It Doesn't Do Well to Dream

Chapter 35

The hospital was teaming with people as she and Lex hurried through the halls towards Jonathan Kent's room. He was being treated on the second floor in an intensive care unit that was actually only a few doors down from James Beels', and nurses rushed out of both rooms on their way to their next task.

Peyton followed after Lex, her hand in his because she'd felt like it and it was a sort of comfort for the stress of the situation.

Clark saw them through the glass window and hurried out of his father's room to greet them; Peyton let go of Lex's hand while he and Clark quickly embraced. She flexed her fingers at the loss of contact, her skin felt a little clammy anyway. It was warm in the hospital.

"Clark, how is he," Lex asked as he pulled back and squeezed Clark's shoulders in empathy. "If he needs better doctors, I can have the best flown in from Metropolis-"

"They don't even know what's wrong with him, Lex." Clark's voice was scared and strained and his eyes tinted red. "I didn't know what to do-"

"It's good that you called me; I can help. I'll reach out to my contacts and have someone here within a couple hours."

Peyton's eye was drawn to the window where Martha still sat at her husband's bedside. She blinked as she tried to focus; it was hard to tell if the window was smudged or if the overhead lights were messing with her eyes, but Martha looked a little fuzzy. But even fuzzy, the tension and fear in Martha's posture was clear, and the emotion of it struck Peyton like a blow. She remembered the gutting dread at seeing Lex crumpled on the floor of the manor when Jeff attacked. Or the horrid anticipation as she waited to see if he was alive after the explosion at the plant. They might not have the years the Kent's had, but even the possibility of losing someone so close to you was crippling no matter the time frame.

The wave of emotion that washed over her was irrational and overwhelming, but she couldn't find it in herself to reign it in or care. Peyton took a stuttering breath and the room spun around her; she reached a hand out and braced herself on Lex's arm to stop herself from tipping over. His attention immediately shifted from Clark to her as he instinctively held her up.

"Peyton? What's wrong?"
"She's so sad," Peyton blurted. Tears fell even as she started to pant; it felt like the hallway was growing hotter and hotter. "And I know how she feels because you've almost died so many times now! You can't die, I'll be all alone and I'd miss you and-"

His grip tightened on her arms as Peyton suddenly went slack. The black edges of her vision tightened and closed in until there was nothing but inky nothingness.

"Peyton!"

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Lex's heart dropped as Peyton's eyes rolled back and she collapsed in his arms before she'd even finished her strange outburst. The deadweight dragged, and he crouched down to lower her gently as he desperately scanned the hall; Clark watched in alarm.

"Help! We need a doctor!"

Some nurses rushed over from their station and Lex was never more grateful to be in the middle of a hospital than that moment.

"What's going on?" Clark's question went ignored as he worriedly watched as the nurses hurried to check Peyton's vitals and get her on a gurney. He followed after Lex as they wheeled her into an open room right next to his father's.

"Heart rate is low but stabilizing," one of the nurses announced. "Skin is hot and clammy, pupils unresponsive."

"What's happening," Lex demanded. One nurse attempted to urge him away from Peyton's bedside, but he wouldn't have it.