The red and white lights of the ambulance flashed as the sirens created the parting of cars in the central street of Metropolis. The body that had been recovered was broken beyond anything the EMTs had ever seen before.
"Looks like the guy fell from the top of the damn building. I don't know how he's still alive," said the first EMT to another, after he had intubated the disfigured male victim.
"I hope they catch the guy who did this. The poor guy deserves at least that... but... I don't think he's gonna make it..."
Two days later, John Doe still lay in a hospital bed, attached to a heart monitor. He had been de-intubated, but the beep-beep of the monitor was still the only sound heard in the room. No one had come to visit, no family or friends seemed to miss him, no one seemed to care that he lay in there - alone, and barely breathing.
He had arrived with nearly every bone in his body shattered. He would never walk again - that much the doctors could promise. He had a laceration across his chest that seemed to have been infected before he even reached the hospital, and the stab wound in his side had pierced a number of vital organs. But beyond all of these other wounds, the poison running through his system worried the doctors the most.
They had never seen such a compound. It was a mineral that had seeped into his blood, causing his immune system to nearly fail. His white blood cell count was low, his clotting factor worse, and the prospect of infection was increasing quickly. There was little they could think to do.
They studied the poison, but could no identify it. It wasn't like the other meteor rocks they had worked with - it did not seem to affect most human cells. The petri dishes they had placed its particles into were fine - the substance seemed truly benign. Except for the John Doe on the table.
It was simple. The man was dying. And there was no one even there to see him go.
She cried herself to sleep most nights. After the lights were out, and her facade of strength and serene understanding could be removed, Chloe wept. She missed them - her men. She missed Ollie's handsome face and the way in which their relationship had been growing. She missed the last words he said to her - his "I love you" should have caused the heavens to lift her up, but instead increased her awareness of the panic and pain he was experiencing. She missed Clark. Her best friend since she could remember - her buddy, the love of her life for so many years. She at least had hopes of seeing Oliver again, but Clark - he was gone forever.
Lois was a mess. She was alone. She had lost, in one fail swoop, the love of her life, her best friend, and the only person who gave her a sense of purpose to her existence. There would be no more candlelit dinners or coffee runs in the middle of the day. No more Smallville to torture and tease. There would be no more calls to the telephone booth on the corner or missions to accomplish. There was no one to save her anymore.
The Blur was gone. But more importantly, so was Clark Kent.