"Hello? Martha? Ah, I'm fine." Clark tried to make his voice sound a bit more cheerful, but he quickly frowned again.
"Video call? I'm afraid not, the signal here isn't very good…"
"Nothing much lately." Clark instinctively flopped back onto the bed, but because he stretched out too much, it tugged at the wound on his chest and he sucked in a sharp breath from the pain.
"Ah, no, it's nothing, just a bit of cramp." Clark said. "Yeah, I haven't been doing much farm work recently, so I'm a bit out of shape. How's Dad? I knew it. Tell him to stop putting so much oil on that old car…"
Clark kept talking as he lowered his head to look at his wound. It had been bandaged up nicely, but it still ached dully. He sat on the edge of the bed and let out a sigh, which Martha heard.
"No, it's really nothing, Mom." Clark said. "That part-time job I found earlier pays really well. I changed to a better place, with my own kitchen. Next time I come home, I'm definitely bringing some of your secret sauce so I can put some in when I make risotto myself."
"Okay, you go ahead." Clark gently kissed the phone. "Love you guys, good night."
After hanging up, Clark leaned against the wall and rested for quite a while. He had no idea when Nick Fury would figure out what exactly was inside the gun that shot him down. Whatever it was, it was vicious as hell, downright bastardly.
Clark had always thought of himself as a very tough person, but even he had to admit he was hurting so much he wanted to cry. That shot punched clean through him. The bullet had been taken out and it hadn't hit anything vital, but it was like he'd just had major surgery, and the wound was still in the healing phase.
And of course he couldn't stay in a Human race hospital. On the one hand, the anti-inflammatory and painkillers that worked on the Human race did nothing for him; on the other hand, the reflexes he had from the pain might injure the Doctors and nurses changing his dressings. So he discharged himself.
The meds provided by the Rebirth Alliance helped a bit, but only in the sense that he went from "hurts so much he can't move" down to "hurts so much he wants to cry." And no matter how much it hurt, he still had to take care of himself.
After resting a while, he forced himself to sit up, walked over to the fridge and opened the door, looking for something to eat. Thankfully, the Rebirth Alliance logistics were pretty good; his fridge was already stuffed full. He randomly grabbed a box of fried noodles, walked to the microwave and shoved it in.
When people are feeling vulnerable, they always want to hear their family's voices. While waiting for the food to heat up, Clark picked up the phone and called again: "Ah, Mom, I suddenly remembered, that oil drum in the tool shed—I filled it up with diesel. You need to remind Dad…"
A string of complaints from Martha came through the receiver, and Clark started laughing, but the movement was too big and pulled at his wound. This time he held it in and didn't let Martha notice anything was wrong. The microwave dinged, and he took the box of fried noodles out and set it on the table.
"My coworkers are all easy to get along with." Clark said. "Diana's older than me, she always looks out for me… No no no, she's not my girlfriend, I don't have a girlfriend. And there's Ron, he's this big guy with a really good temper, I like him a lot too…"
Clark ate his noodles while chatting with Martha, but suddenly his movements froze, because on the other end of the line Martha paused and then said, "You're feeling awful, aren't you? You were always like this when you were little—whenever you felt bad, you'd want us by your side."
Clark sat there dumbstruck for a long time. He didn't put down the fork; instead he kept shoving food into his mouth and mumbled, "Something did happen, but it's not a big deal. I just… it's nothing."
"Your dad and I are going to come see you," Martha suddenly said.
Clark's chewing stopped; half the noodles were still hanging out of his mouth, his cheeks puffed out, and only his throat kept swallowing. He knew Martha well—if she said that, it meant the bags were already packed and they were probably in the car ready to leave.
Which meant during their very first call, his mom had already heard something off, then grabbed his dad and got ready to rush over.
Clark completely lost control of his emotions, tears streaming down his cheeks. He picked up the fork again and kept stuffing noodles into his mouth, then said, "It'd be great if you came, too. Forward York City is really pretty. I helped out when they were rebuilding the city, and my name's on the charity memorial."
He hung up, and the noodles were finished as well. Clark sat at the table, covering his eyes with both hands as tears leaked out between his fingers. He sat there for quite a while before finally wiping his face with his sleeve, tossing everything on the table into the trash, and going back to lie down on the bed.
That night, Clark tossed and turned, dreaming all sorts of tangled dreams. When he woke up, he felt his body a little lighter; Kryptonians' recovery ability really was too strong.
Half-awake, Clark picked up a call—Diana on the other end said, "You remember you have to get up early to change your dressing, right? Get over here."
Clark rubbed his eyes and sat up, grabbed some clothes and pulled them on. Just as he was about to head out, he remembered he still needed to wash his face and brush his teeth, went back to the bathroom to tidy up, then flew to the Recovery Alliance Headquarters.
He had barely landed when he saw a group of Mutants, and Clark instantly tensed up. These people weren't members of the Rebirth Alliance, nor under its jurisdiction, but every single one of them was extremely dangerous. There were plenty he wasn't sure he could handle—especially that one called Magneto; just seeing him gave Clark a headache.
They didn't actually have a conflict; it was just that Magneto's dangerous aura was too strong, and Clark's instincts were too sharp, so he always tried to avoid running into that crowd.
He pretended not to see them and hurried inside. Magneto's gaze only lingered on him for a split second, mainly stopping on his chest for a moment, then swept past like a gust of wind.
Back in the medical room again, Clark sighed. Changing the dressing this time was bound to be another ordeal. Diana unwrapped his bandages, then said with a bit of surprise, "You're healing fast. How do you feel?"
"This morning it did feel like it hurt less," Clark said. "But maybe that's just in my head. My mom and dad are coming to see me."
"Really?" Diana said happily. "Where are they coming from? Kansas State?"
"Yeah. They'll go to the airport first, probably have to transfer, because that's cheaper, then land at the new airport." Clark started picturing it. "I'll go pick them up, then take them to the pier restaurant for dinner. The beach is still too hot during the day, so I'm planning to bring them to the museum first, then we'll walk on the beach at night…"
"Nice, you can also take them to eat seafood," Diana said as she changed his dressing. "If I can, I'd like to meet them too, but things are a little busy over at the church…"
"Oh, right, can they go to the church?" Clark asked. "They're both Believers, and they've never seen such a big church. They might want to attend service."
"Well…" Diana looked a bit troubled. She said, "That's not something I can decide. I'll ask for you. But even if they can't get in during the rehearsal, they can come in for the wedding itself."
Clark shook his head. "No, they've got winter barley to plant now. They can't stay here that long, so they probably won't be able to make it to the wedding."
"That's a real shame. A traditional Catholicism wedding is very solemn."
"They had a Catholicism wedding too back then," Clark said. "But it wasn't that grand, just held at a small church in Smallville. I've even seen their wedding photos."
Diana laughed, looking at Clark the way you look at a kid. To distract him so he wouldn't move around, she asked, "Do you have a girlfriend? What kind of wedding do you want in the future?"
"I don't have one yet." Clark said, a little shy. "It's too early to be thinking about a wedding, but I'd like to hold it on my family farm. I don't know if she'd be willing to go back there with me."
"Of course, unless you marry into a wealthy family, there's no way you're getting your wedding held at Forward York Cathedral. I asked Carter privately—the cost of this wedding is insane."
"Marry into a wealthy family?" Clark was amused by her phrasing. "Those three rich families are already scrambling to put out their own fires."
"The joint business contract has already been signed," Diana said. "Yesterday, at the Wayne building. But I heard Bruce Wayne didn't show up; Thomas signed it. Money won't be a problem."
"Have you met the bride and groom?" Clark asked.
"I've only met Dick, but from another cosmos," Diana thought for a moment and said. "Carter said they're trying on the wedding dress today. If I head over later I should be able to meet Starfire… All right, you're all done."
Clark lowered his head to look. It had actually still hurt quite a bit just now; he'd only been distracted by talking. Seeing the neatly wrapped bandages, he looked at Diana and said very sincerely, "My mom and dad are definitely going to be really grateful for how you've taken care of me. Can we treat you to a meal?"
"Of course." Diana nodded. "Once you've picked the place, just tell me. I promise I'll be on time."
Clark watched her walk away with a smile, but his smile quickly faded, because that bastard of a boss texted him again, telling him to go tail Bruce Wayne and see if he could dig up evidence that the guy's some psycho serial killer.
Clark actually felt he didn't really click with Spider Man. The guy's personality was a bit closed-off, never straightforward about what he was thinking or feeling, and Clark couldn't read him. Things between them had always stayed lukewarm.
Still, he didn't buy that Bruce Wayne was some psycho killer either. It's just these journalism majors who are desperate to land a huge scoop, so they stalk people and rip open their privacy. If they don't get anything in the next few days, they'll start making stuff up.
Reluctant as he was, he still had to go to work. Clark went home to grab his camera gear, planning to wander around near the Wayne building a couple times. He wasn't really planning on shooting anything, just to show he was reporting on time and fool his boss.
But timing really is everything—just as he got near the Wayne building, he saw Bruce and a woman grappling with each other.
Clark raised his camera and focused, confirming that it was indeed this cosmos's Bruce Wayne. And when his lens settled on the woman, Clark's eyes widened in shock.