AN: Wrote this super quickly, and it turned out slightly longer than intended, but that's not surprising with me. Inspired by a tweet of Clark tending to Lois' wounds, I thought about what it would look like if the roles were reversed.
…
"Stop wincing."
"I didn't wince."
"I touched you and you flinched."
"Then that's not wincing."
Lois pressed the cotton swab onto the small gash on his forehead again, causing Clark to hiss in pain. "Same difference."
They were in the dining room of the Kent home, Clark sitting on a chair with Lois standing between his legs. An opened first-aid kit was set on the table next to a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
Lois reached behind her, swapping out the now used up cotton with a new one. She dabbed some of the antiseptic onto it before facing Clark again.
"Are you going to behave this time?"
"Are you going to press too hard?" Clark countered.
She pursed her lips, sweeping some of his dark hair that had fallen over the gash. "You know, I don't remember acting like such a baby whenever the situation was reversed," she mumbled.
"Just because I don't have my powers anymore, Lois, doesn't mean I can't hear you."
She suppressed a smile, "That's because you were meant to." Cupping his face in her hands, she gingerly pressed the cotton to his injury. "What the hell were you even thinking, Smallville?"
Her voice was softer now, brow furrowed in deep concern. Clark frowned, his hand reached up to place them on her hips, thumbs settling on her stomach. "Lois, I'm okay."
"It could have been worse."
"I only fell like four feet."
"'Only four feet' he says," Lois mocked before pressing slightly harder on his gash.
He winced, "If I remember correctly, one of us used to fall off entire buildings."
"That's because I had a nice burly superhero to catch me."
"And you were careless," he sassed.
She gaped at him, "I was dedicated."
"To giving me a heart attack?"
Lois rolled her eyes, "Don't be ridiculous, you were invincible," she poked his chest, "unlike now."
His hand settled over hers, lying over his blue plaid shirt that was covered in dirt.
"The railing in the barn needed fixing," Clark said in an even voice.
"Yeah, and think of where we'd be if you were any higher!" Her hazel eyes had clouded over, and she bit her lip to prevent any tears from cascading. She'd been going to bring him some water, the mid-summer Kansas heat was at its peak at noon, and she'd been worried when her husband had been out there for longer than she expected.
She'd barely entered the barn when she spotted him sprawled out on the dirt, and she managed a small jog to get to him, water bottle thrown to the side and forgotten. Nausea crept into her trachea when she saw the blood on his forehead. Granted, he'd been conscious, but that barely made her feel better.
He'd given her a weak smile, trying his best to pull himself up so she didn't have to- even though she still tried.
"I'm okay, Lo."
"You're hurt!"
"It's nothing."
Any attempts to wave her off were futile as she tried her best to drag him out of the barn, a string of curses and "I told you so's" leaving her lips.
"Hey," Clark tugged her closer until she managed to sit on his lap, her legs swaying on the side, "I'm fine."
Lois took a breath, mentally berating herself for her emotions getting the best of her, "So you keep saying."
"And I wouldn't say it if it weren't true," he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"You know," Lois began, tracing the patterns on his plaid shirt, "I always worried about you. Whenever you were gone for too long- worrying that you were stuck in some other dimension or some low-life got their grubby little hands on kryptonite and you were lying somewhere, hurt and alone." Her eyes met his, "But this is somehow worse."
"Lois," Clark was careful to tread lightly, "I know this is going to get some getting used to, but you need to stop worrying so much."
She rolled her eyes, "Pot, meet Kettle."
"It's not the same thing."
"Of course, it is."
"Lois, you're pregnant."
"And you don't have any powers, Clark."
They stared at each other for a while, eyes mirroring in challenge until Clark sighed. "I don't suppose you expect me to sit back and do nothing."
Lois scoffed, lifting herself off him, "Of course not. Just try not to off yourself before Lois Junior number two gets here."
Clark's lips twitched at her words. His eyes settled on her rounding stomach, at six months she was slightly bigger than she was with her first pregnancy- her words, not his. He settled his hands on the bump, his face inching closer. "Will you please tell your mommy to stop being such a worry wart?"
Lois tried not to smile when he placed a gentle kiss over her white blouse, her hands automatically settling on his shoulders. "Sweet talker."
"My charm does have an effect on all the Lane girls."
"Yeah, and speaking of," Lois reached over to the dining room table and picked up a box of Band-Aids.
"Lois-"
"Do you want your two-year-old daughter seeing her daddy's boo boo?"
He narrowed his eyes, "I hate it when you play dirty."
"Now," Lois takes one Band-Aid out of the box, ripping the paper wrapping, "I thought you liked that." Her smirk only grows when she places the Band-Aid over his forehead, and he fails his attempt to not flinch.
He took the box from her hand, "But Snoopy?" He all but squealed. "Why do I feel like this is payback?"
Lois shrugged, "Don't get yourself hurt and the Snoops won't have to make you feel better."
"You make me feel better." He flashed her his million-watt smile, and before Lois could rebuttal, a little voice interrupted them.
"Snoops?"
Twin heads turned as they spotted their daughter walking up to them. Her shoulder length auburn hair was messy, and she was clutching a stuffed white rabbit to her chest.
Clark smiled at the blue pajama set she had on, adorned with pastries to match the one her mother had.
"Your daddy needed some help from Snoopy."
Clark sent his wife a glare that soon softened when Ella reached him, asking him to pick her up. She stifled a yawn as her little hand reached up to lightly touch the gash that was now covered up by the cartoon Band-Aid. "Daddy got a boo boo?'
Clark sighed, his heart constricting at the small ounce of worry coming from his daughter. "Daddy's fine, honey."
Her little brows furrowed, seemingly unconvinced and Clark was overtaken by a strange sense of déjà-vu. Like mother, like daughter.
"Yeah, baby," Lois said, her hand running through her daughter's hair, "daddy just had a little accident, but mommy fixed him right up."
Ella's hazel eyes met her mother's, a look of realization dawning on her. "Like mommy help me?" She pushed up the sleeve of her pajama, showing off her right arm where an identical Snoopy Band-Aid was on her wrist.
Lois grinned, "Exactly, Ella bear. Now you can match." She looked up at Clark, watching as his eyes glimmered in a mixture of amusement and annoyance. Only he could muster up that combination of emotions.
"You know, I didn't hear you lecture Ella when she fell off the swings at the park the other day."
"That's because she was crying."
"So, I need to shed a tear for you to show more sympathy?"
"I thought you were fine, hot shot."
Ella's eyes traveled back and forth between her parents, bemused but not a stranger to their interactions.
"I-" Clark pursed his lips, knowing he lost that round. Again. He turned back toward his daughter. "Mommy's a little dramatic, don't you think?"
Ella could only tilt her head in confusion. She scrambled to sit up on his lap until she was face to face with him. She cupped his face in her tiny hands, her stuffed rabbit still tucked into her left arm. "Mommy kiss your boo boo?"
A slow smile crept onto his face, "No, actually, mommy didn't kiss my boo boo."
Lois rolled her eyes at the way his lips suddenly deepened into a frown. "Now who's being dramatic," she mumbled.
"Still can hear you," Clark retorted, eyes never leaving his daughter.
"Still the point, Mega Man."
"I make it better," came Ella's small voice before reaching up and kissing Clark on the forehead, right over the Band-Aid. She pulled back and gave her father a toothy grin, and Clark felt like his heart would explode in that moment.
"Oh, thank you honey." He hugged his daughter close, planting a kiss atop her head.
"Well, now you're just buttering him up." Lois attempted to joke but could feel her eyes welling up. Damn hormones.
Clark caught her gaze and sent her a warm smile. "Where's my kiss, Lois?"
She tried for a look of faux annoyance, but when their daughter looked up at her expectedly, she gave in. "You two should really start your own club." She cupped his face in her hands, her smirk mirroring his before she placed a kiss right over his covered gash.
"And what club would that be, Lo?" The arm that wasn't holding Ella settled on Lois' waist, holding her close to them.
"The 'giving Lois a damn heart attack every time you get hurt' club." Her lips landed on his then, for good measure.
Small giggles from their daughter made her step back, giving the two year old a tickle before her eyes settled back on Clark.
"No more Cirque du Soleil reenactments in the barn until this one pops out, got it, Smallville?" Lois pointed to her stomach for emphasis, earning an eye roll from him.
"Yeah, got it, Sma'vi'?"
Lois pressed her lips, stifling her laughter at their daughter's words. She was a mini me in the making, and she knew she had to be careful with anything she said around her.
"You heard her, Clark." She caught his wide stare as she began picking up the first aid supplies from the table, a chuckle finally escaping as she walked away.
"Bossy and dramatic," he fake-whispered to his daughter, "but we love her anyway."
"I heard that!"
Clark laughed as he gathered Ella in his arms, walking toward the kitchen where Lois was.
"You were meant to, Lois."
…
AN: As always, please let me know what you thought!
