-1Title: Fait Accompli - Chapter Three: Nightmares
Author: brdwaybebe
Spoilers: SII and then it goes AU
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,885 words
Notes:I have been learning a LOT research-wise and it really brings a whole new angle to the story when you have all this information flying around in your head. But I also have new appreciation for all the people who write who do WAY more research than I ever could lol.

Many thanks again to the wonderful Saavikam!! I strive to make her proud with the upcoming science in this story. I think my tenses are improving!(?) *grins* Also thanks to Shad who got the sneak peek at this week's chapter. His insights were more helpful than he knows! Thank you for being so fantastic hon.

Same deal this week, the most helpful review will get a first look at the new chapter. I have really come to love this particular facet as not only do I get to say thank you, but I'm getting to know the people who are reading which has been such a sweet blessing.

Okay! Chapter time!

Fait Accompli:"An accomplished fact; an action which is completed before those affected by it are in a position to query or reverse it."

Fait Accompli – Chapter 3

*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*

“No!!!”

Lois’ hoarse cry pierced the air as she was ripped awake by the force of her fright. The scream of a malfunctioning engine still echoed in her ears. Her eyes darted around the room. A veil of white gossamer, a huddled form inside, the tortured face of her beloved, all filled her vision. She raised her hands to reach out for him, only to find herself hindered by a restraint comprised of plastic tubing.

“Lois?” a familiar voice came gently.

The horrific scene before her faded, giving way at the insistence of the present. She blinked once, twice. The room around her slowly began to come into focus. An IV tube was connected to her right hand, the thin strip of clear tape pinched painfully at the tender skin of the back of her hand. She rubbed the skin distractedly. Her bleary eyes rose to take in the bed on which she sat. A warm, albeit scratchy, set of sheets was tucked with great care around her petite frame. Lois lifted her head still further to see Emil Hamilton standing at the foot of the bed. As her bloodshot hazel eyes met with concerned green, the memories of the nightmare flooded back to the forefront. Her face contorted in agony and a violent sob burned her chest with its force.

Emil’s lanky frame made his way swiftly around the side of the bed. He hesitated momentarily before wrapping his wiry arms around her shoulders. Her fingers gathered into fists, filling her hands with the starchy material and marring the pristine surface of his lab coat. He rocked her gently, bearing the storm of her tears as she wailed in torment into the flatness of his chest.

“I love you. I’m sorry. “

Clark’s sorrowful voice resonated over every fiber of her being. The defeat in his tone stabbed through her, restricting her ability to breathe. Despite all evidence to the contrary, the scene she’d just experienced felt more real to her than the comforting hand at her back or the rhythmic beeping of the monitoring equipment.

“Clark!” Her heart cried out frantically, attempting to bridge not only time and space… but impossibility.

A series of short, high-pitched tones sounded, and Emil’s arms tightened around her.

“Lois. Lois! You need to calm down.” Emil’s voice was firm even in its gentleness. “Lois, your blood pressure is too high. We need to get it lowered. The baby…”

After a beat Lois raised her head. Baby… The reminder of the life she was sustaining called her forth from the tenebrous grip of her thoughts and back to reality. Slowly, deliberately, she concentrated on relaxing one finger at a time, releasing her grip on Emil’s coat.

“There you go…” Emil’s voice was soothing, his hand comforting and stable on her back despite its awkwardness. “Just keep breathing… Oh thank goodness.” He gestured to a person Lois couldn’t see. “Leo, bring it here please.”

There was a slight screeching sound that stirred the embers of horror in Lois’ mind. Flashes of amber and red filled her vision. But this time she forcefully pushed them away and accepted the small, plastic oxygen mask that Emil offered her.

“That’s right, Lois. Just breathe. Slowly.”

In. Out. Lois focused on drawing long slow breaths from the clear plastic. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to entertain the disturbing images that haunted her with such frightening clarity. Slowly, she leaned her weight away from Emil and settled back against the pillows. Within a few moments the flush had almost completely drained from her cheeks and Emil felt comfortable with her abandoning the oxygen.

The golden-complected man, that Dr. Hamilton had called Leo, stood in easygoing silence on the other side of the bed. He was of clearly of Asian descent and his appearance was youthful. Lois ascertained that he couldn’t have been much older than Jimmy. A dark shock of onyx hair fell across his forehead as he wrapped cool, gentle fingers around her wrist. He smiled softly at her before looking intently at his watch. He nodded slightly to Emil, signaling what Lois assumed was the all clear on her blood pressure. Leo patted her wrist reassuringly before gathering the oxygen tank and taking his leave.

Lois’ eyes followed him as he left. With the soft clicking that signified the closing of the door, her attention turned back to Emil. One dark eyebrow rose in question. This had been the first time in six months she hadn’t met with Dr. Hamilton alone.

“My son.” He said in reply to her unspoken query. Emil’s smile echoed that of the young man who had just left. “I met his mother in Korea during college. “He’s been helping me for a number of years now on some of my more sensitive cases.” He eyed her meaningfully. “Leo has a brilliant mind and I’ve found him to be a valuable asset. His intelligence is only rivaled by his discretion.”

Lois’ lip ticked up into a hesitant smile. “It sounds like the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” She pulled the scratchy comforter more snugly around her midsection. “Does he…”

Emil shook his head. “He does not.” The doctor rose from the bed and made his way to a filing cabinet in the corner. With another series of secretive keystrokes and print analysis, he opened it to pluck a thin manila folder from the second drawer. “This secret is not mine to tell.”

She exhaled softly.

With a quick series of clicks, Dr. Hamilton put a pen to the file he had opened. His eyes scanned over the information, his lips pursed into a stoic line. He glanced at Lois out of the side of his eye.

Lois laid a hand over her midsection, “So, what happened, Emil?” she asked quietly, her thoughts turning back to the event that had landed her in the bed.

The doctor hesitated. Lois knew that look. Emil had not quite gotten over his discomfort with giving less than stellar news to the scary pregnant lady. He was used to dealing with chemicals and proteins, not tears and hormones, and from the way he was tapping that pen on the clipboard, she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

“Out with it, Emil,” Lois said, her voice testy in an attempt to mask the apprehension swirling in her stomach.

Dr. Hamilton closed his chart and fixed his gaze on her. “Lois, am I right to assume you have been taking all of the vitamin supplements I have suggested for you, regularly and without fail?”

She lifted her head in ascent. “Of course.”

Emil nodded in reply. “I thought as much.”

Lois bit her lip. “Is something wrong? With me? The baby?”

“Well,” He began. “Looking at your blood work there seems to be a number of deficiencies despite the supplements. Specifically your potassium and iron were low which I believe may be an answer to the cramping and pain you’ve been experiencing, as well as the fainting spells.”

Lois laughed weakly. “I thought he was supposed to be the Man of Steel.” Emil blinked at her. “Okay, I’ll just start taking more vitamins and I’ll be good as new.”

“I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that, Lois. We’re still not sure how the baby will affect your body. If the child’s absorption rate declines, you could find yourself in danger of an overdose. And overdosing on vitamins and minerals can be just as dangerous as a deficiency.”

“All right,” Lois said, her impatience momentarily overwhelming her anxiety. “So what is the game plan here, doc?”

Emil offered her a tight-lipped smile. She knew very well he severely disliked the nickname.

“A normal pregnancy is taxing on the body, but given the extraordinary circumstances of the child’s parentage, it seems to require a greater amount of nourishment. The energy you spend on daily activities is better spent on seeing to the life of the baby,” Emil said, his tone suggesting he was hunkering down for a debate.

Lois looked at him a moment before speaking. “Are you saying I need to take it easy until the baby is born?”

“The easier the better.” He eyed her warily, unconvinced of her seemingly calm acceptance of the suggestion to take a step back from a life steeped in intrigue and action. “Lois, I recommend you to be on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy. As the baby grows in size, its demands on your body will increase. With an ample amount of nutrition and conservation of energy the child should be fairly normal.”

A bolt of panic shot through Lois at his choice of words. “What do you mean by ‘fairly’, Dr. Hamilton?” she asked, her fingers worrying at the blanket between her fingers.

Emil took off his glasses and pressed his fingers against the lids of his eyes. “Preliminary sonograms have shown the baby’s lungs to be underdeveloped.” At her frightened expression, he continued quickly, “This is not necessarily cause for alarm, there is quite a bit of time for them to develop more fully. Blood tests have shown a lower number of white blood cells, which could suggest a weak immune system. However, having little knowledge of the result of a mixture between human and Kryptonian genetics, perhaps it will not affect him as much as we think.”

Lois’ was rendered motionless as one word in particular clamored for her attention. “H…him?” Her features gathered momentarily as a wave of realization crashed over her. “I’m going to have a boy?”

Emil paused his medical monologue long enough to nod. He smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. You said you didn’t want to know,” he murmured.

Through a veil of tears, Lois’ eyes sparkled with joy. She shook her head and waved him off when words failed to find their way to her emotion-bound vocal chords.

Dr. Hamilton continued on about iron and potassium and an assortment of other vitamins Lois had never heard of. But his running commentary paled in comparison to the wonder flooding through her at the knowledge of her baby’s sex. A son. Oh, Clark…

“Lois?” Emil’s voice broke up the tormented pattern of her thoughts.

She lifted her eyes to him and offered a sorrowful smile. He was a man whose intelligence and personality were perhaps better suited to a laboratory than caring for patients. Despite that fact, these past several months, he had cared for her with a fierce diligence. Lois had found in Emil Hamilton a competent physician and a trustworthy friend.

He had also taken her relationship with Superman in incredible stride. No one would blame him for being curious, but he never pried. Ever the consummate professional, he never asked for more information than he needed. He seemed to understand the importance of her privacy after a long career keeping secrets of his own.

It was for these very reasons that Lois had felt comfortable opening up to him.

“Now, there is the matter of the night terrors…” he said gently.

Her thoughts returned to the images that had flashed with such horrific vibrancy before her mind’s eye. A ship, Clark inside, flashing lights, the screaming alarm…

Hold on, Clark. Don’t give up…I love you…

*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*

The pain was both all-consuming and insistent as it called him from oblivion with all the terrible persuasion of a siren. A low groan dragged itself from his lips. The unfamiliar sensation was fascinating. Aside from his blessedly brief encounters with kryptonite, pain had been almost entirely foreign to him. It also was incredibly efficient at alerting him that despite the violence of his landing…he was alive.

He drew in a shallow breath and winced as sparks of misery began at his chest and spread like fire over the battered expanse of his upper body. With greater caution, he began to take a mental inventory of his condition.

There was a gentle tickling sensation as something liquid slid over the surface of his hairline and onto his cheek. He cracked open one eye and found it hindered by a crimson film. Reflexively, he raised his hand to his face, grimacing slightly at the burning sensation that announced the nerves in his arm were alive and well.

Cautious fingers rubbed gently at his eyelids, coming away coated with the shimmering combination of sweat, grime, and blood. Ah, blood. I remember you. His wry chuckle twisted into another groan, the sound muffled by the proximity of his face to the dirt. Dirt?

He blinked a time or two in an attempt to clear his bleary vision. A large boulder came into focus a few feet in front of him. His cheek rested somewhat comfortably in a bed of loose gravel. He lifted his head and immediately regretted the decision as a sledgehammer of agony ripped through his skull. Holding his breath, he gingerly drew himself into a seated position. The change in altitude flooded him with dizziness and the rocks in front of him danced chaotically.

The stasis chamber lay on its side a foot or so away and largely intact. The cloth from his mother’s quilt lay sullied and torn, stretched out like a pleading hand on the grayish landscape. His ironic grimace revealed a row of bloodstained teeth. He imagined it would have been more helpful in cushioning him from impact, if it hadn't been catapulted from the ship.

Further exploration found the ship in pieces on the crest of a nearby hillside. The hull had struck a jutting protrusion of rock and had split apart. A long trail of torn up earth extended behind it in a charred veil of destruction. Tongues of fire had satisfied their appetite on the main console and were just beginning to die out, leaving only the scorched remains.

Awestruck, he curled one leg under himself and leaned his weight against a nearby rock face. With great difficulty he attempted to stand. Suddenly a litany of pain roared through his right leg, stealing his breath and returning him to the ground. After a moment of throbbing anguish, he shifted his position on the loose surface of the pebbles and brought his screaming leg into the light of the fire.

He was unprepared for the sight that greeted him. Across his thigh, the charcoal fabric of his flight suit was stained with a growing pool of blood. Below the knee his calf was twisted at a disturbing angle. I’m not going to make it if I don’t stop the bleeding, came the horrific realization. He extended his body as best he could toward the stasis chamber, his fingers frantically grappling to take hold of the quilt mere inches out of his reach. His punished body cried out in protest as desperation carried him the last few inches and his hand closed around the softness of the cloth. He allowed his weight to carry him backwards into a sitting position and the material dragged through the dust and debris until it rested in his lap.

He ran a trembling hand over the dimpled softness. Even now she watches over me. A tear fought its way through the grit on his skin and made a silken trail down his cheek. With a sigh of regret he searched for a loose stitch and pulled.

The simple act of tearing the cloth into strips was taxing. He resisted the urge to rest, knowing the next temptation would be to give up all together. His fingers fumbled clumsily at the task through a debilitating haze of numbness. A chill had taken root in his body at the loss of blood and continually sapped at his strength. His hands ached as he secured the knot at his thigh. The fabric held fast, its surface transitioning from the colors his mother had chosen so lovingly into a terrifying and sickening scarlet.

Exhausted, he leaned back against the rock. His breath escaped in a series of panicked gasps as the gravity of his situation unloaded its full weight upon him. He was alone and severely injured on a strange planet with no means to get back home. The night had fallen, leaving him blind with no idea of his surroundings or what lurked outside the meager border of fire light. Yawning shadows stretched imposingly all around him, accompanied by unfamiliar sounds that tormented his ears on every breath of wind.

And then, he heard it.

“Clark!”

The faint echo of Lois’ voice was like a warm blanket wrapping around his bruised frame.

“Hold on, Clark. Don’t give up...”

He ignored the impossibility of the circumstance and clung to the sound of her voice, savoring it. His eyes fell closed, a quivering smile playing along the lines of his face.

“I’ll try…” he whispered, his words slurring as his cheek rested against the cool surface of the rock.

“I love you…”

“Love you… too…” he sighed, as unconsciousness overshadowed him.