The car ride to the hospital was one of the quietest moments Jonathan and Martha had ever experienced. They had never been so disconnected since the day Martha had been told she would never have any children. This day was worse. Clark couldn't fix this. Clark couldn't fix anything.
The truck pulled into the parking lot. Martha sat rigidly straight in her seat. She barely moved until Jonathan built up the courage to break the eerie stillness within the truck. The door was opened and the resounding sound was deafening to his tired ears. He jumped in surprise even though he had been the one to cause the sound in the first place. Jonathan didn't want to be able to hear or feel anything. Martha couldn't.
As they walked into the hospital, Jonathan realized that he couldn't remember what number the room was. How could he forget the room where his son was… was….
Martha continued robotically past him and down the hall. Following her lead, Jonathan tried not to look in any of the rooms they passed by, but he couldn't help it. Patients with tubes sticking out of what seemed like everywhere were lying asleep. Some of them were awake and visiting with family. Some weren't.
The big block letters peered down at the couple as they went through the swinging doors. They weren't so much as letters like they were a sentence. I see you. I see you. ICU.
Jonathan tried to ignore the creepy sentence that echoed through this wing.
Finally, they reached the room where their… son was. Where he resided. Where his body rested. Actually, there was no right way to say it. Jonathan could try, but there really was no way to say what he was trying to, even in his own head.
Martha wasn't opening the door. She was standing there in front of it, but her hand hadn't left her side. Jonathan stayed behind her for a minute before reaching around her to twist the knob.
What was Lex doing there? He sat there, surrounded by his laptop and a cup of coffee. It was in a Styrofoam cup the hospital sold it in. Lex didn't drink cheap coffee. He'd even bought the Talon a latte machine so that he could get quality drinks. He didn't drink cheap coffee.
His briefcase was there too. It was propped up against the hospital chair Lex sat in. The seat couldn't be that comfortable. He couldn't be happy about that either.
"Lex? What are you doing here?" Martha seemed to snap into focus with reality.
"I just, … I couldn't leave yet."
"You should have gone home and gotten some sleep. It's not like he's going anywhere. He'll always be here." Martha murmured as she stared at her son.
"The doctor came in a few times. He did some tests. He said that, that there was so much damage to the brain that… Clark probably won't ever wake up. They're amazed that he even survived."
"But he didn't." Martha couldn't tear her eyes away from the form of her son. He looked almost exactly as if he was sleeping. If only for the shock white bandages around his head and the monitors and the sharp hospital smell, he could have just been sleeping. It could have been any other day and she could have been coming to wake him up for school. Any of it could have been happening. But it wasn't. And he wasn't going to wake up and go to school.
Jonathan moved past his wife and stood by Clark's side. He reached down, taking the limp hand into his.
Lex looked between the two parents. They were so different from the people he had seen just days before. Martha was cold. She had never been cold before. She had been warmth and happiness. She had been home.
Jonathan was withdrawn. He had been so straightforward and passionate. He had been the protector and fighter for his family. Had been.
