Clark didn't need much sleep because the sun provided him with most of his energy. Still, he enjoyed sleeping in from time to time, especially with Lois in his arms. He'd been looking forward to that aspect of the vacation.
However, Sam, at this very minute, was walking through the camp, calling out, "Let's not waste all morning, people. It's an invigorating day for a hike!" He was only missing a bugle.
"Someone needs to set that man down and explain to him how retirement is supposed to work," Lois mumbled into into the pillow. "We're not his troop."
He chuckled. "I guess you just have to accept the fact that your dad is the kind of person that needs even retirement to feel productive. And he is right about one thing, a hike in the early morning hours will feel much more pleasant than it will at midday, and there ought to be plenty more wildlife to see as well."
"Clark nobody likes a Pollyanna at," here she paused to look at her phone, "at 5:30 in the morning. Sheesh, what was he thinking?" She burrowed deeper into the sleeping bag.
"I'll bring you some coffee."
She mumbled something that even with his superhearing, he couldn't manage to decipher, but he assumed it was an agreement.
Sam was plotting the path they would take on his map, and John Henry was helping by ensuring the kids had all the hiking essentials from protein bars to first aid items in their bags. They were working together effortlessly like they'd been friends for years. It was dumb of him to be jealous. They bonded so quickly because of their shared military backgrounds and because they'd recently worked together.
Still, he and Sam had worked together for years, and he'd helped give him two grandsons, and they were nowhere near that level of camaraderie. Was John Henry the son-in-law that Sam had always wanted? Well, of course, he was. He knew that. It just hurt to see it displayed like this.
"Anything I can do?" Clark offered.
"No, we have it covered," Sam said.
"By the way, that stew last night was awesome," John Henry added.
"Thanks," he said with a forced smile.
He got the water boiling for the coffee to which Sam gave a condescending nod of approval. Was he relegated from son-in-law to the camp cook? It felt that way.
sss
Clark tried just enjoying the hike without thinking too much more on the subject. He truly enjoyed watching his sons start to get into it, pointing out lizards or other spotted wildlife to the other. He should have made more of an effort to take them camping when they were younger, especially as they said the outdoors could actually combat depression and anxiety. It might have done Jordan a world of good.
He was so concentrated on his sons that he was as surprised as everyone else when the group stopped for a water break to find out Natalie was no longer among their number.
"She shouldn't be wandering off. I don't think there's anything more dangerous than bobcats, but groups keep wild animals at bay," Sam groused.
"You all go on ahead," John Henry said. "I'll find her, and we'll meet up at the top."
"Or I'll go," he volunteered. "I can find her the quickest."
He hesitated, and Clark added, "You'd be doing me a favor as I've been looking for a chance to make things less strained between us."
John Henry gave his agreement, and he found her sitting on a log with her head in her hands, but she did look up to see who was coming.
It hurt whenever he locked eyes with Natalie like synthetic kryptonite gas was squeezing his lungs again. It wasn't the way she looked at him as if he were an intruder. It wasn't that another version of his wife had a child with another man, at least not directly. It was the fact that Lois would have been able to carry Natalie to full term if he was taken out of the equation.
He and Lois had been told when they'd lost Natalie that the leading cause of miscarriages was genetic issues. It was meant to comfort, to let them know it wasn't their fault and merely a throw of the dice in the cosmic genetic shuffle. In fact, it did the opposite for him and made him blame himself. And now here was living proof that he was the reason their baby girl had never seen the light of day, his Kryptonian genes had been a death sentence.
"Hey, everyone's worried about you," he said softly.
She shrugged. "I can take of myself."
"You don't have to tell me that. I saw the ship you built, but is it fair to make them worry?" he asked with what he hoped was an amiable smile; he was afraid his emotions may have been coloring it.
He saw Lois' grief at seeing Natalie and his own guilt always compounded. He couldn't talk to Lois about what he was feeling. She had enough on her plate right now. He knew he'd made her life considerably more complicated by marrying her. Sam had pleaded with him before the wedding that if he truly loved Lois, he wouldn't marry her, and he'd responded that he greatly underestimated her strength. He'd had no idea that being his wife would entail this kind of loss. If he had, maybe he could have let her go.
Then she might have found her way to someone like John Henry. They'd had a very loving relationship and a beautiful daughter. Until what? Until his counterpart had come along and taken her life. It didn't matter that it turned out it was really Zod who'd murdered her; he bore some of the blame for having given up the fight for control of his body. It seemed he was destined to keep her from a totally happy ending one way or the other.
"I guess not," she said, standing up. "Lead the way."
"I get that all this is a lot to process. I just want you to know that I've been told I'm a very good listener if you ever want to talk."
"Thanks, you're alright, Mr. Kent."
He was Mr. Kent, but the name felt cold to him, coming from a girl that he wanted to embrace in a fatherly hug. Yet, he wasn't supposed to have feelings about her arrival. He was no relation to this Natalie even interdimensionally, therefore, he was the one who was supposed to be the least affected, but his heart broke whenever he looked at Natalie because like Lois he also saw a daughter lost.