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Summary: Clark has brought Lois home and will now tell her who he really is. Expanded scene (can be a stand alone or a flashback within ‘Sound’, 4th part of ‘Come Home’ series). Lots of super discussion.

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Come Home Series

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Summary: Clark has brought Lois home and will now tell her who he really is. Expanded scene (can be a stand alone or a flashback within ‘Sound’, 4th part of ‘Come Home’ series). Lots of super discussion.
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“So what are you going to show me?” Lois asked as they walked hand-in-hand along the tractor path through the mostly cleared corn field.

“My secret,” he said, stopping along the edge of the path.

Lois glanced around. “Here?”

Clark nodded.

“Why here? Couldn’t you have told me anywhere?” she asked curiously.

“Well, there's a story involved,” he hedged, clearly nervous.

She smirked at him, finding his hesitancy adorable. “Why are you so nervous?”

“I've, uh–” he chuckled anxiously, “–never told this to anyone before.”

Lois raised an eyebrow, suddenly realizing this was of a more serious nature than she had thought.

“Okay. I'm listening,” she said supportively.

He gave her a gentle smile before taking a deep, shaky breath.

“Do you remember when I told you I was adopted?” he asked, looking at her.

“Yes. You said you were found. That the authorities never found your biological parents or where you had come from,” she said, her voice suddenly soft.

He nodded before turning his gaze away, across the field.

“Clark, if you want to figure out where you've come from, I'll help you. I'm good at investigating, you know,” she said gently, moving closer to him.

His eyes moved back to hers. “I know where I came from,” he whispered tentatively.

“Oh. Is that what this is about, then? Well, you know I don't care where you've come from, right? You could have come from outer space and it wouldn't change how I feel,” she said, lifting her other hand and placing it on his chest.

“I–” He nearly choked on the sudden lump in his throat and had to take a moment to clear it. “Thank you, Lois. That really means a lot. You have no idea how much–well, I suppose you'll know soon.”

He swallowed, ignoring her confused look.

“My parents found me here,” he said, pointing to a spot less than a pace away from them.

She quickly followed his finger and looked at the earth riddled with stubs of corn stalks.

“Who would leave a baby in the middle of a field?” she muttered, sadness and anger within her voice.

“I wasn't left here, I was sent,” Clark quietly corrected.

Lois frowned, quickly looking back up at him. “What?”

“I was sent here, when my planet . . . Krypton, was destroyed,” he said carefully.

Her eyes locked with his. She swallowed, slowly taking in his earnest and wary expression as she processed.

And processed some more.

“You’re not joking,” she stated.

He gave a strained chuckle. “No. I'm not.”

“I think I need to see proof,” she said, still staring at him.

“Okay.”

Clark stepped back, letting go of her hand. He then removed his glasses and allowed his feet to leave the ground.

Her eyes followed him as he floated up, and astonishment draped over her whole form. He came to a stop and hovered, looking down at her worriedly. After a long moment of stunned silence, he lowered himself back down and put his glasses back on.

Slowly, Lois approached him, her eyes suddenly holding a tender light – before she whacked him on his chest, surprising him.

“So Janet was right!” she exclaimed.

Clark blushed, recalling what Janet had told her on the day of the televised interview: ‘I think Superman is into you.’

Lois pulled back further, shaking her head as reality continued to settle upon her, giving her another perspective, another angle.

“These glasses . . .” she muttered, shaking her head and looking exasperated. “People really do see what they expect to see. No one is immune.”

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but . . . it’s not an easy secret,” he began, but instantly fell silent as he saw her expression of contemplation.

“Yes. Waiting makes sense. I don’t blame you. I can’t blame you. This is . . . huge,” she said, before throwing her hands up. “Gah! I can’t believe I didn't see it! You're Superman! And we’ve been dating for how long now?!”

“Two months, three weeks, one day, and 4 hours,” Clark rattled off.

Lois froze and stared at him for a long moment, before smirking. “You . . . are such a dork.”

“Well, you did already know that,” Clark said, smiling back.

“I did,” she agreed, “And now I know Superman is dorky too.” She paused and gripped his arm, taking a deep breath. “Gosh. Is this weird for you too?”

“Very. You're the only person outside my parents to know who, and what, I really am,” he said. “I'm so glad you're taking it so well. Granted, I suppose I should have known you would since you're Lois Lane.”

She laughed as she took his face in her hands, feeling his stubble as she closely examined his face.

“How do you shave? I doubt razors work,” she abruptly inquired.

“Heat vision,” he answered with a shrug.

“Why do you wear glasses? Just for the disguise?” she asked.

“For the most part, but there was a time I wore glasses to get control of my x-ray vision. The lenses were leaded glass,” he explained.

Lois’ eyes widened. “What was that like?”

“Without the glasses, nauseating. With the glasses, manageable, since they allowed me to take breaks between practice,” Clark said.

“Practice?” she asked.

“My dad, Jonathan Kent, helped me learn to control my powers, usually in the barn. It took me a solid week for x-ray vision.” Clark shook his head. “That was the first time I ever threw up.”

“Threw up?” she asked, surprised.

“It really messed with my spatial awareness, peering into and out of objects indiscriminately. Not to mention how disorientating and alarming it was to see people’s organs and bones as well. Even when I understood what was happening, it was still jarring.”

“How old were you?” Lois asked, now working on imagining a young Superman coming into his powers while doing her best to balance the reality that he was also Clark.

“Ten.”

Lois stilled, processing the implications. “That's . . . a lot, especially for a child.”

Clark shrugged. “I got through it. Would you like to see the barn?” he asked, hopeful.

She smiled at his childlike eagerness. “Sure.”

They entered the barn and he led her to the trap door, which he opened. They went down the wooden ladder and he lit the lanterns hanging from the low rafters with his heat vision. Lois watched him, transfixed, the use of his heat vision a blatant demonstration of exactly who he was.

“For a long time, I was known as a sickly kid, having to be home for long stretches of time a few times a year,” Clark said, walking to a large tarp. “And during most of those days, I was down here with my dad.”

Lois slowly approached as he removed the tarp, revealing a large wooden log. She blinked as her eyes were immediately drawn to the fist imprints littering the surface of the hard oak. She tentatively pressed her fingers into the grooves, and she gasped at the size of some of the fist marks.

Some of them were so small!

“This was the first one I made,” he said, pointing to the knuckle print just a few inches from the one she was touching. “I was four.”

“Clark, this is amazing,” she said, stepping toward him.

He smiled. “You’ll like this even more then,” he said, directing her deeper into the cellar to another covered object. He yanked off the tarp.

Lois gasped, her eyes taking in a sleek metallic shape. “Is this . . . ?” She looked at him in question.

“Yes. This is what brought me to earth,” he said.

She chuckled softly, her eyes taking it in. “You put your spaceship in the cellar under your family barn.”

“My dad is the one who brought it down here. I just never relocated it,” he countered with a smile.

“Did you do anything else down here?” she asked as he covered it back up.

“I worked on controlling my x-ray vision and senses mostly, though I did do some things with my ice breath over there,” he said, indicating the corner of the cellar. “I practiced my heat vision outside and in the farm house.”

She looked around the dimly lit area with a thoughtful eye. “And flying?” she prompted.

He grinned as he took her hand and led her back up. “That came later. I learned that at . . . my fortress. I can show you tomorrow if you like.”

She grinned at him as they left the barn. She stepped closer to him. “Okay. So what will we do in the meantime?”

He swallowed, taking in her form as an expanse of stars stood as a backdrop. He pulled her close, gently holding her against himself.

“How about this?” he asked softly, slowly floating them up into the sky.

O o O o O

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Don't Let Me See You Hurt - Ficathon Story

Prequel -Don't Wanna Say Goodbye

Sequel -In The Depths Of My Eyes

Nfic version available

Chapter 1
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Summary: In Smallville, what you see is what you get. Usually. But sometimes even the most idyllic places can hold the most horrific secrets. Martha and Jonathan Kent never expected to find a little boy—especially not in the back seat of a wrecked car with his parents dead from the crash. Little Clark Peterson, now an orphan at the age of ten, seems like he’s holding on to more than one heartbreaking secret. Will Martha and Jonathan find the strength to make Clark feel safe again now that he’s been found?

Author’s note: This is Part One of a planned trilogy and is almost complete (there are maybe two more chapters to write). The theme is a bit dark but ultimately hopeful, and as usual, though I break lots of things, I promise to put them alllllll back together! Thank you to KSaraSara for encouragement and help with the Summary.

Content warning:

Found

By Bek <superbek1984@gmail.com>

Rating: PG-13




Martha Kent closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the headrest. For once, she was glad Jonathan had come with her into town to go shopping. She’d never loved driving in inclement weather. Not that she was bad at it; no, she could handle their pickup just fine, wind or rain or snow. But driving through the torrential downpour outside, combined with the exhaustion she felt after the long week they’d just had and the headache she’d been battling most of the afternoon, would have been challenging, to say the least.

Turning her head slightly in Jonathan’s direction, she opened her eyes about halfway and then reached a hand over and set it lightly on his thigh.

“Thanks for driving home, Jonathan,” she said, and she gave him a small smile when he glanced over at her.

“Of course, Martha.” He returned her smile before quickly looking back at the road ahead of them. “I’m glad you didn’t—”

Jonathan tensed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel, and Martha whipped her head back around to look forward just as he slammed his foot on the brakes. The sound of squealing tires was drowned out by Martha’s scream as the pickup slid to a stop, throwing her forward against the shoulder strap of her seatbelt.

“Oh God, Jonathan…”

“Stay here, Martha, I’ll—”

But she’d already unlatched her seat belt, turned the door handle, pushed the door open, and started out into the pouring rain, her eyes fixed on the scene in front of them.

A dark blue sedan settled into its position upside down just off the road, not more than forty feet ahead of her. Its roof was crushed, as was the entire passenger side; glass and debris were everywhere, and smoke wafted up from the front of the vehicle.

But Martha barely registered that or the nauseating smell of burnt rubber or the rain pounding down, instantly soaking her. Her gaze remained trained on the two figures in the front seat, hanging from their seatbelts.

“Jonathan!” She glanced back over her shoulder toward their pickup just as Jonathan shut the door.

“I’m coming, Martha.”

Together, they ran through the rain, across the slick asphalt, and then into the mud and wet grass along the side of the road. And the closer they got, the more the knot in Martha’s stomach tightened.

“God, Jon…”

Martha stopped a few feet back from the flipped vehicle, her hands moving up to cover her mouth as Jonathan continued on, carefully lowering himself to the ground amidst all of the broken glass and reaching into the vehicle toward the driver.

“Martha…” Jonathan grunted as he scooted back a bit and looked at her over his shoulder. His eyes told her all she needed to know, and she felt tears mingling with the rain sliding down her cheeks. Jonathan’s voice thick with anguish, he stammered, “The backseat—check the backseat, Martha…there’s—there’s a child.”

Her heart sank, and she tore her gaze away from her husband and forced her feet to move. Within seconds, she had knelt down next to the vehicle, and she carefully wiggled her way in through the partially shattered window, ignoring the shards of glass that sliced into her palms and knees. Ahead of her, a small child—maybe seven years old—hung upside down in the middle seat, the lap belt barely holding him in place. Blood dripped from a cut on his head and another on his arm, and his eyes were lightly closed with unconsciousness.

But as she reached up and placed a hand in front of the boy’s mouth, she felt him breathing, and a wave of relief washed over her.

“He’s alive, Jonathan!” she called over the din of the rain, which still pounded down outside.

“Can you get him out?”

She quickly scanned the small space around her. With the roof crushed in, the boy—even being as small as he was—was only a few inches from the ground.

“I think so,” she said. Then, she twisted around as much as she could until she found Jonathan, who was leaning in watching her through the broken window.

“Be careful, Martha,” he said with a small nod. “Wayne’s on his way, I can see him comin’ down his driveway with his truck. We should get the boy inside, call Doc McMillan.”

A small moan from the child shifted Martha’s focus, and she turned back toward the boy as his face tightened.

“Shh, sweetie, you’re okay. I’m gonna get you outta here,” she murmured quietly, although the boy didn’t respond. Inching closer, she brushed some of the broken glass out from directly underneath him. The ground was wet from the rain, and she shivered as a chilly breeze swept through the vehicle. She began to ease herself onto the ground carefully, turning onto her back and then scooting just underneath the boy.

“Careful Martha, you don’t know what kind of injuries he might have.”

She nodded and reached up to cradle the boy’s head with one hand, feeling warm blood at the back, matting his unruly black hair. With her other hand, she reached up toward the seatbelt latch. Pausing, she glanced back toward Jonathan, lifting her head off the ground a bit so she could see him. “There’s a blanket behind the seat in the pickup. Can you…?”

“Got it. I’ll be right back.”

Still being as careful as she could, Martha pushed the button to undo the seatbelt but held the belt in her hand and then slowly let it retract. When her hand reached his midsection, she released the lap belt and shifted to support the boy with her hand just above his hips.

He weighed nearly nothing, and she was surprised when she didn’t have too much trouble easing him down on top of her, his head coming to rest on her chest. Gently, she wrapped both arms around him, and she spoke quietly to him as she started to slide along the ground back out of the broken vehicle.

“Shh, I got you, sweetie. You’re gonna be okay.” She didn’t even know if that was true, but god, she’d never hoped for anything more in her life. Voices outside the vehicle became louder as she inched her way out, feet first.

“I called the police already, but they’re at least ten minutes out yet. Maybe y’all take my truck back to the house, call Doc to get out here to see to the boy.”

“Good idea, Wayne. Get him inside, out of this rain. Martha…?”

“You have that blanket, Jonathan?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When she’d scooted all the way out of the car, Jonathan laid a blue and white quilt over top of the boy, and then both he and Wayne helped her to stand as she kept the child held tightly in her arms. He didn’t stir again, and his breathing seemed labored.

“Here, Jonathan, take my truck,” Wayne said, handing Jonathan a set of keys.

Then, together, Martha and Jonathan hurried over to Wayne’s white pickup, and Jonathan opened up the passenger’s side door and helped Martha in before climbing into the driver’s seat.

She closed her eyes for just a few seconds and steadied herself with a few deep breaths as her husband started the truck, turned it around, and then drove as quickly as he could back down the driveway to the Irigs’ home. In her arms, the boy moaned again, and she loosened her embrace just enough to shift him a bit so she could see his face.

There was a nasty cut on his cheek and then another gash just at his hairline. But they looked relatively superficial, and what she was more immediately concerned with was how pale and gaunt the boy was. She pursed her lips together and bit back a sob as she realized her earlier assessment of his age was probably wrong; the boy was likely closer to ten or maybe even eleven, she thought.

Jonathan pulled up to a stop as close to the house as he could get, and Hazel Irig, Wayne’s wife, hurried out to meet them, holding up a large umbrella.

“Hazel, will you call Doc?” Jonathan asked after he helped Martha out of the car and to the front porch. “I should head back out to stay with Wayne until the police arrive.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Hazel replied with an emphatic nod. “Come on, Martha, let’s get this poor boy warmed up.”

And she followed Hazel inside, cradling the precious bundle—this beautiful, tiny child—tightly to her chest.





Martha absently stroked the boy’s forehead, brushing his hair back for the umpteenth time, as she gazed down at him.

“Just a few more minutes, sweetie, and Doc will be here to take a look at you. You’re gonna be fine. You’re…gonna…be…”

Fresh tears slid down her cheeks, the first in the fifteen minutes since she’d sat down with the child. She quickly reached up and wiped them away as she lifted her eyes to Hazel, who sat on the sofa a few feet away holding a mug of hot tea in her hands. Martha shook her head as her gaze met her friend’s.

“He’s so tiny, Hazel. He’s…”

“He’s…not well…” Hazel said quietly. “And I don’t mean…”

“...just from the car wreck…”

Her friend nodded, and Martha lowered her eyes back to the boy. He shifted a bit in her arms, but still didn’t wake, and she continued to caress his forehead with gentle fingers. Something about him tugged at her heart…that part of her heart that she’d tried to shut down so many years ago, when she and Jonathan had found out they couldn’t have children of their own.

As she stared down at the boy’s perfect little face, marred by streaks of mud and dried blood, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to him now… If she’d interpreted Jonathan’s expressions correctly, the two adults in the car with the boy—presumably his parents—hadn’t survived the crash… But certainly he had relatives who would take him in…or something. Certainly he wouldn’t be without a home…

A soft knock came at the front door, and Hazel smiled gently at Martha and then stood up and disappeared out of the living room, leaving Martha alone with the boy for a moment. She stilled, not even realizing she’d been rocking him gently, and she resisted the urge to plant a kiss on his beautiful little forehead.

“Perfect little boy. Doc is here, I bet, and he’ll…make sure you’re okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The boy grimaced and moaned, shifting in her arms to curl up against her more. Then, as though he’d just realized someone was holding him, his whole body stiffened, and he inhaled sharply.

Instinctively, although she couldn’t say where the instinct came from, Martha resumed her rocking and started to hum a quiet tune. And as she brushed his hair back from his face again, the child whimpered and slowly blinked open his eyes.

Her heart clenched.

Huge deep brown eyes flitted up at her very briefly—wide with curiosity and wonder for just a moment before they filled with fear. The child screwed his eyes shut and started struggling, trying to escape her embrace. And he was surprisingly strong for his small frame. However, she held him tightly and began talking to him, keeping her voice calm, gentle, kind…

“Shh, sweetie, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. Shh,” she murmured. She wasn’t entirely sure whether she was doing the right thing or saying the right thing, but the boy seemed to respond to her words—either that or he just tired fairly quickly; his writhing slowed and then stopped altogether. To her dismay, however, he then curled in on himself and started crying, his little body shaking, even though he obviously tried to hide it, as he buried his head into the blanket. Her heart twisted again, and she stroked his hair softly. “Oh, sweetie, shh, now. You’re okay. Shh.”

Quiet voices from behind them seemed to startle the child, and he stilled quite suddenly and whimpered again. Immediately, Martha held him just a little bit tighter.

“No need to worry, sweetie. That’s just Doc McMillan and Hazel. Doc is going to give you a little check up and make sure you’re alright. Is that okay with you?”

The boy shook his head almost violently and then seemed to immediately regret it, bringing both hands up to cover his eyes. Martha frowned as she continued rocking slowly.

“No?”

The boy shook his head again, although he seemed more careful about it this time.

“Can you tell me why?”

Again, he shook his head.

Martha lifted her eyes as Hazel and Doc McMillan entered the room, silent now. Doc tipped his head at her but didn’t speak or step closer. Instead, he and Hazel moved to the sofa and sat quietly. Doc gave her a small smile and a slight nod as though to encourage her, and Martha shifted her focus back to the boy again.

“Sweetie, what if…I stay with you? You can even just stay right here on my lap, right here in this chair, and I won’t let you go the whole time? Can we try that?”

When he hesitated, his eyes still scrunched closed, Martha felt her heart break even more. She cleared her throat quietly and looked up at Doc, who still watched her patiently. He gave her another nod, and she blinked back her tears as she forced a smile in return.

“How about we just try letting him listen to your heartbeat first, sweetie?” It was a guess—she didn’t know what Doc would normally check first, but something told her they needed to move slowly if they were to have the boy’s cooperation.

And when he lifted his chin ever so slightly and glanced up at her with those big brown eyes, still full of tears, she held her breath, waiting. His little jaw trembled as he seemed to study her for a moment, and she smiled at him again and tightened her arms around him ever so slightly. Finally, he closed his eyes, shivered, and mumbled a quiet “’kay.”

“Good, good,” Martha breathed, lifting her eyes to Doc and Hazel.

Doc stood, navigated around the coffee table in the middle of the Irigs’ living room until he reached Martha, and then knelt in front of her and the boy, his movements careful and slow. He set his medical bag down on the floor next to him and then quietly cleared his throat.

The boy flinched in Martha’s arms and curled up just a little more. Her eyes caught Doc’s, and she frowned.

“Shh, sweetie, everything’s okay. You’re okay,” Martha murmured again, even as she swallowed back her worry.

“Hey buddy, my name’s Doc.” Doc rested a hand on the armrest of the chair Martha sat in to help steady himself as he settled onto his knees. Then he lifted the ear pieces of his stethoscope up to his ears. “What’s your name?”

Martha knew Doc didn’t expect an answer, and neither of them got one. Instead, the child just scrunched his eyes closed tighter. Martha stroked his forehead and tried her best to keep the smile on her face as Doc scooted himself a little closer.

“Alright, buddy, first thing I need to do is just listen to your heartbeat.”

Doc spoke quietly as he carefully pulled back the top of the blanket, and he proceeded to explain every step as he gently lifted the boy’s shirt and slid the diaphragm of the stethoscope up the boy’s chest. The boy seemed to hold his breath, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched, and Martha thought she could feel his whole body shaking as Doc moved the stethoscope to a few different spots, listening to the boy’s heart and lungs.

Her heart started racing as she watched Doc suppress a frown, his eyes flickering up to meet hers briefly when he removed the stethoscope from under the boy’s shirt. Gently, he pulled the blanket back up over the boy, and the warm smile returned to his face.

“There we go, buddy. All finished there,” Doc said. His movements still slow and smooth, he removed his stethoscope, put it back into his medical bag, and pulled out a small, silver instrument. “And now, I’m gonna need your help just a little bit, buddy, because I need to check out your eyes next. Do you think you can help an old man out?”

Martha squeezed the boy gently as he shook his head, his eyes still shut tightly. She opened her mouth to try to convince him otherwise, but Doc cleared his throat again.

“That’s okay, buddy, I understand. I understand. You’re doing great, by the way. I know this is scary,” Doc said, his eyes meeting Martha’s with another kind smile. She could see his concern though, and she held her breath as he continued. “How about instead, you can let me check out the cuts you’ve got on your head here? Can I do that, buddy?”

And again, the boy hesitated, his body tensing in her arms. She soothed him gently, the only way she knew how, with slow, careful caresses along his forehead.

“Is that okay, sweetie? Doc just wants to take a look.”

Finally, he swallowed and nodded lightly, but then he curled up against Martha more, one of his tiny hands poking out from around the blanket to grasp her arm. She forced herself to take a measured breath as she smiled down at him.

“Good, good. Now you just focus on my voice here, while Doc takes a look, and he’ll be done before you know it,” Martha promised, hoping she was right. Her eyes darted up to Doc, but he was already sifting through his medical bag, looking for something, and she quickly focused her attention back on the boy as she started to hum quietly.

His eyes opened just a little, just enough for her to get a glimpse of their beautiful deep brown color again, before he flinched at the sound of Doc’s medical bag closing, his eyes screwing shut once more.

While Martha kept humming, Doc explained that he was going to inspect each of the cuts on the boy’s face, and the boy didn’t move, holding himself almost unnaturally still as the older man carefully wiped away the dried blood and streaks of mud, cleaning up the wounds. Gently, Martha held the boy’s hair back off his forehead as Doc cleaned the cut along the boy’s hairline, which looked a little deeper than the one on his cheek.

Doc then let out a short breath. “Okay, kiddo, I’m going to have a look here and make sure we didn’t miss anything.” He paused for a moment, then added quietly, “Martha, can we help him sit up, just a little, so I can check out the back of his head and neck?”

“Of course, Doc,” Martha said. “Okay, sweetie, did you hear that? I’m just going to shift a bit here, and you can…” Her voice trailed off as she started to move, lifting the boy up slightly. He’d tensed again, but he didn’t struggle as she propped him up a bit, resettled herself into the chair, and leaned him on her chest. And all the while, as she felt his thin frame trembling in her arms, she tried to ignore the aching in her heart telling her his behavior was…not normal. “There we go, sweetie. How’s that?” She addressed him, but glanced up at Doc, who nodded with a smile and mouthed “Perfect.”

Behind her, Martha heard the front door open and the sounds of umbrellas closing, accompanied by quiet voices she recognized as Jonathan’s and Wayne’s and another she thought might be Sheriff Harris’s. Hazel hopped up from her spot on the sofa and hurried out to meet them, presumably to steer them into the kitchen or somewhere else so the boy didn’t feel even more overwhelmed.

For his part, Doc didn’t miss a beat, explaining in his warm, gentle voice what he was going to do before he reached up and carefully parted the boy’s hair in the back, checking for other wounds. Martha kept her eyes trained on Doc’s face, and her stomach lurched as she saw him frown. At the same moment, the boy whimpered and pressed himself against her more.

“Sorry, buddy, you’ve got…” Doc frowned again and looked up at Martha. “Hold him tight, Martha. This won’t be comfortable.”

She closed her eyes and lowered her head to rest on the top of the child’s as she did exactly what Doc said, tightening her arms around the boy. He whimpered again but didn’t move, and she continued murmuring quietly to him. “Shh, sweetie. You’re okay. Hush now, everything’s going to be okay. Shh.”

He flinched, his whole body jerking slightly, as Doc used his tweezers to remove a small shard of glass from a wound on the back of the boy’s head. Then she held him even tighter, her stomach twisting in knots again, when his breaths seemed to become short and rapid and he started to cry, burying his head into her shoulder.

“Sorry about that, buddy. But that’s all done now, and I’ve just gotta finish cleaning this up here.”

Ten minutes later, Martha cradled the boy in her arms, rocking him as she hummed a soft tune. Doc McMillan had gathered his things and stood, his expression thoughtful, and he tilted his head toward the kitchen. Martha just nodded with a small smile and closed her eyes as Doc disappeared to join the group speaking in hushed tones in the kitchen.

She could hear bits and pieces—fragments of phrases and words that didn’t make sense without context, and so, rather than try to figure it all out, she pressed a light kiss to the top of the boy’s head and let herself relax just a little into the soft cushions of the chair. And the boy seemed to relax as well, settling into her embrace and letting out a long breath.

It wasn’t much longer before she could tell he’d fallen asleep, his breathing becoming regular and deep, and she finally opened her eyes again and looked down at him, her heart clenching. God, she…didn’t want to let him go.

The thought overpowered everything else in her mind then, and with a short, shuddering breath, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Perfect little boy…”

“Martha…”

Jonathan’s low whisper from behind her startled her a bit, despite its softness, and she blinked twice before swiveling the rocking chair slowly, carefully, until she could see him. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, the others sitting at the kitchen table behind him, still talking quietly amongst themselves. Doc had joined the group and was now writing something on a yellow notepad. She shifted her gaze back to her husband, and as their eyes met, she felt a wave of love and compassion from him. She pursed her lips and tried not to cry.

“The boy’s name is Clark Peterson,” Jonathan said, his voice quiet as he stepped closer to her.

Something inside of her shook loose, and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling then as she nodded and looked back down at the child.

Clark… His name was Clark.

“He’s ten years old. His parents…were Abigail and Jacob Peterson. They did live in Smallville—that old farmhouse off Big Creek Road—but…the sheriff says he’d only met them once before, and he’d never met Clark…”

She knew the question she needed to ask, and it was right there on the tip of her tongue, waiting… But her heart wouldn’t let her, and she just tore her gaze away from the beautiful child she held in her arms—the child who was much too small for his age and much too young to have lost his parents. As more tears slid down her cheeks, she looked up at Jonathan and shook her head slightly.

Jonathan knelt in front of her and placed a gentle hand on her knee. He didn’t quite smile, but she could tell from his expression that he understood her. And he nodded.

“I’ll talk to the sheriff. If nothing else, I’m sure he’ll need a place to stay until…his relatives can be located.”

With a weak smile and a squeeze of her knee, Jonathan stood and quietly moved back into the kitchen to speak with the sheriff, leaving her and the boy—Clark—alone again. Martha swiveled the chair back around to face away from the kitchen and lowered her eyes to the sleeping child. Slowly, she reached up and brushed back his hair.

“I’ve got you.” He seemed to settle up against her a bit more, and she couldn’t help as her heart tugged at her again. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Beautiful, perfect little boy.”

Complete Ficlet
Comments

Hi FoLCs!

Here is the update of new fic (gathered typically through the end of the month). Links at http://www.lcficdirectory.com/pgindex


New Stories:
The Best of Times by Queen of the Capes
Big Changes Come in Small Packages by AmandaK
Breaking Point by Kathryn84
District K: Injustice by AmandaK
The End by Queen of the Capes
Fireworks by AmandaK
Flight to Remember by AmandaK
A Fuzzy Reminder by Queen of the Capes
A Hero's Sacrifice: A Commentary by Lois Lane by Kathryn84
I Will Always Love You by AmandaK
An Icy Reception by Queen of the Capes
In Between Moments: All Fallen Down by JadedEvie
In The Depths of My Eyes by bakasi
Krypto Meets a New Friend? by Morgana
Lois and the Spaceship by 90stvfangirl
Love, Houdini by bakasi
Newcomers by Queen of the Capes
Out of the Fire by Toomi8
The Ring by Toomi8
Seeds of the Season by AmandaK
Smart Kids Revisited by AmandaK
Sound (Superman & Lois Fanfic) by Blueowl
The Story I've Never Seen by Shallowford
Walk the Dog: Storytime by AmandaK and SK
Walking The Dog: A Walk In The Park by bakasi
What a Hero Is Worth: A Commentary by Lois Lane by Kathryn84
You're Not a Wizard, Clark by 90stvfangirl
You're the Only Person I Wanted to be with Tonight by 90stvfangirl

New Parts:
Between Two Worlds by AmandaK
Breaking Point by Kathryn84
The Ruse by Socomama

Completed Stories:
The Best of Times by Queen of the Capes
Big Changes Come in Small Packages by AmandaK
Breaking Point by Kathryn84
District K: Injustice by AmandaK
The End by Queen of the Capes
Fireworks by AmandaK
Flight to Remember by AmandaK
A Fuzzy Reminder by Queen of the Capes
A Hero's Sacrifice: A Commentary by Lois Lane by Kathryn84
I Will Always Love You by AmandaK
An Icy Reception by Queen of the Capes
In Between Moments: All Fallen Down by JadedEvie
In The Depths of My Eyes by bakasi
Krypto Meets a New Friend? by Morgana
Lois and the Spaceship by 90stvfangirl
Love, Houdini by bakasi
Newcomers by Queen of the Capes
Out of the Fire by Toomi8
The Ring by Toomi8
Seeds of the Season by AmandaK
Smart Kids Revisited by AmandaK
Sound (Superman & Lois Fanfic) by Blueowl
The Story I've Never Seen by Shallowford
Walk the Dog: Storytime by AmandaK and SK
Walking The Dog: A Walk In The Park by bakasi
What a Hero Is Worth: A Commentary by Lois Lane by Kathryn84
You're Not a Wizard, Clark by 90stvfangirl
You're the Only Person I Wanted to be with Tonight by 90stvfangirl

New TOCs:
The Best of Times by Queen of the Capes
Big Changes Come in Small Packages by AmandaK
Breaking Point by Kathryn84
District K: Injustice by AmandaK
The End by Queen of the Capes
Fireworks by AmandaK
Flight to Remember by AmandaK
A Fuzzy Reminder by Queen of the Capes
A Hero's Sacrifice: A Commentary by Lois Lane by Kathryn84
I Will Always Love You by AmandaK
An Icy Reception by Queen of the Capes
In Between Moments: All Fallen Down by JadedEvie
In The Depths of My Eyes by bakasi
Krypto Meets a New Friend? by Morgana
Lois and the Spaceship by 90stvfangirl
Love, Houdini by bakasi
Newcomers by Queen of the Capes
Out of the Fire by Toomi8
The Ring by Toomi8
Seeds of the Season by AmandaK
Smart Kids Revisited by AmandaK
Sound (Superman & Lois Fanfic) by Blueowl
The Story I've Never Seen by Shallowford
Walk the Dog: Storytime by AmandaK and SK
Walking The Dog: A Walk In The Park by bakasi
What a Hero Is Worth: A Commentary by Lois Lane by Kathryn84
You're Not a Wizard, Clark by 90stvfangirl
You're the Only Person I Wanted to be with Tonight by 90stvfangirl

Added to the Archive:
None


Enjoy!
Dawn & the Index Crew

Hi Folcs!

Here is this week's update of new fic (gathered typically through Thursday evening)! Links at http://www.lcficdirectory.com/pgindex/mborigindex.html

New Stories:
Good Night, Kevin and Alex by Queen of the Capes
Mind the Muses #4 (Web Comic) by Queen of the Capes

New Parts:
None

Completed Stories:
Good Night, Kevin and Alex by Queen of the Capes
Mind the Muses #4 (Web Comic) by Queen of the Capes

New TOCs:
Good Night, Kevin and Alex by Queen of the Capes

Enjoy!
Dawn & the Index Crew

I think I'm a week late to post this! Apologies, it's a super busy time of year for me. I'll try to get back to the every two weeks posting.

After Superman is hit with a weapon powered by red kryptonite, his powers are transferred to Lois. Lois experiences a steep learning curve trying to manage her new powers, while Clark has to learn what it's like to be without powers.

-Favourite quote
-Favourite scene
-Fanfic reccomendations
-Plot bunnies to release

Next episode on May 18th.

Previous Fic in Series: Disaster

Series ToC


-----


I'm Sorry, Lois


As soon as the phone started to ring, Lois’ hand flashed away from the steering wheel and started groping for her purse. It had fallen onto the floor of the passenger side, but she managed to grab it and fish the phone out before it rang again. The truck behind her blared its horn as she finally hit the button to answer. “Hey. What's happening?”

After a slight delay filled with the now-familiar crackling due to the distance involved, she heard an unexpected but very welcome voice. “...Hello?”

“Clark!” A tension she hadn't even been fully aware of finally left her shoulders. It had been hours since Clark had left for Australia against the advice of his doctor, his parents, and his wife. Now, every news outlet in the world was exploding with confused rumors about Superman, and getting accurate information had been difficult even for someone with Batman's phone number. “Clark, Honey, are you okay?”

His reply was halting and uncertain. “Uh…I…think so? I think I've been arrested…”

“What?!” More cars honked as she nearly missed her turn.

She could faintly make out Bruce's voice in the background. “You weren't arrested. We ducked into the police car so we could talk privately, remember?”

“Oh,” came Clark's hesitant reply. “Um, who are you?”

She couldn't quite hear Bruce's answer over the static.

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Clark, how are you feeling?”

“He keeps asking about my oxygen,” her husband complained, “and he won't shut up about some ‘target’ I'm supposed to find!”

Lois shook her head and changed lanes. “It's okay, Honey. Can you give the phone to Bruce for a minute?”

She could almost hear the frown. “Who?”

“The man next to you,” she answered patiently.

After a moment, she heard Bruce's gruff voice more clearly than before. “Lois, I’m—Clark, please stay in the car—going to fly him home while the others keep dealing with the ongoing situation here.”

“Fly?” she echoed. “You mean in an airplane?”

“I cannot confidently recommend the alternative,” Bruce replied.

Lois thought for a moment. “What about having Barry run with him?”

The phone crackled again. “Having Barry escort him on foot would potentially be faster, but would also pull a highly effective operant away from the situation here. My plan is the best solution for the League and the second best option for Clark.”

She frowned. “Clark never did well with planes. Most of it might be childhood trauma from his spaceship; I don't know how much of that is left since…well. But besides that, I think the engines bother his ears.”

“I will take that under advisement,” Bruce replied. “What's the situation there?”

Lois sighed. “A lot of questions, but no real answers. People are pretty sure that Superman is back from the dead somehow, but they can tell something's wrong.” She finally pulled into the driveway and shut the ignition. “...I had to tell Jimmy the truth.”

“Oh?”

In the background, she heard Clark ask “Who's Jimmy?”

“Jimmy's been a close friend for a long time,” she replied, knowing Clark would hear her. “He's the only one left at the Planet who knows that Superman first appeared shortly after Clark moved to Metropolis. He also seems to be the only one to notice that Clark's “accident” happened around the time Superman died in space.”

She shouldered her purse, and her voice automatically lowered as she exited the car. “That brief clip we got from Australia clinched it; he recognized that Clark was starting to have a seizure and put all the dots together.”

“I see.”

“Perry would be proud of him,” she continued, reaching for the door of the brownstone. “I just hope that no one else—What on Earth?!” Lois stared into the house, her jaw hanging open. Bouquets of red roses were piled onto the coffee table and in every corner, on every piece of furniture that had a scrap of reasonably flat surface. A few even lay on the couch. She gasped, and the air was completely perfumed with them.

“I take it you just arrived home?” Bruce noted.

Her two older children came running from the kitchen with yet more roses, held in their hands and wreathed around their heads like the king and queen of May. “Mommy! Mommy, lookit!”

It took her a moment to remember the phone in her hand. “Bruce, why is my house suddenly the inside of a florist’s shop?!”

Bruce's deep sigh was barely audible over the static. “Because I could have sent him back as soon as he got here, but I didn't. And because I could send him back with Barry, but I won't. I chose the many over your husband again, and this time, I did it knowing who was waiting for him at home. I'm sorry, Lois.”


End

-----

Comments

Between Two Worlds
By AmandaK

Summary: A coup on New Krypton sends Clark fleeing back to Earth with his nine-year-old “son,” Jor-El. He arrives in Smallville to find Lois and their son, Jon. Clark must now find his place on Earth once more, while helping Jor settle in and becoming the father Jon never had.

Author’s Note:
For the purposes of this story, Kryptonian dialogue will be noted by <>. Telepathic communication will be noted with []. Hopefully, this will be easy enough to follow.

Chapter 7

Lois woke to the early morning, Kansas sun beaming through her bedroom window. She rolled over in bed, hoping she could fall back asleep and reminding herself to bring blackout curtains when she came back from Metropolis to pick up Jon after summer vacation. It was no use. The old farm house did little to hide the sound of footsteps on creaky floorboards downstairs or the muffled voices which filtered their way up to her room.

She yawned and stretched and blinked blearily into the too bright room. There was something she was supposed to do today… or remember? Something from yesterday?

Yesterday?

Clark!

She sat up straight, suddenly wide awake. She pushed back the covers and hurriedly threw on a robe over her rumpled sleep clothes and slid her bare feet into a pair of fuzzy bear-shaped slippers Jon had bought her for Christmas last year.

Not a dream, she told herself as she left the room and started down the stairs. It wasn’t a dream.

Sure enough, as she descended into the living room, she heard Clark’s distinct voice from the kitchen. He was speaking Kryptonian, which meant Jor must be up as well. Lois was sure that Jon was still sleeping. He always slept in the first few days of summer break. His grandparents would have him up with the chickens to help with farm chores after she went back to Metropolis.

Despite feeling anxious to see Clark again, Lois forced herself to slow down and walk calmy to the kitchen. She casually leaned against the doorjamb and allowed herself a moment to simply take him in all over again.

Clark was sitting at the kitchen table, dressed in blue jeans and a long-sleeved, plaid shirt which Martha must have dug out of storage for him. Most of his things had been put away to make room for her and Jon when it became apparent that he wouldn’t be returning soon.

Jor sat next to him, still in his Kryptonian outfit from the day before. They’d have to see if some of Jon’s clothes fit him until they had a chance to go shopping. The boy was poking at his breakfast with a fork, looking somewhat bewildered. Jon would have finished off that same plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes within minutes.

Clark seemed to have already finished eating, though he had a mug of coffee on the table. But his focus was on a strange looking orb which was flashing small holographic images above itself, too quickly for Lois to process. The images weren’t the only thing moving quickly. Clark’s hands were flying around the orb, ostensibly pressing buttons or something. Whatever he was doing was too fast for the human eye to follow.

“You got your speed back, I see,” Lois said, drawing both Clark’s and Jor’s attention.

Clark stopped what he was doing and smiled at her. “Good morning,” he said. Then he let his eyes travel over her as though he, too, were simply taking in a sight for sore eyes. Suddenly, his smile morphed into a smirk and he raised his eyebrows pointedly at her attire.

Lois looked down at the old Smallville High School football t-shirt and sweatpants she had taken to wearing to bed, while visiting the Kents. Those, combined with the worn robe and bear slippers, hair mussed and sans make-up, probably made her quite the sight to behold. She felt her cheeks warm slightly but shook off her embarrassment quickly. Raising her eyes to look back at Clark, she smiled and shrugged. Then she pushed off the doorjamb and went to fix herself a cup of coffee.

“So, your powers are coming back?” Lois asked, glancing back over her shoulder.

Clark nodded. “Yeah, slowly. I’ll probably spend some time out in the sun today, see if I can help Dad with any projects. I should be back to… well, super normal by the end of the day or sometime tomorrow, I imagine.”

Lois nodded. She hesitated for a moment before asking, “Do you plan on getting back into the suit right away?”

“Not… right away.” Clark answered. “I know I want to go back to being Superman. I missed being able to directly help people on New Krypton. But, there’s still so much to figure out.” He gestured to Jor. “We need to get settled in.”

“And you need a cover story.” Lois added.

Clark nodded. “Right. Superman’s return should be easy enough. I’m sure you’ll get a nice front-page headline with that.”

“Obviously.”

“But where have I been? Where did Jor come from? What did you end up telling people when I disappeared?”

Lois sighed heavily and carried her coffee to the table. She sat down and took a few sips before letting her mind wander back to those first miserable days, weeks, and months. “Well… we said you were out covering the public reaction to Superman’s departure. When you didn’t come back… um…” she took another sip of her coffee to steel herself against the emotion brought on by the memories.

“When you didn’t come back, we filed a missing person report and the police did their investigation. I think Perry must’ve run something in the paper. Honestly, those first few weeks were such a blur. I don’t really remember much.” She felt something damp on her cheek and hurriedly wiped away the errant tear before looking up at Clark.

Clark looked back at her, his eyes dark with sorrow and guilt. Lois cursed herself for letting her feelings show so plainly. He was carrying enough guilt over everything that had happened on New Krypton. She didn’t need to be piling this on him as well.

“I’m so sorry, Lois.” Clark said. He opened his mouth to say more but Lois cut him off with a shake of her head.

“It’s fine. You’re home now. And we need to go over this if we’re going to come up with a cover story.” Another sip of coffee and Lois was ready to continue, no more tears. “Anyway, sometime later… I’m not sure when exactly. It was after Jon was born. The police informed us that they had exhausted all of their leads – not that there were many to begin with but at least they can say they tried. Ultimately the case went cold.”

Clark nodded and frowned, clearly thinking hard. “So, in this scenario, I could have ended up anywhere.”

“Right. We left it open so that whenever you did return, we could spin something that fits,” Lois continued. “Of course, now we have to figure out a way to work Jor into it as well. Hmmm… let me brainstorm while I eat breakfast and then we can hash out some ideas.”

Clark nodded and took hold of the strange orb again, his hands resuming their lightning speed over controls Lois couldn’t decipher. She stood up and poured herself a second cup of coffee before moving over to the stove, where Martha had left a selection of breakfast items to keep warm.

As she fixed herself a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and some fresh berries, Lois overheard Clark speaking to Jor again in Kryptonian. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that he had passed the orb to the boy and seemed to be explaining something to him. Jor nodded and replied quietly before activating something on the device and interacting with the displayed hologram at a more normal pace.

Seeming satisfied, Clark stood up as well, taking his plate back to the stove for a second helping. Lois chuckled as he piled bacon and pancakes on his plate, slathering both with maple syrup. He didn’t even wait to sit down before taking his first bite.

“Mmm. This is so good,” he said, shutting his eyes to savor the flavor. “You know I’ve always appreciated good food but you don’t realize how much you take it for granted until you are lightyears away from anything with actual flavor.”

“I guess not,” Lois replied. She smiled as she led them back to the table and they both sat down to eat. She only picked at her food, however. She kept getting lost somewhere between thinking up a cover story and just staring at the man in front of her. If she let herself, she could almost forget that he’d ever been gone. He was there in the same shirt and jeans he used to wear, enjoying his mother’s cooking, smiling at her. It was almost like he had never left.

Except he had.

And so much had changed. Lois wouldn’t give up Jon for the world, but she wished she could somehow get back the ten years she had lost with Clark, erase the shadows from his eyes, and rekindle the romance they had left behind so long ago.

Lois’ eggs had gone cold by the time Jon came down for breakfast.

“Morning, Mom! Morning, Dad! Hi, Jor.” Jon said, eagerly trotting over to the stove. “Alright! Pancakes!” He put three on a plate and added more syrup than Clark had.

“Have some eggs too, Jon,” Lois scolded gently. Her son rolled his eyes but obligingly spooned some eggs onto his plate and then sat down next to Jor.

He lifted his fork to his mouth but stopped before taking a bite, the orb in Jor’s hands having caught his attention. “Whoa! Cool! Is that some kind of video game?”

Jor looked at Jon and frowned for a moment. Then he opened his mouth and replied in hesitant English, “No, it is not a… vid-a-oh gam,” he shook his head at the unfamiliar word, seemingly oblivious to the shocked looks Jon and Lois were giving him. “It is a…” Jor frowned and then looked at Clark and said something in Kryptonian.

Clark wiped his mouth with a napkin before responding. “It’s an education orb,” he explained. “It can be set up to teach the user any number of things. I programed it to teach Jor English just this morning.”

“Is that what you were doing?” Lois asked.

Clark nodded. “It’s fairly easy to program but it can be time consuming, especially to program in an entire language. I started on it during our trip but it was so much faster with super speed.”

“Wait,” Jon cut in, turning to look at Jor. “You only just started learning this morning and you can already understand me?! Man, could I use that for school? How does it work? Are you just reading or is there audio? I didn’t hear anything. Do you have earbuds?”

Lois wasn’t sure how much of that Jor understood, but her was clearly overwhelmed by Jon in full-babble mode. “Slow down, Jon.”

Clark laughed. “He certainly gets that from you.”

Lois grinned but indignantly threw a blueberry at Clark, the effect of which was spoiled when he caught it in his mouth. Before she could do more, however, his attention diverted to Jor. For a moment, the two Kryptonians simply looked at each other. Then, Clark shook his head and Lois suddenly realized they were speaking telepathically. She forgotten about that aspect of Kryptonian culture.

Jor suddenly nodded and picked up his education orb, resuming where he had left off. Clark turned his attention to Jon. “To answer your questions, Jon, we could probably program it to help with your schooling but you’d have to learn how to use it and there is no guarantee that you’d learn any faster than you do now. Jor is picking up English so quickly because Kryptonians are naturally gifted with languages. I always thought that was one of the special abilities I got from the sun, but it turns out to be quite common among our kind – though mostly useless on New Krypton since there is only one common language.”

Jon sat up straight in his chair. “Neat! Do you think I’ll get that too? I’m supposed to take Spanish next year and I was really worried about it but maybe it’ll be a cinch.”

“Maybe,” Clark chuckled. “As for the audio, no, Jor doesn’t have… earbuds? Is that what you said? What are earbuds?”

It was Lois’ turn to laugh. Clark had missed a few advancements in technology while he was gone. “They’re like headphones, except they fit inside your ear.”

“Right, I figured it was something like that. Anyway, no. Jor is able to hear and respond to the orb telepathically.”

Lois didn’t think she’d ever seen her son’s eyes go quite so wide as they did upon hearing that - perhaps when she had told him his dad was actually Superman.

“Telepathically?!” Jon exclaimed. “Like he can hear it in his head? And think back to it? But wait, wouldn’t that be more like technopathy?”

Clark shook his head. “No… Kryptonians are telepaths and empaths but we can’t communicate with technology in general. This device was specifically designed to allow for telepathic connection – don’t ask me how it works.”

“Can you communicate with anyone?” Jon asked, moving on from the device and clearly more interested in telepathy in general.

“As far as I know, we can only communicate with other Kryptonians,” Clark answered.

“What about me?”

Lois sat back, wondering the same thing. So far, Jon hadn’t exhibited any super abilities but this wasn’t quite the same as powers imbued by exposure to a yellow sun. Apparently, Kryptonians were able to use telepathy from an early age. But Jon hadn’t met another Kryptonian until now. It would be interesting to find out if that trait had been passed on to him.

“I don’t know,” Clark stated. “Why don’t we find out?”

“Right now?” Jon asked. “Do I have to do anything.”

Clark smiled. “No. Just relax. I’ll reach out to you.”

Jon took a deep breath and let it out slowly but Lois doubted he was actually relaxed in anyway. He was briming with excitement and nervous energy. Lois really hoped it worked. He would be so disappointed if it didn’t.

Across the table, Lois noticed that Jor had looked up from his device and was watching Clark and Jon intently. She vaguely wondered what he thought about all this.

Suddenly, Jon gasped softly and smiled. Then he frowned. “Wait, how do I respond?” he asked out loud.

Clark chuckled. “You just think. I can hear you. Although you will still have to learn how to intentionally project your voice to me and it might be best if I stay out of your head for now until you’ve had some training on how to guard your thoughts.”

Jon nodded. “Right, that makes sense. But still, that was so cool! I can do it! I’m Kryptonian!”

“You’re half human too, Jon,” Lois reminded him. “We still don’t know what will carry over and what won’t.”

“But if I can do this then I’m sure I’ll get some superpowers too!” Jon plowed on, undaunted. “How old were you when you got your powers, Dad?”

“I was a bit older than you before I really started noticing anything different,” Clark explained. “The strength, speed, and invulnerability seemed to come on gradually at first and then in leaps. But most of my abilities didn’t emerge until I was well into my teens. And your mom is right. We don’t know what you may or may not inherit from me. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I…” Jor’s voice sounded suddenly from where he’d been silently listening to them. As all eyes turned to the Kryptonian boy, he took a breath and sat up straighter, somehow portraying an air of authority beyond his nine years. “I will have… powers… will I not?” he asked in slow English.

Clark nodded. “Yes, Jor. I do not know when they will manifest, though. Adult Kryptonians gain their powers within a few days’ exposure to the yellow sun. But age seems to be a factor, if my experience is any indication. I’m not sure if it will take more or less time in your case. Did you follow that?”

“Yes, Father.” Jor returned to his orb without another word.

“I wish I could learn languages that quickly,” Lois said, breaking the odd silence that followed. She stood up and carried her plate to the sink. “Anyway, why don’t you boys head out and see what Grandpa needs done around here. Grandma should be back from her art class soon and you,” she pointed at Jon, “promised to help her weed the garden.”

“Yes, Mom.” Jon stood up and took his plate to the sink as well.

Clark was right behind him. Lois caught his arm and almost gasped at the tingle which passed between them at her touch. She shook off the feeling and smiled softly. “When you come in for lunch, we can brainstorm those cover story ideas together.”

“Sounds good.” Clark kept his eyes on her as he slowly moved away. He seemed as hesitant to break their contact as she was, but it wasn’t like this could go anywhere with two nine-year-old boys in attendance. Even a chaste kiss would be too much right now. They hadn’t figured out yet exactly what they were going to do, relationship-wise, and it would be best not to confuse the boys while they did.

Nevertheless, Lois let her gaze follow Clark as he stepped into an old pair of boots and headed outside. He really did look good in jeans.

-------------------

“I’ve thought of something which might work,” Lois said before Clark could even make himself comfortable on the couch that afternoon. To be honest, he was glad she had an idea for a cover story because he hadn’t come up with anything even remotely plausible. He had spent most of his morning outside fixing fences and working on tractors with his father and Jon. Jor had joined them at some point, mostly observing their work or gazing silently around the farm – his fascination with the new world around him apparent in his thinly veiled emotions even if they didn’t show on his face.

After lunch, Jon had gone to town with his grandparents and Jor had returned to his English studies, leaving Lois and Clark to discuss how to bring both Superman and Clark back into the world.

“There’s an ongoing problem with human trafficking out of Metropolis Harbor,” Lois began. “It’s been going on since before you left, though I think you cut down on a lot of it as Superman.”

Clark nodded. “I used to routinely patrol the docks for anything like that. I take it, there’s been a resurgence since I left?” He frowned and found himself wondering what else had gone wrong while he had been gone. Was the crime rate back up to what it had been in his pre-Superman days? How many terrible accidents could he have prevented? How many natural disasters might he have aided in? How many lives had been lost while he’d been off playing war on New Krypton?

He shook off the dark thoughts before Lois could notice where they’d gone. Fortunately, she was focused on explaining to him how there had been a significant increase in human trafficking and the police were hard-pressed to find the ring-leaders and put a stop to it. Clark made a mental note to make that one of his top priorities when he returned to his hero-work.

“Anyway, here’s my thought,” Lois steered them back to the topic at hand. “When Superman left, you – Clark – were out getting the public reaction to his departure, right? So, what if you, hypothetically, happened to stumble across something shady down by the docks. You saw an opportunity to investigate and discovered a ship getting ready to depart with a group of abducted men and women. You couldn’t just let them get away and there wasn’t time to call for help, so you tried to rescue them yourself. Only you got caught. The ship left with you on board.”

“Where was it headed?” Clark cut in, wanting to make sure they had enough details to make the story work.

Lois shrugged, “Probably somewhere in Central America – we can work out exactly where later – but we need to get you to the Caribbean.”

“Why the Caribbean?”

“Because that’s where you shipwreck.”

Clark raised his eyebrow skeptically. “A shipwreck?”

“Yes. You and two other victims make it off the boat and manage to get to a deserted island – there are some in the Caribbean though not nearly as many as in the Pacific. I think it would be a stretch to get a boat from Metropolis Harbor to Malaysia though.”

“I think it’s a stretch even without that.” Clark pointed out.

“It’s plausible!” Lois defended her story. “Haven’t you seen Castaway? Wait, no, of course you haven’t. Never mind.” She waved her hand as though to brush away her tangent. “Anyway, just go with me here. The other two victims are a young couple – vacationing in Metropolis from… wherever you think has a language sort of like Kryptonian. They were captured by the traffickers and you got to know them during the voyage. When the ship sank, only the three of you managed to get to the island. And there you stayed, living off of fish and tropical fruit. At some point, the woman realized she was pregnant – which is how we bring Jor into the story.”

“Okay…” Clark was starting to see how this could work. Maybe. If no one asked too many questions. “But what happened to the couple?”

“Well, at some point, they would have to get sick or there would be an accident and without modern medicine…” Lois trailed off, letting the obvious conclusion go unsaid.

“But Jor and I survive.” Clark played the story over in his head, creating various details to go along with Lois’ general overview. He could probably use the excuse of trauma to not have to talk about it too much. But Jor would have to know the cover as well and they didn’t want to risk getting their stories crossed. “And how do we finally get back home?”

Lois grinned. “Superman of course. After you make your debut, you can claim to have just been flying over the Caribbean when something – maybe an S.O.S sign – caught your eye and you discovered your old friend Clark Kent and a young boy living on a deserted island. He brought you both to Smallville to recover. That’ll give you time to get all the proper paperwork done for Jor and let people get used to the idea of you being back before you actually move back to Metropolis.” Lois paused and looked at him hesitantly. “That is, if you plan on moving back to Metropolis. You hadn’t said…”

Clark took Lois’ hand in his own and returned her gaze. “Of course I’m moving back,” he reassured her. “Metropolis is my home. I love the city. I love working for the Daily Planet – working with you. I just hope I can somehow find a way to fit in there again.”

“Don’t you worry about that.” Lois patted his chest. “Perry is going to be thrilled to have you back. And just wait till you see Jimmy – you know he’s an official photographer for the paper now?”

Clark smiled softly as Lois continued to ramble about their old friends at the paper. He was looking forward to seeing everyone again. But he was also worried that things were going to be vastly different from how he remembered – that he was vastly different from the Clark Kent they remembered.

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Here's the PG-13 version of the sequel to my story Don't Let Me See You Hurt . Thanks to Darth Michael for his awesome beta. He also suggested PG-fying this, so here you go. Just a bit of unadulterated fluff. Hope you enjoy.



In The Depths of My Eyes

“Are you –”

Her voice caught in her throat as she watched him work on the drainpipe beneath the bathroom sink. Clark lay flat on his back, one hand holding the pipe, the other turning the connection piece. Why was it that the play of well-defined muscles under smooth skin made her mouth run dry? She had a hard time tearing her gaze away from his forearms. Her heart skipped a beat and her breathing turned shallow.

“What is it?” He looked up, confusion flashing across his face at her lack of coherent talking. “Do you need help with something?”

His dazzling smile sent her heart racing. Words failed her. What was so damn sexy about a man fixing a leaking sink? She felt like a teenager with a massive crush, incapable of uttering a single word. Something about the past twenty-four hours had turned her into a drooling fool and it was about time she got a grip.

Lois cleared her throat and forced her straying thoughts back on the reason she'd stepped into the bathroom. “Are you ready?”

Gosh, she almost hoped he wasn't because she'd just love to ogle him a while longer. Drops of water running down his forearms caught her eye and…

She shook her head to clear it of the inappropriate thoughts. “I’ve taped off all the baseboards and windows. We can start painting.”

“Great!” He beamed at her, somehow managing to make that smile even more breathtaking than the first one. “I need another minute.”

As he lay back down and adjusted his position, his flexing pectorals drew her gaze like a magnet. Her eyes wandered over his flat abdomen. His shirt partly revealed the outline of firm abs. Lois let out a breath before she made a conscious effort to look somewhere else, anywhere else. She had vivid memories of the way his smooth skin had felt under her fingers as she’d taken off his shirt yesterday evening.

Gosh, she wanted more.

Lois turned and closed the door behind her, needing the distance. With a small sigh she rested her back against the wall next to it and let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. It was hard to believe they’d arrived at the Appalachian View Lodge just a day ago. Lois had lured Clark here under the pretense of helping a friend of her Mom’s with renovations of the hotel she owned. In fact, Lois had just wanted to get him out of town, far away from the mad guy who’d nearly killed Superman with a kryptonite laser and who’d escaped jail shortly after his arrest.

After the emotional rollercoaster of the past few weeks, she’d been looking forward to some quiet time alone with Clark. The attack had left them both rattled, Clark in particular. Once he’d regained enough strength to stand he’d spent every waking moment chasing after his attacker, terrified the guy would hurt Lois to get back at Superman. In panic, Clark had very nearly broken up with her, assuming it was the relationship with him that put Lois in danger. Fortunately, she’d managed to talk him out of that crazy notion.

But even before the attack their relationship - if they'd ever really had one - had been in shambles. The aftermath of learning his secret had been a constant up and down. First, Lois had had a hard time getting over her anger and sense of betrayal caused by his failure to tell her who he truly was. And just when she’d thought she’d come to terms with the two men in her life being one and the same, her life had been thrown for loop after loop.

When she’d learned that Clark’s life might be in danger again, she’d just been anxious to get him out of Metropolis. She hadn’t really thought beyond that. But now they had finally managed to reconnect. A night spent in Clark’s solid arms had helped chase away the remaining shadows of lies and deception. Suddenly, they were back to being comfortable around each other, with an added level of intimacy that hadn’t been part of their relationship before.

Lois wasn’t sure how to deal with that. Just yesterday she’d told him she wasn’t ready for that next step and Clark had promised her to wait for her, however long it might take. Going all-in now felt like she was jumping the gun. But after nearly twenty-four hours of dazzling smiles, casual touches, murmured declarations of love and sweet, albeit much too innocent kisses, her body was screaming for release.

With a sigh she pushed herself off the wall and strolled over to the window, taking in the magnificent view of the mountains that surrounded the Appalachian View Lodge. The clouds had finally given way to a clear blue sky. Perhaps she should ask him to paint the room tomorrow and go for a walk with her instead. A little fresh, cool air might help take her mind off of the things she longed to do with him. Perhaps his constant presence wouldn't be quite as overwhelming next to the vast beauty of the mountains.

The creaking of the door and soft footsteps disrupted the silence.

Clark's warm hands came to rest on her shoulders, slid down her arms and over her belly until she found herself in his gentle embrace. She leaned into him, snuggling against his broad chest that was surprisingly soft for a man made of steel. Lois closed her eyes and felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her back. He placed a kiss on her neck, his breath tickling her and sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. His lips lingered on her skin, warm and pliant, whispering promises of less innocent kisses. And, oh, she wanted to turn her head and capture them fiercely. Being near him was a confusing mix of danger and security.

“Sink is fixed.” Even the low rumble of his voice gave her pleasant shivers.

Lois bit back a moan and rolled her eyes at herself. She was officially losing it, if she considered that statement sexy. But damn, it was! She wanted to plunder his mouth in a deep kiss that would have them both toppling over until only his floating could keep them from getting hurt.

“We can paint the room now if you still want to. Or –” He let go of her and as she looked at him, she saw him scratch his head and give her a sheepish smile. “You know, I could finish this in about thirty seconds.”

Was that an invitation? Her breath hitched. She studied his face, almost wishing to see a hint of an ulterior motive. But she didn't think he was consciously trying to seduce her.

Yet her mind wandered to all the things she’d rather do with him than paint this room. Like finding out if his hands would feel good exploring her body.

Her cheeks grew hot and she averted her eyes, no longer able to hold his gaze or take in the sight of his lips. Would he guess what she was thinking about? Were there tell-tale signs that he would pick up on with his heightened senses?

Wasn't she just crazy to get all worked up about a fantasy, when she knew that reality would inevitably pale in comparison? It always had and always would, because as soon as things got serious, something inside her just froze up. Did she really want to experience that kind of humiliation with Clark? He’d surely be more understanding about it than Claude, but…

Suddenly, she just wanted to get away from the tension that had grown so thick it was palpable.

“Can’t we just skip painting and go outside?” she asked. “I mean, it’s finally stopped raining and I’d really like to get some fresh air. I was looking forward to some hiking.”

Clark shook his head. “I’d love to! But the ground will be slippery after all the rain and Dorothy said there will be more clouds moving in soon. Even I can't see through thick fog. I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until tomorrow. The weather forecast says it's going to be a sunny day.”

Lois opened her lips to argue but closed them again as she realized he was right. Clinging to him just to keep her footing wasn't going to resolve her problem at all.

Which brought her back to her current dilemma of whether to have him paint the room in thirty seconds or… She had to admit that watching him do it slowly, while she got to admire the ripple of muscles under his shirt seemed more appealing.

More dangerous, too.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Lois took a brush and a small bucket of paint. “Okay, then, let's get started.”

He grinned at her. “So, does this count as doing normal things together? I thought that painting a room would be well past the dating stage.”

It was their usual friendly banter, with an added note of something more. Lois’ heart fluttered. How did he manage to make something as mundane as painting sound romantic? The mere thought of moving in with him one day sent an inexplicable rush of excitement through her. And the warm gleam in his eyes let her believe that he was picturing the same.

As he looked at her, his gaze so full of love, she was painfully aware of his presence. His lips were only inches from hers. She could feel the whiff of his breath. The air seemed to crackle with electricity, sparks flying as they drowned in each other’s eyes. Her whole body ached to close the distance and forget about painting altogether.

Without thinking, she dipped the brush into the paint and colored his nose in cream white.

“Getting cheeky, are we, farmboy?”

He laughed. Then his lips were suddenly on hers, warm and pliant. His tongue darted forward, teasing, caressing…. She moaned into his mouth as he wapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Heat shot through her belly and her desire for him flared. The world around her faded, reduced to the taste of his lips, the sweetness of his kiss and the heat of his body setting her on fire.

The brush threatened to slip from her hand, but he pulled back just in time. As the world swam into focus, Lois felt something sticky on her cheek.

Cream white paint, she realized.

“Turn-about’s fair play.” A wicked smile crossed his lips, then he snatched a paint roll that was lying in a corner of the room. “How about you start painting around the windows and the door while I take care of the walls?”

“Okay. Who’s done first gets to shower first. And no cheating.” She cocked her eyebrow at him.

Clark gave her a solemn nod and dipped his roll into the paint. “Deal.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in an all-too quick kiss, before he turned his attention back on the task at hand.

Lois couldn't help but stare mesmerized as he got rid of the excess paint on a grid. His cocky grin made her knees weak. It was hard to imagine that the same man was able to bend steel with his bare hands. Would anyone believe her if she'd told them that she'd painted a room with Superman?

He paused. “Are you okay?”

Clark's soulful brown eyes looked at her, so full of warmth and concern that she drowned in those dark pools. And didn't take much at all to lose herself in the sight of his lips as she dreamt of more fervent kisses. Good grief, was it hard to stay focused.

Embarrassed, Lois blinked away the haze of longing that was clouding her thoughts. “Of course, why wouldn't I be?”

“I don't know. It's not like you to back out of a competition.” He shrugged and gave his paint role an unnecessary second bath before he once again ran it across the grid.

Lois raised her chin defiantly. “I'm not backing out.”

As if to prove her point, she stuck her brush deep into the paint and hurried toward the next window. And for a short while she even managed to keep her attention on work, telling herself that she was just glancing over her shoulder to check if Clark was working as well.

He was.

And he did a much better job of it than Lois, since her meticulous painting got more and more frequently interrupted by long glances at Clark’s tautening muscles as he moved the paint roll in long, careful strokes up and down the wall.

She hadn't seen him this relaxed in a long time. He was smiling a lot. Now again, she felt his warm lips on the back of her neck when he came for more paint. Or he would briefly wrap his arm around her belly and pull her toward his chest - small moments that stole her breath and made her heart race.

Soon, Lois realized she was making up excuses to seek him out and casually steal another kiss from his lips. There was a strange kind of magnetism, an invisible bond that seemed to pull her back toward him. Never before had she sensed his presence quite like this.

And somehow, between all the kissing and flirting, Clark managed to get paint on the wall. How was he not distracted? How did he keep his wits about him when Lois found that she was floating in a void somewhere between cloud nine and deep confusion.

It was afternoon when Dorothy interrupted the turmoil in Lois’ mind as she entered the room with cupcakes and tea.

“Oh, this is just amazing,” she gushed. “I can't believe you've already painted this much. And you moved all the furniture, Clark. I said you didn't have to.”

He took the tray she carried and set it onto a small table covered in plastic foil. “It was no trouble at all. Thank you for the tea. It's much appreciated.”

“Oh, my pleasure.” She beamed. “Would you be so kind and look after the sink tomorrow?”

“I already did,” Clark mumbled.

For some reason his usual thousand watts smile fell short. Instead he wiped his hands on his shirt, getting rid of not yet dried paint stains. Then he busied himself with pouring one cup of tea for Lois and another one for himself, more focused on his task than the simple feat required. And when he picked a cupcake, it almost seemed like he wanted to hide behind it.

“You’re working too hard.” Dorothy wagged her finger, completely oblivious to Clark’s sudden discomfort. “I thought you were here to take a break.”

He gave half a shrug. “Yeah, something like that.”

He chewed on his bottom lip, the cupcake in his hand all but forgotten. Lois watched him with trepidation. Was he hearing a cry for help or was there something else bothering him?

Lois felt the need to cover up his mood change and smiled at Dorothy, before she grabbed a cupcake from the tray and took a bite.

“You should tashte one,” she encouraged Clark around the pastry in her mouth. “Thesh are delicioush.”

“Thank you, dear.” A blush crept across the older woman's cheeks.

Startled, Clark took a bite of his own and nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely amazing.”

His smile looked forced, but at least he had returned to the present and Dorothy hadn't noticed Clark's strange behavior.

“Well, enjoy your tea and don't work too hard,” she winked at them. “See you two for dinner.”

The door closed behind her. Clark took another bite of his cupcake, now subdued rather than cheerful.

“Are you okay?” Lois came up to him and placed a hand on his chest. “You seem upset.”

He sighed. “I just remembered why we’re really here. Do you think Henderson made any progress? Perhaps we should –“

She shook her head firmly. “You’ve done enough already, Clark. We agreed that you would rest, finally; that we would put all this behind us. You’d tell me the same if places were reversed.”

He cracked a small smile. “Probably.”

“Certainly.” She ran her hand along his cheek and cupped it. “You’ve been working non-stop for days. Superman has his limits and you promised me a whole weekend without him, and without lunatics coming after us.”

“I know.” He looked down. “It's just – the moment I stop working I feel this restlessness, as if I'm never doing enough.”

“This guy had a kryptonite laser. There's not much you can do.”

He sighed. “Sitting idle is much harder than I thought it would be.”

Lois grinned. “Maybe you keep that in mind the next time you tell me to stay put.” At his weak smile, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Have you been hearing cries for help?”

“Nothing the emergency services couldn’t handle.” He shifted his weight, seeming torn.

Lois figured there might have been at least one close call, maybe more. She couldn't imagine how difficult this had to be for him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her head against his chest. He returned the hug and placed a kiss in her hair. As they stood, linked in that embrace, leaning against the window sill, she felt the tension ease out of his muscles.

She tipped her head back and their lips met in a gentle kiss. The world around them faded as his tongue teased the inside of her mouth. She tasted the faint hint of chocolate from the pastry. Heat pooled in her belly. His kisses always felt new and exciting, yet familiar and soothing. They'd always been the natural extension of their intimate friendship.

Even upset, he was no longer as withdrawn as he'd been after the attack. She felt closer to him now because there were no more secrets. She couldn’t get enough of his kiss or enough of him. It was as if a dam had broken, an invisible line that until now had kept them apart. But he was here with her now, without reservations, just Clark and her. His hands explored her back, his fingers caressed her through the fabric of her shirt, playing with the hemline and she wished he’d just move up his hands and touch her for real.

Their kisses turned hungrier, interrupted only by her need to catch a breath. But each time her lips mourned the loss of contact. She pressed her body against his, enjoying the sensation of his firm muscles under her hands. Warmth radiated off him and enveloped her like a cozy blanket.
Suddenly, he stiffened and broke this kiss. His cheeks had turned a shade of crimson. Their gazes met for a moment, but then he cast his eyes down and cleared his throat.

“I… uh… we should probably get back to work,” he rasped.

He raked a hand through his hair and hurried to get some distance between them. Lois stared after him, dazed as he picked up the paint roll and started to attack the largest wall in the room. Her heart was hammering in her chest, her insides burning with unfulfilled need. She wanted this man. Her mind screamed at her to take him up on his offer to paint this room in 30 seconds so they could continue where they’d just left off.

His name was on her lips, but she swallowed it, sinking back against the window sill. Just yesterday she hadn’t been ready to go through with it. Had that changed now or would she chicken out again at the last moment? He’d promised her he’d wait however long she needed. But how long would that be if she kept teasing him?

Lois let out a breath and her gaze drifted toward her own brush. Perhaps he was right to break off here until she was sure she’d be ready to cross that threshold with him.

***

Painting the rest of the room had been a challenge. Clark's muscular forearms were a distraction of their own as was his mere presence whenever he got close. And it seemed they just kept gravitating toward each other, despite their efforts to stay focused on work. A stolen kiss here, a gentle touch there, everything culminated in this painting session being one of the most erotic experiences of Lois' life.

Spelled out like that, it sounded rather pathetic. Reality, however, was anything but pitiful. The air just seemed to sizzle with tension.

Even now, as she dried herself off after a cold shower, she was short of breath and her emotional state was a hot mess. And in a few moments it would be Clark's turn to take that shower. Rivulets of water would stream down his body. Lois’ mind drifted back to that fateful morning when he'd opened the door wearing nothing but a towel. She'd been at a loss for words at the sight of his chiseled chest then, her throat dry and her hands dreaming of exploring his skin.

This time, he wasn't a stranger, not just a fantasy her mind could indulge in. No, Clark was very real and just within her reach. And that possibility was slowly driving her insane.

Lois slipped into a bathrobe and took a deep breath before she opened the door. Clark sat on the sofa, legs crossed. No, that wasn't right. He was hovering a couple of inches above the fabric, reading a book. He turned a page, completely engrossed in his story.

“Your turn,” she rasped.

Clark looked up and closed his book. A smile spread across his lips. He floated toward her, untangled his legs and set them back on the floor as if floating in mid-air was the most normal thing in the world. For him it probably was.

But to Lois any casual display of powers was still new and exciting. She couldn't help but stare at the ripple of muscles as he moved. And in the small room, his body suddenly was only inches from hers. His physical presence seemed to take up the entire space. It was hard to focus on anything else. Her heart was beating faster than it should. She could smell his soft scent, no hint of sweat though he'd been working all day. His forearms were peppered with freckles of dried paint.

Her mind ran wild with fantasies of stepping into the shower with him. She ached to explore his chest, while she lathered his body with soap. Lois’ breath hitched as she felt his hands on her arms. He captured her lips in a fierce kiss that left her dazed.

As she opened her eyes, aching for more, they'd somehow switched places. Now Clark was closer to the bathroom.

“Couldn't pass up the opportunity,” he said huskily.

His cheeks were flushed, his gaze full of passion. For a moment she thought he'd pull her with him and make her fantasies come true. His eyes twinkled and her heart raced. But then the moment passed and he let go of her.

“Be right back.”

With a quick brush of his lips against her cheek, he turned and started to pull up his shirt. She saw a hint of his bare back before the door closed behind him.

The air rushed out of her lungs and Lois sank down on the edge of the bed. Did she want to follow him? Gosh, yes, but she couldn't bring herself to move. Some part of her had hoped he might make the first step, that he'd drag her into this and she could just follow and give herself over to whatever was going to happen inside that shower.

But this was Clark.

He’d promised to wait until she was ready. She just knew he wasn't going to initiate intimacy without her asking him to. But if she did, she should be sure she meant it this time. And the truth of the matter was that she had no idea if she was going to chicken out again. She had precious little experience in seducing guys.

Claude had known exactly what he wanted and at the time she'd thought that she wanted it too. He'd been the worldly Frenchman who should have taught her the ropes of journalism and from whom she'd expected to learn the wonders of making love. The reality of that experience has been sobering on both counts.

Her first time had happened during her college time and hadn't been all that memorable, either. She’d blamed that on the obvious inexperience of both her lover and herself. The prospect of sleeping with Claude had excited her because she'd thought that an experienced lover had to be different.

It had only ended in humiliation, not just because of the story he'd stolen. The way he'd dismissed her and called her an ice queen had been far worse. With Lex she'd avoided intimacy altogether. Though she'd like to believe that her subconscious had warned her to be careful with Lex, she feared she'd really just been scared of another disastrous encounter. So where did that leave her with Clark?

She buried her face in her hands.

“Are you okay, honey?”

She flinched at his voice and felt the mattress buckle underneath him as he sat down next to her. As she looked up, his gaze rested upon her, warm and caring. A small frown creased his features, still he was breathtakingly handsome with his damp hair. Lois’ mouth ran dry as she noticed his naked chest and the faint trail of hair that started below his navel and vanished beneath the towel he had wrapped around his hips.

His cheeks flushed. “Umm, would you be more comfortable if I got dressed first?” He shifted and stood, muttering, “This won’t take but a second.”

She reached for his hand.

“Don’t,” Lois said softly, slightly breathless, too.

She swallowed, trying to get some moisture back into her mouth. Why was this so hard? Perhaps being dressed would make talking to him easier; she was sure it would. But there was a good chance that they’d end up talking about anything but what she should tell him. Even now, she realized she couldn’t say it. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and felt like it wouldn’t move, no matter how hard she might try.

Clark stared back at her, seeming torn for a moment, before he relaxed ever so slightly and sat back down on the bed beside her.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “More bad news from Metropolis?”

She shook her head. “That’s not it. I’m just… I…”

He gave her time. His tongue darted across his lips, just a split second before it vanished again. Yet, it drew her gaze, made her heart race and her mind scream at her to just close the distance and kiss him. A part of her wanted to jump right in without checking the water level like she always did. But that applied to work, not to intimacy.

“I’m nervous, too,” he whispered after a while.

“Nervous about what?” The words were out before she’d really had a chance to think about them. She hadn’t meant to deflect his approach, but it seemed like she couldn’t bring herself to be vulnerable. Not even with him, apparently.

But Clark didn’t even flinch. “Nervous about us making love,” he said. His cheeks adopted an even deeper shade of red. “I…um…I…know you’ve been… thinking about it because –”

He shifted and rubbed his nose, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he fought for the right words. It dawned on her that there was very little that would escape his super senses. She closed her eyes. Of course he would know. He was Superman after all.

“It’s okay, if you’d rather not talk about it.” His hand touched her shoulder in a gentle caress. “But perhaps it would help if you’d just tell me what it is you seem so worried about.”

“It's nothing really,” she mumbled. Surely with time, she'd get over it. If she just jumped right in and did it, like ripping a band-aid off… Gee, that was a romantic thought.

Lois felt Clark tense. “You're afraid of my powers, aren't you?”

“What?” She stared at him. “No. That's not it at all. Why would you think that?”

“Why?” He let out a self-conscious chuckle. “I believe that's kinda obvious!”

Clark kneaded his hands and bit his lower lip. She watched him and forgot about her own fears for a moment. When he was sitting next to her in nothing but a towel it was rather easy to forget that these hands could bend steel. It seemed downright impossible that they'd lifted a space shuttle and saved Earth from an asteroid.

Yet, strangely, it hadn't even occurred to her that Clark might hurt her with his powers.

Why not, indeed?

It was logical, natural even. And no woman before her had known about that aspect. She felt a sudden pang of anger on their behalf.

“I guess it was easier when they didn't know, huh?” she heard herself say.

He stared back at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“The women you've been with before, they didn't know about your powers, did they?”

A blush crept across his cheeks. “I've only ever told you. But then I never let things get so far that there was any chance of me losing control.”

The words hung in the air between them. Lois tried to wrap her head around what they meant. Had Clark just said that he’d never… that she’d be his first? Surely he couldn’t mean that.

“You’ve never made love before?” she rasped.

He nodded. “You can’t exactly call it mutual consent if one party has no idea what they’re agreeing to. And I get that it takes time. I promise that I would never do anything to hurt you. We can take it however slow you’d like, however slow we need.”

Clark reached out and cupped her cheek. He ran his thumb across it in a caress so gentle it sent goose-bumps down her spine. She covered his hand with hers and tilted her head a bit and kissed his palm. It dawned on her that she wasn’t the only one who was scared here. Like he’d said, he was nervous, too, afraid of hurting her. Deep down, she knew he wouldn’t, no matter how strong he was.

Guilt rippled through her as she realized that she owed him the truth. “I’m not afraid you might hurt me.”

He raised his brows. “You’re not?”

Lois took a deep breath. “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”

He smiled. “That’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that,” she cried. “Somehow I seem to ruin it for them. I can’t seem to relax, I –”

Clark shushed her with the tip of his finger. It felt soft and warm against her lips. Her racing heart calmed as he traced them, leaving a pleasant tingle in his wake. His finger trailed further until his large hand cupped her cheek. He dipped his head to kiss her and her fears seemed to melt like snow in the sun under the warmth of his touch. His lips always helped her forget.

The world stopped turning. There was only Clark and the overwhelming urge to get closer. Her hands found his chest and explored his skin. Their kiss grew hungrier, needy. She couldn’t get enough of his taste, of the silky cavern of his mouth, of his tongue that flickered against hers and made her wish they would never have to stop.

Gasping for air, she had to break the kiss eventually. Clark wore the same silly smile she knew she had on her own face.

He winked at her. “See, there’s nothing to worry about!”

The voice of doubt wouldn’t be quiet. “But what if…?”

“What are you afraid of?” he whispered. “That it might not be the best time we’ll ever have? I sure hope it won’t be!” A wicked smile crossed his lips. “I don’t have any expectations here, Lois. Being with you is what will make it perfect in my eyes, because I know you’re the woman I’ve been waiting for. Everything else will come with time.”

Her breath hitched. Lois stared back at him and saw the love and the sincerity in his gaze. He meant it. She could tell that much. Her fears settled and for the first time since they’d started this strange trip, she felt truly at ease.

Clark smiled at her and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a minute gesture and yet loaded with all that unresolved tension of the past few hours. The air crackled with anticipation.

“Make love to me,” she said.

“Are you sure? There is no rush. I'm not going to back out.”

She nodded. “Show me that you mean it. Just yesterday you were ready to give up.”

“Touché.” He batted down his eyes. “I wasn't thinking straight.”

“But I am. And I need you.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but she sealed his lips with a kiss. She climbed on top of him until she straddled his lap. He moaned into her mouth. His hands caressed her back and worked their way under the fabric, exposing her shoulders and chest.

For a moment he broke the kiss and stared at her in awe. She could see the gleam in his eyes as he swallowed hard and licked his lips. His reaction gave her an incredible sense of power.

“You're gorgeous,” he whispered.

With a trembling hand he reached out and touched her. She shuddered at his gentle caress. Completely taken by the effect his ministrations had on her, Lois closed her eyes. Sparks of pleasure ignited a fire in her belly.

She captured his lips once more. Her hands roamed his chest, impatient to remove the towel that was still wrapped around his hips. She tugged at it and found that it wouldn’t budge with her sitting on his lap. With a growl of frustration she rolled off of him.

He moaned his protest, trying to maintain the contact as her lips left his. They were both gasping for breath. Once again, her hands worked their way down his abdomen until she found the hem of the towel…

They took their time exploring each other, making gentle love until Lois' world exploded in a million stars. She was floating in his arms, both literally and figuratively.

As the world around her swam back into focus, the first thing she saw clearly was Clark’s warm smile. He looked at her as if she were everything his world consisted of right now. She felt the same way. Nothing mattered but the love in his eyes that seeped into her every pore and made her own heart burst with happiness. Because without him, she’d be lost. These few long hours, when she’d been afraid that she might never see him again…

“I’ll never let you go,” she whispered. “This was… so much more than I ever expected.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “So much better than I ever dared to hope for.”

He smiled and kissed away the salty droplet. Slowly, Clark lowered them back onto the bed, side by side. “It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. Thank you so much.”

He pulled her toward him and covered her with the blanket. She snuggled into his embrace, inhaling the familiar scents of soap and cologne that always soothed her. His warmth spread through her, cozy as ever. In his arms, she could push away the darkness until almost losing him seemed like nothing but a distant memory. He was here with her, truly at her side and no longer a shadow of himself, but the man she loved so much.

She kissed his cheek, feeling the strange urge to make up for all the missed opportunities and hurt feelings in their past. But here they were, starting over with no secrets left to separate them.

“I love you,” she whispered thickly.

He kissed her hair. “Love you, too. I can’t believe I was ready to push you out of my life. Without you, I’d be lost.”

“Me too, Clark.” And for a moment she remembered how, before meeting him, she’d merely existed. “Me too.”

The End

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Happy Ficlet Friday!
I was not planning to post anything today. But my daughter wrote a little story which inspired me to write a little something myself. I also realized that poor Krypto hasn’t been out for a walk in a while so I’m going to jump in and take on the Walk the Dog Challenge.

I believe the rules state that the story can take place at any time in Krypto’s existence, so I’m going to jump into the future with this one. Credit goes to my daughter, SK, for the original story “Coco and the Wolves,” included with her permission.

Walk the Dog: Storytime
By AmandaK and SK

Krypto’s tongue lolled out of his mouth as he yawned widely. Plodding into the living room, he leapt up onto the couch and made himself comfortable next to Clark’s boy-pup, Jon. Jon was using one of those devices that flashed lights and made noise, but he spared a hand to scratch Krypto behind the ear, much to the dog’s delight.

“Mom doesn’t like it when you get on the couch, Krypto,” Jon said but he continued scratching.

Krypto just huffed and tilted his head to give the boy better access.

Suddenly, a flurry of footsteps preceded another small human into the room. Clark’s girl-pup, Laura, stopped and looked around before spying Jon and plopping herself on the boy’s other side.

“Jon! Jon! Read my story!” Laura insisted. She pushed a piece of paper into her brother’s lap.

Jon frowned and pushed the paper back. “Have Mom read it.”

“Mom’s at work.”

“Then, have Dad read it.”

“Dad’s making dinner.”

“Dad can read it in like a second.”

“But I want you to read it. Please!”

Krypto huffed again and looked up at the pups. He wished they would stop bickering.

Jon rolled his eyes but put his device down and took the paper. “Fine. What’s your story called?”

“It’s called, Coco and the Wolves,” Laura answered with a smile.

Jon started to read. “Mom had a dog. The dog was named Coco.” Jon paused. “He should be named Krypto.”

Krypto lifted his head at the sound of his name and woofed softly.

“Krypto is Dad’s dog.”

“Krypto is totally Mom’s dog.”

“Whatever. Just keep reading.”

“Coco went in to a cave – into should be one word.”

“Don’t edit my copy. Just read!”

“The cave had wolves. The wolves went after Coco. Coco ran away. Mom hugged Coco and they lived happily ever after. The end.”

Laura grinned at her brother. “I wrote it all by myself. Did you like it?”

Jon shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. It’d be better if it was Krypto though. Krypto wouldn’t run away from dumb wolves. He’d get them with his heat vision.”

“But it’s not about Krypto.”

“Well, it should be.”

“I can’t spell Krypto.”

“That’s easy! It’s K-R- um… uh…”

“See! You can’t spell it either.”

“Dad! How do you spell Krypto?” Jon called. Then the boy pushed himself up off the couch and started for the kitchen with Laura right behind him.

Krypto let out another yawn and smacked his mouth a few times. Then he rolled on his back and sprawled over the full length of the couch. Human pups were strange.

So, you've written a fic, right? Or maybe you're in the process of writing one.

Most likely, that story's universe is now different from the main LnC canon in some way, right? Its own little world, yeah?

Now...write a new story set in that world. It may or may not be "canon" to your original fic; maybe your story had Clark fighting Lex Luthor's Crazy Sister, but you want to write about them playing cards together instead. Anything goes; this is just an excuse to explore these worlds and characters a little more.

Hello!
I am looking for someone to beta and/or let me bounce ideas off of for a story I started years ago and desperately want to finish. To be honest, I'm not sure if:
- my original idea needs to be thrown out and take the pieces of it that I still like and put them in a new story.
- finish the original idea and make this story a completely independent story
- ditch the new stuff I've written and go back to the original premise

The original story is titled Zenith and has 5 parts posted on fanfiction.net. It explores the possibility that Superman's blindness was not reversed and so he leaves Metropolis to begin a new life somewhere else to keep people connecting a blind Superman to a blind Clark Kent. Let me know if you have any questions and/or would be interested in helping out. Thank you!

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Happy Ficlet Friday!
Today’s story is a standalone fic (for now… maybe), unrelated to TNTCA. It is an AU where Clark, and the world as a whole technically, had a different past than in the series. Much will be revealed as you read but don’t expect everything to get wrapped up neatly. It’s something of a no context story. I don’t know if or when I’ll continue it. But I’ve had these scenes in my head for awhile just begging to be written, so here they are.

Special thanks to QueenoftheCapes and CarrieRene for helping me hash out a title.

District K: Injustice
By AmandaK

Clark Kent allowed his eyes to wander as Perry White silently perused his portfolio. He was slightly bemused by the abundance of Elvis memorabilia, but he did not comment on it or otherwise distract the Daily Planet’s editor-in-chief.

His gaze finally came to rest on the large windows which graced the back wall of the office, or rather on what lie beyond them. It was a beautiful view. Metropolis was a beautiful city. He would love to stay there, to finally have a place he could truly call his own. But finding a permanent home hinged on being able to find permanent employment – a goal which had proved nearly impossible for him over the last four years.

He had decided to apply to the Daily Planet at the insistence of a friend, whom he had met at a journalism conference a few months ago. It was a long shot. He knew that. But the prospect of working for the top newspaper in the country was too tempting to pass up.

“Well, son,” Perry White said, drawing Clark’s attention back to him. “This is some mighty fine reporting you’ve done here.” He tapped the sheaf of papers on their end to straighten them out. “You’ve got a knack for conveying the facts, while still drawing the reader in an holding their interest.”

“Thank you, Mr. White.” Clark tried not to fidget as he awaited the editor’s verdict.

“The Daily Planet could certainly –” the editor’s next words were cut off as his office door slammed open and a human whirlwind blew in, pushing aside Clark’s portfolio to lay her own sheaf of papers front and center on the desk.

“Perry, you have got to look at this. There is a big story here. I just know it!” The small tornado gesticulated wildly as she spoke, effortlessly making herself the center of attention.

Clark bit his lip to keep himself from chuckling. She hadn’t changed a bit.

“Lois! Haven’t you ever heard of knocking? I’m in the middle of an interview.” Mr. White gestured to Clark and the woman reported tossed a glance over her shoulder before opening her mouth once more – to argue that her story was more important, no doubt.

But she didn’t get that far.

She froze suddenly, her mind finally processing who she had seen behind her. Then she spun around, her eyes wide with excitement and a brilliant smile gracing her face. “Clark! You’re here! You applied? Oh, this is just perfect! I need you on my team for this. Perry, you have to hired him.”
Clark had stood up but didn’t bother trying to get a word in edgewise. He just grinned.

“Hold up, Lois.” Perry interrupted. “You know Mr. Kent, here?”

“Of course, I know him.” Lois said. “He was my partner at the journalism conference back in February. You remember. I told you about him.”

Perry blinked a few times, digging back for whatever memory she was referencing. “Ah, yes. I seem to recall you saying he was the only reporter who could keep up with you, the only one you’d accept as a partner.”

The editor’s eyes danced as he repeated her words and Clark suddenly found himself hopeful that he might actually get this job. He hadn’t wanted to mention his connection to Lois Lane, wanting to earn his position by his own merits. But, well, since she decided to interrupt the interview, he might as well let it play out.

“That’s the one!” Lois replied and her hand suddenly came to rest on Clark’s chest, causing his breath to catch in his throat. He had to force his mind not to wander back to those delightful evenings they had spent together at the conference. He’d never met anyone like her. She fascinated him on every level. But this wasn’t the time or place for reminiscing – or daydreaming.

“Well, then,” Mr. White continued. “Why don’t you get out of here and let me finish my interview?”

Lois nodded. “Right. But I still want to talk to you about this story.” Then she looked up at Clark and smiled. “Meet me at my desk when you’re done in here.”

She left just as swiftly as she had arrived, the door slamming shut behind her. Mr. White shook his head. “Sorry, about that. Lois is a force to be reckoned with.”

“I know it.” Clark replied. He suddenly realized that he was still staring at the spot where Lois had disappeared and swiftly readjusted his focus back to the editor.

Mr. White had an indecipherable look on his face. Clark wondered what the older man was thinking. Did he realize that Clark was attracted to his top reporter? Just what was the Daily Planet’s policy on interoffice dating? Would Lois even agree to go on another date with him?

Clark mentally shook off his wayward stream of questions and tried to put on an air of professional confidence.

“As I was saying, before we were interrupted,” Mr. White shuffled through the new pile of papers on his desk, relocating Clark’s portfolio. “The Daily Planet could certainly use a writer with your strengths.”

Clark breathed slowly, stifling the urge to celebrate prematurely.

“That, combined with Lois’s, ahem, glowing recommendation, brings me to a fairly solid conclusion.” Mr. White stood up and reached across the desk to offer his hand. “Welcome to the Daily Planet, Mr. Kent.”

Clark couldn’t hold back his smile as he shook the editor’s hand. He could hardly believe it. This was really happening. He was going to work for the top newspaper in the country – and with Lois.

He was so excited that it took him a moment to realize, Mr. White had stopped smiling and was frowning pointedly at Clark’s extended arm.

Clark dropped his gaze to his own forearm, where his shirt sleeve had ridden up farther than he would normally allow. The band on his arm wasn’t so different from that of a wristwatch, except that it had no discernable clasp and the medallion at its center wasn’t a watch. A glowing, green letter K stood out plainly against the otherwise black metal.

Clark sighed and slowly dropped his hand, pointlessly pulling his sleeve back down as he did so.

Mr. White sat back down heavily, opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally breaking the silence which had settled over the office. “Is, uh, is that what I think it is?”

Clark sighed again but forced himself to meet the editor’s gaze steadily. “Yes, sir.”

“So, you’re a… uh…”

“Yes, sir.” Clark repeated, not waiting for the man to finish his question. There was no point. Everyone knew what the green K stood for. Taking a deep breath, Clark asked the question which had the potential to shatter his hopes. “Will this…” he lifted his arm slightly. “…affect my being hired?”

Mr. White leaned back slowly and let out a heavy breath of his own. “You know, son, I really wish I could say it doesn’t. However, the newspaper board…”

He trailed off and Clark suddenly found that he didn’t want to hear it. Not again. He stood up and gathered his things, taking his portfolio off Mr. White’s desk. “I understand,” he said. “Thank you for your time, Mr. White.”

He forced himself to keep his steps even as he left the office and headed for the ramp up to the elevator. He didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary. He couldn’t bare to face Lois now. She would want to know why. And if he told her… she’d look at him differently. They all did.

“Clark!” her voice caught him halfway up the ramp. His steps faltered, torn between running the rest of the way out of the building and turning to face her one last time. “Where are you going? I need you with me for this story. Perry better not have given you something else.”

She grabbed him by the arm and steered him back down the ramp and towards her desk before he could protest.

Sighing heavily, he figured he ought to bite the bullet and tell her before she got started into whatever she was working on. “Lois, I…. I can’t work on this story with you.”

“What do you mean, you can’t? Listen, whatever puff piece Perry gave you can wait. I’ll handle the Chief. Now, this is what I have so far –”

“No. Lois, you don’t understand. I didn’t get the job.”

She paused, blinking up at him as though his words didn’t make any sense. “You didn’t…” Then she frowned sharply. “What?! How could you not get the job? Perry was practically salivating over the idea of my finally accepting a partner.”

Clark shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter why. I just didn’t.”

“No.” Lois jabbed a finger at his chest and repeated herself firmly, “No. You are going to march back in there and demand an answer. There is absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t have a job here.”

“No. Lois, it’s fine. I don’t need to –”

“It is not fine! Let’s go.” She grabbed his arm again and propelled him back towards Mr. White’s office. The moment they were both inside, she slammed the door shut and turned on her editor-in-chief. “Perry, what is this? Why didn’t you hire Clark?”

Clark wished the ground would just open up and swallow him. “Lois, please don’t.”

But Lois wasn’t listening. She barreled on – “You’ve read his work. Surely you can see that he’s perfect for the Daily Planet.”

Mr. White cleared his throat and looked awkwardly back at his top reporter. “Well, Lois, it’s really not my place to say…”

“You must have a reason.” Lois pressed. “What is it?”

Mr. White’s gaze shifted to Clark and he lifted a hand in a helpless gesture. “Kent?”

Clark bit back another heavy sigh. He didn’t want to do this. But Lois wasn’t going to stop until she had an answer and Mr. White was too good a man to out him without permission.

Lois looked back at Clark and suddenly seemed to realize that he knew perfectly well why he didn’t get hired, but didn’t want to tell her. “Clark, what is it?” she asked, gently.

Just do it, he told himself. Reaching across his body, he pushed his right sleeve back just far enough to reveal the black armband emblazoned with the letter K. He watched her face as he did so, waiting for the kind look in her eyes to devolve into fear and hatred. He didn’t want to see it and yet, he couldn’t look away either.

Lois blinked twice and her mouth parted in a silent gasp as she registered what she was seeing. Then her eyes flew up to his and her head tilted to the side, curiously. “You’re Kryptonian?” she whispered.

Clark found himself unable to speak, so he nodded mutely. He could hardly believe that there wasn’t a trace of fear or revulsion in her eyes. He’d already know that she was unlike any woman he’d ever met, but this was something else. He’d never expected that any human woman could accept him for what he was – an alien.

Before he could let his thoughts wander too far down that path, the kindness vanished from her eyes and a fire lit behind them.

Clark shut his own eyes. Of course, it was too good to be true.

But when Lois spoke again, her ire wasn’t directed at him. “That’s why you won’t hire him?!” she turned on Mr. White like a dragon ready to strike. “Because he’s Kryptonian? Perry White, I can’t believe you! I never imagined that you, of all people, could show such prejudice!”

“Now, Lois, you know that’s not me.” Mr. White stood up and laid a calming hand on his irate reporter. “I don’t care if he’s human, Kryptonian, or Martian so long as he can write well and bring me headlines. But the suits upstairs… well, you know as well as anyone how prevalent anti-Kryptonian feelings are on the board and among our readers too. Ever since the invasion –”

“What invasion?!” Lois cut him off. “The Kryptonians came in peace. Just because a few hotheads thought they could mount an insurrection and take over the world, doesn’t mean the entire race should be held accountable. Yet, they’ve all been confined to District K for the past fifteen years.”

Clark felt he should at least make an attempt to smooth things. “We’re not confined anymore,” he began, but Lois ran over the top of anything else he might say.

“Oh, yes. How could I forget? Now you can leave, but only if you wear an armband laced with a radioactive substance – the only substance known to hurt Kryptonians.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm and she wasn’t finished. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, they mark it with a glowing, green K so that everyone can tell who’s an alien and who’s not. I’m sorry, but how can we not all see the injustice going on here?!”

“Lois, I’m not saying that any of it is right,” Perry said. “It’s just the way things are.”

“It’s racism! We should be holding protests to put a stop to this, not taking part in it with discriminatory hiring practices. The Daily Planet ought to be leading the charge, like they did during the Civil Rights Movement. And you!” Lois suddenly spun around, turning the full force of her fervent tirade on Clark. “How can you just stand there and accept this?”

Clark took a step back, ill-prepared to defend himself in this. “I… it’s no use. This is why I’ve stuck to freelancing. No one will hire a Kryptonian.”

“Then why aren’t you and the other Kryptonians out there fighting for your rights? Do you all just accept being permanently unemployed?”

Clark shook his head. “As far as I know… I’m the only Kryptonian who lives outside of District K. Everyone else works the mines or has Kryptonian jobs within the colony.”

Both Lois and Perry looked taken aback at this revelation. “Wait,” Lois said. “I thought they made enough armbands for everyone. I thought the Kryptonians could come and go as they please.”

“We can. And some do come and go. But, for the most part, everyone stays in or near District K.”

“Except you.”

“Except me.” Clark acknowledged. He watched Lois open and close her mouth a few times, clearly wanting to ask more questions – most of which he had no desire to answer while standing in the office of his might-have-been employer.

Fortunately, Lois seemed to realize they were getting off on a tangent. She shook her head. “Regardless, you ought to have the right to seek gainful employment. We have laws about that.”

Clark shrugged. “But do those laws apply to Kryptonians? We’re not exactly considered American citizens.”

“You’re not here illegally either,” Lois countered. Then she turned back to her boss. “Perry are you sure you can’t go over the Board’s head on this. They don’t even need to know he’s Kryptonian.”

But Mr. White was already shaking his head. “If they find out and learn that I knew and hired him anyway, I could lose my job. I’m sorry, Lois. My hands are tied.”

Lois frowned and was quiet for a moment. “Well, I’m not afraid to risk losing my job over this,” she finally said with an uncompromising edge to her voice. “I may not be able to give Clark the job he deserves, but you can bet I’ll be writing an editorial about this. And if the Daily Planet won’t print it, I’ll find someone who will.”

Mr. White opened his mouth as if to protest, but shut it again without speaking. He merely sighed and waved his hand dismissively, clearly aware that nothing he said would stop Lois once she set her mind to something.

With a sharp nod, Lois turned and grabbed Clark’s arm for the third time that day. He followed along mutely as she led him out of the editor’s office and up the ramp towards the elevators. As they waited for the car to arrive, Clark wondered at the amazing woman by his side. He’d never imagined that anyone, aside from his parents, would fight for him with such passion and determination. Lois Lane was a force to be reckoned with and, while he didn’t think she would be able to make much of a difference in this particular case, he looked forward to seeing her try.

The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside but Lois didn’t select a number. The moment the doors were shut, she wrapped her arms around his chest in a tight embrace, causing Clark’s breath to catch in his throat. They’d hugged before, at the end of the conference when they’d said goodbye, but this was different.

“I’m so sorry, Clark,” she whispered into his chest. Then she leaned back to look him in the eye. “This isn’t fair. And I swear to you, I will find a way to make it right.”

Clark sighed and shook his head. “Thank you, Lois. But it’s not worth it. I’m just one man. No one is going to care whether or not I can get a job.”

“I care.”

Somehow, those two words gave Clark the courage to believe that maybe she could make a difference. Maybe not for him, right now, but for Kryptonians in general, in the long run. If anyone could change the world, it was this small woman, right here in his arms.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked.

Clark shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve only got enough money for a few more days in Metropolis. If I can’t find a job by the end of the week, I guess I’ll be headed back to Smallville.”

Lois tilted her head to one side, a thousand questions shinning behind her eyes. “Not District K?”

“No. District K was never my home.” Sighing again, he cut her off before she could continue her questions. “Listen Lois, I don’t want to give an interview or be the subject of a story.”

If she was disappointed by his words, she didn’t show it. She shook her head and looked down at her feet. “I’ll admit, I’ve always wanted the chance to interview a Kryptonian. So little is known about your race, your culture, your home world.”

“I’m not your average Kryptonian,” Clark pointed out but didn’t elaborate.

“I’m starting to see that.” She looked up and smiled gently. “And I do want to know everything about you. But you were my friend first, Clark. Anything you tell me is strictly off-the-record unless you say otherwise.”

Clark found himself smiling back at her, somehow no longer so upset that he didn’t get the job. He still had Lois. And he couldn’t ask for a better friend. “Thank you.”

Before either of them could say anymore, the elevator doors slid open again, revealing a frantic copy boy who stopped short and looked between them. “Uh… hi, Lois,” he said nervously. “Are you still using the elevator? Cause the Chief needs me to get down to obituaries and uh…”

“It’s fine, Jimmy,” Lois said to the younger man before turning back to Clark. “I need to get back to work myself.”

Clark nodded. “And I should probably see if I can find some.”

“Call me tonight, okay?” she said as she stepped off the elevator, making room for Jimmy to step in.

“I will.”

The elevator doors closed between them but, for the first time in years, Clark no longer felt completely cut off from humanity.

Chapter 3: Sharing

Jon watched as Jordan closed his eyes on the couch.

“How long till the super hearing levels out?” Lois asked.

“My parents said probably a week if I show him how to control it, so I'll help him begin adapting tomorrow, once he's rested,” Clark answered. “It's really up to him though. No one can do it for him.”

“How long were you out of commission for?” Jon asked.

“A couple weeks,” Clark admitted. “But I didn't have the special headphones and had no idea how to focus or even that I needed to focus. My parents did their best to help, but there wasn't much they could do. We hadn't understood what was happening then.”

Lois grimaced sympathetically before looking resolute. “So hopefully Jordan will have an easier time of it than you did.”

Clark smiled. “I hope so. Ironically, the imbalance is also helping him here by serving as a bit of an inhibitor. My mother believes that will help him adjust. She also detected that the imbalance is equalizing some.”

“So the imbalance is shrinking? It'll eventually disappear?” Jon asked, hopeful.

Clark nodded, clearly relieved as well. “Yes, that's what my mother believes, though she doesn't know how long it will take.”

“I’ll call Principal Balcomb and Tann first thing in the morning,” Lois said, squeezing Clark's hand.

“So what about his riding lessons?” Jon asked. “I mean, this happened at the Darrens, right? What are they going to think about Jordan now? They have to know what happened wasn't normal. I mean, they saw light flashing out of his head!”

“I'm going to talk to them tonight, because you're right,” Clark said, resigned.

Jon's eyes widened. “You mean . . . are you going to tell them?”

Clark glanced at Lois before looking back at him. He slowly nodded. “We'd rather them know the truth than draw . . . damaging conclusions.”

Jon grimaced in grim understanding.

O o O o O

Will didn't know what to think. It was why he was still at his brother's house instead of home with his wife. His mind was currently mush. He had no idea what to do, he only knew he couldn't risk telling anyone what had happened.

Clark’s boy, a kid he had been instructing for weeks, had suffered a bizarre seizure before being whisked away by Superman that afternoon. He was still struggling to grasp what had even happened.

How Superman had just appeared, telling them to call Lois, before shooting away with Jordan the next second.

And Jordan had called out ‘Dad’.

Why had he done that? Had it been from a subconscious realization that he had needed help, so had fallen back to some primitive impulse to call for a parent even though neither were there?

But then why had Superman responded? Sure, he had super hearing, but to have responded so quickly when no one had called out ‘Superman!’ . . . ?

And, the fact remained, that had NOT been a normal seizure – or at least not a human one.

Jordan’s head and ears had been flashing with red and white light as his body seized.

Was Jordan . . . not Clark’s?

Was the reason why Superman had responded so swiftly because he always kept an ear out . . . for his son?

Did Clark know?

Lord, he hoped so.

He looked up at his brother, Nick.

“Do you think he knows?” Will asked, resuming the conversation that they had been having off and on for the last few hours.

“Lord, I hope so,” Nick stated before growing contemplative.

“What?” Will asked.

“He's got to know. Him and Lois . . . there's no way that love can be faked. But if Jordan is . . . not Clark’s, then Jon might not be either,” Nick pointed out.

Will nodded in agreement before taking a deep breath. “But if he knows. . . . Man, what would that mean?” Will rubbed his hand across his face, at a loss.

“You know . . . maybe it was an arrangement,” Nick slowly theorized, always the one to seek the happiest answers in the attempt to make sense of chaos.

“What?” Will asked, bewildered.

“No, no, think about it. Clark was sick how often as a kid? A LOT. You remember Mom and Dad talking about how worried his parents were about him all the time? Maybe whatever was going on prevented him from being able to have kids?”

Will lifted an eyebrow. “So then they asked Superman to be their donor?! Seriously?! Nick, that's really reaching.”

“Is it? Lois Lane named Superman, the only survivor of his people. Maybe they talked and she learned he didn't want to be the last of his kind? And come on, I know you remember Superman's first TV interview. His attraction to her was obvious. So, is it really a stretch that they saw an opportunity to make everyone happy and took it? Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if Clark was the one who proposed it!”

Will couldn't help it. He started laughing. “Nick, do you hear yourself?!”

“Well, what's the alternative then?” Nick countered.

“You know the alternative, and while I don't like it, it's a bit more believable and realistic,” Will said, no longer laughing and suddenly deflated. “No one likes to admit heroes we adore make mistakes, but. . . .”

“You think they had an affair,” Nick stated flatly.

“Well, it is the most likely scenario, and Clark is the forgiving type, and I don't see Superman making a bad situation worse by lying about it or forcing Lois to hide it from Clark. They would have worked through it, and by the exchange I had on the phone with her, it sounded like they had. She had said they'd explain.”

“I guess,” Nick said grudgingly.

“Though, I don't know if she meant Clark and herself or herself and Superman. . . .”

“Or all three of them,” Nick interjected, still holding onto his optimistic theory.

Will shook his head. He and his brother both loved the Kent family, and the idea of Clark, ‘little Kent’ (he was over five years younger than them), being put in such a position was disheartening. What would Martha have thought? Or had she known?

Suddenly, they heard a knock at the door and startled.

They looked at each other before getting up.

“Clark?!” Nick asked, surprised as he opened the door.

“Hi! Uh, sorry. Tami said you both were here when I called Will's place and she said to just come on over,” Clark explained in a rush.

“Oh, no problem,” Will said in a daze, coming beside Nick. “So is, uh, is everything okay? Is Jordan okay?”

Clark smiled nervously. “Yeah, he'll be fine. He's home now.”

Nick, realizing they were just standing there dumbly, quickly stepped aside and motioned him in. “Oh, sorry! Come in, come in! I, uh, doubt you want to talk out here.”

Clark smiled appreciatively and entered, though he looked incredibly anxious. Will didn't blame him. He was pretty nervous himself.

They sat down in the living room, gathering around the coffee table. They all knew the coming conversation would be unlike any they had had before and Will had no clue what to expect.

Where was Lois? What had happened? What would happen now?

“Thank you for calling Lois and being as calm as you were on the phone,” Clark began, clasping his hands together.

Will waved away his thanks. “I'm just glad Jordan's okay, or will be okay. It looked . . . pretty serious,” Will said as Nick nodded.

“It's, uh, we weren't sure if it'd be, uh, this is, I mean–sorry. I'm . . . this is – Wow, sorry. This is hard,” Clark floundered.

“Clark, it's alright. You can relax,” Will said, his own nerves calming as he saw how flustered Clark was.

“Yeah, Clark. It’s okay. We figured . . . we figured it out,” Nick said.

Clark’s eyes widened. “You did?”

“Yeah, and we want you to know, no matter how this happened, we will always do everything we can to help your family. We understand this can never get out,” Nick said.

“And although we can only guess at the exact circumstances, we know Jordan's . . . biological father is, well . . . Superman,” Will said with a side glance at Nick.

“Oh. Um. Well, that is . . . uh, true, but there's a bit, um, more to it than that,” Clark stumbled. “You see. . . .” He stopped, frustrated by his inability to speak a coherent sentence. He took a deep shuddering breath. “Okay.”

Will blinked as Clark stood up and walked a few steps away before turning back around. He forced himself to relax as his eyes settled on them.

“Very few people in the world know this. It’s . . . it’s a dangerous secret, and I’m sorry for involving you because it’s definitely not an easy secret to keep either,” Clark said.

“It’s okay, Clark. We’ll keep the secret with you,” Will promised.

“Yeah. Blood or not, your boys are Kents,” Nick agreed, reinforcing what the whole town had declared after the whole Coach Gaines fiasco.

Clark swallowed thickly and pursed his lips, barely keeping the sudden lump in his throat from overwhelming him. He gruffly cleared it away with a cough. “Thank you. That means, that means a lot.” He cleared his throat again. “But you need to know something else. Jordan, and Jon, they are blood. My blood. They’re truly mine,” he clarified, before taking off his glasses, fully exposing his face.

Will reared back, his brain slowly processing the impossibility before him.

“Y-you’re . . . Superman?” Nick gasped, grasping the reality a bit faster than Will.

Clark smiled sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“What?” Will asked, flabbergasted. “But, but, as a kid, you were sick all the time!”

“I wasn't exactly sick,” Clark-Superman said apologetically. “I was just . . . developing powers. Whenever I missed school, I was learning to control them.”

Nick gasped again. “So what's happening to Jordan. . . .”

“Happened to me,” Clark admitted.

“Whoa,” Will breathed, looking Clark up and down.

He really was Superman. He could see it now!

Will forced himself to refocus. “Uh, please, sit down,” he said.

He could hardly think with Superman standing up.

Clark tentatively returned to the chair across from them and put his glasses back on.

“So what exactly happened today?” Will asked, latching onto the first thing that surfaced to help ground him.

Something other than the reality that Superman was in his house and that he was really Clark Kent.

Oh, wow! Martha and Jonathan Kent had raised Superman! His family was friends with the Man of Steel! Superman had played at his family's farm as a kid! Ridden their horses! Helped them build the barn out back!

“Jordan’s, uh, super hearing kicked in. It takes time to learn how to control,” Clark said, drawing Will back to the present. “The whole collective sonic frequency is intense without control and can cause, well, what you saw.”

“How long did it take you to learn how to control it?” Nick asked, his eyes perpetually wide.

“A couple weeks. We're hopeful it won't take him as long since I'm teaching him. When it happened to me, well, Mom and Dad were playing it by ear. No pun intended,” Clark said, and Will could see he was beginning to relax, though still wary.

“How old were you? No, wait, were you about eight?” Will asked, thinking back.

Clark startled. “Yeah. How did you know?”

“It was right before I got my driver's permit. I overheard our parents talking about how your . . . dad had rushed home after a call from your mom. You had collapsed or something? After that, we didn't see you for weeks,” Will recalled.

Clark nodded, looking a little dazed by that tidbit. “Yeah. I collapsed in the kitchen. It had been too overwhelming.”

“Does Jordan have any other powers?” Nick suddenly asked, growing excited and curious. “Since your hearing came in when you were eight and Jordan's at, what, fourteen, does that mean his powers will all mature later? Is that because he's half-kryptonian? What about Jon?”

“Nick!” Will said, scandalized by his brother's shameless nosiness.

Clark laughed, surprising Will.

“It's okay. It's actually . . . nice to be able to talk about it,” he said, relaxing. “And yeah, since they're half-kryptonian, we're not sure how much the twins will be like me yet. For the longest time they seemed completely, well, human. We don't know what to expect to be honest. A year ago, they weren't really absorbing sunlight, but now they are.”

“Is this the first display of a power?” Nick asked.

Clark grimaced. “Technically, the first was right after my mom's memorial service.”

Will and Nick both stilled. “The accident in the barn?” Nick asked.

“Yeah. The twins are nowhere near as . . . sturdy as I am, but they've become a bit harder to hurt, thankfully,” Clark admitted.

“Wow. Is there . . . stuff we should look out for? I mean, when Jordan’s ready to return to his lessons, how might other powers surface?” Will asked, suddenly wondering if other powers were as . . . alarming when they first manifested.

His thoughts inevitably went to heat vision.

Clark straightened, troubled. “Um. I suppose any changes to his vision. Or if he comments on having a headache or being dizzy, that could be the start of an optical ability. X-Ray vision for me was very disorienting when it first showed up. And as for heat vision . . . that's emotionally driven, but it came with migraines first.”

Clark looked at them hesitantly, and Will was struck by the emotion within and knowing this was also Superman. “I, uh, understand if you'd rather not continue–”

“Don't finish that sentence!” Will exclaimed, surprising even himself.

Clark blinked at him. Will took a deep breath. Grief, he had just yelled at Superman!

“Look, I'm not going to lie and say I'm not totally freaking out on the inside right now, because I am, but this isn't going to stop us from doing what we've been doing since our family first met yours,” Will explained.

Clark swallowed and nodded his gratitude. “Thanks. You two are, well, the first outside the family to learn. I wasn't sure how you'd react. I know it's a lot.”

“It's going to take a bit to sink in, that's for sure,” Nick admitted. “I mean, you're Superman!”

Clark smiled nervously.

“The kid who got in trouble for sneaking chocolate bacon to snack on during class grew up to be Superman,” Will added, amused, before his thoughts abruptly went elsewhere. “Oh man! Tal-Rho is your brother! And you got stabbed!”

Clark rubbed the back of his neck with a chuckle. “Yeah. . . .”

Will shook his head, feeling rather scrambled. “And Lois and the boys were here that whole time you were in Japan, having to act like you were okay.”

Clark sighed. “Yeah.”

“Well, if anything like that happens again, they won't be alone,” Nick decided.

Clark stilled, utterly touched. He swallowed thickly. “Thank you.”

“You’re Martha Kent’s son, and you’ve saved the world more than once, to boot!” Will declared, certain that, powers or not, Clark was still much like him at heart: just a small town family man. “Anything we can do to help you, consider it done.”

Clark put his face in his hands, needing a moment to collect himself, before looking back up.

“Just, uh, can we tell our wives? Only them?” Nick asked hesitantly. “You know how they are, and, uh, keeping this from—”

Clark laughed as he quickly wiped his damp eyes with his hand. “Yeah. If our positions were reversed, there's no way I'd be able to keep a secret like this from Lois. And, uh, once you tell them, you all should come over for dinner or something. I know there will be questions and . . . well, I know Lois will want to formally welcome you four into the fold.”

Thrilled beyond words, even though they were still in the process of comprehending all the implications of the revelation, Nick and Will nodded excitedly.

“Okay,” Nick said, utterly jittery now. “Man, this is beyond anything. . . .” He trailed off, focusing back on Clark. “Gosh, how weird this must be for you!”

Clark chuckled. “Yeah, it’s pretty weird.”

“So it's really just been your parents, Lois, and your kids in the know?” Will asked, amazed.

“And Sam, Lois’ dad,” Clark added with a nod.

“Oh man, that must have been rough,” Nick said with a grimace.

Clark winced as well, though for a slightly different reason. “Yeah, that had been a rough week, I'll admit, but Sam actually took it pretty well. I can't say he took it as well as you two,” he said with a smile. “But it definitely could have been worse.”

They fell into a comfortable silence and looked at each other.

“Well, I should head back. Jordan is sleeping, but I know Lois is anxious to hear how things went here,” Clark said, slowly standing up.

Will and Nick both stood up as well and walked him to the porch.

“Okay,” Will said, knowing he needed to get home himself and talk with his wife, Tami.

He was both excited and nervous for that conversation. She had always said Clark was special – now Will would reveal how much.

“Where's your truck?” Nick asked suddenly.

“Oh. Well, since I knew I'd be telling you, I didn't see a point in driving,” Clark said with a sheepish shrug.

Will blinked and Nick grinned, suspecting what was coming.

“Anyway, let me know when you and your wives want to come over for dinner,” Clark said, holding out his hand.

“We will,” Will assured, before shaking Clark's hand. Nick followed soon after.

“Good night,” Clark said, stepping back with a dorky wave and smile.

He then shot up into the night sky with a whoosh and a blur.

“Should we tell our wives?” Nick asked after a long moment, still looking up at the sky.

“That Superman’s a dork?” Will asked with an amazed chuckle as he headed back inside to grab his car keys. “No, they’ll figure that out themselves.”

O o O o O

To be continued in ‘Steel’

Comments

Chapter 2: Hearing

The Harvest Festival was in full swing when they arrived.

“Hey, Dad, Paul said he’d be over by the corn stand,” Jordan said.

“Yeah, Tag said they do some kind of popcorn contest?” Jon said, though a bit confused at the end.

“Okay, go on, you two. Have fun,” Clark said, waving them on.

Lois and Clark watched them hurry off.

“I still can’t believe Eliza broke up with him over the phone,” Clark muttered.

Lois sighed. “Yeah, well, I think that reflects more on her character than anything else. Of course, long distance relationships rarely work out. And while I'll likely never tell Jon this, I think it was best that it ended sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah,” Clark agreed. “I'm just glad he's bounced back as well as he has.”

“Well, I think a lot of that is due to having a super talk with his dad,” Lois said approvingly before chuckling. “And to think, you even slid ‘the Talk’ in there too! – tame as it was.”

“I wasn't going to miss the opportunity. Besides, it appeared to help,” he said with a self conscious shrug.

“Yeah, learning their dad had been . . . very patient but had turned out fine is certainly helpful,” she said with a laugh, hugging his side as they walked. “But I think what helped Jon the most was learning you've experienced a break up too, and have struggled with self-identity – although the latter is more relevant to Jordan.”

Clark nodded before they approached his favorite food stand. He looked at Lois, as if asking permission.

She sighed dramatically. “Go ahead.”

“I'm getting extra for you know who,” Clark said quietly.

She raised an amused eyebrow. “Just make sure I'm there when he tries it for the first time.”

“Okay,” he said, beaming as he bought twenty sticks of chocolate bacon.

Carrying them in a special bag, Clark and Lois continued down the street, enjoying the Harvest Festival as hours went by.

“Oh, my dad called. The RV will arrive later this week,” Lois said. “He also told me Irons has asked to talk to me again and my dad finally thinks it's a good idea.”

“What do you think?” Clark asked, a little concerned.

“I think it's a good idea. I just don't know if I should wait until after I investigate the RV or just go in now. There are a few things we still don't know about him. Like, how long was he married to that other Lois? Did they have kids? Where did they live? Did they know Superman at all? What did they do for a living before it all went to crap?” Lois asked. “I mean, I know my dad has prodded a little, but he's been wary about pushing too hard. It's clear the guy is close to just snapping completely, or at least that's what my dad has told me, and considering everything, he's probably right. How could he not be?”

Clark hummed thoughtfully, before they saw Jordan happily approaching them with Jon, Tag, and someone else.

“Hey, are you all enjoying yourselves?” Clark asked cheerfully.

“Yeah, we just wanted to let you know the Darrens are here now,” Jordan said. “So–Oh, sorry, this is Paul Lincoln. Paul, these are my parents.”

“And this is Tag Harris,” Jon quickly interjected.

Paul smiled and shook Clark’s hand before doing the same with Lois. Tag followed suit.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Kent,” they said politely.

Clark instantly recognized Paul as Luke Lincoln’s son. He had dirty blond hair and tanned skin, as well as a hefty frame that made him appear years older than he actually was. All he needed to easily pass as an adult was facial hair.

“Hi, Paul, how is your dad doing? Is your mom still making blankets?” Clark asked.

Paul’s eyes lit up. “He’s doing great, and my mom got a big order recently from a fundraiser who helps raise money for children's hospitals,” he said.

“That’s great!” Clark said. “I’m glad things are going well. And Tag, glad to finally meet you. Your parents must be very proud of you.”

Paul and Tag both smiled at Clark’s words.

“So I take it you and Jordan are going to help the Darrens?” Lois asked, looking at Paul.

Paul and Jordan nodded.

“Okay, we’ll be heading home around 10, so be sure to find us by then,” Clark said.

“Okay, Dad,” Jordan said, before they hurried off again.

Clark smiled, glad to see they were having fun and had friends.

“I’ll never get tired of seeing it,” Lois said after a moment.

“What?” Clark asked.

“Proof that moving here was the right decision,” she said, squeezing his hand.

Clark grinned before leading the way to more food stands.

O o O o O

“I am not too sure about this, Brother,” Tal said, holding up the long strip of chocolate covered bacon above the kitchen table they were seated around.

“It's the greatest thing ever, Tal. It's so good!” Clark assured, even as Tal glanced at Lois who was failing to completely hide her revulsion of the strange food.

“I will try it, then,” Tal said, before giving the bacon a subtle sniff. His eyebrow went up and he promptly took a bite.

“So . . . ?” Clark asked expectantly.

Tal's eyes widened as he slowly chewed. Savored, really. He finally swallowed.

“Brother, Smallville is a gem,” Tal stated, before taking another bite and looking quite content.

Clark beamed, looking triumphant, as Lois shook her head.

Before too long, Tal finished his new favorite treat and he eased back in his chair.

“The next time there is a Harvest Fest, be sure to let me know, Brother. Granted, I imagine you won't need to since I hope to be getting involved with Smallville myself soon enough,” Tal said.

“Oh? Are you moving forward with that proposal then?” Clark asked.

“Yes, and I suspect I'll be the new owner of the mines by the end of next month, if not sooner,” Tal said, pleased.

“Why are you so interested in the mines?” Lois asked curiously.

“Two reasons. Investment opportunity and familial protection,” he said.

Clark blinked and Lois looked confused.

“Do you know anything about an orange crystal that has some structural similarities to kryptonite?” Tal asked.

“What? No!? What are you talking about?” Clark asked, baffled.

“Smallville has a large collection of what I call x-kryptonite. From what I’ve been able to determine, it’s a naturally occurring compound that accumulated in the mines. It’s rather volatile, susceptible to exploding if exposed to heat and is a potent energy source. Due to its similarity to kryptonite, I feel it prudent to ensure no one else gets their hands on it,” he said. “Admittedly, I also believe that if humans are exposed to it in certain ways it can impart kryptonian abilities to them, at least temporarily.”

Clark’s eyes widened, realizing something else. “Was that how you had planned to. . . .”

Tal looked down guiltily. “Yes, Brother. But as that is not going to happen now, we must ensure this material doesn’t ever fall into the wrong hands.”

Clark nodded. “I completely agree.”

“I think keeping this out of even DoD knowledge would be wise,” Lois stated suddenly. “I can easily imagine what they’d do if they learned such a thing existed.”

Clark nodded grimly. “Tell us what we can do to help, Tal.”

Tal smiled, though his expression was serious. “Thank you, Brother. I will.”

O o O o O

[Thursday Afternoon]

William Darren smiled as Jordan followed him into the stalls. He had been giving him riding and horse handling lessons for about a month now.

Jordan was a good kid. Not that he expected anything less. He was Clark's son after all, but it was always nice to see an example of hope for the next generation.

“You're doing a good job, Jordan. Blackberry likes you more than me now,” Will said as they guided the Clydesdale horse into the grooming stall and secured him.

Jordan smiled shyly as he picked up the curry brush and got to work. Methodically, he brushed Blackberry's coat, knowing where to go slow and where to apply more rigorous pressure.

“Will, could you give me a hand for a moment?” his brother, Nick, or (as most called him now) Doc, asked.

Will looked at Jordan. “I'll be right back.”

Jordan smiled and nodded his understanding before Will went to the neighboring stall.

Blackberry's sister, Acorn, had somehow cut herself the other day and they needed to apply the next round of antibiotic cream. She was usually pretty good, but she always did better when Will rubbed her nose while Nick worked his magic.

Will watched as his brother reached for the tube of cream when he heard Jordan gasp loudly. The brush clattered to the floor.

“Jordan?” he asked in concern as Blackberry gave a concerned neigh and scuffed his hooves.

Will stepped away from Acorn and looked around the divider into the stall, finding Jordan pressed back against the side wall with his hands holding his head in pain.

“D-dad,” Jordan gasped out.

“Jordan, what's wrong?!” Will shouted, rushing around and immediately pulling him out of the stall to hopefully prevent Blackberry from getting spooked.

“Dad!” Jordan called out, a little more clearly but in pain before he just went limp.

“Nick!” Will shouted, horrified by what he was seeing as he helped Jordan to the floor.

The boy was seizing, but that wasn't the scariest part. There were silent red flashes going off in his head, somehow visibly shining out of his ears and through his skull!

Similar to the bright glow at Superman's ears when he had been attacked by Thaddeus Killgrave with a sound weapon.

Nick began to move to help, but then there was a deafening whoosh, a blur of red and blue, and suddenly Superman just materialized!

The Man of Steel, in Smallville, on his farm!

Superman knelt down, staring at Jordan for a split second before scooping him up and holding him close, even as the flashes continued.

“Superman?! Wha–” Will started, but Superman cut him off as he stood up, his cape fanning out behind him.

“Please tell only Ms. Lane I took him.”

And then he disappeared with Jordan in a blur.

O o O o O

Lois smiled as she heard Jon hurry up the stairs to his room, having just returned from Tag's house where they had worked on some homework together. It was nice to see friendships taking hold, especially when said friendships were with kids she actually liked.

Tag Harris was a pleasant kid, and though his family had hit some hard times (like many in Smallville) they were good people doing the best they could. Hopefully with Tal, as Morgan Edge, taking a renewed interest in Smallville, financial situations for many would improve soon. She would hope anyway.

She looked outside, knowing Clark would make a few rounds as Superman before he'd pick Jordan up from his weekly lesson at the Darren Farm, though it had morphed into something more than just horse riding.

Suddenly, the phone rang. Interestingly, it was the groundline instead of her cell.

“Hello?” she answered, half expecting it to be Lana or a shopkeeper from in town wanting to ask Clark something.

‘Lois, this is Will,’ Jordan’s horse riding instructor greeted stiffly. ‘Uh, I don't know how to tell you this, but Jordan just had a seizure and Superman suddenly appeared and took him,’ Will told her.

Lois' heart froze. “Wha– Jordan had a seizure?!”

‘We were in the stalls, tending to the horses, and Jordan gasped. I looked in the stall and he was holding his head. I helped him out as he called out to Clark and then he collapsed with light flashing from his head. A second later, Superman appeared like I said and took him!’ Will explained, his voice a forced calm, but it was a close thing.

“ ‘With light flashing’? You saw light?” she asked, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

‘Yes. Flashes of light shined out from inside his head, like how when Superman had been hit by that sound weapon,’ Will quickly said, desperate for her to understand. ‘He was having some kind of seizure!’

“Okay. Okay. And Superman took him?” Lois asked, her voice strained, but she knew she had to stay calm to be able to process what she was hearing.

Was a power manifesting? If so, which one? Clark had told her that when some had first surfaced for him they had been very jarring, even painful. Was that what was happening here to Jordan?

‘Yes. Superman came and told us to call you. Only you, before he took him,’ Will said, breathing heavily but doing a remarkable job of keeping his voice intelligible and level.

“Okay. Thank you. Thank you for calling me,” Lois said.

‘No problem.’

Lois heard Will swallow and silence rose.

‘Has this happened before?’ Will asked after a moment.

“No,” she said honestly, wondering what Clark was doing with Jordan.

Was Jordan okay? Did he really have a seizure? She was certain they were at the Fortress. Should she call Tal?

‘Do you know where he took Jordan?’ Will tentatively asked.

“Yes,” she admitted.

‘Is there anything we can do?’ Will asked.

“No, just . . . when everything has settled, we'll explain everything.” She took a deep breath, wondering how they should handle what's happened before immediately shifting to damage control. “Who else was there when this happened?”

‘Just me and my brother, Nick,’ he assured. ‘And we won't say anything. We'll wait. I . . . imagine this is . . . complicated?’

Lois exhaled, relieved Smallville was such a tight-knit community. If this had happened in Metropolis, she suspected she would have been learning about it from the news instead of through a private phone call.

“Thank you, Will. We'll be in touch,” she said, wordlessly answering Will's tentative question with an affirmative tone as Jon entered the kitchen.

“Mom?” Jon asked, concerned as Lois hung up.

Lois swallowed. “Jon, come sit down.”

O o O o O

Tal took a moment to review his business schedule. Things were certainly busier since his priorities had changed, as surprising as that was, but things were good. Better than they had ever been.

“Tal! Help!”

His brother’s voice rang so loud and clear that, before he could even think, he immediately shot out of his villa in Italy.

“What is it, Brother?” he asked, stopping at the entrance of Kal-El's fortress, finding his brother waiting for him.

“It's Jordan, his hearing kicked in! Can you bring Mother's crystal? I want her opinion. He had a seizure,” Kal said quickly. Frantically.

He was in his Superman uniform but looked more like Clark than the Man of Steel in that moment.

“Of course.” Tal zipped to his sanctum and retrieved Mother's crystal and quickly returned.

Swiftly, but quietly, he entered the Fortress, coming to Kal and Jordan.

Jordan was laid out on the frigid ground, trembling. Jor-El wasn't anywhere in sight.

“I know it hurts,” Kal said softly, holding Jordan’s hand, “But you must try to focus on one sound.”

Kal looked up at him, and Tal was at a loss of what to say, so instead he went to the podium and inserted their mother's crystal.

She materialized before him and immediately took in her new surroundings and the situation.

“When did this start?” she asked, approaching.

Jordan whimpered.

“Four, five minutes ago,” Kal-El answered, his voice low. “Father said his auditory perception is causing an allodynic response.”

She nodded, agreeing with Jor-El's assessment.

“Can I do something to help with the pain as he learns control? I don't want him to go through what I had,” Kal said.

Tal frowned as he looked at Jordan who was in obvious extreme pain. When Tal's hearing had manifested, he hadn't experienced anything like this. Of course, most of his abilities had surfaced before he had even landed on Earth, while on his ship. He had been in a controlled environment while exposed to the sun and had learned a degree of control long before he had even entered Earth’s atmosphere. His father had wanted him to have every advantage possible.

For once, his father's excessive preparations had spared him from pain.

“Other than limiting auditory stimulation, you could provide distractive stimuli, such as tactile or visual,” she proposed. “Unfortunately, that's all that can be done outside of himself. He will have to learn control, just as I understand you did.”

“What about the imbalance? Is that making it worse?” Kal asked anxiously.

“In this case, the imbalance is beneficial, limiting the allodynic response because the signal pathways are limited in strength,” Lara explained. “This is reducing the imbalance, however.”

“I have something that will help. I'll be right back,” Tal said, before shooting to his home in Australia. He picked up a jacket and noise canceling headphones before returning to Kal and his son.

“Here,” he said, handing them to Kal who immediately put the headphones on Jordan.

“Thank you, Tal,” Kal said as Jordan sagged in vivid relief.

Jordan smiled up at Tal in gratitude and Tal's heart swelled.

O o O o O

Comments

4th in ‘Come Home' series. Rewrite of 1x05-07. More dominos. Jordan and Jon learn how alike and how different they are from their father and each other.

Ch 1: Absorbing
Ch 2: Hearing
Ch 3: Sharing

Comments

Come Home
Embrace
Brother

Sound

Summary: 4th in ‘Come Home' series. Rewrite of 1x05-07. More dominos. Jordan and Jon learn how alike and how different they are from their father and each other.
____________________________

Chapter 1: Absorbing

Jordan and Jonathan stood somewhat impatiently between their parents as Lara appeared before them.

Lara had just finished analyzing the scans of Jordan and Jonathan, both the set done by Jor-El and the more thorough and comprehensive scans she just took.

“Have there been any changes since the scan father did?” Clark asked.

“Yes, there have. The absorption rate of Jonathan's cells has increased by 12%, and that rate has spread evenly across his whole body,” she answered.

“What does this mean? Will he develop powers?” Lois asked.

“At this rate, no. It is not high enough to sustain abilities. Currently, he only has access to 2 millionth of a percent of the power Kal has. However, when compared to an average human, he is more coordinated and far more durable. And if he applied the energy he has to an action, such as lifting something, he would be at least ten times stronger than an average man,” Lara explained.

Jon blinked. “So . . . my being part-kryptonian is why I'm good at football?”

“Possibly, though we don't know what your levels had been before,” Lara said. “Granted, if they had been as high as you are currently, you shouldn't have suffered a concussion in the accident.”

“So Jon is absorbing more solar energy than before? What about Jordan?” Clark asked.

Jon and Jordan grinned excitedly at each other.

“Yes. As for Jordan, his absorption rate is far higher, but it is not consistent. In certain areas of his body, it has increased by 120%, while in others it’s as low as 4%.”

“Wha–what does that mean?” Jon asked, suddenly concerned as Jordan glanced uncertainly at Lois.

“Is that bad?” Jordan asked.

“It's not ideal. The imbalance can contribute to many issues with biological functions,” Lara answered. “Everything from physical responses to mental wellbeing.”

Clark stiffened. “Would this have been an issue before, or can it only be an issue now because of the scale?”

“Any imbalance, even a fraction of what it is now, could cause difficulties,” she said, not understanding the implications of what it all meant as she raised her hand and quickly reevaluated Jordan’s scans. “And yes, there was a minor imbalance in the scan a few months ago.”

“You mean . . . this was why I was put on pills?!” Jordan gasped, growing frantic. “This is what’s really wrong with me?!”

Clark tentatively placed his hand on his shoulder. “We'll figure this out, Jordan,” he said, hoping that was the right thing to say.

Lara frowned at the exchange. “I don’t understand.”

“Last year, Jordan was diagnosed with social anxiety disorder,” Lois answered softly.

Lara looked at Jordan, who was now covering his face with his hands. “If I may inquire, what led up to that?” she asked.

“A lot,” Jordan said, frustrated, relieved, angry, and confused as he lowered his hands. “For as long as I can remember I've had night terrors, and I’ve always had trouble with . . . I get–” He took a deep breath and Clark gently tightened his grip on his shoulder in encouragement. “–overwhelmed easily. I can't really explain it; it doesn't even make sense to me.”

“I see,” Lara said. “This imbalance likely contributes to much of that.”

“Can anything be done to correct the imbalance?” Clark asked.

“There may be. I will run some tests,” she said. “It will take some time, but I believe we will be able to at least reduce the imbalance, which will improve Jordan’s overall health.”

“Okay,” Clark said, before moving directly in front of Jordan and gripping both of his shoulders with his hands as Lois came beside him. “We’ll figure this out together, and Jordan?”

Jordan looked up at him, tears in his eyes.

“I'm so sorry we didn't learn this sooner,” Clark said regretfully before pulling Jordan into a hug.

“But now that we have–” Lois interjected, knowing Clark was blaming himself, “–we can properly address it. This is nobody's fault, but like your father said, we'll get through it together. No one ever dreams about life's problems, but every life has them — even the extraordinary ones.”

Lois joined in on the hug, and Jon soon followed.

O o O o O

John Irons looked at the screen, not sure what to think anymore.

Sam leaned against the side wall of John's cell.

He had just shown him several videos, including the recent interview between Lois, Superman, and Superman's half brother, as well as several other videos taken from different vantage points of a man attacking Superman in a park before Tal-Rho violently landed and stopped the man – stopped but didn't kill.

“This doesn't prove anything,” John stated.

“Our Superman is different from the one in your world,” Sam repeated.

“They're lying! They're biding their time, giving the world a false sense of security,” John argued, but inside he wondered. . . .

“Do you truly believe that? They laid out everything in that interview. Revealed information even you hadn't known, disclosing where all the Kryptonians had come from and how your world had been overwhelmed. What would they gain by doing that?” Sam asked.

John looked away.

Sam was wrong. Superman was a threat! Him and his brother. They had to be!

But why would they admit to there being a device? Why would they tell the world about their family? Why would they expose so much about themselves and express so much . . . emotion?

They really did appear to care for each other, which was more than the Kryptonians had expressed to one another in his world where they had always been so . . . brutally mechanical. Even when some of their number were killed right in front of them, they didn't appear to be all that affected. They certainly hadn't shown the fury and concern Tal-Rho had displayed for his brother when he stopped Killgrave.

And when they had spoken kryptonian during the interview. . . . There was no way that had been done for show when they likely believed no one on earth would be able to understand them. . . .


“Oh, nothing really. I just realized I might be grateful for being stabbed,” Superman answered Lois.

Kal-El’s brother laughed before grabbing his shoulder and giving him a hard shake.

:You better never get stabbed again because I might just kill you after I save you again!:

Kal-El grinned in response before pulling Tal into a half hug. “I love you too, Brother.”


Could this Superman truly be different?

Circumstances were different here, but were they different enough?

What if Sam was wrong? What if Sam was right?

“I want to speak with Lois,” John finally said.

Sam stared at him for a long moment. “I'll see what I can do.”

O o O o O

“Guys, we got your favorite pizza,” Clark said cheerfully the moment they entered through the back door after school.

“I’m not hungry,” Jon said, before hurrying up the stairs to his room.

Clark blinked and looked to Jordan in confusion.

“Eliza dumped him this morning,” Jordan said. “Over the phone.”

“She what?!” Clark gasped, offended for Jon.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Lois said, before Clark stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“I think . . . it might be best if I talk to him first,” Clark gently countered.

Lois looked at him, taking in his expression. “Okay.”

Clark gave her a soft but grim smile before following after Jon. A moment later, he gently knocked on his door.

“Jon?” he asked.

“Jordan just had to go and announce it to the world, huh?” Jon huffed.

Clark cracked open the door. “Even if he hadn’t said anything, it’s clear something has upset you.”

Jon rubbed his face, trying to hold it together. He did so by getting angry. “I can’t believe she just dumped me over the phone!”

“I know, bud. I’m sorry,” Clark said, stepping further into the room and sitting beside him on the bed.

“We’d been together for over a year,” Jon muttered before clenching his jaw.

Clark didn’t say anything to that, but instead put his hand on Jon’s shoulder.

Jon heaved a heavy sigh.

“Maybe I should just be happy she didn’t do it over a text,” Jon said sarcastically.

“I doubt it would have been any easier face to face,” Clark said. “All break ups are rough, one way or another.”

“Have you?” Jon asked.

“What? Been through a break up?” Clark asked.

Jon nodded with a brief, hesitant glance up.

“Yes. I pretty much crawled into an REA Speedwagon rabbit hole for over a week,” Clark said.

Despite himself, Jon chuckled, baffled by the completely unfamiliar reference. “What? ‘Speedwagon’? ‘Rabbit hole’?”

Clark sighed in defeat. “They’re an old rock band.”

“Rabbit Hole?” Jon asked, still confused.

Clark laughed. “No, REA Speedwagon.”

Jon shook his head, now more amused than anything.

“I can dig out my cassettes if you want to listen to them,” Clark offered. “I think I still have a cassette player.”

“No, no, that’s fine, Dad,” Jon said quickly, now smiling.

“Okay,” Clark said, happy to see Jon's mood improve. “Well, I know it’ll take a bit of time to process things, but trust me, things will get better. It sucks right now, of course, but you won't feel like this forever.”

“Because I'll eventually get over it like you did?” Jon asked incredulously, his emotions yo-yo'ing back down before he looked thoughtful. “Who was she?”

“My first girlfriend? Rachel Harris. Very kind, fun, generous. And no, not related to your friend, Tag. Anyway, we had been together for a few months. Looking back, I can see she actually let me down as best she could, and that she did what she knew was best for both of us,” Clark said.

Jon frowned. “Huh. I wonder what she would think now, if she knew she had broken up with Superman.”

“I wasn't Superman then,” Clark pointed out.

“No, but still . . . you've always been–” Jon cut himself off, suddenly nervous.

Clark waited for him to complete the sentence, but when he didn't, Clark slowly nodded in understanding.

“You're right, I've always been different,” Clark finished for him, his eyes suddenly unfocused as he came to a realization himself. “And while I hadn't known it at the time, I've always been Kryptonian.”

Jon nodded.

“It's not something I think about much, but I suppose it's important to acknowledge,” Clark admitted.

Jon tilted his head. “Why?”

“Why it's important to acknowledge or why I don't think about it much?” Clark asked.

“Both, I suppose.”

Clark took a deep breath. “I always knew I was different. My first memory is coming to Earth and feeling the sun on my face for the first time, and hearing the voices of my parents, the Kents.”

Jon's eyes widened.

“But it wasn't until I met Jor-El that I learned why I had been sent here. Before, I didn't know if I had been sent away because I was unwanted or what. And when more and more of my abilities began to surface, I had even feared I’d been sent here as some sort of start of an invasion. There were many times I wished I had been like everyone else: normal, with no abilities,” Clark said. “But your grandparents were steadfast. They always told me I was sent here for a reason and that I was meant to use my abilities to do great things. Of course, there was a question of timing, of when I should do those things, but they had always been supportive and assured me not to be afraid of my powers.”

“Wow,” Jon said, before looking down at his hands as Clark continued.

“But all of that uncertainty was sort of what made my first break up so rough for me, I think. At the time, I was afraid there was something wrong with me. That somehow Rachel had figured out I was . . . alien, and that that was why she had broken up with me. Of course, that wasn't the reason at all, but at the time I hadn't been able to really think beyond myself and consider things from her point of view.”

“So what was the reason? Did you ever learn it?” Jon asked, leaning forward.

“She realized that she needed to figure out who she was before she could even think about having a serious relationship with anyone. And, I think subconsciously at least, she knew I needed to do the same,” Clark explained.

“Oh,” Jon said, processing. “That makes sense at least. It's important to know yourself, even if it's not easy.”

“Yeah,” Clark agreed, glad Jon had followed his answer.

“So. . . .” Jon started before trailing off.

“What?”

“Uh. I know you dated mom sometime after that, obviously, but was there anyone else?” Jon asked, trying not to sound too curious.

“I dated a few other times after Rachel, but no one as seriously until your mother,” Clark said easily.

“Really?!” Jon asked, surprised.

“Really. And, since this is as good a lead-in as any, I’m going to take this opportunity to talk to you about something else,” Clark said.

Jon immediately blushed as his eyes widened, correctly concluding the subject. “No! Dad, it's fine! We don't–”

“Yes, we do, especially since your brother is listening in from the hall,” Clark said.

Jordan's loud gasp immediately followed.

“Jordan!?” Jon asked.

Jordan shyly stuck his head in the room. “Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt.”

“How long have you been there?” Jon asked, exasperated.

“Since ‘speedwagon’,” Jordan said sheepishly.

“Come on in, Jordan. And don't worry, I don't think it'll be as bad as either of you are thinking,” Clark said.

Jon and Jordan looked at each other doubtfully as Jordan sat down opposite them.

“Now, you both are 15, and, as I'm sure you already know, wanting to become intimate with someone is a natural feeling to have as you get older,” Clark said, amazing both Jon and Jordan by his matter-of-fact tone, though they still wanted the floor to swallow them. “However, I want to tell you something I've never fully verbalized to anyone before.”

Jon bit his lip, curious but embarrassed, while Jordan was failing to hide his interest despite the topic.

“I waited until after your mother and I were married, and it’s one of the best things I've ever done for myself,” Clark stated.

Jon and Jordan's jaws dropped.

“You . . . you, uh . . .” Jordan was flabbergasted and Jon wasn't much better.

“What?! Why?” Jon exclaimed.

“As you know, my parents were pretty conservative, especially in that regard, and instructed me accordingly, which, after everything I've seen and experienced, I must admit I fully agree with now. Intimacy is an adult decision, so comes with adult feelings and adult consequences – and those consequences can include serious regret and permanent, life-altering events that are less than positive, especially if not done under certain conditions,” Clark explained.

Jon swallowed and Jordan looked stunned.

“Look, I just want you both to be responsible and to be able to enter that stage in life, whenever that is, without any regret,” Clark said. “So just consider and remember what I’ve said.”

“So it wasn't because . . . you're different?” Jon hesitantly asked.

“That did play a role, but probably not as much as you might expect. I–” Clark blushed and cleared his throat before pressing on. “I have the same impulses as any other guy, and they're likely more intense because of . . . my heightened senses, so. . . .” He pursed his lips. “Anyway, being . . . what I am was less than half the reason why I waited. The other reasons, on their own, had already been enough to convince me to wait until after I was fully committed to someone and they to me.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Jordan said slowly.

Clark took a slow, deep breath and looked at them both. “Unfortunately, there is something else. Fair or not, our family secret will affect your future relationships – friendships and otherwise. I wish there was something I could say that would make it easier, but it’s a dangerous, heavy secret that can't be shared without careful consideration and involvement from all of us.”

Jon and Jordan glanced at each other, both processing what that might mean for their future.

“So, uh, how long was it before you told Mom?” Jordan asked.

“We’d been dating for a few months when I told her, but I had known her for over a year. I had been very sure,” he said.

“Wow,” Jon said. “How did she take it?”

“Was she angry?” Jordan asked.

“Well, she actually took it all in stride pretty well, though she was certainly flabbergasted,” Clark admitted. “Before asking a million questions.”

Jon and Jordan laughed.

“I'll bet!” Jon said.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Jordan asked.

“Yeah! Can you?” Jon pleaded.

Clark laughed. “Okay,” he agreed, happy to share one of the most memorable days of his life while also knowing it would provide Jon with another distraction from the breakup with Eliza.

So he told them about bringing Lois home to meet their grandmother, Martha, before taking her outside to the cornfield where he had landed. He revealed how he had told her and how he had hovered before regaling them with her reaction.

“Wow, Mom is epic,” Jon said as they laughed.

“What's going on?” Lois asked, knocking lightly on the door and peeking in.

“Just telling them how I told you my secret,” Clark said. “And how you handled learning it.”

“You told them I called you a dork, right?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said, grinning, before looking at the twins. “Well, pizza is downstairs if you want any. And if either of you want to talk more or anything, let me know.”

“Okay. Thanks, Dad,” Jon said, far lighter than he had been, and pleasantly surprised a certain conversation had been easier than he had ever expected.

O o O o O


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