The light dimmed, and a disembodied voice spoke in Kryptonese. Kala had the translation before the scientists around her did – her ulna had a hairline fracture, with plenty of associated bruising. “Let’s get a cast brace on that,” one of the doctors said.
Schecter had been sitting in a chair nearby, and while the medical team found and appropriate brace and fitted it to the teenager’s arm, he studied Kala. She stared back at him, wondering what was going through his mind. “So what now?” she said, after pocketing the pain pills one of the doctors offered her.
“You’ve seen the diagnostic crystal before,” Schecter said, standing up and beckoning Kala to follow him out. “So you have been in the Fortress of Solitude.”
Kala kept her mouth shut as she walked beside him, her eyes going cold and narrow. Aw, shit.
Clark now saw the world first through the focus of being a father; he evaluated each new situation, each new person, place, and object, based on how the twins would react. Would they be over-stimulated by too much noise? Would they be frightened by someone wearing a large hat? Was it safe to let them crawl on the floor of a given room? Was any object small enough to be swallowed or large enough to hurt them if it toppled on them?Bagel found her master’s new behavior endlessly fascinating. When Clark got down on the floor to peer underneath the furniture, the young beagle enthusiastically licked his face. He had preferred not to use his x-ray vision, just in case a spring or something in the couch blocked some tiny hazard forgotten on the carpet. The very first day of baby-proofing the apartment, Clark had found sixteen loose staples, three pens, and almost four dollars in change. And the twins hadn’t even been able to crawl yet.
How's that? :D