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“Have either of you heard from Superman?”

Lois was the first to shake her head, Clark a beat behind her.

“Not since he disabled the plant.”

“And you don’t have any idea where he is?”

Again, the dual head shake.

“He’s disappeared before, Chief. I’m sure it’s just— temporary,” Lois offered.

Perry snorted softly, dismissing the two reporters with a reminder to keep searching for Superman. The Daily Planet’s publisher had taken to phoning hourly to ask for updates, and he was just as eager to get the scoop on Superman’s return.

“If she changes her mind—”

Clark looked back over his shoulder at the saleswoman.

“She won’t.”

“If she does… the ring will still be here.”

The ground beneath them buckled and shifted and the console rang its alarm. Lara felt Jor-El’s comforting arms surround her, even as she felt his worry increase. The pieces of metal instrumentation and synthetic casings strewn about the table bounced and jangled until the ground settled again, but the pedestal stood firm, their baby, Kal-El, safely nestled inside beneath the nourishing mists.

When the shaking subsided and all returned to normal, Lara extricated herself from her husband’s embrace and returned to her workstation. Her mind was already on another equation that could boost the examining power of her algorithm when the door chime sounded. Lara looked up in surprise; they had not had a guest visitor since the tremors began a fortnight ago. She looked toward Jor-El, but he was in deep concentration and had not heard the chime. Lara decided to answer the door, as whoever it was must be in dire need of help.

Lara made her way to the door and pressed her palm against the lock. The door slid open to reveal the most peculiar stranger that she had ever seen. A tall, thin man in an unusual suit of brown stood looking at her, a delighted grin on his face. Lara took in his wind-swept hair and his sand shoes and invited him in to rest. The weather must have taken a turn for the worst.

There were tears in her eyes.
Their earlier arguments felt inconsequential; he was angry at himself in that moment – why hadn’t he been there for Ellen, why hadn’t he just admitted that he’d been wrong? Was God punishing him?
He came over to her and looked her over. Ellen had instinctively known the truth – she was miscarrying. Their child was due in a little less than a month, but now…
“I’m sorry,” he said to Ellen. He wasn’t sure what it was that he was the sorriest about: the lie, the arguments, the insults, the leaving her for the overnight shift or their current situation.
She seemed to understand.
“I love you,” he said. The words felt empty, not enough.
Ellen screamed.
It was 2:45 AM.
Two grueling, horrible hours later, Ellen Lane gave birth to a tiny, dark haired daughter.
The child was already dead.
It was 4:45 AM.

The future Superman looked nervous again. "Pardon?" he asked.

"If you're me from the future," Clark said, "then you should be older than me. You look too young!"

"Kryptonian aging!" the new Superman said, confidently.

"But you look younger than me!" Clark protested.

"Kryptonians age backwards," the other Superman replied.

"So how old are you, then?" Clark asked.

"Twenty," the other Superman responded automatically, then quickly added, "hundred."

"Twenty hundred?" Clark echoed. "Do you mean two thousand?"

Clark shrugged, feeling embarrassed. "Glad I could help. But, I have to be honest, listening in like that...I feel...dirty, for doing it. These powers I have...I should only be using them to help."

"You did help," Bruce reminded him.

"That's not what I mean. I mean, I should be using them to help those who need help fighting injustice. This? This was just...I don't want to say 'wrong,' but..." His voice trailed off as he sought to put his feelings into words.

Bruce sighed. "I understand. But, for what it's worth, I'm grateful you did listen in. Now I have time to fix this mess." He paused, then, "You did good, Clark."

Clark nodded distractedly. "Yeah, I guess. Listen, I...uh...I think I need to get out for a bit. Get some air. Besides, I'm sure you have phone calls to make."

"By all means," Bruce nodded.

"I'm not sure when I'll be back," Clark said, in response to Bruce's unvoiced question.

Then he was gone, out the front door - just a blur of colors and an unexplained, out of place breeze marking his passing. There was nowhere he felt like going, so he flew straight up into the sky, tearing holes in the clouds and breaking free of the atmosphere to hover in that space between the Earth and the rest of the universe. He sometimes went to that place, when things on Earth became a little overwhelming. Out there, floating freely, unattached to the world, but not part of the stars, it was peaceful. It gave him a place of solitude, a place where he could collect his thoughts, far from the usual distractions of life.

But this time, he wasn't comforted. He still felt guilty over using his powers the way he had.

It's no different than if I were using them to uncover a criminal as a reporter, he told himself in his mind. And maybe, just maybe, I've finally found a way to start repaying Bruce for everything he's done for me these past couple of years, plucking me off the streets and all like he did.

That thought made him feel a little better. It was true that he felt more than indebted to Bruce.

For what felt like the billionth time, he wondered why he had the powers he did. And, more importantly, he wondered if he would ever have a concrete answer. His parents had always assured him that he was exactly as God intended him to be, but that didn't satisfy Clark. While it was all well and good to believe that he had his powers for a reason, he still wanted to know why. Was he some kind of science experiment? Was he even a human being? Was he some kind of advanced robot - a cyborg, he'd heard it called when flesh and machine comprised a sentient being.

"Who am I?" he shouted into the nothingness of space, his voice nothing more than a ghost in that perfect vacuum of sound.

It was odd to be in a room full of people who all seemed to look up to my dad like he was some kind of hero. A part of me wanted to see him through their eyes just for a moment. I tried to picture him as they did — just an alien superhero, separate from them, above them, different in every way. Non-human. They couldn’t know what it was like, to not view him like that. To see him as the sometimes flawed, very human, normal man he’d kept so well hidden behind the flashy Spandex of his uniform. To see him for who he truly was — a loving and devoted husband and father.

"Alice was visiting her sister when it all happened. She can't get a flight out of Des Moines."

"I'm sorry."

"She knows how I feel about her and what she's meant to me. That's the important thing," Perry said. "How's Clark doing?"

"Things started coming back last night," Lois said. "Having his parents here really helped. But still… a lot's still missing."

"Maybe he's the lucky one," Perry mused. "If he doesn't remember the way it was, maybe he won't miss it."

Frank Madison came on the television screen as LNN started airing the news conference. Again Daitch stood at the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen, people of the world. As you have no doubt read, there is evidence that Superman did return to Earth. However, he has not, as yet, made contact with us. We don't know why he has not contacted us and we fear the worst, that he was injured and is now unable to help us. However, there is no need for panic. Even without Superman's help, we are confident we can handle this latest challenge with existing resources." Daitch moved aside for Zeitlin. "General?"

"We have several delivery systems," Zeitlin stated. "Notably the Asgard booster, which we are in the process of re-programming. At the same time, we're currently attaching nuclear payloads which, if we can deliver them, should break up the second asteroid, 'Shiva II'. We hope to be ready to launch in a few hours."

"And the chances they can hit something like that?" someone in the newsroom asked.

Jimmy chuckled but there was no mirth in it. "You know how many times the chief's VCR's been in the shop? Things break. Things don't work. And they gotta hit this moving target and get it right the first time. I'm not feeling lucky, are you?"

He smiled at her. “When have you found me not ready for anything?”

A touch of acid crept into her voice. “Let me see – yes, I’ve got it. I’m thinking of a long weekend ski trip with me back in late January where you stood me up because you weren’t ready.”

The smile melted away and she missed it immediately. “That was almost three months ago, Mayson. Besides, that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Lois is, for all intents and purposes, drugged. In her right mind, she wouldn’t contemplate acting this way. And there’s no way she’d contemplate any sort of romantic or sexual relationship with Clark Kent. Unfortunately for me, she’s made that perfectly plain.