Memory

Chapter 4

Author's Note: Okay everyone, I just wanted to thank all of you that have reviewed so far. The feedback has been so much better than expected. Now, I have a response to one review I received.

I do know a decent amount about the way a hospital works, since, A: My dad works in an intensive care unit, and B: I myself am going into the field of Nursing.So please do not assume that I know less than you. I realize that a four-inch gash isn't that big a deal, but people who are reading the story up to this point know that this is Clark Kent we're talking about, and also, you can still bleed to death from a four-inch knife wound. Yes, a "Podunk hospital would treat him, unfortunately, when it comes to small towns, not all of them actually have a hospital, and yes, I realize that I neglected to mention that – in going over past stories, I have found that I have left out certain details on the assumption that people will figure them out – I am working on remedying that issue. Finally, pertaining to the healing of the knife wound, I have my plans for that, which will be revealed in a future chapter. You should remember that certain details about stories can come back much later on with a surprising twist. Trust me, I read enough stories and have had enough VERY experienced writers talk to me about writing methods to know what I am doing here.

Thank you for reviewing.

PS: I don't remember ever asking for critique on my bio.

And now, for the rest of you, let's continue with the story.

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Lana sat curled up in an overstuffed armchair... it was Clark's favorite. He had dragged the thing out of his loft when they had moved into their apartment. She remembered all the times she had caught him sitting in it past midnight, attempting to get in some last minute studying for a test in one of his classes.

She would stand in the doorway for a few minutes, just watching him as he went over his notes, checking and double-checking what he had written with what was in his books. She loved how cute he looked after he had run his hand through his hair for the thousandth time. After a minute, he would pause briefly before looking up at her, a smile on his face. 'I still can't figure out how you manage to sneak up on me like that,' he would grin. Lana would beg him to come to bed and he, of course, would happily comply with her request, his exam forgotten until the next morning. And now all she could do was hope that she would see her husband again in this lifetime...

She looked up at a picture on the wall across the room from her that showed the two of them on their wedding day and smiled. Clark's smile couldn't possibly have been any bigger and he looked so carefree. The weight-of-the-world look she had always noticed him having while they were in high school was gone from his eyes. She turned her attention to the picture next to it that had been taking when they had cut the cake at their reception. Laughter lit up Clark's face, which happened to be smeared with white frosting. Her own face held only the slightest smudge of white at the tip of her nose.

She sighed, finally returning her gaze to the note in her hand.

Lana,

We know how hard all of this is for you. Never forget that you are always welcome to come out to the farm at any time, day or night. And if you need to talk, I'm always here to listen.

Love,

Martha

Lana smiled. She still hadn't told them; Clark was supposed to have been the first to know... But right now, she really needed someone else to help her bear this incredible and wonderful burden. And Lex, who, as usual, had managed to find out on his own, wasn't exactly the kind of person she usually went to when she needed to spill her heart.

She stood and went to the door, stepping into her shoes and grabbing her coat and keys before she headed out the door to her car.

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"Jonathan, did you hear that?" Martha asked sitting up in bed.

"Hear what?" he asked groggily, wincing as she turned the light on.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. There it was again; an urgent pounding at the front door, just audible over the sound of the rain beating on the roof overhead. "Someone's at the door!" she said, hurrying out of bed and pulling on her robe.

"Martha, it's two in the morning and it's pouring out!" Jonathan cried as she hurried down the stairs. She quickly unlocked the door, pulling it open to be greeted by a rather wet and bedraggled looking Lana.

"You must be freezing! Come in Lana, honey," she said as she headed into the kitchen and filling the teapot before putting it on the stove to boil. "Have a seat while I go get you something warm to change into, and then I'm going to make you some nice, hot tea," she told Lana before hurrying upstairs and into Clark's old room. Digging through his dresser, she managed to dig up some old flannel pajama pants and an oversized Metropolis University sweatshirt and took them down to Lana. "Here you go, Lana. You go change and I'll make this tea for you."

Lana smiled as her mother-in-law went to work. After a minute, she wandered down the hall to the bathroom where she changed into the clothes she had been given. They smelled like him; even after all this time, his clothes from high school reminded her of the way it felt when she was wrapped safely in his arms. She rung her wet clothes out over the sink and folded them, setting them on the edge of the counter before emerging from the bathroom to the smell of hot herbal tea.

"Just leave your clothes in the bathroom, Lana, I'll take care of them later," Martha called down the hall. Lana smiled and made her way back down the hall to the kitchen, where she took a seat on a stool at the counter.

"I really appreciate you doing all of this for me, Martha," she said, taking the mug she was offered and breathing in the warm, lemony smell.

"You're family Lana; and I know how upset Clark would be if anything happened to you."

Lana smiled. "Clark has always told me about what great parents you are. He even told me once that he always though you'd be the best grandparents in the world."

Martha's smile slipped. "Poor Clark. He would be so good with kids... and we don't even know if he can have any." Lana set her mug down and took the older woman's hands in her own. She couldn't hold back a grin.

"I don't think that's something we'll have to worry about anymore."

Martha's expression was one of surprise before tears sparkled in her eyes. "You're pregnant?" Lana nodded happily. "Oh honey, congratulations! I can't believe you haven't told me about this before now, though," Martha said, pulling Lana into a tight hug.

"I was hoping to let Clark know before anyone else..." Lana couldn't hold back the tears that slid down her cheeks as she tightly held onto her mother-in-law.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart," Martha said sympathetically.

Lana shook her head. "No one could have expected something like this to happen," she sighed, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand as they released each other from the embrace.

Martha frowned suddenly. "I can't believe that you're still running The Talon by yourself!" she chided the younger woman, her expression disapproving.

Lana couldn't help but laugh. "You have nothing to worry about there. Lex has managed to hire enough new help that I can't get anywhere near the equipment. In fact, I think the only thing I've been doing recently has been breaking dishes," she smiled.

"Lex knows then?" Martha asked, an eyebrow raised.

"He kind of figured it out when I kept having to go home sick," Lana shrugged, taking another sip of her cooling tea.

"But he is keeping you off your feet?"

"Yes. In fact, if he had his way, I'd probably be going around town in a motorized wheelchair," Lana chuckled.

Martha laughed with her. "I'm glad to hear that someone's been looking out for you the last three months. But for now, I think you need to get some decent sleep. You finish up that tea while I go set up Clark's old bed for you to use."

"Thank you again Martha."

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Clark sat staring out the window as the sun slowly climbed the towers of Metropolis to its place over the skyline. But to him, it was just too fake. The colors seemed dull and plain. It was as though he had once seen it from a better vantage point sometime in the past – not that he could really remember...

"Clark? What are you doing up so early?" Alex asked. He looked up to see her standing in the doorway, her hands full of charts. She must have glanced in on her way to the nurses station.

"I don't know... I had this really vivid dream that I was supposed to be up early to finish some work and I slept through my alarm clock. I woke up then and I couldn't get back to sleep. The weird thing is, I feel like there's something that I should be doing right now...

"Like what?" Alex asked, intrigued. She stepped further into the room and set the charts on a table before taking a seat in the chair beside his bed.

Clark shrugged. "I don't know... farm work I guess; feeding cows, mucking out stalls. Something along those lines."

"That's really interesting Clark. With that and the dream in perspective, maybe you grew up on a farm," Alex smiled. "Well, I guess I should go do my work," she said, glancing up at the clock. "Are you hungry? I could grab you something to eat when I'm done."

He nodded. "Yeah, breakfast does sound good right now."

"Alright then, I'll be back before too long."

Once she was gone, Clark glanced at the dented side rail of his bed, the finger-sized grooves clearly visible. He had done that; he didn't need a voice to tell him that. What was it about him that was so different? As far as he could remember, no one was supposed to be able to do the things he was doing... right? So what was next? Was he going to start flying?

"Probably not."

'Then what? It would be nice to know beforehand...'

"I guess it would be alright to tell you, since technically you already have the ability to do it."

'If I'm already able to do these things, then why wasn't I doing them in the first place?'

"There are actually two answers to that. The first one lies with the knife you were stabbed with. The second is simply that you did not remember that you were able to do them. All it took was finding the trigger for each thing."

'What else am I able to do?'

"You have X-ray vision."

'Great, I'm sure most hospitals would love to have me around, it would definitely cut down on the cost of equipment use,' Clark thought sarcastically

"If I am remembering correctly, your sight is a bit more useful than that."

'And what exactly do you mean by that?'

"Let's try this: I want you to describe to me, in detail, the person in the next room."

'And how, may I ask, do you expect me to do that?'

"Just focus," the voice instructed simply, leaving Clark to his own devices.

Clark frowned as he stared at the wall in front of him. Looking through a wall; that wouldn't be too hard, would it? Clark could practically hear the psychologist now, asking him how long he'd been hearing these voices inside his head and where he kept his flamethrower hidden. He winced as his head began to throb in what seemed to be a bad headache. When he realized what he was seeing in front of him, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. There was an old man sitting up in the bed in the next room over. He had silvery white hair and gentle green eyes. There was an oxygen mask in place over the man's mouth and nose. But he didn't seem to notice as he retrieved the television remote from the table by his bed to change the channel. The old man leaned further back into the pillow and adjusted his spectacles so that they were resting on the end of his nose.

"Good job. Now you just might wand to stop staring; I think that the nurse may be getting worried."

'What?'

"Clark? Clark are you alright?" Alex asked, setting the tray she held on the table.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, I was just thinking."

"Don't think to hard, Clark; we wouldn't want you to have a seizure," she smiled teasingly.

"And what makes you say something like that?" he asked, a tone of mock offense in his voice.

"You looked like you were trying to stare a hole through that wall. I don't think Mr. Van Taren would have appreciated that very much." Clark's only response was to laugh nervously. "Well her, I brought you some of the hospital's finest food – scrambled eggs, pancakes, orange juice, and of course – jell-o."

"Thanks Alex."

"No problem..."

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That's it for chapter four. I hope this chapter answered a few questions that some of you guys had. I would like to apologize now for getting this out so late – I was overburdened with an insane amount of schoolwork and never had the chance before now to get this chapter up. And, as a special treat, since I don't have any classes this coming week, I plan to have the next two chapters up by Wednesday at the latest. That's all for now!

Don't forget to review!!