Glad you guys are enjoying the story so far. And thanks for letting me know.
The Clark in this fic isn't quite as resolute as the Superman shown in canon ("I believe we're all put on this Earth - or whatever planet we come from - to do the best we can.")
I struggled with that issue, too. But I figured that I'd allow Clark a little slack - given what he's lost. Yes, he's grieving, but he also believes he's doing the right thing. And we all know what a stubborn lunkhead Clark can be when he believes he's right
. Besides, it's not where he starts that matters. It's where he finishes.
It's sort of like the old story about the man trying to get his donkey to move. He does everything he can think of but the donkey won't move. An old timer comes along and says you just have to talk nicely to the donkey and he'll do whatever you want. So the young guy gives it a try - with no results. The old timer rolls his eyes and picks up a 2x4. To the astonishment of the young guy, he wacks the donkey across the head. Then he whispers something in the donkey's ear and the donkey instantly moves.
"What did you do that for?" the young guy demands. "I thought you said I just had to talk softly to the donkey."
"Well," the old timer replies, "you've got to get his attention first."
So don't worry. Now that the 2x4 has arrived in Smallville, things are bound to change
ML
