Little Girl Lost by Laura Davies aka Bratling aka BrightFeather Rated: PG-13 Submitted: September 2003 Disclaimer: I don't own Lois, Clark, Perry, Jimmy, or any of the related DC Comics and WB characters. All other characters not seen in the series are a figment of my chocolate and PEZ high imagination and belong to me. ;) Other bouts of weirdness can be attributed to sleep deprivation. Any resemblance to any other work of fiction is strictly coincidental. Author's Note: There is a strong content warning on this piece. Some readers may find the subject matter disturbing as it involves child abuse. It also starts with a major WHAM, but just remember, I always write happy endings. I must thank my amazing beta readers, Jenni, Wanda, Avia, Pat, and SQD. Without their encouragement, this would never have seen the light of day. Also many thanks to Barb Pillsbury for technical support and information on the workings of the foster care system. May thanks to my GE, Carol Malo for giving this one last look-see before y'all got it. ;) If you know of a child who is being abused, visit http://www.kidsafe-caps.org/report.html for your local reporting hotline (US only), or call 1-800-4-A-CHILD in North America. In the UK, call Childline at 0800 1111. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "Monday's child is fair of face. Tuesday's child is full of grace. Wednesday's child is full of woe. Thursday's child has far to go. Friday's child is loving and giving. Saturday's child works hard for a living. And the child that is born on the Sabbath day Is bonny and blithe and good and gay" --Mother Goose Nursery Rhyme ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 1: Monday's Child ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ October 20, 1998, 9:00 p.m. Somewhere in the suburbs of Metropolis Rachel huddled in the corner of her bedroom, praying that Papa Gary wouldn't come looking for her. She could hear loud shouting coming from downstairs followed by crashes that meant he was breaking things again... and she was most likely next on the list. She didn't understand why he hurt her; after all, he was nice to Timmy, her half-brother. Then again, Papa Gary wasn't really her daddy--he had told her so often enough. "Rachel!" she heard. The child shivered and tried to curl herself into a smaller ball, praying not to be noticed. A man walked into the room and smiled cruelly when he saw her. "Hello Rachel," he said, the sweetness of his tone belying the sadistic look in his eyes. He slowly pulled his leather belt out of his pants and advanced towards the small child. "You were bad today," he said menacingly, "and because I love you, it means that you have to be punished." He smacked the belt lightly against his hand before reaching out to pull the five-year old out of the corner. "Your mother left you on my hands when she died, so it's up to me to make sure that you don't turn out bad like her," he said as he threw her towards the bed. He smiled as her head cracked against the wall behind the bed and pulled back the belt. Rachel closed her eyes, dizzily waiting for the blow to fall and wished that her mother had taken her along to Heaven. She barely remembered her and the happy times before Papa Gary had begun to hurt her. She gritted her teeth against the pain she knew was coming, not daring to cry out--the last time she cried, he had locked her in a dark closet for three days. He smacked the piece of leather against his palm once more. "You have to learn your place, brat," the soft voice continued as he loomed over the little girl. "You were an accident. Your real father left your mother because he hated you. Rachel, you should have never been born." He pulled back the belt and hit her as hard as he could. It wasn't long before the child lapsed into unconsciousness. He stared at the girl with contempt and threw her over his shoulder, flinching as the warm, sticky blood from her lacerations rubbed onto his favorite cashmere sweater. He carried her small form downstairs and threw her into his SUV, ignoring the fact that it was October and the child lacked both a coat and shoes to protect her from the freezing temperatures. Gary drove into a deserted alley on the other side of town from where he lived and dumped the child on a street corner. He stared at the unconscious form for a moment and prodded her with the tip of his cowboy boot. When Rachel didn't move, he kicked her viciously, provoking a slight moan. Satisfied that he hadn't killed her, he got into his SUV and drove away. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ October 20, 1998, 10:00 p.m. 348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis Lois snuggled into Clark's warm bulk, twining her legs in his. They had gotten off work early since it was a slow news week, and had spent the evening in a more pleasurable pursuit: trying to make a baby. She knew that the possibility of her being pregnant was slim. After all, they had been trying for well over a year now with no results. She wanted a baby more than anything, but they had been turned down as candidates for adoption, and the baby that had appeared in their house last year had been returned to his rightful parents. She sighed quietly, wishing that this time their dreams would come true. Clark rolled over to face her. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asked softly, brushing a strand of sweat-soaked hair back from her face. "I'm okay," she replied, bringing her hand to rest on her stomach. "Do you think?" she asked quietly, her face filled with hope. "Lois, honey," Clark began, "as much as we want a baby we both know what Dr. Klein and your father said..." "I know," she said quietly. Lois leaned over and kissed him fiercely. Clark brought his hand up to thread it through her hair and kissed her back, tangling his tongue with hers. They broke off the kiss, breathless. She looked up at him and smiled a bit sadly. "I know there isn't much chance," she said, "but I want your baby, our baby, more than anything." A smile stole over her face as her hand came to rest on his abdomen and began to slide lower. "Besides," she added mischievously, "it sure is fun trying." Clark chuckled and flipped her over, coming to rest on his side next to her. "Why, Ms. Lane," he teased, "are you trying to seduce me?" Lois looked at him with an expression of wide-eyed innocence. "Trying, sweetheart?" she questioned. "I thought I already had!" Clark laughed again and leaned over to kiss her. She licked her lips in anticipation as his mouth hovered over hers, then sighed in pleasure as his tongue brushed past her lips and began a thorough exploration of her mouth. She moaned softly and ran her fingers over his back and sides, finding several erogenous zones that she had discovered long before. Clark broke off the kiss and traced her face with one finger. "I love you," he said quietly. He pulled the blankets up over them to block out the chilly air and leaned down to capture her lips with his. They once again began to rediscover each other in the calm October night, trying for the child they wanted so desperately. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ October 20, 1998, 11:30 p.m. An alleyway in uptown Metropolis Cynthia quickened her pace as she cut through the alleyway on her way back to her upscale apartment building. The movie had gotten out late, and it was long past time that she should be home. She shivered against the chill night air and wished now that she'd taken a cab despite the short distance. At least with Superman residing in Metropolis, she didn't have to worry about getting mugged. Cynthia looked down at her feet, carefully picking her way through the small puddles of oil-slicked water and other dubious substances. She reached the end of the alley and stepped out on to the slick sidewalk. She frowned slightly as she noticed a small crumpled form lying on the sidewalk a short distance away, and wondered if some poor, homeless person had caught her death in the chilly weather. She walked closer to investigate and gasped when she realized it was a child. Crouching down, she felt for a pulse with a trembling hand and breathed a sigh of relief as she found a faint heartbeat. Without a second thought, she shrugged off her heavy cranberry-colored wool coat and spread it over the little girl. She pulled her cellphone out of her purse and quickly punched in 911. "My name is Cynthia Kirby and I just found a little girl lying on the sidewalk at the corner of Knowlton Street and Mitchell Avenue. It looks like she's been beaten pretty badly, and she's unconscious." She paused for a moment. "Yes, I'll stay with her. Please, hurry!" Carefully, Cynthia began to smooth the little girl's tangled hair away from her face, hoping that the ambulance would arrive in time. She longed to cradle the small child in her arms, but realized she might have internal injuries and didn't want to risk hurting her even further. "It'll be all right, little one," she said quietly. "I promise." The ambulance and the police arrived a few minutes later. As the paramedics wrapped the child in blankets, put an oxygen mask over her face, and loaded her into the vehicle, Cynthia gave her statement to the police. She stopped momentarily to watch the ambulance speed off into the night before she finished telling her story. After promising to come down to the precinct in the morning, Cynthia walked off into the night and headed towards home. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ October 20, 1998, 11:40 p.m. 348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis Clark heard the sound of a siren and slipped quietly out from underneath Lois. He sighed as he grabbed a fresh Suit and spun into it. He really didn't like leaving her like this, but as quiet as things had been lately, perhaps he could finish quickly and return home. He sped out the window toward the sound of the sirens. Superman landed beside the police officer. "Excuse me, officer, but is there anything I can help with?" he asked politely. The policeman turned to face him. "I'm afraid not, Superman. It's just another tragic case--a young woman was coming home from the movie theatre and found a little girl out here," he said, stopping to rub his eyes. "Someone beat her up pretty badly and left her out here to die." Superman frowned. "Any idea who did this?" "No, but considering that the girl looks to be only about four or five, it was either a relative, or she's possibly a kidnap victim," he sighed. "They took her to Metropolis General." "Thank you, officer," Superman said as he took off. He hovered over the crime scene and scanned the area. Finding nothing, he shook his head sadly and flew back to the brownstone. He could check on the child in the morning; there was nothing he could do that night. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ October 21, 1998 12:01 am Metropolis General Hospital The paramedics quickly wheeled the gurney into the ER, checking to make sure that their precious burden was still breathing. Dr. Steven Kendall rushed over and began to treat the child as soon as they wheeled her into one of the examination rooms. "Tell me everything you know," he demanded gruffly from the paramedics. "She was found lying in a puddle in an alley. Obviously she's been beaten. Her heartbeat is strong, her respiration is good, but she hasn't regained consciousness yet," the paramedic replied. "I need x-rays immediately," Dr. Kendall said, turning to the technician. "We'll also be battling hypothermia; heaven knows how long she was out there." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He hated it when small children were brought in like this. "Let's get some thermal wraps in here and get her temp up," he instructed one of the emergency room nurses, "and get an I.V. drip of glucose started. I don't want to put her on any antibiotics until we can get some history on her." A little while later, Dr. Kendall smiled in relief. His little Jane Doe had escaped relatively unscathed--she was covered in bruises, but she had only one cracked rib and a concussion. Thank goodness, she hadn't been raped as he'd originally feared. He frowned as he took a closer look at the x-rays and observed several older fractures--one along her skull, now healed. Dr. Kendall shook his head. Family and Children Services would be getting this case... if she ever woke up. He sighed again before paging the pediatrician on call. The child needed a complete physical exam to find out exactly what had happened to her just in case they caught the SOB responsible for her condition. Dr. Jennifer Craine hurried into the room. "You rang, Dr. Kendall?" "I've got a miniature Jane Doe here," he said quietly. "A cracked rib, slight concussion, bruises, numerous cuts and welts, and exposure. Her x-rays show quite a collection of old breaks, and I need you to check her over a little more thoroughly." Dr. Craine nodded slowly. "Do you expect to find evidence of sexual abuse?" she asked quietly. "I don't know," he said with a sigh. "I did check for rape, but I want a second opinion to make sure." He ran his hand through what little hair he had left. "But she *was* thrown outside in the cold and left to die after being beaten unconscious. It's more than possible." "I'll collect evidence just in case," she said quietly. "Which room is she in?" "Room three," he answered bleakly. "Jennifer, she can't be more than six years old," he muttered, shaking his head. Jennifer laid her hand on his arm comfortingly. "It's okay, Steve," she said softly. "It's not like she'll ever be going back to the people who hurt her." Dr. Kendall nodded slowly, agreeing with her. Jennifer released his arm and hurried from the room, intent on her new little patient. After thoroughly examining the child, she rejoined Dr. Kendall. "Was she?" he asked quietly, hardly able to voice his worst fear. Wordlessly, Jennifer shook her head, relief on her face. "Thank goodness," he said softly. "We need to keep her overnight for observation and then I'm going to find out if Beth is on duty so she can see about getting the child placed--at least temporarily, over at Coates Orphanage." He grimaced. "I've heard her talking lately about the foster home shortage, so that's where the little one will end up. Then I can see about getting her admitted. Even if she wakes up, it's too late to send her over to Coates Orphanage in any case." Jennifer nodded and went back to Exam room three. She stroked the child's hair gently. "It will be okay, little one," she said softly. "I promise." October 21, 1998 10:00 am Daily Planet Perry consulted his notes and looked out over his assembled reporters. "Lane, Kent. What do you have for me?" he asked gruffly. "Not much, Chief," Clark admitted. "We've got the story on the little girl they found at the corner of Knowlton Street and Mitchell Avenue. She's awake, but she refuses to talk to anybody. She either doesn't remember, or she's too terrified to say anything. They're sending her over to Coates Orphanage from Metropolis General today until they can find a family to place her with." "That'll make a good human interest piece. Does anyone know what her name is, yet?" Perry asked. "I'm afraid not, Perry," Lois answered. "She isn't talking, so until she tells someone, we've got a five year old Jane Doe on our hands. The police are hoping that the Planet will help find her family because they don't have any reported missing children that match her description." Perry nodded. "That shouldn't be a problem," he said and motioned to Jimmy. "Jimmy, I want you to get over to Metropolis General and get some pictures of the child for the paper." "On my way, Chief," Jimmy said, grabbing his camera. He hurried out of the room. "Okay, that's it everybody. Y'all get out there and find me some news, people!" Perry smacked his fist into his hand and released his staff from the meeting. "Lois, Clark, can I talk to you for a minute?" "Sure, Chief," Clark answered. "Are you sure that no one knows anything about this child," he asked softly. "It's not front page, but..." He shook his head. "I've seen a lot in my years working for this paper..." he trailed off. Clark sighed. "Superman went over to try and talk to her this morning, but she wouldn't say anything." His face clouded over. "She seemed... afraid of him." "We're going to head over there and see if she's said anything yet," Lois said softly, taking Clark's hand and squeezing it gently. "It doesn't look like the other papers are very interested, so we have the exclusive." "Well, you two get on it," he said gruffly. "I want the story by deadline." "Yes, Chief," they chorused and turned to leave. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ October 21, 1998, 10:45 am Metropolis General Hospital Lois and Clark walked up to the front desk and patiently waited for the nurse to finish her telephone call. She waved, acknowledging that she had noticed them and finished quickly. "How may I help you?" she asked pleasantly. "I'm Lois Lane and this is my partner, Clark Kent, and we're from the Daily Planet. We're here about the little girl who was brought in last night and we were wondering if we might be able to speak to the child or the hospital social worker." Lois smiled sweetly at the nurse. Years of working with Clark had taught her that she could often get through easier when she was nice to the little people. The nurse smiled. "Ms. Grey's office is down the right- hand corridor on the second floor. It's the fourth door to your left." "Thank you, ma'am," Clark said with a charming smile. They set off towards the elevator and soon arrived at the office. Clark knocked on the door. "Come in," a pleasant voice said. Lois and Clark walked into the room. "Ms. Grey," Clark began, "I'm Clark Kent and this is Lois Lane. We're from the Daily Planet. We're here to find out about the Jane Doe who was brought in last night, and we wondered if there is any information you could share with us." "Please, have a seat." Ms. Grey gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. "Normally, we wouldn't release this kind of information on a patient, but since we have yet to identify her and the police have asked for cooperation, I'll tell you everything we know, which really isn't much. The child is around four or five years old with blonde hair and dark blue eyes. She was found by a young woman leaving a movie theatre last night around 11:30." Ms. Grey wound a strand of short hair around her finger. "She has a cracked rib, a concussion, lacerations, layers of bruises, and a narrow escape from hypothermia. I'm afraid that there's not much more that I can tell you-- since she regained consciousness, she's refused to speak." "What will happen to her from here?" Lois asked softly, her heart aching for this small scrap of mistreated humanity. Ms. Grey sighed. "There's no help for it," she began quietly. "She has to go to Coates Orphanage for the time being. They usually don't take children her age, but they do have a wing for young children in case of emergency." She ran her hand through her cropped locks. "Right now, there simply aren't enough foster homes to go around in Metropolis, so the Orphanage will do for short-term care until we can find her a foster home placement." "And if we never find out anything about her?" Clark asked. "We're running her description and picture through the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children's database. If she was kidnapped, something will show up. After that, we're going to check school records--at her approximate age, she would at least be in kindergarten, and they've already taken school pictures." She looked at them seriously. "We're going to find out who she is and how she got on that street corner." "Can we talk to her?" Lois asked hesitantly. "Follow me." Beth Grey motioned to them and strode from the room. "It's possible that she will talk to you, but there are a few things you need to know," she said glancing at Clark. "The child flinches away from any male who enters the room, including the photographer that your editor sent over... and it's also important if you ask her any questions that they be open-ended ones." She turned down a hallway and led them into pediatrics. "If we ever catch the person who did this to her, there's a good chance that she'll have to testify so that we can put him away. The only way we can get a conviction to stick is if she wasn't questioned inappropriately." Beth stopped in front of a door and regarded them seriously. "Mr. Kent, you should probably stay here with me and let your partner question the child. She's more likely to talk to your partner alone than she is to talk to you." Lois exchanged a look with Clark before entering the room. She looked at the small child curled up in the hospital bed and smiled softly. "Hello, little one," she murmured. The little girl looked up and waved hesitantly, her eyes wide with fear. "What's your name, sweetie?" Lois asked quietly. The child shook her head, terror spreading over her features. "Sweetheart, we just want to know what to call you. Later on today, after the doctor says it's okay, you're going to go live in a place where there are lots of other children to play with. Would you like that?" "Yes," the little girl whispered. "What's your name, honey?" Lois asked patiently. The child reached out her hand and touched a strand of Lois's hair. "Pretty," she said quietly. "So is yours, sweetie," Lois said, smiling. The child shook her head vigorously. "Papa Gary cut it off, 'cause I was bad. It's not pretty no more. It looks like Timmy cut it." Lois smiled and held out her hand. "It will get better," she said softly. "Can you tell me what your name is, little one?" The little girl looked at her measuringly. There was something about this lady that told her that she didn't need to be afraid to tell what her name was. She didn't really trust her, but the pretty lady reminded her of her mommy... or her teacher. "R-r-r-rachel," she said hesitantly, "Rachel Pierce." Lois smiled. "Where do you live, Rachel?" Terror flashed across Rachel's face. She started to shake and curled up into a ball, withdrawing from the conversation. Lois sighed and gently stroked Rachel's hair back from her face. "It's okay, Rachel," she said quietly. "Things are going to get better, you'll see." She walked slowly out of the room, stopping to glance back at the child, before joining Clark and Ms. Grey. "What did she say?" Beth asked quietly. Lois smiled, a trace of sadness on her face. "She told me that her 'Papa Gary' cut her hair off because she was bad, she knows someone named Timmy, and that her name is Rachel Pierce... then she curled up in a ball like she is now and refused to answer me when I asked where she was from." Beth sighed. "Thank you, Ms. Lane." She pulled a card out of her pocket and handed it over. "I can reach you at the Planet if there are any new developments, right?" Clark nodded and pulled out a business card of his own. "Please keep in touch, Ms. Grey. We'd like to know how Rachel is doing, if that's possible." "I can't promise anything, Mr. Kent... that will be up to her social worker, Samantha Parker, but I'll pass the information along." She shook Clark's hand quickly and turned to leave. Clark put his arm around Lois and began to lead her away from Rachel's room. "Why is it," she said quietly, "that some people have children that they abuse and throw away while some of us are denied them? She's only a little girl, it's not fair!" Clark stopped, pulled her into an embrace, and kissed her on the forehead. "I know honey," he said softly. "Right now we're a family of two... and that's enough. If we never have a baby, then we'll be fine just like we are." Lois nodded against his chest before pulling back slightly. She could tell that he had said that as much to reassure himself as to comfort her. With visible effort, she pulled herself together. "Let's go back to the Planet," she said. "We've got a story to write." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 2 Tuesday's Child ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ October 21, 1998 1:00 p.m. 235 Rideley Way, Metropolis Lois and Clark walked up to the entrance of the house, and she knocked on the door. "Coming, I'm coming," came a voice from inside. A gray-haired elderly woman answered the door, straightening the jacket of her smartly-tailored suit as she peered out at her new visitors. "Yes?" she asked, her faded green eyes twinkling. "Hello, Ma'am. My name is Clark Kent and this is my partner, Lois Lane. We're from the Daily Planet and we wanted to know if you recognize this child," he said, holding out a photograph of Rachel. "Oh, my," she put her hand up to her mouth. "That's little Rachel Pierce from across the street. What happened?" "She was found unconscious on a street corner across town last night," Lois said quietly. "We're working in conjunction with the police to find out what happened, and we were hoping that you might be able to give us some information about her." "Why don't you come in?" she invited, opening the door wider and ushering them inside. Lois and Clark came inside, and she gestured them toward the couch, shutting the door behind them before taking a seat herself. "I'm not sure how much I should tell you," she began hesitantly. "My name is Emma Lenski and I've lived in Metropolis my entire life.... My husband and I suspected that something was amiss with that sweet child; we could hear the screaming coming from the Russell's place some nights after Mr. Russell got home." Emma sighed nervously and began to toy with the bracelet on her right wrist. "I called Children and Family Services once. Rachel used to come over for cookies occasionally. I was happy to have her because my grandchildren live so far away." She regarded the couple seriously. "She had big bruises all over her arms--they looked like fingerprints. Social Services told me they'd take care of it, and Rachel stopped coming over soon after." Emma sighed quietly. "I thought that they'd resolved the problem, but..." Her eyes filled with tears. "...I still can't imagine that her stepfather would hurt her--he's such a small man and he seems rather quiet." "What about the little girl's mother?" Clark asked quietly. "Mrs. Russell died last year, and Rachel's biological father deserted them before Rachel was born. Mr. Russell's had a procession of nannies to take care of the children since their mother's death," Emma replied. "Perhaps the nanny was the one who hurt Rachel?" she asked, her eyes wide with the hope that her neighbor was innocent. "Mrs. Russell and I were good friends before the car accident that took her life. She used to bring Rachel over to play, and Timmy as well after he came along. He's two now." "Is there anything else you can tell us? Perhaps where she goes to school?" Lois questioned. "I've seen her catch the school bus on the corner," Emma offered hesitantly. "Thank you, Mrs. Lenski," Clark said, holding out his hand for her to shake. Lois pulled a card out of her purse and handed it to the grandmotherly lady. "If you think of anything else, please give us a call." Emma took the card from her and smiled sadly as they left. Why hadn't she done more, she wondered. She sighed, shook her head and returned to her morning's activities. Lois climbed into the jeep and glanced over at Clark. "Did Henderson want us to talk to anyone else?" she asked, starting the car and heading away from the upscale suburban neighborhood. "No," Clark replied. "He said that Family and Children Services had talked to everyone else and that we'd be getting full transcripts of the interviews for the Planet." He looked at his wife, sadness on his face. "Apparently, any public interest we can drum up for this little girl will help; her stepfather is a high-powered corporate lawyer." Clark sighed. "I can't help but think that if someone other than my parents had found me, I might have grown up with someone hurting me the way her stepfather has been hurting Rachel." Lois reached over and grasped his hand. "I know," she said softly. "You were lucky.... And now Rachel has a second chance; she's been rescued from her own private hell." "But how many children aren't so lucky?" Clark asked sadly. "How many more little kids are there in Metropolis who are trapped?" He ran his free hand through his hair. "And not even Superman can save them," he muttered. Lois stopped the car at the stop sign and turned towards him. "Clark, Superman might not be able to save them, but maybe we can--we'll talk to Perry about doing a sidebar or an editorial or *something*." Clark nodded slowly. "I hope it's enough," he said quietly. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ October 21, 2:00 p.m. Coates Orphanage, Metropolis Rachel pulled her hand out of the social worker's grasp, not wanting to be touched, and looked around her with wide eyes. It looked kind of like her school, and that had always been a safe place, but at the same time, she was terrified of being left there. The social worker dropped to her knees so that her eyes were level with Rachel's. "Rachel," she began, "we're going to do our best to find you a family as quickly as we can, but until then, you'll be safe here, okay?" Rachel nodded, looked down, and wrapped her arms around herself. She knew better than to hope that anything would get better--she had to take care of herself. She'd been doing it ever since her mother had died; Papa Gary sure didn't. "Rachel," the social worker said gently, "do you remember my name?" Rachel nodded again, carefully stepping back from the woman. "Can you say it?" she asked as she put a finger underneath the girl's chin and tilted her head up. "Sam," Rachel whispered, pulling away before this new person had a chance to hurt her as well. "Rachel," Samantha began, "I'm going to tell the people who are going to care for you that you can call me to talk if you need me, okay?" Rachel nodded, not believing what Samantha said. She pulled her arms more tightly around herself and stared at the ground. "C'mon, Rachel," Samantha said gently. "Let's get you settled." She stood up and started down the pathway while Rachel followed behind her, climbing the flight of stairs that led to the door. They entered the building and walked down a long hallway and turned into another. It wasn't long before they reached a large, brightly-colored room filled with long rows of beds. Samantha placed the paper bag full of necessities on the bed, grateful to the church group who had begun to assemble 'possibles bags' for children like Rachel who had nothing in the way of material possessions when they came into foster care. "Rachel, we're going to your house to talk to your stepfather today. Is there anything that you'd particularly like from home?" Samantha asked. Rachel stepped back at the mention of her stepfather and hung her head to stare intently at the linoleum-covered floor, studying the patterns that the tiles made. "Are you taking me back?" she whispered. Samantha dropped to her knees and tipped the child's chin up so she could look her in the eye. "No, I'm not, Rachel. We're going to go talk to a judge today and you're going to stay here until we find you a new family." Rachel flinched back from her touch and retreated to the opposite side of the bed, out of reach. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and began to scuff her shoe against the floor. "C-c-could I have Aimee, my dolly?" she said almost inaudibly. "My Mommy gave her to me," she finished in a whisper. "I'll see what I can do, sweetie," Samantha promised. "Now, let me show you where you can put your stuff...." She moved towards a nearby dresser and pulled out a drawer. She normally would leave this kind of thing to the Home's staff, but most of the staff from this part of the Orphanage simply weren't around. She also didn't want to frighten Rachel by introducing Mr. Stevens to her until she had a place to call her own. With her negative reaction to men, it was as if she expected blows and harsh words from them as a matter of course. Samantha sighed as she helped transfer the child's sparse belongings from the brown paper sack to the drawer. It would be best for Rachel if they set up an appointment with the county's new art therapist as soon as possible. It was absolutely amazing the successes that were emerging from practitioners in this new field. Anything that could bring little Rachel out of her self-imposed isolation had to be a good thing. And if it led to them being able to get enough evidence to convict the monster that had hurt her, then it would be even better. They had managed to collect some evidence, but until Rachel told them who had hurt her, it was unlikely that they could get a conviction. Lost in thought, Samantha finished the small task and carefully led the girl out of the dormitory and downstairs to meet the director. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ October 22, 1998 2:30 p.m. Daily Planet, Metropolis Clark read through another stack of research and whistled. "Amazing," he muttered softly. Perry had asked him to do a sidebar that included information on the history of child abuse. Relieved, Clark had agreed, hoping that by giving the public some cold, hard facts on child abuse, coupled with Rachel's story, people might try and help. Child abuse was not one of the problems that Superman could solve. Clark turned to his keyboard, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and began typing furiously. As impassioned as he was about the subject, he finished the article in record time and sent it to Lois's terminal so that she could look over it. He stood and quickly made his way over to Lois's desk. "Lois?" he said quietly, not wanting to startle her. He smiled as he noticed her abstracted look. She was immersed in her story and wasn't paying much attention to what was going on around her. "Hmm?" she replied. Clark leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the back of her neck. "I just sent you the sidebar. I thought you'd like to see it." "Thanks," she murmured, still busy typing. "Almost finished?" he asked, putting his hands on her shoulders and beginning to rub them gently. "Yeah," she said, typing the last sentence. "Okay, all done." She looked up at him and smiled. "Take a look at it for me?" "Sure!" he replied, leaning down to kiss her softly before turning his attention to the screen. He scanned through the story quickly. "You're missing a comma here," he said, adding it in. "Is that all, sweetheart?" she asked. "I was hoping, if our mean boss will allow it, we can go home... and work on that other project of ours." Clark grinned. "Other project?" he asked, feigning innocence. Lois reached up, grabbed his tie, and reeled him in for a kiss. "Ohhh, yess... *that* project," he said, leaning in to steal another kiss. They broke off the kiss and pulled apart reluctantly as they heard someone clear their throat behind them. "What is this?" a gruff voice asked. "Elvis's Honeymoon Hideaway? I want your stories now!" "On their way, Perry," Lois said, as she LANed the story to him and clicked open the file containing Clark's sidebar. She scanned it quickly, making a few changes, before she sent that one to Perry's computer as well. Perry smiled at them. "Thanks, kids. Now get on out of here--I don't want to see y'all until tomorrow." "Yes, Chief," they chorused. In a matter of minutes, they had gathered their stuff and headed towards the elevator. Before the metal doors could close, Clark was pulling her into his arms for another kiss. Lois clasped her arms around his neck as he brought his around her. "So," she asked between sweet kisses, "are we going to have another try at our little 'project' tonight?" Clark laughed softly and tightened his hold on her. "Superman can have the night off," he whispered. "I've got plans for the night that don't include him." Lois laughed softly and tugged his head down for another kiss. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 15, 1998 4:30 p.m. Coates Orphanage, Metropolis Rachel stood by the fence, watching the other children play. The dark-haired lady from the hospital was right--it was better here than at home. She smiled as she thought about the beautiful lady. Samantha told her that the lady's name was Ms. Lane when she had taken her to the pretty lady's house week before last. She wasn't sure why they'd gone there, but she didn't really care much, either. Ms. Lane's house wasn't scary like hers was. Rachel walked shyly along the fence, shaking her head when some of the others motioned for her to join them. They were too loud; they yelled all the time and she still wasn't used to it. The only yelling at home had been from Papa Gary, and yelling was scary. She shivered; she still had nightmares about waking up to find herself in her bed with her stepfather standing over her. That was one place she never wanted to go back to. She'd rather go back to Ms. Lane's house; she didn't seem like a yelling kind of person. "Rachel?" a voice called out from behind her. She turned around slowly. "Yes, Mr. Stevens?" she said quietly. She stepped back as he got close to her and flinched when he laid a hand on her shoulder. He dropped his hand quickly, having forgotten momentarily that touching without invitation was not advised. "Your counselor is here," he said, his voice gentle. "Run along inside to see her, okay?" "Yessir," she whispered and turned to run inside. Rachel hurried up the steps, entered the building, and headed over to the counselor's office. She knocked on the door timidly and pushed it open. "Come in, Rachel." A young woman came out from behind the desk and walked over. "Remember me?" she asked softly. Rachel shrank back, feeling as if she wanted to hide. "It's okay, Rachel," she soothed. "Can you remember my name?" Rachel nodded hesitantly. "Ms. Summers," she said in an almost inaudible voice, shrinking back shyly from the counselor. "That's right," Ms. Summers said with a broad smile. "I thought that you might like to color pictures today," she said, busily moving over to the cabinet and removing the necessary supplies. She laid them on a small table and sat down. Rachel approached the table, picked up some crayons and paper and sat down. "What do you want a picture of?" she asked quietly. "How about a picture of your family?" Ms. Summers requested. Rachel nodded and began to draw. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 15, 1998, 5:30 p.m. Daily Planet, Metropolis. Lois quickly typed the last few words of her latest story into her word processor, saved it, and LANed it to Perry. She sat back in her chair and sighed softly. Clark had been called away on an emergency--an accident on the freeway--and she was bored. There hadn't been any major villains around Metropolis for months, and everything was still pretty quiet. She had been to see Rachel a few times at Samantha Parker's request. Apparently, the child was still refusing to talk much. Almost all of her responses to questions were whispers. It was as if she were living in constant fear of another beating from everyone she came in contact with. Samantha had even brought her to the brownstone once, but Rachel had simply clung to Lois and refused to talk. Lois sighed and ran a hand through her hair. At the time, they had been desperate to get information from the little girl. Since Lois was one of the few people she had ever spoken to, they had decided to try it, but she was still mostly withdrawn. Rachel seemed to like the brownstone; it was almost as if she felt safe there. Lois sighed, shook off the memories, reached for the phone, and began to dial. "Yes, I know it's almost quitting time and you want to get home to your wife. Henderson, I *know*. Look, the faster you talk to me, the faster you can get home. *Okay*." Lois rolled her eyes and began to play with the telephone cord. "Do you have anything for me? It's quiet in Homicide. Uh *huh*. C'mon, you *have* to have *something*. All right," Lois sighed and raked her hair out of her face with her right hand. "Thanks anyway. Drive safe. You have a good night, too. Bye." Lois hung up the phone, pulled her address book out, and started flipping through it. She smiled as she came across Bobby Bigmouth's number. If anyone would have a lead on a story for her it would be Bobby. She picked up the phone and began to dial. "Bobby, this is Lois. What do you have for me? Yes, I know news has been slow these past few weeks. C'mon, Bobby, you owe me. What? A rash of infant deaths in the foster care system and in the emergency children's wing of the Coates Orphanage? And the causes of death are all listed as Sudden Infant Death Syndrome?" Lois took a deep breath, shocked by the news. She *knew* a few children in the system. What if... something had happened to them? She frowned before continuing. "Thanks, Bobby! Yes, if this pans out, Peking Duck next time. Okay, bye!" Lois hung up the phone, her eyes shining with excitement. This was the first good lead she'd had in weeks! She looked at her watch and grimaced. It was too late to get the coroner's reports, so she'd have to wait until the next day. "Lois, in my office," Perry called out. "Coming, Chief," she said. Lois grabbed her note pad and a pencil, hurried across the newsroom, and entered Perry's office. "What d'ya need, Perry?" she asked. "I just wanted to know how you're doing, darlin'," Perry said with a smile. "I also wanted to know if you've managed to find a front page story for me, and if you've got any updates on the Pierce girl." "I'm okay, Perry. That was Bobby on the phone now. It's too late to know if it's front page, above the fold material, but I've got a definite lead on a story." Lois studied her notepad intently. "And the little girl is okay for now. They have an art therapist seeing her while they gather more evidence against her stepfather." Perry nodded. "What's the lead about?" he asked. "Apparently there have been approximately 25 infants and toddlers from the foster care system in the past 3 months die from SIDS," she explained. "Bobby says that the deaths are spread out over the surrounding counties and that same doctor handled the autopsies. He said that the word on the street is that the deaths weren't SIDS and that the doctor was bribed." "Sounds good. Keep me updated, darlin'." Perry glanced at his watch. "Now you skeddadle on outta here and I'll see you tomorrow." Lois smiled. "Goodnight, Perry," she said, turning to leave. "Goodnight, darlin'," he said softly. Perry turned to his desk and started packing his stuff up to leave. It had been a long day, and Alice was waiting for him at home. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 15, 1998, 10:30 p.m. Coates Orphanage, Early Childhood Wing, Metropolis "No, No, NO!" Jared shook his head and groaned as the nightly screaming began. Not Rachel again. It never failed. As soon as he got the little snot-nosed brats down for the night, she'd start screaming. He got up, walked over to the bed where the little girl lay, and began to pat her back. "NO! G'way! DON'T. Please," Rachel whimpered. "It's too *dark* in the closet!" She thrashed around on the bed, scattering the blankets. Jared put his hand on her shoulder and shook her gently rather than smacking the living daylights out of her like he wanted to. "Wake up, Rachel--it's just a dream. You're safe now," he said neutrally. "NOOOOOOOOO," she sat up, took one look at him, and jumped out of bed to run and hide in the corner of the room. Rachel sat in the corner, shivering. She put her arms around her knees and began to rock back and forth, silent tears streaming down her face. Jared sighed and grabbed one of the rucked up blankets off the bed. They went through this almost nightly, and he knew from experience that she wouldn't leave the corner until after she was sure that he was gone. He walked over and carefully wrapped the blanket around her, knowing that if he left her to freeze, there'd be hell to pay. He was, after all, responsible for the screaming freak. He backed away quietly, not wanting to make her scream loudly, and left the room. He shoved his hands in his pockets and began to make his way down the hall to check on the other children. "She's disrupting the others," a voice said from behind his shoulder. Jared jumped, startled, and turned around. "Sheesh. Don't *do* that, Paul. You scared me!" He gave Paul a measuring glance. As usual, the tall man was immaculately dressed and looked every inch a clean-cut all-American boy. His short blond hair was combed away from his face while his deep brown eyes darted around the hallway, intent upon finding anyone who might be watching. "Sorry." He looked at Jared with an upraised eyebrow. "It *is* true, you know. The child is constantly waking up the other kids, and it isn't fair to them or us. She's withdrawn and doesn't really talk to anybody. The only person she's been known to talk to willingly is that Lane woman. Perhaps the psychiatric ward over at Metropolis General would be a better place for her." "Maybe," Jared replied. "She's giving *me* a headache." He gestured towards an empty room nearby. "Join me? We've got another order for a kid." Paul smiled and walked into the room. "Is Doctor King still on the payroll?" he asked. Jared nodded. "Yeah. We've even got a kid come in today that matches the description of one the buyer wants." Rachel crept quietly down the hall, looking for the bathroom, and hearing the voices, slipped in the room. "Did you obtain a new supply of the chemical?" Paul asked. "Sure did, boss," he replied. "Our pet chemist modified the formula to get rid of the side effects and make sure that the drug's action will be delayed." Paul reached in his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash. "Here's your cut from the last one," he said, handing it over. Jared pocketed the cash. "Thanks, Boss. I'll get the merchandise ready for transport. Our chemist says that the drug has an eight-hour time delay, so we administer the drug before the foster parents get here to pick the brat up, and it'll look completely natural." He smirked at Paul. "We're just lucky that this foster care crisis is working in our favor; it's much easier to get to the kids now that they're stoppin' in here overnight." Paul grinned. "We're making a mint off of this," he said gleefully. "And the best part is that no one suspects anything!" He frowned suddenly. "We may have to change counties soon--we're gonna run outta babies and toddlers." Paul turned and noticed Rachel's small form standing in the light from the hallway. He began to frown. "What'd you hear, kid?" he asked roughly. If she had heard too much, all of them could end up with a long prison term, and it simply wasn't in the plan. He supposed that they were lucky that the kid didn't talk much; if she ever opened her mouth, he'd have to silence her. "Sumpin," she answered sullenly. Paul grabbed Rachel by the arm and dragged her over near Jared. "Brat, what did you *hear*?" he asked. Rachel began to shiver. "You got a drug that you need to sell sumpin," she answered, frightened. Paul's frown deepened. "Anything else?" he growled. "Saw you give mister some money," she said softly. "I think the kid heard more than that, don't you, Jared?" Paul said as a smile began to creep over his face. "I agree, Boss," Jared answered. "Grab the kid and hold her," Paul ordered. Jared grabbed Rachel and held her by her arms, clutching her tightly enough to leave bruises. Paul began to pace in front of her. "Kid, you've heard too much--you know enough to get me in trouble... and I can't let you talk," he smiled nastily. "You're gonna promise me to never tell anybody this or you'll be sorry you were born." Paul balled up his fist and hit her twice, once in the stomach and once in the face. Rachel slumped against Jared's grip, dazed. "You're not gonna tell, are ya, brat?" he asked. "Nossir," she said quietly, fighting back tears. She had been right all along. She was on her own and had to take care of herself; the grown-ups were all liars... except perhaps, the pretty lady who lived in the safe place. "Go put her back in her bed, Jared," Paul ordered. Jared nodded and began to drag her back towards the dormitory. He shoved her back on her bed and leaned down over her. "You'd better not tell," he whispered. "If you do, what your Papa Gary did will look like heaven." He walked off, disappearing into the hallway. Rachel shivered in her bed. She wanted her Mommy back... or pretty Ms. Lane. One thing was for certain, she wasn't going to stay here anymore. She climbed out of bed silently and grabbed Aimee. Quietly, she made her way over to the window, opened it, and swung out into the tree that grew beside the building. She climbed down the tree quickly and headed off into the night. Ms. Lane worked for the Daily Planet--she remembered hearing Samantha talking about it. If she could find the Planet, maybe Ms. Lane would keep them from hurting her. The pretty lady did seem to care... and she reminded her of her Mommy. Rachel walked down the dark streets and disappeared into an alley. She remembered the Planet being fairly close to the orphanage, but she wasn't sure where it was. Rachel shivered as a cold, icy wind cut through her thin pajamas like a knife, and she clutched her doll closer to her. She stepped on a patch of ice and slipped, her bare feet finding little purchase on the slick surface. As her hands hit the pavement, she stifled a cry, knowing that if anyone heard, they wouldn't care. She picked herself up, chose a direction, and started hiking off into the inky darkness. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 3 Wednesday's Child ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ November 16, 1998 12:00 am 348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis Lois smiled sleepily as Clark climbed into bed next to her. "Hey, you," she said softly. She moved over and settled her head comfortably on his chest. "How did it go?" she asked. "Pretty good," he said, smiling as he leaned down to kiss her. "The fire wasn't serious and everybody got out okay. I gave Mike the interview... It'll be his first from Superman." "That's nice," she said, reaching over to lace her fingers through his, her mind obviously elsewhere. She played with his fingers absently before speaking. "Sweetheart," she began, "I was wondering... do you think we could try the adoption option again? I know we were refused last year, but it's not like you've had to rescue me much lately." She looked up at Clark hopefully. "It's possible that they'd accept us as candidates." "I don't know, sweetheart," he answered truthfully. "All we can do is try." Clark leaned down and kissed her softly. "Yeah," she sighed and snuggled closer to him. "I talked to Bobby today," she began, turning her head to drop a gentle kiss on his chest. "I think we've got a lead on a story--twenty-five babies and toddlers in the system have died in the past few months, and the cause of death for all of them has been listed as SIDS." "That's insane!" Clark commented, wide-eyed. "That's just *way* too many kids; there has to be something else going on there." "Tell me about it," Lois said wryly. "The sheer numbers are far too high for it to be coincidence." "If it's not SIDS, what's *really* happening to all of the kids?" Clark wondered out loud. "I don't know," Lois said softly. "We'll get to the bottom of it," Clark promised. "Tomorrow..." he interrupted himself with a huge yawn. Lois chuckled softly and reached over to turn out the light. "G'night, sweetheart," she said quietly. She settled herself comfortably on Clark's chest and soon joined him in a deep sleep. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998 2:30 am The Streets of Metropolis Rachel shivered violently as she walked. She had been wandering for hours, and knew that she was well and truly lost. She didn't know where the Daily Planet was, and she figured that she wasn't any closer to finding it. Sleepily, she rubbed her eyes. Rachel stubbed her toes against a big crack in the sidewalk and fell, landing face first on the wet, dirty pavement. Tears began to gather in her eyes. She curled up around Aimee on the filthy asphalt and gave in to the tears that had been threatening for so long. She was freezing and dirty, as well as hungry and tired, and she ached from the numerous bruises and scrapes on her body. She sobbed into the doll's yarn hair, wishing for someone, anyone, to come and put her arms around her. "Mommy," she whispered sadly. She didn't have many memories of her mother; they were all hazy, dream-like. But she did remember how it felt to be held close by someone who loved her, and she yearned for that feeling now. Rachel scrubbed the tears from her cheeks, further smearing the dirt and blood on her face. She pushed herself up from the ground and shivered again, feeling the bite of the icy wind as it blew through her thin, torn pajamas. Blubbering like a baby never does any good, she thought sadly. Nobody cares; no one ever comes. Maybe it'd be easier to find the Daily Planet in the morning. Maybe pretty Ms. Lane will care. Rachel sighed. It was too cold to sleep outside; she wanted to find someplace warmer to try and sleep in. She looked up and down the street she was on. Houses. Houses everywhere and none of them were hers. Rachel frowned slightly--all of the houses on this block kind of reminded her of the pretty lady's house. She shivered again as a sharp breeze whipped through her. Rachel turned, glanced at the house closest to her, and brightened. The door didn't have a lock on it. She'd probably get in trouble when the people who lived there found her, but she decided not to care. She was tired and it looked like a good place to rest. With aching feet, she climbed the flight of stairs that led to the door and slipped inside. Rachel smiled sleepily as the warmth of the house began to seep into her icy skin. She could at least get warm here... and if the peoples were nice, perhaps they'd take her to the Daily Planet to see Ms. Lane again. Rachel walked over to the corner of the entryway and curled up there. She cradled Aimee in her arms and began to rock the doll to sleep. "You're the only one who loves me, now," she whispered. "You're the only one who's there for me." She began to quietly hum the tune of an almost- forgotten lullaby quietly. "I love you, Aimee," she said, before cuddling the damp, grubby doll. "I love you," she whispered before falling into a deep sleep. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998 5:30 am 348 Hyperion Avenue Clark woke to a cry for help, looked at the clock, and groaned. 5:30. He could survive on less sleep than most people, but between the hurricane that had hit the Bahamas last week and a few other crimes and disasters, he hadn't been getting nearly enough sleep lately. He slipped out of bed, spun into the Suit, and, making sure that his cell phone was in the pocket of his cape, he flew off to attend to the call for help. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998 6:00 am Coates Orphanage, Early Childhood Wing, Metropolis Jared walked into the dormitory and looked around. Most of the children were safely tucked in bed asleep, but one in particular was empty. He examined the room and grimaced when he noticed the open window. The brat had run away. Mr. Stevens, the director, wasn't going to like the fact that one of the children was missing. Jared knew he'd be lucky if he could escape with just a lecture. He sighed heavily and went down the hall to use the phone. At least this had the potential to solve some problems for him and the Boss. With the weather they'd been having, it was possible that the kid hadn't survived the night. He picked up the phone and began to make the necessary calls. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998, 6:30 am 348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis. Lois woke to an empty bed and frowned. She hated waking up alone; it was infinitely better to wake up with Clark than without him. She shut off the alarm quickly and began to get ready for work. She hurried through her preparations for the day, intent on getting some work done at the Planet before going to the coroner's office to get the autopsy reports. Lois hurried downstairs and, deciding to skip breakfast, grabbed her overcoat and threw it on, then snatched up her purse and briefcase. She headed out the door pausing momentarily to scan the vestibule. Lois dropped her briefcase and gasped in surprise when she spotted the ragged, filthy little girl curled up in a corner by the door. She quickly knelt beside the child and gently touched her arm. "Little one?" she said softly, trying not to startle the baby. "Mommy," the child answered sleepily. "My froat hurts." She looked up at Lois with glassy eyes. Lois caught the little girl's chin with one hand and examined the child's face. "Rachel?" she asked quietly. "Mommy," Rachel sobbed, still half-asleep. Lois laid her hand on the girl's forehead and frowned. It was obvious that she was feverish. She wasn't sure why the little girl was calling her 'Mommy', but decided she was probably delirious from the fever. Rachel's filthy pajamas were still wet and clung to her skin. Without further thought, she gathered the little girl in her arms and stood, then carried her small burden back into the house. Unsure what to do next, she grabbed the throw from the back of the couch and wrapped the little girl in it, then sat down heavily on the couch. Lois felt Rachel's forehead again and shivered. Just how was one supposed to treat a feverish five-year-old? She wished that they had bought a thermometer to replace the one that Clark had accidentally stepped on last week, but it hadn't really seemed necessary at the time. She briefly considered calling Clark, but this wasn't that big an emergency, and it would look more than a bit strange for Superman's cape to start ringing in the middle of a rescue. Lois thought back to her father's lectures, trying to think of something to help. Deciding that a warm bath and dry clothes might be in order, Lois carried Rachel upstairs, laid her on the bed, and went into the bathroom to run tepid water into the tub. Once it was half-full, she turned the water off and went to get Rachel. She stripped off the child's sodden pajamas and carried her into the bathroom, amazed that a child of five years weighed so little. Lowering her gently into the water, she began to wash off the dirt, grime, and blood, paying special attention to the scrapes and scratches that marred the girl's body. She winced in sympathy as she found the large, black and purple bruise on Rachel's stomach, the hand and finger marks around her arms, and the puffiness around her right eye. "That feels good, Mommy," Rachel whispered hoarsely. "I wanna go sleep, now." "In a few minutes, sweetie," Lois answered. She washed Rachel's hair gently before lifting her out of the tub and wrapping her in towels. She carried Rachel into the adjoining master bedroom to retrieve one of Clark's t- shirts, then took her into the guest room and placed her carefully on the bed. Lois slipped the shirt over the child's head and tucked her into bed. "There you go, Rachel. All safe and warm." "Mommy," the little girl said. "I don't feel good." "I know you don't, sweetheart," Lois answered, continuing to play along. "You go to sleep, baby. I'll call the doctor, okay?" "Okay, Mommy," Rachel answered. She rolled over and groped around the bed, searching for something. "Where's Amiee?" she asked, tears threatening. "I'll go get her," Lois promised, suddenly remembering the doll that the child had been holding. She winced at the thought of putting the filthy, wet toy into bed with the girl, but knew Rachel needed the comfort of a toy to cuddle. Suddenly, remembering the stuffed bear that Clark had won for her at the Smallville Corn Festival, Lois walked over to the closet and, reaching to the back of the shelf, grasped the stuffed animal by one fuzzy leg and pulled it down. As an afterthought, she retrieved the electric blanket as well, and carried both items back into the guest room. "Here you go, Rachel," Lois said softly as she placed the toy in Rachel's arms, praying that "Clarkie-bear" would be a suitable substitute. Lois tucked the blanket around Rachel, plugged it in, and turned it on its lowest setting. "Thank you, Mommy," Rachel sighed, turned over and stuck her thumb in her mouth. Lois gave the blankets one final pat before she headed downstairs. She was thankful that her father had relocated to Metropolis; Rachel needed to be examined, but the thought of enduring an endless wait in the Emergency Room while cradling an exhausted child was wholly unappealing. Besides, Rachel was probably only suffering from a simple fever and a cold. She knew she should call Family and Children services, but the offices didn't open until nine and that was more than an hour from now. She picked up the phone and began to dial the familiar number. "Daddy? This is Lois. I need your help--I found a patient for you; it's little Rachel Pierce. Yes. I know that I should take her to the hospital, but there are some circumstances. No, it's nothing illegal. Will you come? Thanks, Daddy! I'll see you in a few minutes." Lois sighed, hung up the phone, dialed another number, and got the machine. "Perry, this is Lois. An emergency's come up, and I won't be able to come in until later on today, if I manage to make in it at all. It has to do with the Pierce child. I'll be at home if you need to reach me." She hung up the phone, went back upstairs, and sat down beside Rachel's bed to watch over her as she slept. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998 7:00 am 836 Centennial Drive Apt 3B Sam hurriedly stuck some emergency medical supplies into his black doctor's bag and scrounged around for a piece of paper to jot a quick note to Ellen on. It had taken him almost two years before she had finally forgiven him... and agreed to marry him again. The last few years of their first marriage had been hellish, but he had been even more miserable without her. Baby Gunderson was the closest he had gotten after their divorce to having a serious relationship--and he didn't think that it could even be called a 'relationship' with an android. Baby Gunderson had really been a... science experiment, and science experiments couldn't love you back. Sam was thankful that his Ellen had taken him back; he knew he really didn't deserve her. He snatched a sheet of paper from the blotter on his desk and scribbled a note on it with the pen that lay on his bedside table. "Dear Ellen, Lois called and asked for help. I'll be at their brownstone if you need me. Love you--Sam" He placed the note prominently on the bedside table and, picking up his bag, headed for the door. Sam grabbed his heavy overcoat, tugged it on, went outside, and locked the front door behind him. He walked over to his car, unlocked it, tossed his bag inside, and climbed in. Sam was determined to help his daughter in whatever way she needed him. After all, it was a rare occasion that Lois ever asked for his help. He was aware of the fact that it was his fault; after all, he was the one who had hurt and betrayed her by his behavior. If he hadn't fallen into the infidelity trap, Lois might actually trust him more than she did. He just felt lucky that his princess was willing to give him a second chance-- Lucy wasn't able to do that yet. Sam had been a doctor not so long ago; he had helped heal an awful lot of people. It was long past the time for him to try and heal the fractures in his family; fractures that he had created. He had never meant for it to happen. He had never meant to destroy the family that had been so precious to him. It had crept up on him a little at a time. He had just wanted what was best for them; he wanted to provide the things for his children that his parents had never been able to afford. Sam started the car and began the short drive over to Lois's house, lost in thought. It hadn't taken long for him to start spending more and more time with his patients and away from home. After that, the women at work began to look better and better. After all, *they* appreciated him and how he saved lives while Ellen criticized him for not being there whenever he came home. His first affair followed. He had felt horribly guilty for it, and had promised himself and his wife while she was asleep that it would never happen again. Unfortunately, it had only gotten easier. He started showering at work and changing clothes so that she wouldn't notice other women's perfume on him. If she asked why he had showered before he came home, there was always the excuse that one of his patients had bled on him; it wasn't an uncommon occurrence, so Ellen hadn't questioned it. She had found out eventually, but she hadn't wanted to fully acknowledge it, so she started drinking. He felt partially responsible for her alcoholism, too. By the time he finally came to his senses, he had lost everything that was really important. In the past few years, he had regained some ground, but he wasn't sure if his family would ever manage to entirely forgive him. He pulled up in front of the brownstone, parked the car, climbed out, and walked up to the door. Sam rang the bell and waited quietly. He smiled when Lois answered the door. "Hi, Princess," he said quietly. "You said you had a patient for me?" "Thanks for coming, Daddy," Lois said. "Come in." She ushered him inside and shut the door. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998 8:00 am Daily Planet, Metropolis Clark walked into the newsroom, whistling. It had been a busy few hours between the five-car pile-up on the freeway and an electrical fire in a tenement across town. Luckily, he'd been able to get everyone out alive--this time. Some of the accident victims were in critical condition, but their prognosis looked good. He had also managed to get everyone out of the crumbling building before the fire spread too far. Clark glanced at Lois's desk and frowned. Her computer was off and her coffee mug empty, indicating she hadn't been in yet. It was unusual for his wife *not* to already be at her desk at this time of the morning--she should have been there, looking for information on the SIDS deaths story. After all, it was the best lead they'd had on a potentially big story for over a month. Mentally, Clark shrugged. Lois must have gotten a late start. It was unusual for her to sleep through the alarm clock, but it wasn't impossible. Besides, the Coroner's Office wouldn't open for at least another hour. Clark walked over to his desk, sat down, and booted up his computer. The Superman stories were destined for the middle of the paper somewhere--after all, without fatalities, Superman rescues were just part of another normal day in Metropolis. He typed them up quickly and LAN'ed them to Perry's office before logging onto the Planet's network to do some research on SIDS. He figured that it wouldn't hurt to read up on it a little bit and that he could assign Jimmy to do some more in-depth poking around. "Clark! In my office now!" Perry's voice called. Clark groaned softly; he had just found what looked to be a reputable source on the subject. "Coming," he said, getting up from his desk and heading over to Perry's office. He walked in the office and shut the door behind him. "Yes, Chief?" "Clark, I just got a message from Lois saying that she might not be coming in today because an emergency came up. I was hopin' that you'd know what was goin' on." Looking concerned, Perry stuffed his hands in his pockets. Clark stiffened, alarmed. "Perry, I don't know; have you tried calling her?" he asked, ready to spin into the Suit and bolt out the door. She hadn't gotten into trouble in quite some time, but with Lois, these things could change at the drop of a hat. For all he knew, she was currently dangling over a vat of hazardous chemicals somewhere or being held at gunpoint. He took some comfort in knowing that she hadn't called for him, but still... Clark made his decision. "Chief, I'm going to run home and check on her," he said worriedly. "You do that, son," Perry said, relief evident in his voice. "I'm worried about her, too." Clark nodded sharply, and sprinted towards the elevator. Perry watched him leave, relieved that Clark would be checking on the woman whom he considered to be a daughter. With Lois, you never knew what kind of trouble she was in. It was true that she'd been being more careful in the last year, but she could have gotten carjacked on the way to work and be in the hospital right now or being held at gunpoint somewhere for all he knew. That girl beat all for finding trouble. He smiled slightly. Lois had once claimed that she never went looking for trouble, and it wasn't her fault that it tended to find her, but he wasn't sure if he believed that. After all, even with her being more careful, she had been stabbed, shot at, and kidnapped in the past six months alone. The Planet was lucky that their insurance premiums hadn't gone up in the past few years from her medical bills alone! Perry sighed and turned back to Ralph's far-from- perfect copy that lay on his desk. He supposed it would do to keep his mind off of worrying about Lois. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998 8:00 am 348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis Sam packed up the last of his instruments and looked at Lois. "What are you going to do now, princess?" he asked softly. Lois sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I don't know. Children's Services opens in another hour and I can call them then." She reached down to push Rachel's hair out of her face. "Is she going to be all right, Daddy?" Lois asked. Sam nodded. "You did the right thing, princess. You managed to counteract the chill she got. The child still has a fever, but a little Children's Motrin(tm) should bring her temperature down quickly." He looked at the little girl and smiled. "She's a pretty little thing under all of those bruises," he murmured. "You said her name was Rachel?" At Lois's nod, he continued. "She's got different coloring, but she reminds me a little of you at that age." He sighed, leaned over, and kissed Rachel on the forehead. "How she got here, I don't know," Lois said. "She was supposed to be at Coates Orphanage. I guess we won't know what happened until she tells us, and Rachel's been pretty withdrawn since they found her on the streets last month." "So this is the little girl that you wrote those articles about?" Sam asked, surprised. "Yes. They haven't found a foster home placement for her yet, so she's been staying in the Early Childhood wing of Coates Orphanage. They're still gathering evidence on her stepfather, but she won't tell who was hurting her, so we can't know for sure. Rachel is the only witness and she hasn't told anyone." Lois tugged up the blankets and tucked them around the child. Sam frowned. "It's not fair," he grumbled. "I know I wasn't the best father in the world. Hell, I wish I could take a lot of what I did... or didn't do back, but I never laid a hand on you or Lucy." "Daddy..." Lois began. Then she simply shook her head and turned back to Rachel, fussing with the blankets. Sam walked over to his daughter and kissed her on the cheek sadly. He had lost so much--and it was his own fault. "I'll go get the medicine for Rachel," he said quietly. "You need to stay here in case she wakes up since she'll at least recognize you." "Okay, Daddy," Lois murmured. Sam looked at his little girl longingly before heading out the door and downstairs. This time he didn't intend to let his daughter down. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998, 8:15 am 348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis Clark landed on the back patio to their brownstone and spun back into his street clothes before entering the house, focusing on the comforting sound of Lois's heartbeat. He frowned; he could hear another heartbeat near hers. Something was wrong. Clark raced up the stairs and followed the sound into the guest room. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the small bundle beneath the blankets. A child slept in the big bed while Lois sat attentively by her side. "Lois?" he said softly, trying not to wake the little girl. Lois glanced over at Clark and smiled. "Hi," she said quietly. "I found her in our vestibule this morning on my way out," she explained, nodding in Rachel's direction. "Isn't that Rachel Pierce?" he asked, puzzled. He walked over to Lois and took her hand in his. "Yeah. I don't know how she ended up here," she said, "but Family and Children Services won't be open until 9, so I got her warm and put her to bed." Clark squeezed Lois's hand and gently reached over to brush a lock of tangled, but now clean, blonde hair out of Rachel's face. "Is she okay?" he asked softly. Lois stood and, leaning into Clark, buried her face in his shoulder. "Yes," she said, her voice muffled. She looked into his eyes for a minute, her fear for the child showing in her face. "I called Daddy after I put her to bed," she explained. "He said that she'll be okay, but he went to get some medicine for her." "Shouldn't we call Coates Orphanage?" he asked. "I bet they've discovered that she's missing by now, and someone will be there." "I don't think I want to do that." Lois began. "I know we can't just keep her, but she must have run away from there last night, so it can't be that good a place for a little girl. Danielle may have seemed happy, but it's obviously not the right place for Rachel. I just can't imagine the man we met back then having anything to do with hurting her--or even letting it happen. I have her social worker's office number, but Samantha Parker won't be in until 9. It's close to 8:30 now, so I'll call her in half an hour." Lois looked up at Clark, troubled. "You did the research on foster care, Clark. What's going to happen to Rachel?" "That's the problem," he said with a sigh, bringing his arms around Lois to hold her close. "Rachel is part of the Lost Generation. Unless she gets adopted, which isn't very likely at her age, she'll end up bouncing from foster home to foster home until her eighteenth birthday. After that, chances are that she'll end up at some minimum wage job for the rest of her life." "It's not fair," Lois muttered again. "I know," Clark said, tightening his arms around her. "Honey," he began slowly, "you were thinking about us trying to adopt again. Do you think we could request temporary custody of Rachel? Maybe we could even adopt her eventually," Clark suggested hopefully. Lois's face lit up. "Samantha *did* say that the Coates Orphanage was only temporary until they found foster parents for her, and I've been a foster parent before," she smiled. "It's possible that they'd let us!" ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998, 8:30 am CVS Pharmacy, Metropolis. Sam grabbed a bottle of Children's Motrin(tm) off the shelf and walked quickly over to the cash register. He needed to get the medicine into Rachel as soon as he could; her fever was higher than he liked in a child that age. It wasn't high enough to be warrant hospitalization, but he'd rest easier when his patient's temperature dropped into the normal range. When he returned to Lois's and Clark's brownstone, Rachel's flushed face and glassy, dark blue eyes reminded him of a certain set of brown eyes a long time ago. When Lois was Rachel's age, she had caught a bad case of the chicken pox and gotten a high fever. He had been away from home at a medical conference, and since it had only been chicken pox, Ellen hadn't worried too much. He had checked on Lois when he got home and discovered her rapidly escalating temperature. They had almost been too late to get his baby girl's fever down. He wouldn't have such a close call with Rachel. She wasn't his granddaughter or anything, but when she had opened her fever-brightened eyes and looked at him, he suddenly visualized Lois or Lucy in her place. His worst nightmare in the past had been arriving too late after one of his girls had been hurt and not being able to save them. He knew it was irrational, but he *was* still a doctor after all. It was his life's work to save lives and make them better. He poured out the dose in a baby medication spoon and carefully held it to the little girl's lips. "C'mon, sweetheart," he murmured. "This'll make you feel better." After he got the medicine into her, he noticed what was going on around him. His daughter was on her cellphone. Shamelessly, he listened to her end of the conversation. "Samantha, we found Rachel Pierce and she's with us right now. She must have run away from the orphanage last night. Yes, a doctor has checked her out--my father did it. Is there anywhere she needs to go, or can we leave her in bed? You need her to go to the hospital? Okay, Clark and I can take her there. Samantha, what's going to happen to Rachel? You don't know? Samantha, Clark and I would love to have her stay with us. Is it possible? It is? Oh, so we still have to take her to the hospital so you can have time to get the paperwork together and come and look at our house." Lois looked at her father and smiled, joy on her face. "How long will it be, Samantha? I know that you said that there's been a shortage of foster parents. *Only* a few days *if* we can get Judge Stephenson's approval? That's great! We'll see you at the hospital in a few minutes. Thanks! Bye." Lois closed the phone and looked at her father, a huge smile on her face. "Princess, did I hear that right?" he asked. "You and Clark are really going to try and be this little girl's foster parents?" "Yes, Daddy," Lois said, still smiling. "Clark and I talked about it--if everything works out, we'd like to adopt her." "Are you sure, princess?" Sam questioned. "I just want the best for you and Clark. You do realize that if a relative comes forward, you could lose this little girl?" "I know, Daddy," she said patiently. "But at least this way, Rachel will be safe." Lois leaned over the bed and wrapped Rachel in a blanket. She picked the little girl up and started toward the door. "I've got to get Rachel to the hospital for now--that was her social worker that I was talking to." With that, she headed out the door and started down the stairs. Sam stared after her and shook his head. This poor, homeless little girl could very well break his baby's heart. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 4 Thursday's Child ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ November 16, 1998, 9:30 am Metropolis General Hospital Samantha Parker, Rachel's social worker, was on her way to meet them at the hospital, and Lois paced anxiously back and forth in front the observation window as Dr. Jennifer Craine, the pediatrician on call, examined the little girl. Lois glanced at her watch again and shook her wrist, confirming that it hadn't stopped. She felt like she'd been waiting hours when in fact only a few minutes had passed. All she wanted to do was take Rachel home and get her settled in. Clark's alter ego had been called away at the last minute, so he was unable to wait there with her, but he had promised to return as soon as he cleared up the oil rig fire off the coast of Texas. Lois twisted her wedding ring around on her finger, worried about the little girl who lay just inside the next room. From her stories on the Foster Care System, she knew that she and Clark would have to apply for a license to become eligible foster parents, but she had no idea how long the application process might take. Perhaps, due to the emergency nature of the situation, someone could push through their application so that they could take Rachel home with them within the next few days. Someone tapped her on the shoulder. "Ms. Lane?" Lois turned to see the now familiar face of Samantha Parker. Samantha tugged down her long sweater and pulled her purse back up on her shoulder. "Has the doctor told you anything yet, Ms. Lane?" she asked briskly, pushing her glasses back up her nose. "Not yet," Lois said softly, biting her lower lip nervously. "My father said that she'd be okay...." She trailed off, looking worriedly through the observation window. With visible effort, Lois pulled herself together and looked at Samantha. "Samantha, how soon can we take her home? I know you said a few days, but Clark and I would like a definite timeline." Samantha fiddled with her necklace and glanced around the hallway. "Ms. Lane, where is your husband anyway? I need to know that he's willing to be involved if I'm to recommend that Rachel be placed with you; and I've yet to meet him," she said, a determined look on her face. "Sam, my husband was called away on a last minute emergency, but he promised to be here as soon as possible." Lois glanced back to where Rachel lay. "Are you sure, Ms. Lane, that both you and your husband are willing to adjust your lives around this little girl?" Sam asked. "You have no other children, and while our records show that you were a foster parent for a brief period of time, neither of you seem to have had much experience with active five year olds." Samantha gave Lois a searching look. "Rachel is going to need more attention than most children her age because of what she's been through; I just need to make sure that you're aware of what you're getting into before I go before the judge and make a recommendation." Lois took a deep breath. "Samantha, Clark and I have been trying for some time to conceive a child of our own. Unfortunately, the doctors have assured us that that is very unlikely to happen. You're correct that Clark hasn't yet had an opportunity to bond with Rachel, but I promise you there isn't a man alive more compassionate or caring than my husband. It was Clark's idea that we become foster parents for Rachel, and I assure you, we will do everything in our power to make her feel happy and safe. We are aware that Rachel's traumatic past may cause some difficulties, but Clark and I are both prepared to help her work through these issues and become a well-adjusted little girl. We will accomplish this be providing her with what she needs more than anything in the world. We will love her." Lois crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Samantha before glancing back at the children's ward. Samantha laid her hand on Lois's arm. "Ms. Lane," she began softly, "I just want to make sure that your home is the right place for Rachel. It's my job to make a recommendation to the judge that I believe will in the best interest of the child. I still have concerns about your career--you seem to place yourself in danger quite a bit, and that worries me," she drew in a deep breath. "If Rachel is, even temporarily, placed with you, I need to make sure that you'll be there for her, and not kidnapped or even killed by the latest criminal to show up in Metropolis." Lois leaned back against the wall and smiled slightly, trying hard to reign in of her temper. "I understand your concern, Ms. Parker," she said softly. "But you have to see where I'm coming from. I haven't required rescue for six months, and I'll certainly take pains not to place myself in any danger when I have a child at home." She ran a hand through her hair. "I promise you that Rachel will be safe with us and that we can give her what she needs: a safe, stable, and loving environment." Lois shot a glance back at Rachel's room again. "We want her, Ms. Parker; we *want* her." Samantha began to smile. "I still need to meet your husband, and see your home, but I'm beginning to think that this might work. We can try a two-week trial period at first, to see if this could be a long-term arrangement while we try to track down some of Rachel's relatives." She tugged at the hem of her sweater again. "Ms. Lane, are you aware of Rachel's aversion to men? I'm afraid that her abuse at the hands of her stepfather has caused her to be terrified of males. It's as if she expects them to hit her or yell at her. This will make a difficult adjustment period for your husband." Lois smiled, happy that things seemed to be going her way. She was nervous about Rachel coming to live with them, but she had fallen in love with the little girl at almost first glance--she would be coming home, where she belonged. "Samantha, if anyone can gain Rachel's trust, Clark can. He's the gentlest man I know, and he's a natural with children." Lois's face took on a wistful appearance as she thought longingly of a child to complete their family. She prayed Rachel could be that child. She couldn't deny the fact that, like most couples, they would have enjoyed cuddling a baby. But, on the bright side, by adopting an older child, they didn't have to change diapers or worry about bottles. In any event, there was still a possibility, however slim, that she and Clark could one day conceive naturally, and if such a miracle did occur, she and Clark could change diapers to their heart's content. Her goal right now was to provide a safe and loving home for Rachel. "I promise you, Samantha, that if you place Rachel Pierce with us, you won't be making a mistake." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998, 9:45 am Metropolis General Hospital Children's Ward Rachel opened her eyes and looked around the cheerful room. Painted clowns and cartoon characters cavorted on the brightly-painted walls and a large, opened toy box sat in the corner, out of the way of the other three beds in the room. The last thing she remembered was opening her eyes as the pretty lady carried her out to a big, silver car. Dimly, she remembered a man with Ms. Lane, who'd left quickly, tugging at his tie. Rachel turned over in bed, relishing the memories of being held in Ms. Lane's arms. She couldn't remember ever feeling as safe as she had felt there. Her hand came in contact with a warm, fuzzy object and, startled, she looked down. Frowning slightly, she pulled a black and white teddy bear from beneath the covers. She had no recollection of the new toy, and wondered if Ms. Lane had given it to her. She missed Aimee, and hoped she could be reunited with her favorite doll, but the handsome bear was a suitable substitute. Rachel buried her face in the bear's soft fur and hugged it close to her, then dropped a kiss on its fuzzy snout. With a soft sigh, she settled back into the pillows. Lulled by the warmth of the room and the blankets in which she was cocooned, her eyes began to slide shut. "Rachel?" She felt a hand stroke her hair. She sleepily cracked open her eyes to see the doctor who had taken care of her before. "Dr. Jennifer?" she said hesitantly. "Yes, Rachel," Dr. Craine answered softly. "It's me. Sweetheart, how did you get those bruises?" Rachel pulled away from the doctor's hands fearfully. "I promised not to tell," she muttered. Dr. Craine sat on the side of Rachel's bed. "It's okay, honey. The person who hurt you can't get you here. You can tell me how this happened." Rachel looked at the doctor, hope in her big, dark blue eyes. "He can't get me?" "No, sweetie. Can you tell me who did this to you?" Dr. Craine asked, reaching out to stroke Rachel's hair gently. "I don't know his name," Rachel answered hesitantly. "He hit me in my face an' my tummy. And his friend held me so tight that I got his handprints on me.Then his friend told me that if I tattled he'd *really* hurt me." Her lip began to quiver and tears filled her eyes. "He said he'd hurt me badder than Papa Gary did." "Where was this, Rachel?" Dr. Craine asked softly. "At the Orp'ange," Rachel answered. "Thank you, sweetie," Dr. Craine said softly, reaching over to pull the blankets up around Rachel. "Get some sleep, little one." Rachel looked at the pediatrician, worried. "Dr. Jennifer? What's gonna happen to me?" she asked as a single tear rolled down her face. "I don't know, sweetheart," Dr. Craine answered honestly. "But I do know that your social worker is going to do her best to make sure you're safe and have somebody to take care of you." She tucked in the blankets tightly around the child. Rachel buried her face in the teddy bear and sniffed. She doubted that things would get better--they rarely did. It was still up to her to take care of herself. Aimee and the teddy bear were her family, now. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998, 10:00 am Metropolis General Hospital Clark strode into the hospital and hurried to the Children's Ward. He was late--minor Superman duties had kept him occupied while Lois had taken Rachel to the hospital and had gotten her admitted. He brightened as he saw Lois and an older woman who he assumed was Rachel's case worker. He walked up to them quietly and held out his hand to the woman. "You must be Samantha Parker, Rachel's case worker. My name is Clark Kent," he said, introducing himself. "Mr. Kent," Samantha acknowledged, reaching out to shake his hand. "Your wife has told me that you want to become Rachel Pierce's foster parents?" she said. "Might I ask why, exactly?" Clark smiled slowly, giving her one of his thousand-mega watt smiles. "Ms. Parker," he began. "Please," she interrupted, "call me Samantha or Sam." "Samantha," he continued, "we just want to give Rachel a home where she can be safe." Clark paused for a minute, choosing his words carefully. "I was adopted as a baby," he said slowly, "and Rachel's situation could have very well been my own had circumstances been different." Clark looked at her earnestly. "I--we, just want to help. My wife says that Rachel is a sweet little girl, and Superman has said the same thing." "But why Rachel?" Samantha asked probingly. "Because," Lois offered, "Rachel has been living in her own private hell since her mother died." "Yes, and it's long past time that someone stepped in to rescue her," Clark added. "Judging from the bruises on her face, sending her to Coates Orphanage wasn't the best decision," he said. "And returning her there is unthinkable." Samantha nodded slowly. "We don't get many like you," she said softly. "Many people become foster parents for the money that the state pays them for keeping the children-- not to rescue them from bad situations. Mr. and Mrs. Kent, I still need to visit your home, but I'm sure that we can get you licensed for foster care quickly." She smiled broadly. "And as soon as we see Judge Stephenson, I think we can get Rachel placed in your home. When would be the best time for me to come by to look at your house?" she asked. "Perry probably won't mind us leaving work early since news has been slow lately," Lois said quietly. "How does four this afternoon sound?" "Perfect," Samantha answered. "I need to go talk to Dr. Craine, so I'll see you at four." She picked up her large, canvas purse and walked quickly into Rachel's room. Clark reached for Lois's hand. "C'mon, honey. I called Perry and told him what was going on; he was worried sick!" He smiled at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. "He'd just about decided that you'd been following a lead and gotten dragged away to Luthor's secret hideout or that Jefferson Cole had broken out of prison again and decided to go after you directly." Lois chuckled. "And if that happened, you'd be the first one I'd call," she said with a slight smile. "Let's go see if Jimmy has the information on the SIDS death cases so we can get off early." Lois shot one last glance back at Rachel's room before heading toward the door. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998, 11:30 am Daily Planet, Metropolis Lois strode over to Clark's desk, leaned over his shoulder, and peered at his computer screen. "Found anything?" she asked. "Not much," he said with a sigh. "I found out more about SIDS, but I can find no logical explanation for the sudden rash of infant deaths here in Metropolis." Lois smiled. "Spill it, buster. I'll tell you what I found out if you tell me what you learned." She perched on the edge of his desk, crossed her legs, and looked at Clark expectantly. Not able to resist her very tempting presence, he pushed himself up a bit to kiss her briefly. Clark broke off the kiss, reached for his notes, and sighed. "I didn't find out much; SIDS seems to be the catchall phrase for any unexplained infant death." He slid his pencil back and forth between his fingers absently, tapping it on the desk. "From what I could find, any time an apparently healthy infant dies in its sleep, and the autopsy and the medical background doesn't turn up anything suspicious, the cause of death is listed as SIDS," Clark finished. "Interesting," Lois said softly, looking at her own pad of notes. "According to the ME's reports, the cause of death was SIDS, but a full autopsy was never performed on any of the children." She sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I guess they were trying to cut costs--they just drew some blood and did an external examination." She frowned briefly before continuing. "The funny thing is, the same ME autopsied all of the children, and then they were all sent to the paupers' section of the graveyard for internment. None of them seemed to have had relatives, and all of the children had undergone thorough medical checkups, including shots, within 48 hours prior to their deaths." Clark whistled softly. "That has to be more than a coincidence," he said. "I've got a contact in the Department of Family and Children Services whom I can call to see if we can pull records on the kids." "But aren't their records sealed?" Lois asked. "Normally, they would be," Clark admitted, "but with the children all having died, their cases are a matter of public record. I'll talk to Monique about it and see if I can get some specifics on the infants, but in the meantime..." He looked around until he found who he needed. "*Jimmy*," he called. Jimmy trotted over. "What's up, CK?" he asked. "Jimmy, I need you to hack into Family and Children's Services computers and see what you can find out about any children who died in the past year where the cause of death has been reported as Sudden Infant Death Syndrome," Clark said. "I'm on it, CK," Jimmy replied and sped away. Lois smiled at her husband teasingly. "Monique, huh? Do I need to be jealous?" Clark grinned, stood up, and slipped his arms around her. "Not unless you want to be jealous of a gray-haired, elderly lady who wants to take me home and fatten me up," he said before leaning down to kiss her. Just before their lips touched, they were interrupted by Perry's voice. "Lois, Clark. By the King, I don't pay you to stand around entertaining the newsroom! Have y'all made any progress in the SIDS story?" The amorous couple turned to find that their boss had walked up behind them while they were... occupied. "Working on it, chief," Clark replied, as he turned to face him, his arm still around Lois. "Don't just work on it," Perry said gruffly. "News has been so slow lately that we need this story. The pressure is building from the suits upstairs, but since all we've had to report lately is the next cold front, we need this story fast. Get to it! If my two best reporters can't find something, nobody can." Perry turned and stalked back into his office. Clark sighed and released Lois reluctantly. "I'd better make that phone call," he said, reaching over to pick up the phone. "And I'd better get back to my school board story," Lois said, sliding off the desk. "If we don't get a big story soon," she grumbled, "Perry's gonna have us reporting dog shows." Lois shook her head and headed back over to her desk. Clark watched her go before he flipped through his rolodex for the correct number. As she had taught him a long time ago, you were only as good as your last story, and their last story was chicken feed compared to the lead they were working on now. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 2003, 12 noon Metropolis General Hospital Children's Ward Rachel lay in bed, cuddling the teddy bear that she had found next to her. Finders, keepers, she thought possessively. She held the bear's nose up to her own and looked at it with her eyes crossed. "You're *mine* now, Mr. Bear," she whispered softly. She pulled the bear away from her face and sat it on her lap. "You look like a... CJ," she decided, naming her new friend after a little boy who had been nice to her at school. After all, he was the only person who had even tried to talk to her there; the rest of the kids thought she was weird and teased her. In fact, CJ was the only little boy who had ever been nice to her at all--even her little brother wasn't very nice to her. And the bear looked like a boy to her. She vaguely remembered hearing C.J. mention in "show and tell" that he'd been named after the Daily Planet reporter who was Superman's best friend, but that didn't matter. Superman was a grown-up, too, and not to be trusted. He wouldn't take care of her. Nobody would. She remembered seeing Ms. Lane looking in the window, but she hadn't come in, so there was no hope there. Rachel frowned and pulled CJ-bear close to her. Briefly, she wished for Aimee, but her baby had been whisked away with the appearance of CJ. It was just one more loss she had suffered in a very long list. She should have never asked for the doll--she had known better than to show it any love when she lived with Papa Gary, anyway. Any toy she had shown love for had been unceremoniously torn limb from limb and then burned in front of her. She had never dared to cuddle Aimee when Papa Gary was watching. The only place that had been safe to hug her toy had been under the blankets of her bed. Rachel sighed and stroked CJ's soft fur. Her head shot up as someone she recognized entered the room bearing a tray; it was Samantha. Rachel shrank away from her--this was the same person who'd promised that she'd be safe in the orphanage. She wasn't safe. Perhaps she'd never be. Grown-ups were nothing but trouble. "Rachel?" Sam said softly, placing the loaded tray on the bed table and swinging it around. "I brought your lunch. Sweetie, Dr. Jennifer wants you to stay in bed until tomorrow just to make sure that your fever doesn't come back." Rachel scooted further back into her pillows, refusing to look at Samantha. "Rachel?" Sam tried again to get the child's attention. Stubbornly, Rachel pulled the blankets over her head and refused to talk. Samantha laid her hand on the bump under the covers that was Rachel's head. "Rachel, sweetie, I know that you don't have any reason to trust me right now, but I promise that things are going to be okay." Samantha stroked the small body beneath the blankets. "I think I found you a set of foster parents today, honey. I'm going to see their house this afternoon, and then go talk to the judge. Rachel, if everything works out, you'll be out of this hospital and home with your foster family by this time tomorrow." Rachel peeked out from beneath the blankets. "Who are they?" she whispered. "The Kents, sweetie. You've met Mrs. Kent--she was going by her professional name at the time, though. She's Ms. Lane," Samantha answered. "Ms. Lane wants me to come and live with her?" Rachel asked softly, pulling the covers the rest of the way down. "Yes, she does, Rachel--very much. Her husband wants you there, too." Mistrust glimmered in Rachel's eyes at the mention of Ms. Lane's husband. She trusted Ms. Lane, but her husband was a different matter entirely. He was a man and a grown-up. She thought that he'd probably hurt her eventually. All men hurt her. Samantha saw the fear and mistrust in Rachel's eyes and moved to comfort her. "Rachel, I've met Mr. Kent, and I know he wouldn't hurt you, if that's what you're thinking." She paused for a minute. "Do you think you could give living with them a try?" she asked softly. Rachel nodded hesitantly. If Ms. Lane really wanted her, perhaps she'd make sure that Mr. Kent wouldn't hurt her. And then there was the appeal of a real home. Perhaps it wouldn't be hers, but it was *somebody's* home--and they wanted her to live in it with them. "Get some sleep, sweetie," Samantha advised. "I've got to go get the paperwork together and then go see the Kents' house. It'll be okay, Rachel. I promise." Samantha stood and left the room, closing the door quietly closed behind her. Rachel cuddled CJ under her chin, and let herself believe that things just might get better. If the Kents wanted her, maybe they'd want her forever and their home could be her home, too. She'd heard the kids in the orphanage talking about the possibility of adoption, and the concept of having a family pick her to be their little girl was intriguing. Maybe she would finally have a home with both a mommy and daddy who loved her. Then again, maybe not. She'd seen kids go to foster families, only to come back in a few days or weeks, disappointed. It could happen to her. Maybe the Kents wouldn't want her forever. Rachel rubbed her cheek against the bear and frowned. Perhaps it would be better if she didn't expect too much. Papa Gary had always told her that if she didn't expect anything, then she couldn't be upset when she didn't get her way. Maybe his way was best after all. With that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and began to dream of a future with Ms. Lane as her mommy. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 16, 1998 4:00 p.m. 348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis Samantha took one last look around the house and pointed out one last safety concern. "Ms. Lane, Mr. Kent, frankly, I don't see many problems here. Rachel is a bit too old to be sticking things into electrical sockets, but I'd like you to put the child covers on them just to be sure." She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a sheaf of papers. "I just need your signatures on these papers, and I'll be through here." "Does that mean that we get Rachel tonight?" Lois asked, biting her lip nervously. "I'm afraid not, Ms. Lane. I still have to get approval from a family court judge, but there shouldn't be any problems there, either. It's usually a long wait on the docket, but due to the fact that this is an emergency situation, the judge will be hearing this case first thing in the morning, and I can't see any reason why she would refuse." Samantha watched as first Clark, then Lois signed the necessary paperwork for their new foster care license which would allow them to care for a foster child in their home. The papers would let them to take temporary custody of Rachel, while the state would remain being her legal guardian. "Once you take custody of Rachel," Samantha began, "you will receive a monthly stipend for her support, and of course, she has medical insurance through us," Samantha explained. "Samantha, is there any chance that we could eventually adopt her?" Clark asked quietly. "Don't go there, Mr. Kent," Samantha warned. "It's in direct violation of the foster care agreement that you just signed, and if you violate that agreement at any time, Rachel can be pulled from your care." Samantha sighed and fiddled with the hem of her sweater. "Let's just go with what we have." She gave them a small smile. "If you still want to adopt her in a month or so and we haven't found any relatives willing to take her, we'll talk about it then, okay?" She took the papers from them and stuffed them back in her briefcase. "I'll call as soon as I have news, and if it's good, I'll bring Rachel by tomorrow around noon." "Thank you, Samantha," Lois said quietly. Clark shook Samantha's hand and escorted her towards the door. As the door closed behind her, Clark turned to face his wife. "Are you okay, honey?" he asked softly. "Your heart is going 260--what's the matter?" "It's just that now we're actually going to get Rachel, I'm starting to get nervous. What are we going to do about Superman? Until we know that we can keep her permanently, she can't know the secret. How are we going to handle that? And then there's the fact that I've never had a five year old around before and there's bedtimes and play dates and we don't have anything for her bedroom yet." Lois appeared panic-stricken. "And I bet she needs clothes and toys... and then there's the issue of new furniture for her bedroom..." Clark walked over to her and stopped her babbling the best way he knew how. He kissed her. After several pleasurable moments, he slowly lifted his head and lightly rubbed his hands up and down her arms. "We'll figure it all out, honey," he said softly. "She just needs lots of love right now, and we can provide that. As for Superman, well, we'll just have to be careful--he won't be making many appearances in the house while she's here." He frowned thoughtfully. "You'll have to remind me to use potholders when Rachel's nearby. I might forget otherwise." Clark wrapped his arms around Lois, holding her close, and smiled as she brought her arms up around him. "At least this time, you won't be trying to do it alone," he said with a grin. "You're right," she said softly. "We're in this together." Lois tugged his head down to hers and kissed him lingeringly. "Together," came his soft whisper between kisses as he began to back towards the stairs. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 17, 1998 11:00 am Metropolis County Courthouse (AKA Hall of Justice) Samantha Parker sat quietly on a bench outside the courtroom, waiting for her charge's case to be called. While you couldn't always tell with people's reputations-- Lex Luthor was a prime example of that--she felt confident that the Kents' sterling reputation was based solely on the truth. She was sure that placing Rachel with them was a good idea. She'd been a social worker for twenty years and despite her best intentions, had occasionally failed some of her charges. She wasn't going to fail Rachel again. The child deserved better. All the children deserved better than the hand they'd been dealt. She glanced at her watch, and, noting the time, gathered her things. She walked resolutely into the courtroom. It wasn't more than a minute or two before Rachel's case was called. She presented her paperwork to the judge, who spent no more than a few minutes reviewing her recommendation before signing the order placing Rachel in the Kents' temporary custody. Samantha sighed in relief as the clerk took the papers off to be photocopied. He returned them quickly, and she slid them into her briefcase. Later, she would have them filed at the office. It was just another day in Family Court. With a polite thank you, Samantha headed out of the courthouse and got into her old, beat-up car. She drove over to the hospital and checked Rachel out, thankful that she had remembered to pick up the child's things from Coates Orphanage early that morning. Quickly she led the girl out to her car and buckled her into the back seat of the vehicle. "Rachel, are you ready to meet your new foster parents?" she asked quietly. Rachel nodded shyly and clutched her teddy bear closer to her chest for comfort. Samantha sighed and walked around the car to climb in behind the wheel. She wished that Rachel would talk more, but knew that it would come in time. She checked the address again and drove over to the Kents' house. Samantha helped Rachel get out of the car and, gathering her few belongings out of the back, the pair headed up the steps of the Kents' brownstone. She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 17, 1998, 11:45 am 348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis Lois paced back and forth in the living room, straightening a picture here and fluffing a pillow there. Despite their conversation the night before, she was still a nervous wreck. It didn't help that both her parents had called to ask if she was sure about taking Rachel into their home. Her mother had even shared a couple of horror stories of things that foster children sometimes did. She walked over to her fish tank and fed the fish, then considered watering the plants. It was something that Clark usually did, as he was the only one who seemed to be able to remember the task, but she needed to do *something* to keep from going crazy from sheer nerves. She walked over to the bookcase and pushed a book in place. Finally giving up, she began to pace again. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the doorbell rang. She hurried over to the door and, after looking through the peephole, opened it. She took Rachel's bag from Samantha before holding her hand out to the child. "Hi, Rachel," she said softly. "My husband, Clark, had to work, but you'll get to meet him a little later when we visit the Planet's daycare center to get you enrolled in their after school program." Rachel looked up at her and smiled tentatively. "Are you really going to be my foster mommy?" she asked in a barely audible voice. "Yes, I am, sweetheart," Lois replied. Rachel dropped her bear to throw her arms around Lois's legs. "Thank you," the child whispered. Lois looked startled for a minute before reaching down to stroke the child's hair. "You're welcome, sweetie," she said softly. "We're very glad to have you here, Rachel." Samantha cleared her throat. "Ms. Lane, please remember Rachel's sessions with the art therapist twice a week. We'll see if we can't get her to come to the school. You also need to remember to get Rachel enrolled in school by tomorrow at the latest." She held out her hand, which Lois grasped and shook firmly. "Thank you, Samantha," she said softly. Samantha simply smiled and left, leaving Rachel and Lois together. Lois looked down at Rachel and smiled. She dropped to her knees, grabbed the freshly-washed Aimee from a nearby chair, and handed it to the little girl. Taking a deep breath, she asked, "So, Rachel--would you like to go shopping for stuff for your new room?" "I'd like that, Ms. Lane," Rachel whispered as she smiled at the doll in her arms. "Thank you for giving Aimee back." "You're welcome, sweetie," Lois said, reaching out to brush some of Rachel's hair back. "We're glad you're home." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 5 Friday's Child ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ November 21, 1998, 10:00 am 348 Hyperion Avenue Rachel sat on her new bed and surveyed her surroundings. This was, by far, the nicest room she'd ever lived in. It was even prettier than her room in Papa Gary's house. The Kents were being nice to her, but she was sure it wouldn't last. After all, the people at the orphanage had been nice to her, at first. Rachel was sure it was only a matter of time before Mr. Kent hit her like the man at the orphanage and Papa Gary did. Nothing good could last, she was sure of that. Mr. Kent's behavior was strange--it was as if he were different than Papa Gary. In her experience, however, all men were the same. They yelled, they hit, and they hurt. Mr. Kent was nice to her and to Ms. Lane. It was weird to see him kissing Ms. Lane and her acting as if she *liked* it. She remembered watching Papa Gary kissing her nanny and her nanny saying no. Rachel sighed and wondered what she should do. She had been left with Mr. Kent for the day while Ms. Lane was at work. She had overheard them talking about how their days off that week didn't coincide, and how it was probably a good thing since she was only on the waiting list for the Planet's daycare center and they hadn't found a good babysitter yet. Since they were alone, perhaps he would start to hit her today, she thought. Rachel bit her lip and a frown crossed her small face. Papa Gary had always hit her harder and more often when she had done something in particular to annoy him. Perhaps she should do something to set him off--after all, she didn't want to get too comfortable in this nice house. She stood, grabbed CJ and Amiee from the bed behind her, and went downstairs. She set her toys on a chair where they could watch as she pulled a book from the shelf, rifled though it and then tossed it on the floor. Rachel stared at the book for a moment. "If I did that at Papa Gary's house, he'd hurt me," she whispered. "He'd hurt me for *nothing*." She grabbed another book and hurled it to the floor. "Take *that*, Papa Gary," she muttered, grabbing another book. It didn't take long for the bookcase to get emptied as high as she could reach. She stared at the scattered books, then deliberately trod on the spines of them to walk over to the couch. She pulled off the cushions and threw them to the floor before she climbed onto the cushion-less sofa. She stood at the back and jumped up and down a few times as hard as she could before putting her foot on the back. Determinedly, she pushed against it before it fell to the floor with a loud crash. She jumped off the fallen furniture and began to turn over as much stuff as her five- year-old frame could handle. She surveyed the mess and pictured Papa Gary's house looking that way. It was good, but not enough. She moved over to a display case and, opening it, pulled out some awards and hurled them at the books with a grunt of effort. She grabbed a book from the floor and glared at it; this one had to be Papa Gary's favorite because it was the same color. She ran over to the large fish tank and threw it in. Winded, Rachel gathered CJ and Aimee to her and looked at her work, finally satisfied. *This* should do it, she thought desperately. *This* should bring normality to her small world. Mr. Kent was like Papa Gary and the men at the orphanage--he *had* to be. Otherwise, her world was changed, skewed, and strange. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Clark heard the crashes coming from downstairs and sighed. Quickly, he x-rayed the floor to find that Rachel was determinedly destroying the living room. He picked up a book on parenting and read it at superspeed. He should have expected something like this, he thought. She was testing him. He supposed that he should go down there, but he wasn't sure quite what to do. Rachel hadn't had the best beginning, and she'd been treated pretty badly by every male caregiver she'd ever had, Clark thought. He knew there had to be a fair amount of anger at the terrible treatment she'd received pent up inside her tiny frame -- he'd overheard her furiously mumbling about 'Papa Gary'. So now he knew he needed to be really calm about the whole situation and be nice to her despite the fact that she was doing something that she probably knew that she shouldn't. If he weren't as kind and gentle as he knew how to be, it could make her afraid of him, and that was the last thing they needed to happen. Clark sighed and ran his hand through his hair before walking slowly out of the bedroom and downstairs. Inwardly he grimaced as he caught sight of Rachel--she was sitting on a pile of heaped-up books, holding her favorite toys, and smiling to herself. For one small girl, she'd managed to inflict quite a bit of chaos on the once orderly room. "Rachel," he called softly, catching her attention. She stood up and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. "What?" she asked sullenly. "Rachel Elizabeth K--Pierce," he began, trying not to sound as if he were scolding. "Why did you decide to destroy the living room? I know you've been taught better--so you're going to help me clean it up," he finished. Rachel's face took on a stubborn look that he knew all too well from Lois. "No," she said, hugging the bear he'd won for Lois at their first Corn Festival and her doll close to her. Clark sighed and put his hands on his hips; he definitely had his hands full with his two girls. "*Rachel*, if you're not going to help clean up the mess you made, then go to your room, *now*," he ordered gently, pointing toward the stairs. Rachel glared at him for a moment before turning and stomping up the stairs, slamming the door of her room behind her. Clark sighed and began to pick up the room at normal speed. He missed using his powers around the house, but until Rachel was really theirs, he couldn't risk having her find out. Clark hoped that this would be the last such test of him, but from what he'd read, he knew that it was likely that there would be more. Rachel was trying to make him lose his temper now, just to prove to herself that her experiences weren't anomalies. Unconsciously, he began to smile as he thought about the little girl. It had been so easy to love her--he just hoped that she'd love him back as her daddy one day. He hadn't wanted anyone to love him this badly since he had met Lois. Luckily, he'd had experience in this kind of thing. He'd talked to his parents, and they had counseled patience, so that's what he was trying. Hopefully, she'd learn to trust him quickly--and maybe even learn to love him at the same time. She had insinuated herself into his heart faster than he had thought was possible. In some ways, she was like Lois had been when he first met her. Little Rachel was determined that she could take care of herself--that she didn't need anyone else at all. Clark smiled. He finished replacing the books and their Kerth awards before turning to right the furniture and replace cushions back on it. Clark winced as he heard noises coming from Rachel's room that meant that she was wrecking it, too. So much for hoping that his would be her last test of him. A small smile crossed his face as he decided to do the unexpected. He climbed the stairs, knocked on her door, entered the room and surveyed the damage. Rachel had pulled all of her new toys out of the toy box and thrown them carelessly around the room. The drawers to the dresser were opened and her clothes were strewn around the space in crumpled heaps. Somehow, Rachel had managed to pull the mattress from the bed, and the blankets and bedding were heaped in a pile in the middle of the floor where Rachel sat. "Well," Clark said and paused. "I'm not sure I like the new decor, but it's *your* room, so until you decide to change it, it stays this way." Clark almost laughed at the shocked look on the child's face, but managed not to. "I'll be in the living room if you need me, peanut," he said gently before turning to leave. Just before he opened the door, Rachel spoke. "Mr. Kent?" she asked softly. Clark turned back towards her and dropped to his knees so that he was at her level. "What is it, Rachel?" he asked softly. "Why didn't you hit me?" she asked. "Papa Gary would have- -so would those men at the Orp'anage." "Rachel," he began, "you didn't deserve it then, and you don't now. I'm not going to ever hit you, not now, not ever. Sweetie--real men don't beat up little kids because they get mad." "Really?" she asked in a small voice. "But sometimes grown-ups lie." "That's true," he answered, "but I won't lie to you, Rachel. Superman's my best friend and *he* doesn't lie to people--I don't either." Clark said, hoping that she'd at least trust Superman. Most people did, after all. Rachel buried her face in CJ's fur. "Don't like him," she whispered, the sound muffled by the bear's fur. "Why don't you like him, peanut?" Clark asked. "He's scary," the child replied. "He's big, an' real, real strong. He could hurt me." "Rachel, he'd never hurt you--Superman just puts bad people in jail," Clark explained. "Then he's gonna come and put me in jail and hurt me," she insisted. "I'm bad. Papa Gary and the others hurt me 'cause I'm bad." She jumped up and ran to the corner. Rachel sat down and began to rock back and forth. "I'm bad," she whispered. "I'm a bad girl, just like Mommy. Papa Gary says I'm goin' to hell, 'cause I'm bad." The rocking got fiercer. Fearing that Rachel would hurt herself and start to bang against the walls, Clark stood, walked over, and tried to pick her up. She shrunk from him and continued to rock. Moving just shy of super speed, Clark gathered Rachel into his arms and walked over to the rocking chair. He set it upright and sat down, ignoring Rachel's struggles. "No!" she cried and struggled, trying to get free. Clark held her gently and began to rock back and forth, rubbing Rachel's back soothingly, the same way he had seen Lois do it the night before. "It's okay, peanut," he said softly. He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing, but he had decided to just try and do what came naturally. It hurt to see this little girl in so much pain and not do anything about it. He knew that she didn't trust him, and he didn't really blame her, but he couldn't just let her hurt either. He wanted to make it better. Clark wished that he could fix it with a slice of pie and some buttermilk, the way his mom had fixed what was wrong in his world when he was little, but he knew better. Rachel was suffering from far worse problems than he had ever faced as a child. As she finally relaxed against him and began to cry, he was suddenly even more grateful to his parents for taking in a little orphaned space baby. He had been lucky. Of all the couples in the world who could have found him, it had been Martha and Jonathan Kent--people who had raised him with love, not abuse. Finally, he heard Rachel's slightly muffled voice from where her face was buried in his chest. "You won't hit me?" she asked softly. "No matter how bad I am?" "Rachel, I won't *ever* hit you--and you're not bad," he replied. "Never, ever?" she asked softly. "Never, ever," he affirmed. Clark continued rocking and soon, Rachel relaxed into sleep, the morning's events having worn her out. He stood, laid her on the window seat, and covered her with one of his mother's afghans while he pulled the mattress back on the bed. Quickly, he grabbed the bedding and re-made it before picking Rachel up and tucking her into bed. "I love you, Rachel," he whispered to the sleeping child. Clark leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, then went and turned off the lights in the bedroom. He left the door cracked slightly behind him as he started downstairs. If she needed him, he would be able to hear her, and perhaps a nap would do her good. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ November 21, 1998 1:00 p.m. Daily Planet, Metropolis Lois sat at her computer, typing away at her story on the school board scandal. The School Board president had been caught having an affair with one of the students from the local high school--and she wasn't his first indiscretion. This was normally the kind of story that Ralph would love to write about, but after discovering the School Board president's long history of extra-curricular activities with the teenagers, Perry had assigned her and Clark to try and root out the problem. The man was currently facing ten counts of statutory rape and had resigned from the school board. That, along with other allegations of misconduct and the misappropriation of funds was more than enough to warrant a Lane and Kent investigation. Lois looked across the aisle at Clark's empty desk and sighed. It was rare that their days off didn't fall on the same day anymore and she missed him when he wasn't there. At the same time, she supposed it was a good thing that one of them could stay home with Rachel that day. She was on the waiting list for the Planet's daycare facilities. While she had been admitted to the after school program, they didn't have anywhere to leave her until she started kindergarten again. They had taken her to the local elementary school and gotten her registered, but it was now the weekend, so someone had to stay with her. She'd have to come to the Planet with them tomorrow, Lois decided. There wasn't anything else they could do about it--leaving a traumatized child with her mother wasn't an option, and Clark's parents were too far away without some Super help. Lois grabbed a pen off her desk and began to click it nervously. Rachel had started to come out of her shell--just a little, but she still wasn't comfortable around Clark. Fervently, Lois hoped that Rachel would start to trust him. The little girl needed one man in her life who wouldn't hurt and betray her; Lois didn't want her to enter adolescence and adulthood mistrusting every male she met. Rachel deserved better. Lois hoped that she'd never meet Rachel's stepfather and the men at Coates who had beaten her. She wouldn't be held responsible for her actions if she did. Lois's stomach tightened in anger as she thought about the men. They had hurt the child she was starting to regard as *hers*. Lois turned back to her computer, finished typing up her story, and LAN'ed it to Perry. She grimaced as her phone rang--she had been hoping to leave earlier than usual to get home to Rachel. She answered it brusquely. "Lois Lane." "Hey, Lois, this is Bobby." "Hey, Bobby," she replied. "What've you got for me?" "First of all, I wanted to say congratulations on the