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Lois only realizes that she must have dozed off on the couch when movement in the kitchen wakes her.
“Clark?” she calls. It sounds like someone's doing the washing up, and Lois highly doubts either of the boys would do so unprompted.
“Yeah?” her husband calls back, putting a smile on Lois's face. After he'd disappeared into another dimension for a month, Lois couldn't help but worry that Clark might be gone suddenly, that he'd be dragged back there by one of those strange alternate versions of people in their world. She's not sure how well she'd handle another long absence so short after the last.
Putting her notebook on the coffee table, Lois gets up, stretching as she walks over to the kitchen. Leaning on the door frame, she watches Clark standing at the sink. He briefly turns his head to smile at her before focusing back on the dishes in the sink.
“How'd it go with Lana?” It's been hours since he departed, Lois had started to worry until she'd seen Clark pop up on the news. A mudslide in central Europe, but that had been two hours ago too. Lois has a feeling things didn't go perfect with Lana.
Clark shrugs. “Could have gone worse. We'll have to wait and see how she feels about it long term. She might be mad at me for a while.” Clark doesn't look at her, but Lois can hear the frown on his face. Lana was one of his closest childhood friends and he still got along with her great now. It would be a shame for him to lose that connection.
“And everything else?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary. A natural disaster. Felt wrong to just leave when things settled, so I helped out where I could.” He places a clean plate to the side to dry, turning back to smile at Lois again. She's missed him so much, just seeing him back in their kitchen is making her chest ache.
Lois swiftly strides across the kitchen and wraps her arms around Clark. Burying her face in his back, Lois sighs. Clark doesn't feel as warm as he does usually, not like when he's just been recharging in the sun, but it is dark out and he'd just spent hours helping out in rainy conditions. It makes sense for him to feel a little cooler than is normal for him.
His shirt smells of his cologne, faintly of sweat and a layer of something that fit in neither category, but Lois recognised as being something distinctly tied to Clark. That's something Lois had missed too. He feels so real in her arms like this, and she doesn't really want to ever let him go again.
“I missed you so much,” Lois whispers, knowing Clark can hear her. She can tell he's going to apologize again by the way he shifts and breathes in deeply. “Don't you dare. As long as you don't vanish again in the next few months, you're forgiven Clark.”
Laughing in response, Clark turns back to the dishes. Lois tightens her grip on Clark a little, getting as close as she physically can to him. That's when she hears it.
A wince, barely audible over the sound of their breathing, but still there. If Lois knew Clark any less well then she did, even she may have missed it. But she didn't, and Clark realizes too as soon as Lois lets go of him.
“What was that?” Lois asks, leaning forwards on the kitchen counter to look at Clark's face. He glances over at her sheepishly, uncomfortable smile on his face. Raising an eyebrow, Lois stares him down. He knows damn well he can't get the truth past her.
“The alternative version of Jonathan had green kryptonite,” Clark admits, fully turning to face her.
"Kryptonite?" Lois says a little too loud, lowering her voice quickly. As much as she hates being out of the loop, if Clark's life isn't in immediate danger, it's best not to needlessly worry the boys. "Clark, I thought we've moved past keeping things from each other years ago."
"I wasn't keeping anything from you, just needed to do more important stuff." There's that sincere look in Clark's eyes that Lois loved just as much as it drives her up the walls.
"Like doing the dishes?" Lois takes hold of Clark's wrist, depositing the plate in his hand back in the sink. He laughs quietly, letting Lois do as she pleases. "You're ridiculous, Clark, have I mentioned that before?"
Clark laughs again. "You may have, once or twice."
"The dishes can wait until tomorrow, your health can't." Lois only lets go of Clark's hand to fish their first aid kit out of the cupboard it had been stored in since Clark was a child. It hadn't seen much use when Clark was young, at least not for him, but Martha told Lois she made a point of keeping it well stocked after Clark started publicly using his abilities. They'd used it a couple times since moving to Smallville already.
"It's not that bad," Clark tries, placing a hand on Lois's shoulder.
"We've been over this hundreds of times Clark. I don't trust your definition of 'not bad' when it comes to yourself, so let me be the judge of that." Clark had certainly got better at admitting he needs help over the years, but he never seemed to be fully able to shake his need to diminish pain or difficulties he faces. Lois wasn't really perfect in asking for help when she needs it either, even if she'd improved too, but so far they've always figured something out.
Clark nods, taking Lois's hand when she offers it to him. When he was younger, he might have argued against needing help more, but that's something they both improved in.
Leaving the kitchen to be tidied in the morning, Lois leads them both upstairs to their bedroom. It sounds like the boys are still up, but since it isn't that late yet and they're not little kids any more, Lois lets it be their responsibility, when they go to sleep. It's been a very stressful day anyway, leaving them time to de-stress is likely best.
Lois drags Clark to the bed and pushes him onto it by his shoulders. He grins at her as he lets himself be manhandled. As she drops the first aid kit next to him, Clark takes advantage of her leaning down by kissing her cheek quickly. Just how strange it had felt without him around, waking up alone, without the warmth of Clark's body up against hers, all hits her once again. Unable to help it, Lois draws Clark into a full kiss, grabbing the hem of his flannel shirt with one hand, burying the other in his hair.
The kiss deepens quickly, Clark's breath hot on her face as he draws back a little to let Lois breath. He could go on forever, Lois sadly requires oxygen much more frequently than her husband does. Clark's breath hitches when Lois tightens the grip in his hair, responding by connecting his lips with hers again and pulling Lois on top of himself.
Lois is quickly reminded of why they came here in the first place when Clark breaks the kiss to groan and mumble a quiet “ow”.
Getting up and briefly readjusting her shirt, Lois pulls Clark back up into a sitting position. No matter how much she's missed him, Clark is injured and that should be the priority. “Get your shirt off,” Lois orders, laughing when Clark gives her a look at those words.
“Yes ma'am,” he responds with a grin. Lois lightly shoves him by the shoulder, shaking her head.
After opening the first aid kid and briefly checking over its contents, Lois watches her husband unbutton his flannel shirt. Just because she needs to keep her mind on the task at hand, doesn't mean she can't enjoy the look of Clark getting undressed.
Those thoughts quickly evaporate as well when Lois catches a glimpse of the state of Clark's chest. Dozens of puncture wounds are scattered across the skin, surrounded by blistered skin that fades to a lighter burn, more akin to a sunburn on humans, the more distance it has from the impact site. A particularly large wound sits at the centre of Clark's chest.
“What the hell happened, Clark?” Lois asks, pulling his shirt the rest of the way off his shoulders to check for further damage. It's worse than Lois had expected, having anticipated a single wound or just burns from proximity to the green stone's radiation.
“Shards of kryptonite. Lana got them all out quickly, so there wasn't time for it to develop to a full poisoning.” Thankfully it hadn't escalated that far. Every time Clark's been badly exposed to kryptonite, he looked so unwell – barely alive really – after and Clark was left suffering for a long time. Lois couldn't stand seeing him like that, unable to really do anything.
Lois sighs. Even if this hadn't ended up in Clark being poisoned thanks to Lana, Clark has still spent most of the day hurt and hadn't done anything to alleviate that. Injuries from kryptonite take a lot longer for Clark's body to heal, even when exposed to sunlight. Lois doubts Clark took the time to rest in the sun, even with the increased heal time the wounds should look better than this. They're really not very good at dealing with their problems, are they?
Sitting down next to Clark, Lois gets him to sit facing her by placing a hand on his shoulder. Leaving the wounds as they are risks infection, even with Clark's kryptonian biology. The kryptonite cauterized the puncture wounds at least, though normally, Lois would still suggest gauze to cover them. Clark will try to argue against that, calling it a waste, but maybe Lois can convince him to let her cover the worst of the injuries. If she brings up that blood stains on his clothes or on the bed sheet would be hard to remove, he might accept easy enough.
There's little they can do for the pain Clark's in, his metabolism far too fast. Even when he's weakened by kryptonite or red sun radiation, his body breaks down drugs far faster than humans do, so pain killers don't help much. Burn cream helps a little with the radiation burns kryptonite leaves, but Lois wishes there's more they could do, more she could do.
Taking a pack of gauze pads out of the first aid kid, Lois soaks one in disinfectant. Carefully, she runs it across the largest puncture wound in Clark's chest. Her heart clenches when Clark inhales sharply.
“Sorry,” Lois says, bringing her free hand up to rest on the nape of Clark's neck, both as comfort and to steady him. Clark has always been remarkably good at holding still through pain, despite not having as much experience with it as other people do in day to day life, so Lois doubts that'll be an issue. Not that she could stop Clark if he wanted to move away, but Clark's never been one to use his strength advantage against her.
Clark smiles reassuringly. “Can I help?”
“Let me do this, please.” For a month, Clark's been gone, Lois having no way of knowing where he is and what state he's in. She was stuck constantly thinking the situation over, worrying, whilst being unable to do anything, all whilst she had to act like everything was okay. Lois has had just about enough of feeling useless, and at least here, she has some say in her husbands state. And as much as that isn't the point at the moment, Lois does enjoy just being close to Clark after being separated for so long.
Hours of doing anything but acknowledge the burns on his chest have lead to the blisters around the wounds to be rubbed raw. Those injuries had mostly partially scabbed over, though cleaning them made some of the injuries start to weep blood again. It's necessary to get the cuts clean, even if the sight makes Lois frown. With Clark's kryptonian invulnerability, seeing his blood is a rare sight. It's unsettling.
Every time that pained look flashes across Clark's face, Lois has the urge to drop what she's doing and hold him close until it leaves his face. Clark's shared his worry of protecting his family with her many times, the fear that he won't be there when they need him. But what about him? How can Lois ever hope to keep the love of her life safe from the dangers he faces? It's not just that she couldn't match the physical strength of his opponents, it's also the fact that Clark would never let her try and shield him from anything. He drives her so crazy sometimes.
When she's cleaned the last of the burns, Lois takes Clark's face between her hands and presses kisses to his cheeks, nose, lips until they're both grinning despite the situation. Clark leans into her hands, smiling softly. Lois can only get herself to let go through years of practice with shifting into a state of extreme focus despite distraction. And Clark really is extremely distracting, especially if he's smiling.
Lois can see the way Clark clenches his jaw as she spreads the burn cream over his skin, only pausing to wipe away stray rivulets of blood. She makes sure to get every burn, even the ones that only reddened his skin. His night will be uncomfortable enough as is, Lois wants to take as much of Clark's pain as she can.
Again, Clark holds still the entire time, staying remarkably quiet too despite not being asked to. That earns him another quick kiss when Lois sets the tube of cream aside. “You're doing so well,” Lois tells him, delighted by the way Clark's face reddens at the praise. She allows herself to feel a little smug about how well she knows her husband.
“Least I can do when you're helping me,” Clark mumbles as he tries to stand up. Lois stops him by putting a hand on his shoulder again.
“We're not leaving these open, Clark. You're letting me bandage you.” Her tone is final, but Clark can be stubborn so, as expected, he starts to argue.
“You don't have to, I'll heal in the morning. It would just be a waste.” Clark's brows furrow as he looks at her, expression serious. Lois responds by covering his mouth with her hand.
“I know I don't have to, I want to. And if you're really not concerned about sleeping with open blisters and puncture wounds, I'd like to remind you how hard blood is to wash out of things.”
Clark pulls a face. They've spent their fair share of time scrubbing blood out of clothes and bedsheets, so he's well aware of the work involved in that. He sighs.
“You're right,” he admits.
“I often am,” Lois quips, squeezing Clark's hand courtly before grabbing a gauze pad.
Clark's heightened senses include his sense of touch, so Lois knows to tape the gauze down with simultaneously as little of the tape touching his skin as possible, but also allowing the gauze no room to move and irritate his skin. Lois has had plenty of opportunity to practice this skill over the years, a few too many times for her liking. Technically, Clark could always go to the DOD with injuries now, but Lois isn't really a fan of having him do so unless it's necessary. They can't do more for his pain than Lois can, and the whole thing always seems too much like an experiment for Lois's liking. There's always someone taking notes or too many people watching as Clark is treated. She gets the feeling that some of the scientists there would jump at the opportunity to cut Clark up. It makes her skin crawl.
After quickly tidying the first aid kit when she's done, Lois gets up and puts it aside. She pulls Clark's pyjama out from under his pillow and throws it at him. “Get this on, we both need sleep.”
“I haven't brushed my teeth yet,” he responds.
Lois can't help but smile. He's ridiculous. “Then do that too.”
When Clark seems to be managing fine with getting undressed further, Lois heads back downstairs to put the first aid kit away. By the time she's up again and ready to change into her own sleepwear, Clark is in the bathroom already.
Lois has already changed her trousers and is in the process of getting her shirt off when she feels eyes on her. Turning around, Lois finds Clark leaning on the door frame with an infatuated smile on his face.
“What?” Lois asks, having to laugh.
“You're beautiful,” he sighs. “I missed you.”
Lois shakes her head. “Clark, it was barely a day for you.”
“I always miss you when we're not together.”
After all these years of marriage, he still acts like a love struck puppy around her. Warmth spreads in Lois's chest, wondering how she'd gotten so lucky as to find a partner like him and end up building a life with him.
Hurrying to finish changing her clothes, Lois takes Clark's hand when she's done, dragging him towards the bed. When they're both under the blanket, Lois carefully pulls Clark closer until his head is resting on her chest. She holds him as tightly as she dares, not wanting to hurt him.
Clark sighs softly as Lois cards her fingers through his hair. His skin feels too cold and somewhat clammy, but not anything near what kryptonite poisoning causes. The burns will make Clark's night uncomfortable and sleep near impossible. He always tells her that he could go weeks without rest, but Lois knows it's not good for him. Especially when he's healing.
“I love you,” Lois says, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. More than you could likely ever imagine or believe, Lois thinks.
Running his hands over her back gently, Clark leans into Lois's touch. “Love you too,” he mumbles into her chest. If Lois knows her husband as well as she thinks she does, he's likely thinking something along the same lines as she is.