Chapter Text
The blinds in Lois’s apartment were down and shut tight, casting the bedroom in a dark morning gloom. On the bed, Lois was buried under a mountain of blankets, shivering despite the summer heat outside. For the first time in months, she was ill with the flu. The bedroom door clicked open, and Clark stepped in, carrying a mug of tea, and had traded his work suit for a soft T-shirt and jeans. Lois peeked out from under the duvet, her eyes slightly red.
“Clark," she rasped. "What time is it? Why aren't you at work? Perry will have a fit if we're both missing."
Clark set the mug down on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the mattress. "Perry thinks I have come down with it too.”
Lois let out a weak laugh, which quickly turned into a cough. "You lied? The Boy Scout actually lied to his boss. I definitely have a fever."
"I prefer to think of it as being slightly truthful,” Clark said softly.
He reached out, brushing a lock of dark hair away from her face, and his expression changed into concern. She was burning up. Closing his eyes for a second, Clark consciously cooled his body down for her, drawing the ambient heat out of his skin until his hand felt as crisp and cool as a polished slab of marble on her forehead. Lois let out a long, ragged sigh.
“Wow," she muttered, her eyes closing. "Don't move."
"Hold on," Clark whispered, leaning in closer. "I can do one better. Close your eyes."
Lois conceded, too exhausted to argue, and Clark pursed his lips. He took a shallow, precise breath and channelled his breath with microscopic control, blowing a gentle, perfectly sharp jet of ice-cool air across her forehead. The relief was so sudden that it pierced right through the agonising fog of her fever, and drew a single tear from the corner of Lois’s eye and trickled down her cheek.
"Hey," Clark said gently, wiping the tear away. "I'm sorry. Did that hurt?"
"No," Lois whispered, opening her eyes and looking up at him with gratitude. "It was... perfect. You’re better than aspirin."
Clark smiled, leaning down to press a cool kiss to her temple. "Rest, Lois. I'm not going anywhere."
Unfortunately, the cooling relief was only a temporary fix; every time Clark stepped away to rinse a cloth or make her a hot water bottle, her temperature flared back up. Using his X-ray vision, Clark saw her immune system was working overtime, trying to fight off the viral infection that was harmless, but still nasty. Her pulse was racing too fast, and the temperature of her apartment wasn't helping. Clark then had an idea.
"Lois," he said softly, lifting her gently into a sitting position. "We're taking a trip."
Before she could muster the energy to protest, Clark transformed into his suit and tucked her firmly against his chest. He stepped out onto the balcony and took to the sky. He flew at a regular speed, cutting through the clouds while protecting Lois with his personal aura from the biting wind. Within minutes, the flashing lights of the city gave way to the pristine, blinding white of the Arctic. The Fortress of Solitude rose out from beneath the ice, and the large symbol of Clark's family crest lit up at Superman’s approach, granting them access. Inside, the temperature was perfectly cool compared to the heat of Metropolis, and Clark strode into the main room holding Lois in his arms.
Gary walked towards them. "Welcome back, sir. We weren’t expecting you for a while," his synthesised voice echoed through the crystalline hall. "Miss Lane does not look well.”
"She has a severe fever, Gary," Clark said, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "I need a recovery chamber prepared immediately and modified for human comfort. Raise the humidity ever so slightly, dim the light and find her some soft bedding. That should be available in the archive."
"Right away, sir."
The robot turned away, directing a small group of numbered others to a secluded alcove. The crystals shifted, growing and reconfiguring themselves into a sleek, private room and within moments, the robots had laid out a bed covered with pillows and soft cotton sheets. Clark gently laid Lois down, pulling the plush cover up to her chin, and she let out a soft groan, her eyes fluttering open to take in the pale blue glow of the fortress’ walls.
“We're in your ice castle," she mumbled, her mind a bit hazy from the fever. "Always so dramatic, Clark."
"Only the best healthcare for my love," Clark teased gently, brushing a damp strand of hair off her face. “Try to get some sleep.”
Lois tried to nod off but found she was still restless as she turned her head from side to side as her body tried to fight off the infection. Desperate to soothe her, Clark walked over to the other side of the room where a delicate, shimmering object rested. It was a Kryptonian harp- an elegant instrument made of crystal, with strings composed of fine, glowing metal. It was based on a very similar one that his family had owned back on Krypton.
He moved it gently beside the bed and sat with it leaning against his shoulder, placing his hands gently over the strings. He hadn't played in a long time, but the muscle memory came back quickly as he brushed his right hand across the furthest strings.The Kryptonian instrument emitted a deep, resonant hum that seemed to vibrate through the air, carrying a beautiful melody that sounded like a mix of memories and family. Clark’s fingers danced across the ice as he played a traditional lullaby, one that he wasn’t sure he really knew but seemed to be buried in his mind somewhere, and he noticed that it was having a positive effect on Lois in the bed beside him. The tense lines on her forehead were smoothing out, and even her breathing seemed to be falling into a regular pattern. She let out a contented sigh, her body finally relaxing to the lullaby.
Clark didn't stop playing and continued to keep the music gentle as he watched over her in the quiet heart of the fortress. At the bottom frame of the harp, Clark’s boots moved across the spread of pedals, pressing them down heavily when he needed to change keys as his fingers plucked out new melodies.
Lois’s eyelids, heavy with fatigue, cracked open just enough to see Clark sitting beside the bed. Through the haze of her fever, Clark looked almost mythical, silhouetted against the glow of the fortress and playing an alien harp with impossible gentleness. To Lois, this part of him was something she wouldn’t let him forget in a hurry, and as she listened to the heavy thuds of his boots striking the pedals, a weak but genuine smile tugged at her lips. Clark’s gaze moved just as Lois was watching him play, and without breaking the song's speed, he returned the smile, his foot tapping the pedal once more to send a deep, comforting vibration through the ice floor under her bed.
Lois let out a long, contented breath and closed her eyes again with a yawn, letting the rhythm carry her into a deep sleep. The final glissando of the strings vibrated into silence, and Clark pushed the harp back to its standing position. Ever so slowly, he sat beside her on the edge of the bed, moving his velvet red cape to the side of his thighs where it draped down over the duvet to the ground. He reached out to her head, resting his palm sympathetically on her forehead, his thumb lightly tracing the arch of her eyebrow.
A soft, mechanical whirring broke the stillness of the chamber and Robot 12 walked in as quietly as she could, her optical sensor blinking with an inquisitive light.
"Superman?" Robot 12 asked, her voice automatically lowering to a respectful softness. "My diagnostics indicate that Miss Lane is suffering from a basic viral infection. The fortress medical bay could cure her within seconds. Why do you make her endure this discomfort?"
Clark didn't look up, and Lois stirred slightly at the sound of the robot's voice, murmuring incoherently as she instinctively sought out Clark's presence. Shifting his weight, Clark leaned over and wrapped his arms around her, gathering her shivering body against him and holding her close.
“Because, 12, it isn't fair," he rested his chin gently against the top of Lois's head and sighed. “If I use our technology for one person, where do I draw the line? Do I cure her fever, but let our coworkers suffer through theirs? That then opens the door to using Kryptonian science to eradicate every disease in Metropolis or the entire world.” Clark tightened his embrace. “Lois is human. I am not. She fights for humanity, and we both love it for all its flaws and struggles, but if I start picking and choosing who gets saved by alien technology, I stop being a hero, and I start playing god. It wouldn't be fair... and honestly, Lois would be the very first person to call me out for doing it."
Robot 12’s optical sensor blinked in a rapid sequence, processing the complex answer. “A logical conflict. Understood, sir. I will make sure to keep her comfortable while she is here.”
"Thank you," Clark whispered.
The robot turned back into the shadows of the fortress, and Clark sighed. Left alone in the quiet bedroom, he closed his eyes and held his girlfriend close, content to let his warmth comfort her. Carefully, so as not to disturb her too much, Clark shifted his weight on the mattress and slid his long legs out, manoeuvring himself until he was sitting upright directly behind her with his back resting against the smooth crystal headboard. Lois let out a soft, unconscious murmur of approval as her head tilted to find the perfect nook beneath his chin. Clark smiled and reached down to grab the folds of his heavy cape and with a fluid motion, he brought the fabric upward, draping the soft material over Lois’s legs and wrapping it securely around her body like a blanket. The cape trapped the warmth of him around her, like it had done for him when he was a child, and cocooned her in absolute safety. Lois sank deeper into his embrace, her hands instinctively clutching the edge of the cape, and exhaled. Much to Clark's delight, she stopped shivering. Her skin was still a little clammy, but nothing compared to how it had been before arriving at the fortress, and she slept soundly against the man she loved.