Previously...






"So...you're going to give him a chance, right? A chance to get to know you?"

Clark smiled at her, loving the way she so tenderly asked, loving the concern she had for him.

"Of course," he said, his voice a soft whisper. "I lost years with him. I'm not about to turn away, not when I've finally reconnected with a piece of my past. I want to know who I am, fully. Who I was. At least, who I was to the people who gave me life. I want to know about the world I came from - the good and the bad - not because I'm sorry to be on Earth, but because I am so thankful to be on Earth. So thankful to be anywhere you are." He smiled down at her again. "Because of you, this planet is the most beautiful spot in the universe, as far as I'm concerned."

She smiled at him. "I'm glad that you'll give him a chance."

"He's my father, Lois. Even if he didn't raise me, he's still a part of me," Clark said. "I just wish...because of Bureau Thirty-Nine, I lost my only surviving family. A man lost his only child. Jor-El was tormented for years. For all I know, he could be mentally scarred beyond repair. And it makes me furious. But, then again, because of them, my parents finally got to become parents. Because they raised me, I'm the man I am today." He passed a hand over his face, trying to wipe away some of the conflicting emotions he felt and the sleep which called to him. "I'm grateful for my life as Clark Kent. But I feel almost like I shouldn't, because of what my father went through. I feel like...I don't even know how I'm supposed to feel at this point. This isn't your typical adoption story. My parents didn't give me up because they were too young, or too sick, or too poor, or anything like that. They were stolen from me...one in death, one by a sadistic group of people who held him prisoner for almost thirty years."

The anguish of his heart threatened to spill out of his eyes in the form of salty tears, but he bit them back and refused to allow them to escape.

"Maybe you should take Jor-El out to Kansas," Lois said after a thoughtful silence. "Let your parents meet each other. I know your parents, Clark, maybe not for long, but I still feel like I know them pretty well. I'm sure they would love to meet the man who helped bring their son into the world. I know they must feel grateful to him. I know I would be grateful to whoever fathered my child, if I were a parent. Maybe once you see them together, it might help you to sort out some of your feelings."

Clark thought it over. Lois was right. Martha and Jonathan had always expressed gratitude to the woman who'd chosen them to raise her son after she passed away. He knew they felt the same way toward the man who'd sired their son. And Jor-El seemed so bitter toward the entire human race, thanks to his very limited exposure to Earthlings. It would be good for him to see the best of society, so he would know how great a planet he'd landed on, even if his start to his new life on it hadn't been good. He just hoped that, after almost thirty years of mistreatment, Jor-El was capable of opening his heart and mind toward the rest of the human race.

"Maybe," was all he said in return. After all, even if he wanted to make the meeting happen, it didn't mean that Jor-El would be open to it, even if Jonathan and Martha were. "You should get some sleep, Lois. It's been a long couple of days, for all of us."

Lois stifled a yawn. "Yeah, it has. Thanks for letting me crash here."

"Sure," Clark said, his voice soft. "I'm just glad that you still want to be around me." He flashed her a brilliant smile. Then, "Just wait here a second. I'll get you some extra pillows and blankets. I wanted to get them earlier, but I didn't want to wake you."

He crossed the room to his closet and floated up a couple of inches to comfortably reach the top shelf. When he landed, he had two pillows and an armload of blankets. He brought them over to Lois, putting the pillows beneath her head and covering her with the old, hand-woven blankets that his grandmother had once crocheted. He kissed her brow once she was snuggled beneath them.

"What about you?" she asked, nodding in the direction of Clark's bedroom, where Jor-El was resting.

Clark gave her a half-smile. "Got it covered," he said, rising from the floor and stretching out as he hovered in midair.

"God, I wish I could do that," Lois grinned sleepily. "You can really do that while sleeping?"

Clark rolled onto his stomach and folded his arms to make a pillow for his head. He nodded.

"It so easy, so second nature, that sometimes I wake up only to find myself floating above my bed, even if I hadn't been floating prior to falling asleep. It's not often, but it happens. Particularly in times of high stress."

"Your life is so strange," Lois mused.

"And it gets stranger by the day," he agreed with a smile. "Lois?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad that you know...about me. I've wanted to tell you for so long. I'm glad that I can finally stop lying and hiding...that I can be myself around you, completely, without holding anything back."

"I'm glad too," Lois said, trying to hide another yawn. "Night, Clark."

"Night, Lois. I love you."

"I love you too."


***


Somewhere in the gray hours before sunrise, Clark awoke feeling mostly refreshed. Physically, he could have slept some more, but his mind wouldn't allow him to fall back into his dreams. Eventually, he stopped trying altogether and got dressed for the day. He left a message on Perry's voicemail, letting the Chief know that he and Lois were taking the day off, but not to worry, they had something huge brewing. What he didn't say was that it involved taking down the city's resident multi-billionaire, exposing him as the head of at least one very evil organization.

I'll let him be surprised once we turn on our article and all the evidence we've been compiling to send Luthor to prison, he thought as he brushed his teeth in an effort to feel cleaner and more awake.

As he exited the bathroom, he saw that Jor-El was awake now too. The older man poured himself a glass of water and drank it down.

"I'll make us some coffee," Clark offered.

Jor-El nodded. "I would appreciate that. It's been an age since my last taste of coffee, back when I was more of a valued colleague to the Bureau, when the old management still had control of the operation."

"Are you hungry?"

"Not yet."

"Are you sure? I could make you something," Clark offered as he started the coffeemaker.

Jor-El shook his head. "I'm fine for now. Thank you."

While the coffeemaker worked it's magic, Clark checked on Lois. She was still asleep. One of her blankets had slipped a little, so he gently fixed it, brushing a few strands of hair away from where they'd fallen over her left eye. Standing back, he looked down on her, his heart full to bursting with the love he carried for her. Then, not wanting to wake her, he retreated to the kitchen and fixed his own mug of coffee while eating a granola bar, letting Jor-El prepare his to his own liking.

"Dad? Could we talk? Outside, so we don't wake Lois," he asked in a soft whisper of a voice.

"Absolutely."

Clark led the way out to the terrace. Cradling his mug in his hands, he leaned against the side of the building, looking up into the sky. Beside him, Jor-El did the same. Neither one seemed willing to broach the silence.

"What will you do now?" Clark asked quietly, not quite able to look at his father just yet, fearing the answer.

"I don't know," Jor-El replied in a matching tone. He sighed. "I still feel as though I have a duty to our people. Our true people, not these Earthlings." Clark winced a little at the harshness of Jor-El's words. "But it's been so long," Jor-El finally added. "I've no doubt that I've been replaced, that there is no place for me among the surviving Kryptonians."

"Do you think they're out there, somewhere? Do you think they found a new home?" Clark asked. He'd been thinking about potential survivors since he'd first heard his father's story in its entirety the night before while the three of them demolished two pizzas.

"I hope so," Jor-El replied. "Finding them, however..." He shrugged. "It's an impossibly large universe out there, and I've never known a single race of people to have mapped it all out. Our people could be anywhere."

"Why not stay here?" Clark asked after a moment. "Why go back, with no promises of finding anyone else still alive and thriving?"

"This isn't my home," Jor-El said flatly.

"Neither is...wherever the others might have settled," Clark argued back in a neutral tone. "Krypton is gone. You could just as easily make Earth your home. For real this time." He sipped from his mug, enjoying the feeling of the hot brew as it raced down his throat. It was a simple pleasure he never thought he would enjoy again while he'd peered into his own death.

"I know this is where you grew up," Jor-El said, hesitation in his voice as though he was carefully choosing his words, "but this is not where I belong. It's not where I want to belong."

"I know," Clark said, now cherry-picking his own words and staring into the depths of his coffee, "that things were bad for you. I don't blame you for your disgust for Earth and the people who inhabit it. I can't be sure I wouldn't feel the same way, under the same circumstances. But, please, don't let one very small group of zealots shut your mind to all the wonderful things this world has. Sunsets and warm, sandy beaches. December snowfalls. Summer thunderstorms. People who are so diverse, so different from one another, but so much the same. People who love and share their joy. People who wouldn't hesitate to help out even total strangers."

Jor-El snorted as though in disbelief or disgust.

"I'm not going to say this world is perfect," Clark continued. "Yeah, it has its fair share of evil - people like Trask and the rest of the Bureau - who make it their business to hurt people instead of helping them. It can be overwhelming, sometimes. But there is so much good out there too. So much hope. So many people who fight, daily, to make this planet a better place to live."

He paused for a moment, looking up at the sky again. Before he could continue, Jor-El cut in.

"Kal...Clark..." he began, correcting himself.

Clark didn't mind the slip. For almost thirty years, the man had thought of his son as Kal. Switching to Clark would take some getting used to, he was sure.

"I know your experience is different than mine. I know you've seen more in your years on Earth than I have. I've heard about this...Superman...that you've created. I know that, right now, the world embraces you for it. But for how long? How long will they love the alien in their midst? How long before they turn their backs on you? How long before they begin to resent and hate you for having abilities they will never have? What then?"

Clark shrugged. "I'll keep on doing what I do. Being Superman isn't about getting the world to accept me. There's only one person in the world whose acceptance of me matters - Lois. And, I think, she has. I don't care if the whole world turns into an army of Bureau Thirty-Nine members. I like helping people. I like being able to save lives. I like knowing that my powers are serving a higher purpose than just a lazy Sunday afternoon fly or bringing Lois takeout food from Shanghai."

Jor-El fell silent for a few long moments.

"I think, if you gave the world a chance, it might surprise you," Clark finally offered quietly, before taking another long overdue drink from his mug.

"I think not," Jor-El replied.

"I used to think the same way as you. I was accepted as Clark. No one knew I was anything more than a regular guy. No one knew anyone on this planet could do the things that I can. That we can," he corrected, to include his father. "I thought that everyone would be...well, like the Bureau if they found out about me. I imagined they would all be just like Trask. But I took a leap of faith when I created Superman. And I was surprised at how well he was embraced."

"You've never been locked up in a cell for years on end, not knowing how long you've been there, whether or not an insane man is finally going to against the Presidential order that protects your life," his father said with quiet intensity.

"Maybe not," Clark countered, "but I do know that all it takes is one person to change a life." He cast a glance through the window to where Lois still slumbered on the couch.

"You care for her." It wasn't a question. It wasn't said with contempt or enthusiasm. It was merely spoken, a flat statement of fact.

"I love her," Clark corrected him. "For a long time, even though no one knew of my powers, I felt...isolated. I wasn't sure where, if anywhere, I belonged. Then I met Lois, and, in an instant, my entire life changed. Everything seemed to click into place for me. The world changed from a vast, lonely place, to someplace warm and inviting."

Jor-El seemed to process this over a long sip of his coffee. "And her? Does she feel the same?"

Clark nodded. "She says that she does."

"Then I pray that never changes," Jor-El said, though Clark knew that the man disliked her for the simple fact that she'd been born on Earth. "A great love has a way of changing a man. Your mother...I shall never see her like again."

"I wish it was as simple as just...finding her," Clark admitted. "I've always wondered what she was like. What you both were like. It killed me to learn that she'd died, when my parents told me the truth about the night I became their son."

A silence fell between the two men as they both drank from their mugs and tried to find some way to break the sudden quiet. Around them, only the light, cold breeze could be heard, as well as the rumbling of a truck on some distant street.

"I can tell you about her."

It was a simple statement, but the weight in Jor-El's voice was palpable. It was clear how much love he still bore for the woman he'd been wed to. And the pain Clark heard in his father's voice, knowing that Lara was gone, almost broke his heart.

"I'd like that," Clark replied sincerely.

A silence fell between them once more. Clark waited patiently to see if his father would say more, but Jor-El spoke not a word. Clark wondered if, perhaps, the other man was gathering his thoughts. But Clark wasn't ready for stories just yet. It felt too soon, too rushed, to hear them now. He wanted to be able to take his time and ask all of the thousands of questions he'd always had about his origins and the people who'd brought him into this world.

"Will you stay then?" he asked instead, hoping to convince his father to stay on Earth, even if for a short while.

Jor-El studied the strong brew in his cup before answering. "I don't know. I have no ship. I don't know if Earth has the materials I would need to build a new one, something capable of traversing the infiniteness of space. But I do know one thing. If I go, Clark," he said, the name 'Clark' sounding like it took great effort to say, "I want you to come with me."

"No."

"No?"

Clark shook his head for emphasis. "No. Krypton...or whatever is filling in for Krypton now, is your place, not mine. I belong here, on Earth. My place is with Lois, and with all of the people Superman defends on a daily basis."

"You have a place there, even if you don't know it. Before you were born, you were promised to the daughter of Krypton's ruler. If you returned to me, you would be bonded to Zara, and the two of you would rule over what is left of our people. It was to be your legacy, your destiny."

Again, he shook his head. "My legacy is what I leave for Earth, in both of my roles. It's in the way I can make this planet better and safer as Clark through the written word and my investigations. It's the lives I protect as Superman, the criminals I catch, the people I can give hope to. Not in ruling a people I don't know along with some woman I've never even heard of before and cannot possibly love. If I'm to spend my life bound to anyone, it'll be to Lois." He kept his voice soft and low, but firm, leaving no room for an argument.

"Think of the good you could do!" Jor-El urged.

"I am. The people here need me more than some distant group of people who don't even know I'm alive."

"I wish you'd give this some more thought."

"I don't need to. Nothing will change my mind," Clark said.

Hypocrite! his mind screamed at him. Asking him to open his mind to the idea of staying on Earth when you're just as close-minded about going with him to your own people.

No, he yelled back in his mind. It's not the same! Without Lois, there is no life for me anywhere. It took me a lifetime to find her. I won't ever lose her again.

"Hmm," Jor-El hummed in response. Clark had the sneaking suspicion that the conversation was not yet over, though he was glad to let the subject drop for the moment.

"There is one other thing," Clark said after a moment, after another peek through the windows to ensure that Lois was still sleeping.

"What's that?"

"I'd like to...to bring you home with me," Clark said, working hard to get the words out, feeling awkward in calling Kansas home, when Jor-El clearly only viewed Krypton as their home. "I'd like you to meet my parents...the people who raised me. I think they'd really like getting a chance to meet you."

"Ka...Clark...I don't know," Jor-El said warily.

"Look, I know it's got to be hard, knowing that other people raised the child you wanted to raise yourself," Clark said quietly. "I can't imagine being in the position you are...to lose the child I loved only to reconnect with him years later...to miss out on such a huge portion of that kid's life. But...well...I think it'll be good for you. For all of us. Nothing about this situation is easy, I know. But I can't imagine you leaving this planet without getting to know some of the best, kindest, most loving people that I know. Because of them, I'm the man that I am now. They've never once turned their backs on me or even been afraid of my powers. Instead, I've always been able to count on them. They were the ones who helped me figure out how to control my powers as each new one manifested. Please, Dad. Give me a chance to show you the polar opposite of Bureau Thirty-Nine."

Jor-El hesitated. "I'm not sure that's a good idea..."

"Why?" Clark asked bluntly.

"Well, for one thing, I'd feel like an intruder," Jor-El stammered.

Clark shook his head. "You wouldn't be. All my life, ever since I was old enough to understand that I'd been adopted into the Kent family, I've only ever heard expressions of gratitude for the people that gave me life, and a wish that my parents could thank them for filling their lives with the one thing it lacked most - a child to love."

"But it was never done out of the goodness of our hearts!" Jor-El protested. "Yes, I am glad that someone was there to love you and raise you when I couldn't, even if it wasn't a fellow Kryptonian. But, selfishly speaking, I wish the Kents had never had a reason to meet you." Frustration and anger rang in his voice.

Clark's voice went to a soft near-whisper. "You think they don't know that? Or that they won't be able to understand your feelings? They've always regretted that my parents had to die - so they thought - in order for them to become parents themselves."

"Clark..."

"No, Dad. Please, just give it one chance. One dinner. If it doesn't go well, or you're too uncomfortable or...whatever...I'll never ask you to see them again."

"It's just...a lot...especially given, well, everything," Jor-El said, each word sounding harder to get out.

"I know. I know the Bureau did unspeakable things. But, I'm telling you, the vast majority of people are not like that. And if you wind up staying here, on Earth, by choice or by circumstance, you'll need to know that there are good people out there and that the world is just so...so...incredible and wondrous." Clark sighed. "Please. Let me try to show you some of the good out there. Whether you stay on Earth or not, please don't let your only memories of the planet be the horrors of the Bureau. Don't you owe yourself that much, at least?"

Again, Jor-El hesitated. A thick silence fell between them. Clark noticed that the barest hints of pink were blooming in the sky. A new day was dawning.

"All right," Jor-El finally agreed. "I will meet the people who took you in and loved you as their own."



***



Clark knocked on the door of the farmhouse he'd grown up in. He took Lois' hand for a boost of confidence. She gave his hand a squeeze, as if to reassure him that all would be perfectly fine. After a moment, he heard his parents coming. Jonathan opened the door, his face a broad smile.

"Come on in," he urged as he held the door for everyone. "Lois, so great to see you again. Clark, it's good to have you home." He hugged Lois warmly.

"It's good to be home," Clark said, giving his father a hug. "Mom! It smells fantastic in here."

The delicious smells of pot roast, carrots, onions, potatoes, buttermilk biscuits, Martha's famous homemade macaroni and cheese, and a cherry pie filled the farmhouse. Clark breathed the scents in deeply, the different aromas invoking many happy memories of his childhood. This was his home. These were his parents, no matter what his DNA said.

"Thank you, honey," Martha said, pulling him into a hug. "Lois, I'm so glad you could come. And I'm so glad that you're part of the inner circle now, of those who really know Clark." She smiled brightly, the smile of a woman glad to lighten the burden of a secret even if only by the slightest of degrees.

"Thanks," Lois said. "Me too. It means a lot to me that you and Jonathan are okay with me knowing things."

"Of course we are!" Martha exclaimed, her smile impossibly wider.

"Uh, Mom? Dad?" Clark stammered, toeing the floor the way he used to when he was a young boy confessing to having done something he wasn't supposed to. "I want you to meet someone. This is Jor-El. He's..."

"Your father," Jonathan finished for him. "It's okay, you can say it in front of us."

"Yeah," Clark said, nodding, trying to will himself to feel less awkward about the situation.

Jonathan smiled and waved away Clark's unvoiced concerns. "He looks like you." He turned to Jor-El. "I'm Jonathan and this is my wife, Martha. We're glad to have you here. We've always hoped that Clark would get the chance to find his biological father, however slim that possibility might have seemed at the time."


"You did?" Clark asked. "You never told me that before."

"I know," Jonathan said. "I didn't want you to get your hopes up. Right before you mother passed away, she said that her husband was gone. We didn't know if she meant that he'd died or if he'd simply...gone somewhere. We didn't want to plant the seed in your head that you'd definitely find your father out there somewhere, because we didn't want you to get hurt if you couldn't find him." He laughed a little. "I have to say, Clark, when you said you you'd found a piece of your past, I never once imagined this at all. And when you said it was your father..." He shook his head with a soft smile. "I couldn't believe it. I'm happy for you, you know that, right?"

"Glad to hear it," Clark confessed. "I'm sorry. I know the way I told you was a bit...well...awkward and clumsy. I didn't quite know how to break the news on the phone when I called this morning. I was so nervous about how you'd take the news."

"It's okay," Jonathan said. "I knew something was up, but I just chalked it up to excitement over Lois being in on the whole Superman thing. Then, when you said you'd found one of your family members...well, our first thought was a sibling or a cousin. The you said it was your father and I have to admit it...we were even more thrilled for you. But come on. Let's not just stand around here by the door. Come in, sit. I think dinner's close to ready."

"I'm actually just about to check on the meat," Martha replied. "I'd hate for it to dry out. Why don't you all go into the living room and I'll be back in a few minutes."


"I'm actually just about to check on the meat," Martha replied. "I'd hate for it to dry out. Why don't you all go into the living room and I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Sounds great, Mom," Clark said, relieved that everything felt normal with his parents, despite the fact that the situation should probably have been a lot more awkward.

Jonathan led them all into the living room. Only Martha didn't follow, disappearing into the kitchen. Clark could hear her checking on the various dishes - stirring a pot here, lowering the heat of a stove burner there. She reappeared a few moments later. Jor-El remained mute and spent the time looking at the photographs around the room. He picked up a frame or two, in order to study the images of the childhood he'd missed out on seeing his son experience.

"I want to thank you for taking in my son," Jor-El finally said as he sat on the couch.

"It was our pleasure," Martha assured him. "I don't know what Clark's told you, but having him as our son has been the biggest blessing of our lives. He was the miracle child brought to us when all other avenues of parenthood were closed to us. He was nothing less than an answer to our prayers."

Clark heard the lump in his mother's throat. After all these years, he knew it still brought her to the edge of tears to think about how close they'd come to being completely childless. It still stabbed at his own heart to think of how unfair life had been to two of the most loving people he'd ever known. Again, he took Lois' hand to steady himself.

"He's spoken highly of you both." Jor-El sounded as awkward as he must have felt, Clark mused.

Martha smiled in response. "He's a good son."

"So, Clark, you didn't say...how did you find your father?" Jonathan asked, simple curiosity in his words. "You never mentioned you were looking for him."

Clark shook his head. "I wasn't. It was just sort of luck that we found each other. It's kind of a long story. But, the important thing is, first and foremost, that we're all okay. Just...remember that, okay?"

He could see concern settling on his parents' features like a mask. Swiftly, he recounted their dealings with Bureau Thirty-Nine, how he and Jor-El had found each other, the terrifying new discovery of Kryptonite and what it could do to him, Lana and Lex Luthor's involvement. It took some convincing, but Jor-El related his own story, from before he and Lara had left Krypton, up until he and Clark had met in the bowels of Bureau Thirty-Nine's compound.

When they were finished speaking, Clark could see unabashed agony in his parents' faces. Not just for him and his brush with a stony green harbinger of death, but for Jor-El's captivity as well. He hoped Jor-El recognized how deeply their hearts hurt for him.

Martha shook her head, horrified. "I can't believe...that's terrible!" she sputtered out.

Jonathan looked ready for a fight. "I've never been one to be glad over someone's death, but in this case...I'm glad I can't get a hold of them. I'd teach them a lesson they wouldn't soon forget. How can anyone be so cruel?" He shook his head.

"I've long since given up trying to answer that question," Jor-El said wearily. "It's not a problem unique to Earth, unfortunately. Out there, among the stars," he said, gesturing vaguely toward the ceiling, "there are entire civilizations which seem to consist solely of those who would seek to harm, kill, or enslave others. It's not surprising to find people like that here on Earth as well."

"Thankfully, that's only a small percentage of the world's population," Lois countered smoothly.

"She's right," Jonathan put in.

A timer chimed in the kitchen. Martha stood and smiled.

"Dinner's ready. Shall we move to the table?"

"Sounds great, I'm starving," Lois was quick to respond. Clark could sense her eagerness to dispel some of the tension in the room.

"Me too," Clark agreed. "My mouth's been watering ever since I stepped through the door. Mom? Why don't you sit? I'll take care of everything."

"Thank you, Clark," she said, giving her son a fond smile.

"I'll help," Lois offered.

"No, no. I've got it," Clark said with a grin cast over his shoulder as he headed to the kitchen.

He sped through his work, knowing that it would almost seem as though the various dishes of food were simply just appearing out of thin air. In seconds, everything was on the table, and Clark had loaded the dishwasher with as much of the used dishes and utensils they were finished with as he could. He popped a soap tablet into the dishwasher as well, preparing it for later. Then he calmly walked out of the kitchen and took his seat at the table.

"You cheated," Lois accused him, good-naturedly.

"I had to," he mock-defended. "I had to make sure Mom didn't tell too many embarrassing stories about me in my absence." As soon as he said it, however, he felt guilty. Would it be a wound to Jor-El's heart to hear about all the things in his son's life that he'd been forced to miss out on?

But he needn't have worried. Jor-El paused only for a moment before asking, "Stories? Would you mind if they told some? There's so much I've missed."

Clark nodded. "Of course. Mom? Dad?"

And so the two gentle farmers began to talk, relating any story that popped into their minds. Clark filled in when he could, telling both Lois and his father of how his powers had manifested, how he'd learned to control them, his decision to never tell a soul. He thought, perhaps, that his father might be particularly interested, as his own abilities began to reemerge. Some of them hadn't yet, and Clark wondered if nearly thirty years of being deprived of sunlight meant that it would take longer for his body to absorb enough nourishment from the sun to fuel his powers. He had no doubt, however, that soon his father would possess all the powers that Clark had had for years.

When dinner was over, Clark once more volunteered to take care of everything, leaving his parents and Lois with Jor-El for a whole thirty seconds while he cleaned up, stored the leftovers, and filled the dishwasher. He didn't yet turn the machine on, knowing that his mother would want the dessert plates and utensils added as well. Instead, he set the table and readied everything they would soon be needing, even filling the tea kettle with water to boil when it was time. His work done, he rejoined everyone in the living room. To his delight, he found Jor-El laughing.

"Okay, what'd I miss?" Clark joked as he sat in one of the empty armchairs.

"Oh, nothing. Just the story of when you accidentally set the Christmas tree on fire," Martha answered between laughs.

Clark felt his face go hot in a flush. He remembered the incident well. He'd been focusing so hard on changing out the bad bulbs on the strings of lights that he'd wound up setting the tree alight. He'd spent a month's worth of allowance money on buying a new tree for the family, not because his parents had made him - they never would have asked such a thing - but because he'd known in his heart that it was the right thing to do.

"Yeah, well..." he said with a shrug, trying to brush the incident off. He left his statement unfinished.

And so the night continued on. Clark noticed a marked change in Jor-El as the hours passed. The unhappy, almost depressed feeling that surrounded the man fell away, piece by tiny piece. He laughed more freely, more frequently, and more deeply. A twinkle kindled in his eyes and his smile grew ever wider. His body language - once so stiff and formal - softened. He became more relaxed, leaning into the couch cushions, using ever more expressive hand motions. It warmed Clark's heart and gave him hope that the Bureau's grip on Jor-El might be able to be broken.

"Hey," Clark said to Lois, long after dessert was eaten and cleaned up.

"Hey," Lois replied.

"Can we talk for a minute?"

"Sure."

Clark glanced at his three parents. They were all deeply involved in conversation. No one would notice if he and Lois slipped away for a bit. He grabbed Lois' coat as well as his own and ushered her outside. They walked in silence for a few minutes, until the farmhouse was left behind, the windows all lit up and cozy seeming in the chill night air. Clark leaned against the tree where his Fortress of Solitude lay nestled within the sturdy branches.

"Is everything okay?" Lois asked.

"Better than okay. Lois, I just needed to say thank you. Suggesting that I bring my father out here was a stroke of genius."

She gave him a tender smile that melted his heart. "I'm so glad he seems to be bonding with your parents." She paused for a moment, and Clark could see another question burning in her.

"What?" he asked in a soft voice, encouraging her to ask whatever it was she wanted to ask.

"Do you think he'll stay?"

Clark sighed, watching his breath mist in the cold night air. "I've been asking myself the same question all night." He sighed again. "I hope so, Lois. I know he's had a terrible experience in dealing with the human race. I don't blame him for wanting to leave. But, especially after tonight, I feel like I finally have a piece of my past back. Before tonight...I wasn't really sure if I could think of him as my father. I have no memory of him. He was taken from me too early for me to have any recollection of him, other than what I'm now starting to learn about him. And it felt like a betrayal to my folks, to think of him as my father."

He pulled his gaze from Lois' face. "I don't want to lose him, Lois. Not again. Not when I know there's no chance of ever finding him again. I won't leave Earth. Not for him. Not for anyone."

"I'm glad to hear that," she said, taking his hand and twining her fingers with him. "I don't want to lose." A mischievous twinkle glinted in her eyes. "After all, you're the only partner I could ever stand to work with."

Clark chuckled. "You're just saying that because you have the inside track to Superman exclusives," he said with a lopsided grin.

"I'll admit, it does have its perks," she said, still giving him a wicked grin herself.

Clark laughed again and looked up into the night sky. He felt, rather than saw, Lois snuggled into his side. He looked over only to see her gazing at the stars too.

"It's so beautiful and peaceful out here. I can see why you've always spoken of your farmland roots with such love in your voice."

"What? The great Metropolis-lover, Lois Lane, enjoys being out in the country?" he teased.

"I never said I'm ready to move out here, but I can see its appeal," she retorted, her breath misting in the crisp air.

"Lois?"

"Hmm?"

"I meant it before. Thank you. For suggesting this. For coming out here with me. For being so understanding about, well, everything. You really are a rare woman."

"Considering the one ex-girlfriend of yours that I've have the misfortune of meeting, I can see why you'd think that."

Clark shook his head. "I've always felt that way about you. But Lana..." He shook his head again. "I've thought about her role in everything since the moment we learned that she was in charge of the Bureau. She was always assertive, difficult, and demanding, even as far back as kindergarten. While we were dating, she always pushed me to be someone I wasn't...someone I had no intention of ever being. But she was never cruel. The things that happened out in the Bureau's compound...I had a hard time recognizing the girl I used to date in that unfamiliar, sadistic woman." He thought for a moment. "Still, in the end, she did the right thing, and I have to give her credit for that."

"The right thing? Clark, you can't be serious! She ordered her men to cut you open, stem to stern, while you were still alive!"

"I know," he said in a whisper-quiet voice. "Believe me, the nightmares of that order will haunt me for a long time to come."

"So, how can you possibly defend her?"

"I'm not defending her," he clarified. "I'm just...recognizing that she did do the right thing, in the end. Without her help, we wouldn't have escaped. You can't deny that, Lois. For a moment there, I even saw a glimmer of the old Lana in her. It gives me hope that, maybe, Luthor hadn't completely corrupted her."

Lois fell silent for a few heartbeats. Then, tentatively, "Did you still care for her?"

Clark had to smile, albeit a sad, tentative smile. "No. Not the way you mean it, anyway. She was a part of my past, Lois. I've known her all my life. We grew up together. I could have easily spent the rest of my life perfectly content to never cross her path again, but I never wished her ill."

Lois nodded. "I have a few people from my past that I feel the same way about."

"There's only ever been you for me, Lois," he said, feeling her burrow deeper into his side. He put his arm around her shoulders, luxuriating in the fact that she was there with him, and that he could speak so freely with her.

"You know I feel the same way about you."

"In all my life," he said quietly, "I've never met anyone like you. Someone who encourages me to be exactly who I am. I mean, my parents do, but they're my parents." He shrugged. "Of course they would. But you...it's such a unique experience for me, Lois. To be with someone who doesn't see me for what I can do for them. Lana...she always tried to force me to be something I'm not. Someone who could best service her desires in life. Someone to be...broken and reshaped into what she wanted. And she didn't even know about my powers. You do know, but you haven't once mentioned all the things I could do for you."

"I don't want you to do anything. I want you to be happy. I want us to be happy." She paused, then spoke again. "Are you worried, Clark?"

"Worried? You mean about us? No," he said, shaking his head. "I think we'll be fine. Won't we?"

Lois shook her head in turn. "That's not quite what I was getting at. I meant...well, the Bureau. If they knew your secret...who else might? What records did the police find?"

"I don't know," Clark admitted. "I don't know what kind of proof the Bureau might have gathered and kept. I was so out of it in Bureau Thirty-Nine's compound thanks to the Kryptonite and the fear I had, not to mention the shock of meeting my father and trying to find some way to get the two of you out of the compound alive. I have no idea if Lana recorded anything - when we spoke, when I was hauled off to have that bullet taken out of my shoulder, the prison cell we shared, any of the prep that Trask and the like did when they were getting me ready to be dissected." He swallowed hard and shuddered. "You know, being strapped to that table...it was my worst nightmare come true. My parents and I have always been afraid that if it became known that I was different from everyone else, that some scientists would take me away to dissect me like a frog."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," she apologized.

He just stared into the far distance, hearing her but not responding to her, lost in his own nightmarish thoughts. "I just kept thinking to myself that, after all the years of hiding and lying and pretending, that this was how it was all going to end. Strapped to a cold metal table in some God-forsaken compound in the desert mountains, hacked to pieces by a lunatic. I wasn't even going to be able to die with any kind of dignity. No one would benefit from my death. And, worst of all, my death would have sealed your own fate, because I wouldn't be able to at least try to defend you. I felt so responsible for everything that would have happened to you."

"You did nothing wrong, Clark! My death would have been on Lana and Trask's hands...on Luthor's hands. Never on yours. I knew you were doing the best you could, under the circumstances. I didn't blame you then and I certainly don't blame you now."

"You don't understand," he said his voice raising by only the slightest of degrees. He dropped his arm from around her and moved off a few steps, as though distancing himself from Lois could lessen the agony in his heart. "Your life is more valuable to me than my own. If my alien origins had cost you your life..." He sighed, leaving his thought unfinished. "It's because of me that Bureau Thirty-Nine connected Lois Lane with Superman. The whole world does. The reporting team of Lane and Kent gets all the Superman exclusives. Lois Lane is the one reporter Superman is constantly seen speaking with. All because I have no willpower around you. All because I'm so in love with you, I can't maintain the aloof - and safer for you - personality of Superman when I'm near you. If I had, the Bureau wouldn't have targeted you. So, yes, Lois, your death absolutely would have been my fault."

"Clark," Lois replied in a quiet, intense voice that matched his own, as she reached out to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "you don't get it, do you? I gladly would have given my life to protect the - as I knew it at the time - two men I care most about in this world. Superman protects so many. But who protects him? If I could have kept him safe, I would have done anything. And once I found out that you and he are one, it just made me more determined to do whatever I could to keep you safe."

He finally broke his unfocused stare to look at her. He gave her a small smile. "I guess it's nice to know that Superman isn't all alone in this world."

She smiled back. "He's got a lot of people who've got his back." She nodded in the direction of the house. "And he's finding new ones all the time, it seems."

Clark gazed thoughtfully at the house for a long moment. Then he shook his head.

"I'm not so sure about that, Lois. I may be Jor-El's son, but he's had too traumatic of an experience with the people on this planet. I'm not sure he'll ever like the fact that I've chosen to dedicate my life to helping them - both as a reporter and superhero."

"Give it time. He'll come around," she promised, sounding so sure of herself that it made Clark smile in his mind.

"I hope so. I mean, I don't need his approval. I've lived my whole life without knowing really anything about my birth parents. But, now that I've found him...I want him to be proud of who I've chosen to become."

"I get it," Lois said with a nod. "I've lived my whole life with my birth parents and I've long since come to the realization that the only person in this world I have to make happy is myself. I know I don't need my parents to approve of the way I live my life. Journalism is the last thing my parents wanted me to pursue. But that doesn't mean that part of me doesn't want that approval from them anyway, that recognition that I've made them proud of me."

Clark nodded. While he hadn't yet met the Lanes, he'd heard plenty about Sam and Ellen already from Lois. It made him wince inside to think of the father who'd never reconciled his disappointment with only having daughters and whose affairs had broken up his entire family. It made his heart ache to think of the mother who, by all accounts, usually had harsh criticisms to offer her daughters and whose alcoholism had alienated her children for so long.

"I guess you really do understand," he said, offering her a small smile. He paused a moment, drinking in the tranquility of that cold night. "I really meant it, Lois. Thanks for making me do this tonight. I feel...like a burden's been lifted from my shoulders, to have my parents meet each other, and for everyone to be getting along as well as they have. It...it gives me hope."

He knew he didn't have to explain anything to Lois. He knew, just by the look in her eyes, that she understood him fully.

Please, he thought in a silent plea to the universe, let him choose to stay.



To Be Continued...




Battle On,
Deadly Chakram

"Being with you is stronger than me alone." ~ Clark Kent

"One little spark of inspiration is at the heart of all creation." ~ Figment the Dragon