Well, Smirky, I've learned that your name is Rachel (at least in this MBS), you're a brilliant writer, and YOU'RE ONLY NINTEEN?
Gah! I might as well just give up. If you're this good at your age, by the time you're my age you'll be rich and famous and I'll be in the nursing home trying to convince my fellow inmates - er, patients - that "Yeah, I knew about Smirky Rachel when she was just nineteen! Shw wrote this terrific fan fiction that just clobbered my heart!" They'll laugh and tell me not to skip my meds any more.
Seriously, this is a wonderful story. You've captured Kal-El's broken mental state as well as (if not better than) any other author on this site has. The scene where Martha held her son and comforted him as he wept in her arms was so touching that I wanted to put a blanket over him and have someone bring in some chicken soup. And I'm still waiting for Lois to put the pieces together and see that the jigsaw puzzle which looked like it held two faces actually only shows one man's face. And then I want you to show me how she plans to take out her frustration without destroying the extremely fragile man she hustled out of the bad guys' clutches.
Next chapter, please. Not only do I want to know how Clark and Lois resolve this whole mess, I need to torture myself with your skill and level of achievement.
Maybe I'll just shoot my eye out with my Christmas present.
