Chapter 10:
Life was especially hard for Martha Kent after her son's disappearance. It was an ordinary Saturday when it happened. She was in the kitchen, preparing for dinner when her son came inside, dirt smeared from head to toe. Wiping his brow, he headed towards the faucet for a fresh glass of water. "Clark Kent," she scolded as she eyed him from the stove. "You better take those shoes off," she warned, smelling the mud from across the room.
Immediately kicking them off, he said, "Sorry, Mom." He hung his head, even though there was a glimmer of a smile.
Smiling in return, she joked, "That's okay. I forgive you." Watching her son head towards the faucet again, she said, "I just made fresh lemonade if you want some."
"Are you giving June Cleaver a run for her money again?" he replied as a smile lit up his face. It was a new inside joke between the two of how Martha couldn't help but constantly care for her family, much like the unrealistic fifties housewife.
Already pouring him a glass, she defended, "I just can't help it. Mother's instinct."
"Is it okay if I head over to the Talon for a bit?" he randomly asked, even though it was obviously on his mind for a while.
"You just have to be home by six, okay? I'm making my infamous pot roast."
After gulping down the glass, he messily wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Not a minute later," he said before he bolted out the door. Rolling her eyes, Martha had no idea it was the last time she would see her son.
Now lying in her bed, Martha blinked back a few tears that were begging to fall. She lost count how many times she replayed the scene in her head, seeing if there was something...anything she could change. Something that would make her son stay home that day, instead of leaving their lives forever. It was days like this one that made her not even want to get out of bed. Turning over on her side, she glanced at the clock. It was only a little after six, yet Jonathan was already up, burying himself with farm work again. Lex even sent help over a couple days a week, knowing Jonathan couldn't run the farm on his own, but still every waking hour he was in the barn, finding another pointless task to complete. Sighing, she buried her head in her pillow, praying for one more minute of a dreamless sleep, before she had to get up and face the day.
Suddenly, her name snapped her out of her reverie. "Martha!" Blinking her eyes against the morning sun, she slowly sat up, moaning slightly as she ran her hand through her tangled hair. "Martha!" Jonathan called again. This time the urgency in his voice finally registered in her tired mind.
Adrenaline now pumping through her veins, Martha jumped out of bed, and bolted towards the stairs. "Jonathan, what's wrong?" she called back, her voice cracking with concern. Not waiting for an answer, she jogged down the steps, only to be stopped by her husband at the last step. "What is it?" she asked, her eyes frantically looking for an answer. For a split second she thought of Clark...is he okay? She instantly shook the thought out of her mind, her heart breaking a bit more. He was gone. She knew that.
Her husband put a trembling hand on her shoulder, his blue eyes already blinking back tears. "What happened?" she breathed, preparing herself for the worse.
"Martha, you have to listen to me," he said softly, his voice raspy for some unknown reason. Martha could only nod, her breath still with worry. "Someone came by the house today. She brought a boy with her. He has no memory of anything beyond the past several months," he said slowly, knowing otherwise Martha would jump at the chance to see Clark, just like he did. After pausing for a moment to contain all the emotions welling up inside up him, he breathed, "Its Clark."
Her heart momentarily stopped, and Martha's eyes instantly left her husbands, scanning the house for Clark. She placed a shaky hand over her mouth when she saw him on the couch in the living room with his back towards her. All of her husband's warnings left her mind as she dashed towards him, tears already pouring out of her eyes. Rounding the couch, she almost crashed into the invisible doctor as she reached for her son.
"Clark..." Martha whispered, her voice cracking with pure happiness. She was only inches away from enveloping him in her arms when a hand stopped her. She followed the arm up to a woman's face. Martha's face wrinkled in bewilderment, wondering why this stranger would prevent her from touching her son.
"Mrs. Kent, I'm Dr. Harris, the woman who brought Clark here," Cassie meekly introduced, as if apologizing to the distraught mother. "I know this may be hard for you, but Clark is slightly...unstable. I'm afraid another breakdown may be detrimental to his health," she explained, remember how long it took to calm Clark down after his encounter with Mr. Kent.
Martha instantly looked towards Clark, for the first time noticing his weakened state. He sat perfectly still next to the woman, clutching a dirty sheet as if his life depended on it. His head was bent forward, his long, straggly hair covering his face. The only noise that filled the room was his shaky, uneven breaths. Martha immediately sank to her knees, not believing the sight before her.
"He's been through a lot the past year," the doctor softly stated.
Martha glanced up at Jonathan, who was now standing beside her, silently asking if it was true. His eyes never leaving her face, he simply nodded, as if sensing her question.
Breaking through the awkward silence, Dr. Harris calmly stated, "Mr. and Mrs. Kent, I would like to talk to you about your son's condition."
To Be Continued...
oOo
Chapter 11:
Looking up from her hands, Dr. Harris glanced across the table at the two anxious parents. Sighing, she took a moment to gather her thoughts, before continuing with the hardest part of her job. She slightly detached herself from her words, but only enough to not get overly emotional. "Over the past year, Clark has been trapped in a science research facility where they performed monstrous experiments on them," she calmly said. She never once looked at the Kent's eyes, knowing if she did she wouldn't able to finish. Instead she opted for looking at the space in between their eyebrows, that way it gives the illusion she was looking directly at them, without her having to do so. "I was called in a week ago to psychoanalyze him, so they could tap into his 'inner realm of intelligence'. But once I saw the dehumanization he went through on a daily basis, I knew I had to do something."
Martha immediately glanced towards her sleeping boy on the couch. Looking back, she whispered, "Thank you," tears silently streaming down her face.
Thrown off guard by the woman's words, Dr. Harris looked directly at her, immediately looking away afterwards. There was so much relief in the mother's eyes; she didn't want to burden her with anything else. Slowly taking off her thin-rimmed glasses, she knew she was about the face the biggest challenge of her life. In order to do so, she couldn't continue with the professional façade anymore. "Before I leave, there's several things I want to tell you. Hopefully, this will make the transformation easier for the both of you."
Placing her elbows on the table, Cassie continued, her voice breaking with every word, "From what I can tell, Clark's has completely lost his identity. At the...laboratory, he didn't have a name, mostly referred to as 'it' and 'the alien'. Because of this, he doesn't respond to the name 'Clark', but there is still some recognition in his eyes, which is a very good sign. I advise to call him 'Clark' at any chance you get. Re-teach him. He may even start answering by the end of the month."
Before continuing with her next point, She paused a moment for the parents to briefly think over her words. "Unfortunately, loss of identity doesn't just mean loss of a name. After constantly being called 'it', he feels like he is a second-class citizen. You may notice he'll call you 'ma'am and sir'. Stop this immediately. Calmly tell him that he can call you 'mom and dad'. Since he has a desire to follow 'his superior's' orders, he'll probably start doing it immediately, but it will take a while for the titles to sink in. Another side-effect is that he will constantly apologize, even for things he didn't do. Once again, stop this as soon as possible, but at the same time never raise your voice or sound too stern, it will just terrify him more."
Finding her inner source of strength, she plowed onward, "As you have probably noticed, he is suffering from significant memory loss. He doesn't remember ever living here, but a very promising sign is that he has dreamt about it, therefore the memory hasn't been completely lost. This will make your job a thousand times easier, since he already looks at this house as his sanctuary. The part that worries me is that he may not believe that it's...real. He seems to constantly question what's in front of him, which leads me to believe that he may be suffering from slight schizophrenia. Unfortunately, he also seems to be suffering from short term memory loss. Shockingly, this will be harder to 'fix' than his long term memory. There have been instances where he forgets where he is or what he's doing. Since he is afraid to directly ask questions, it's important for you to ask them. Randomly ask as calmly as possible, 'Where are you?' But stray away from yes-or-no questions, since if he has forgotten he will be petrified of what will happen if he says 'no'."
Biting her bottom lip, Cassie glanced towards Clark for a second, trying to remember another point. Seeing the filthy sheet still wrapped around him, she warned, "No matter how much you may want to, don't throw away that blanket. You definitely want to wash it, but do it while he's asleep. There has been some regression in his mind. He treats the sheet much like a toddler would treat his security blanket. It may sound odd, but he realizes when he has the sheet, he's safe, no one is hurting him. For now, my advice to you is to let him have the sheet around him as much as he wants to. This may give him a much needed feeling of control."
She hesitated, giving the parents a chance to let everything sink in. "There's one more thing," she said, her grave tone warning the Kents about the words to come. "Even though Clark is petrified of the human touch, it is crucial that when you communicate with him you initialize some type of contact. This is because he no longer trusts his visual and auditory senses, probably due to the form of brainwashing they subjected him to when he first arrived."
Martha's head immediately shot upward. "B-Brainwashing?" she stuttered at first but finished strong.
Thrown off by the silent mother's voice, Cassie looked up into Martha's eyes. Never breaking eye contact she replied, "Y-yes, it isn't plainly stated in the documents, but form Clark's behavior and some blank areas in the files, I-I can only put two and two together." Even though her face was set in determination, her voice constantly quivered as her emotions continually overruled her thoughts. She silently watched as Jonathan placed his hand Martha's shoulder, trying to console her. "Under times of stress, he seems to close himself from reality, immediately terrified of everything. Sometimes I won't even say anything, and he'll flinch. This leads me to believe he may be hearing things...voices from his past and may have occasional hallucinations. As a result, he no longer trusts his auditory and visual sense, as stated earlier, which is why his kinesthetic sense is so important."
"I'm sorry, kines..." Jonathan interrupted, confused by her vocabulary.
"Kinesthetic," Cassie immediately repeated. "The sense of touch," she explained, trying her hardest not to sound degrading. "Until he becomes comfortable with his other senses, I would recommend having him touch everything: the walls, his bed, the barn. This was it will hopefully engrave in his mind that this is reality. I would also highly recommend you two to come up with your own sign for him to recognize. As you have probably realized, when I rubbed my thumb on his cheek he immediately calmed down. This is my sign for him, when I do it he knows I am there, whereas if he just sees or hears me, part of his mind questions whether or not I'm real. Whether it is just a pat on the head or a rub on the shoulder, within a couple of days he should be able to recognize it as your personal sign, and he will become more comfortable around you."
Glancing at the clock, Cassie immediately stood up from the table. "I'm sorry I have to go. If they notice I'm not at the facility they may start to question the relation between Clark's and mine disappearance." Seeing the worried looks from Jonathan and Martha, Cassie ensured, "Don't worry, the only reason why I'm going back is so then I can warn you if they plan to retrieve him. I'll call you by the end of the week."
"Of course..." Martha sighed, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off her chest.
Heading toward the living room, Cassie stated, "I'll just say goodbye to Clark first, and then I'll be on my way."
To Be Continued...
AN: Thank you for all the comments. I hope this chapter lived up to everyone's expectations.