this tomorrow?" Ricco asked.

"I'd rather we didn't continue at all," he said. "But I know I'll be vetoed."

"I take it that means you're willing to continue?"

"Yeah, let's keep going."

There was a knock on the door, a pause then the door swung open to reveal a white uniformed nurse. "Visiting hours are over until seven," she announced as she stepped into the room. "Miss Lane, I'm told you can stay per Doctor Bryant's orders."

"Thank you," Lois said. "Bill, do you think you can take Jason home?"

"Not a problem," Henderson assured her. Jason had pulled his headphones off as soon as the nurse had opened the door. He looked from his mother to the police officer, ran over and gave his mother a hug. Then he grabbed Clark and gave the tall man a hug as well.

"Get better, Unca' Clark," he said. He ran back to Henderson, taking the officer's hand.

"We'll be back tomorrow afternoon, okay?" Ricco said, following Henderson out of the room.

-O-O-O-

Kitty Faulkner keyed Stoner's extension from one of the phones in the IT lab.

"Doctor Stoner," she began when the phone on the other end picked up. "This is Doctor Faulkner. I just wanted to let you know, we're delaying the test on your prototype plant for a few days."

"Why?" Stoner demanded.

"It's just a precaution," she assured him. "I'm having our security people double check the building and the reactor before we proceed. You know we had two murders in the building last Thursday."

"Those had nothing to do with my project, and you know it," Stoner insisted.

"Actually, I don't know it," Kitty responded. "But considering your plant is using kryptonite, and it does affect normal humans, I think we need to err on the side of caution and make sure there's no possibility of sabotage or terrorist activity. We should be ready to resume the test say, in a week, once we've secured the facility."

"You can't do this," Stoner protested. "The Met Power board has already approved the test. They're expecting it to go ahead on schedule."

"I'm sure they'll be willing to wait a week, once I explain that we need to upgrade security for the test," Kitty told him. "Not that they're going to have a choice. The decision is made."

"You can't do this," Stoner told her. "Everything is set for this Tuesday."

"Doctor Stoner, are you telling me you've gone ahead with the test preparations prior to my signing off on the work?"

"Of course not," Stoner said. He sounded like he was barely in control of himself. "It's simply that I was working under the assumption that the test would go ahead as planned."

"You know what they say about people who assume, Doctor," she said. "I'll let you know when you can reschedule the test." She hung up.

"That went well," Banks commented with only a touch of sarcasm. "I'll send a team out in the morning to check out the reactor building, make sure nobody has sabotaged it."

"Would your people even know what to look for?" Virtanen asked.

Banks had no answer.

-O-O-O-

Henderson dropped Jason off at his home, waiting until the boy was safely inside with his grandmother before heading back to police headquarters with Doctor Ricco.

"When I first came to Metropolis it was just after Superman had disappeared," she started. "I'd read the newspaper accounts, seen the videos of the man who could fly. I watched the city wonder where he'd gone, if he'd been killed. I watched them get used to the idea he wasn't there anymore."

"And now he's back and people don't want him back?" Henderson observed.

"The world's a much darker place than it was when he left," she said. "Does he understand that?"

Henderson chuckled. "He understands. It's just... well, it's like something Perry White said to me about Clark once. He's in this world, but he's not really of it. He walks through the world as if it was the way it should be, rather than the way it is. Then he tries to show us how we can get from where we are to where we can be."

"You make him sound delusional."

"Nothing could be further from the truth," Henderson said. "But he really is a farm boy from Kansas transplanted to the big city. And he can be annoying as all hell."

"So the Clark persona is the dominant personality?"

Henderson chuckled. "Clark is who he is. Superman is... a character he plays. At least that's my observation. Although I suspect there are times even he gets a little confused. It should make your job a little easier. Now you know who to remind to show up for the CIDs."

-O-O-O-

"How are you doing?" Clark asked. He hadn't moved out of the chair, but had pulled the blanket more closely around himself. Lois was pacing the small room as they waited for Clark's evening meal to arrive.

"I don't know, not really," she said. "I know it's going to take time to work through everything that's happened."

"I kind of figured you'd be furious once you remembered."

"I've had five days to get though that part," she said. "I understand what happened, why it happened. As much as I would like to, I can't get mad at you for doing what I asked you to. I just hadn't expected you to be able to do it. And I certainly hadn't expected you to just take off like that."

"I told you why I did it."

"After the fact," she reminded him. "I didn't know then what I'd done, what we'd done, to drive you away, to make you want to leave. That's what hurt, the not knowing. I think that hurt more than not knowing how I managed to get pregnant when I honestly couldn't remember who I'd made love to."

"Then Jason ends up looking like me," Clark completed for her.

"I think Perry came to the conclusion early on that we'd both gotten so drunk that neither of us remembered, or maybe you did and that's why you ran," she said.

"We both know that's not true."

"I know now. I didn't know then."

"At least you didn't come to the conclusion that I'd raped you."

"No, that's the one thing that never occurred to me. I always knew on some level that it was consensual."

"So, what happens now?"

Lois stopped pacing and sat on the bed, facing him. "I'm guessing Bryant will release you tomorrow, considering how fast you're healing up now."

"I'm guessing tomorrow I could leave by the window, assuming I had something to wear besides a hospital gown," Clark said.

"I'll run over to your apartment tomorrow morning with your mom and get you some clothes," she said. "By the way, where do you keep the 'suits'?"

Clark smiled. "I won't need one tomorrow. I promised Doctor Bryant I'd leave by the front door like I'm supposed to."

A knock on the door and a young woman walked in carrying a covered tray. "Dinner time," she announced cheerily. She put the tray on the bed table and moved the table in front of Clark. "Enjoy." She hurried out.

Clark uncovered the tray. Soup again. He pushed the table away. "It's a wonder anybody gets better around here."

"Should I try to smuggle in some Twinkies?" Lois asked with a chuckle.

"I wouldn't mind that," Clark admitted. "Or un pain au chocolat. There used to be a little boulangerie on rue de Dunkerque in Paris. Best pain au chocolat anywhere. You'd love it."

"Richard and I..." her voice broke as she fought back sudden tears. "We were planning to spend the weekend in Paris after the WTA conference. He'd wanted to surprise me with the reservations, but I found out anyway. I can't believe he's dead. I can't believe how close I came to losing you too."

"I shouldn't have let him come with me," Clark said. "I could have reconnoitered the area, come back with the information for Bill."

"Do you honestly think you could have stopped him from going out there with or without you?" Lois asked. "Richard was an investigate reporter before he got promoted to assistant editor. Some of the stunts he pulled scared even me. And he probably knew the risks better than you did."

"We should have turned back when we found Jason had stowed away," Clark said. "Richard suggested it. But I talked him out of it. It was already late. It would have been even later when we got back and..."

"And you figured you could protect them," Lois said. "Clark, you and Richard, whether you intended it or not, gave Jason something he'd never even dreamed of. He will always remember going camping with his two daddies. And even though things turned horribly wrong, he will always remember that the two of you worked together to protect him."

"How's Jason doing, really?"

"He misses Richard. He cries at night because his daddy isn't around to tuck him in. He has nightmares. But your mom and Ben and I have been concentrating on the good memories, and that helps. He'll be okay."

"I'm glad," Clark said. There was a long silence as they regarded one another. "I do have a couple questions though, about me being here mostly."

"I'm not a doctor, but I'll do my best," Lois said.

"You said I had a common blood type and I've had transfusions?"

"Yeah," Lois said. "Sure surprised Doctor Bryant. You test out as having O negative blood. Your hemoglobin is a little different, but not enough to matter. They were able to cross-match your blood just fine and they figure your body will replace the transfused blood without any problem."

"That's nice to know, I guess," Clark commented. "Surprising, since I'm not even human."

"According to Doctor Bryant, no one in the operating room, except possibly the anesthesiologist, noticed anything out of the ordinary during surgery. There was nothing to indicate you were anything but fully human. The differences are all on the cellular level, at least that's what he told me."

"So then, why was I unconscious for five full days?"

Lois sighed. " Clark, you had three major surgeries in less than twenty-four hours. Their plan was to keep you in 'normal' mode because they had no way to predict how quickly they could make you normal in case you did need more surgery. Plus, I guess when someone's on a respirator, they're kept sedated and paralyzed, if they're not already unconscious. You have no idea how bad off you were. Perry had Polly update your obituary, for God's sake. Perry actually printed it," she told him. Her voice was shaking. "They came very close to losing you on the operating table more than once. When we transferred you here, Bryant did order the lights changed out in the room you were in. It just didn't seem to do a whole lot of good, until today. You simply wouldn't wake up."

"I'm sorry I caused so much trouble," he said softly hanging his head, avoiding her eyes.

"You are a lunkhead," Lois intoned solemnly. She was gratified to see surprise on his face as his head came up, eyes wide behind his glasses.

"Have you any idea how much worse it would have been if you had died out there too, if Jason had lost both of his fathers. If I... if we had lost not only Clark, but Superman was dead at the hands of Lex Luthor. I doubt we could have kept the medical examiner's report secret, and it would have come out in the autopsy. Jason and I would have been on the run, away from Luthor's cronies, and SHADO, not to mention all the crazies going after every one else you ever cared about."

"You've been thinking about this, haven't you," he said.

"Ever since I figured out who Jason's father really was."

-O-O-O-

"These figures calculate out properly," Bridgette Crosby commented. She and Kitty had been reviewing Stoner's calculations for the power plant test. "But that is assuming his initial figures on kryptonite half-life and radiation output are correct."

"According to Hamilton's original mineral analysis, those figures are correct," Kitty told her.

"Then, if there's a problem here, I'm just not seeing it," Bridgie said, shaking her head. "According to these figures, and my recalculations, there shouldn't be a problem with the power plant test. Kryptonite has to be one of the most stable high energy isotopes ever."

"No, there's something wrong, I feel it," Kitty told her. "There's something wrong with those figures."

"Kitty, a feeling isn't exactly a good example of scientific analysis," Bridgie commented.

"A feeling is what I have," Kitty told her. "I may not be able to quantify it yet, but there is something here we're missing."

"Pity Superman's not around to look at it," Bridgie said, giving her friend a sidelong look. "I mean, he's dead, right?"

"They haven't found his body yet," Kitty said.

-O-O-O-

"Faulkner just postponed the test," Straker grated into his phone.

"Did she say why?" Lake asked.

"Something about additional security precautions," he told her. He sounded furious. "Since that article on the dangers of kryptonite to humans came out, Faulkner and her bunch have been running scared of their own reflections."

"Would it hurt to postpone the test?"

"Everything is set for Tuesday, you know that," he said.

"So what do you intend to do?"

He sighed heavily. "We have too much invested in this project to let a bitch in a suit get in our way."

"You're going to go ahead anyway," she said. "Without permission."

"We can always blame Luthor's people, or terrorists," he said. "I want you to get onto Carlin again tomorrow. See how the search is progressing."

"He won't be happy being interrupted again," she pointed out.

"Since when does that bother me?"

"I'll send a message in the morning," she promised and hung up. She turned back to her computer monitor, to the real-time satellite pictures of the Arctic ice pack near Alaska. Infra-red imaging showed a warm area at the edge of the ice and the pack in that area was beginning to breakup, revealing more warm water and, more ominously, an oil slick. The satellite detectors didn't reveal any excess radioactivity in the area, but Lake suspected an analysis of the water would reveal the presence of both weapons grade and power grade plutonium.

It was unlikely Carlin and Sky-diver would respond to her message. She wondered if Straker really cared if Carlin responded or not. Straker had always been single-minded in his pursuit of the aliens that threatened Earth, but ever since Superman's return he seemed to have tipped over to fanaticism. No, more than fanaticism – paranoia.

-O-O-O-

Kitty Faulkner took the copies she'd made of the figures and put them in her briefcase. Bridgie Crosby gave her a concerned look. "I may know someone who can help," Kitty explained.

"Anybody I know?"

"I'd rather not say," Kitty admitted, snapping her briefcase shut and walking out of her office.

-O-O-O-

Lupe Leocadio looked over at her fax machine as it first chirped, did its electronic hand shake, and then started printing. She grabbed the first sheet. The cover sheet indicated it was sent from Gotham City, from the Office of Police Commissioner James W. Gordon himself.

"About time," she muttered to herself as she read the other sheets as they came off the fax machine. Tri-state Transport. It was owned by a holding company, which in turn was owned by other companies in a complex financial shell game that made her head hurt just trying to untangle it.

The clincher, however, was at the bottom. The four major stockholders of the company that ultimately owned Tri-State Transport: Eldon Stoner, Adam Fletcher, Paul Franks and Ursula Kraus. They'd gained control of the company five years go. GPD was looking into the company in regards to illegal arms trading as well as transporting drugs.

There was a hand-written note at the bottom of the last page: Wolf: Hope this helps. Tell the blue Boy Scout Darth says hello, Hope he's in the air soon. JWG.

She chuckled in spite of herself. Darth, huh? Suits him. So long as he stays out of my town. The Boy Scout is bad enough without adding a bat to the mix.