Chapter 2 of A Little Peice of Home now up - and apparently it's not finishing there like I expected!
Here's a snippet:
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Lois wasn’t sure if it was lingering adrenaline or a burst of fresh air that did the trick, but he found some strength from somewhere, enough to propel himself forwards on his own two feet and a bit of support from her. It was a frustratingly slow, fumbling process, but eventually they made it through Clark's apartment door and into his bedroom. Lois carefully helped him lower down onto the bed, and he collapsed against the mattress.
Shit, he’s shivering.
Skin pale. Teeth chattering. She placed a hand over his forehead. He was definitely burning up. Lois tried to remember what you were supposed to do for a fever. She hadn’t been sick much herself, but she’d taken care of Luce plenty of times as a kid. Drink lots of fluids. Cold compress on the neck and forehead. Light layers only. Take some tylenol.
Would it even work on him?
'Clark?' she tried, hoping he might have the answers.
He turned towards her, mouth opening as though trying to speak, but no sound came out. His body squirmed against some unknown pain. Eyes rolled back in his head as he continued to tremble feverishly. A raspy, almost choked breath escaped his lips, followed by a low groan.
Lois felt tears stinging her eyes.
What was happening to him?
He'd told her nothing could hurt him. He'd truly believed that to be true up until now. Whatever that meteor had done to him... they had no idea how long it would take for him to recover.
Or if he even would...
What if he just got worse?
Panic gripped her at the thought, and she wondered whether taking him to a hospital might be the right call after all. Surely Clark had a spare Superman suit here in his apartment somewhere, maybe if she found that she could-
A heaving sound brought her attention violently away from her thoughts. Clark looked somehow even paler, and was trying to roll onto his side as his body started to retch.
Lois grabbed the nearest container she could find, a small plastic bin, and thrust it under his chin just as he started emptying to the contents of his stomach.
'Hey, it's okay, I've got you,' she soothed, stroking his hair as he trembled through a few more bursts of vomiting.
When he was done, he collapsed on his back again, eyes closed but still squirming in discomfort.
Okay, she had to try and get his fever down, now.
'I'm going to get you out of these clothes,' she explained, but he was too far gone to react.
Lois acted without much delicacy. She pulled his shoes from his feet, letting them drop to the floor, then fumbled with his belt buckle. His dress pants slid off easily, but his top half was harder, his muscles unhelpfully resistant to her attempts to pull his shirt off his shoulders.
Eventually she had him stripped to his boxers, and managed to tug his torso up the bed so that his head rested against a pillow. His eyes seemed to focus on hers for a moment, searching her gaze. The fear she saw behind them disturbed her more than she’d like to admit.
She just… wasn’t used to seeing Clark scared.
'It's okay, I'm here. You're safe now,' she said, stroking a hand down his cheek. 'It's going to be okay.'
But she had no idea if that was true.
Lois dashed over to the little ensuite, keeping an eye on him the whole time as she filled a bowl with cold water and grabbed two clean wash cloths from the cupboard. She returned quickly, using the first cloth to wipe his mouth, and then dunking the second in the bowl of water, ringing it out and then laying it across his forehead, pressing it against his skin.
From the deep sigh that came up from Clark's throat, the cold was definitely helping, but she could already feel the cloth drying out. He wasn’t just running a temperature, he was blasting heat like a furnace.
It wasn’t going to be enough.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/80413106/chapters/211554041#workskin
