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Chapter 1
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Chapter 1

It seems like it's been a *really* long time since I've posted, but...here goes nothing.

As I said in my author's note, there are dark themes here, but the overall feeling I'm going for is HOPE, even if it takes a little while to get there.

This is part 1 of a planned trilogy and is almost complete. I'll probably post once or twice weekly until I'm finished with the writing for part 1, then I'll post more frequently.

Thanks in advance for reading! 🥰
-Bek

Gahhh Clark... gets what he deserves on this one. 😉 🤣

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.”

Disaster

LOL!!! 😂

Eeep!!! This is such a fascinating idea!! (Especially the idea about the transplant when they're younger and that giving Lex powers!!!!) Thanks for sharing!!

Sara

Gahhhhh!! Poor young-adult Clark!!! Lovely little ficlet with the right amount of feels! 💜

Sara

Ahhh sweet Krypto! I also loved this point of view! Thanks for walking the dog! 😁😍

Ahhh, another installment and every single one just breaks my heart. 😭

I wonder how this will all resolve. I want to be hopeful... 😭💕💔💔💔

Ahhh wow that was intense! And I kinda like that it wasn’t a super huge event that made him reveal. Gahhh!

Sara

(Some of these ended up being a little late for the 2021 Challenge season)

7) Just Another Day at the Park

8) Movie Night

9) Disaster

Glad that Jor is learning English. It'll make things easier for him.

I hope Lois and Clark can have some time alone soon.

Andreia

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.

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

Oh my this is ahilarious twist. So we have Clark, Lois, Jimmy, Lex and some scientists, stuck in the ice age world. Hrm, how long will it take for the rest of the crew to find out Clark=Superman to get the surviving on track? I'm sure Clark will rather reveal himself than letting anyone die so that's only a matter of time. And how frustrating it will be for dear Lex that he has to rely on Superman for his an dhis crew's survival, oh Tempus would love the irony, wouldn't he?

And then, that OTHER twist. Ahh! So we are in the world of cave!Lois and Kal. I assume "the beast" is the reindeer from earlier. Now you absolutetely MUST write the sequel where the two LnC sets meet, since I'm sure Kal will discover something else than fruit out there... Pretty please?

Recommendations:
Faustian Bargain by Sue S.

Quotes:
LOIS: What if it's Bad Brain? Can I go?
CLARK: No.
LOIS: C'mon, Clark, why do we go through this? We both know I'm gonna go.
CLARK: Then why'd you ask?!
LOIS: To be nice.
LOIS: Bad Brain Johnson could have the Kryptonite pointed at your thick skull right now!

Details:
Bad Brain Johnson was tracked down and put away by Lois and Clark and Superman. He now has a vendetta against them.
Tim and Amber Lake have a collection of one of a kind artifacts, including the Tim Burton Batmobile and the arms of the Venus of Milo (from Foundling).
Tim and Amber Lake are on the board of trustees for STARLabs
Tim and Amber fry Bad Brain Johnson with his Electro Whammy.
Tim and Amber try to put Superman in their private exhibition, using Lois to keep him here.
Tim and Amber Lake make look like they killed Lois.
The cages Tim and Amber built for Lois and Superman don’t have any facilities, no food or water. This doesn’t seem to be a very sustainable setup.
Clark takes Lois to the Farm to lay low for a couple of days. Lois returns to Metropolis the next morning.
Perry has Lois and Clark wear bulletproof vests.
Perry wears colorful ties that where gifts from Alice since their marriage is on the rocks.
Clark leads Lois on the small of her back. Or pushes here on.
First appearance by Bernard Klein
STAR Labs keeps Kryptonite for Superman. Dr. Klein works on a radiation vaccine for Superman.
Lois and Clark are still not discussing marriage. Lois doesn’t have much luck with that resolution.
Clark and Lois have various dreams about a Superhero and his woman. (Zorro/Bewitched where Clark fears Lois wants to be a superhero. James Bond and Ms. Goodbottom where Lois fears she’s just Superman’s hood ornament, Clark/Superman is arrested for Spousal Neglect)
Minute 21:30: Lois learns where Clark keeps his capes.
Clark explains that his aura extends a few millimeters from his skin and protects stuff / makes it invulnerable.
Minute 24:44: CD-ROM with The Wit & Wisdom of Superman, an unauthorized collection
Clark can fly around the world in minutes.
Clark learns to vibrate to pass through a light barrier. It’s very draining.
Lois pours leftover champagne into her desk plant.

Michael

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.

Here they are! (A bit late because of me—eep.) The official award banners for the winners. Thank you again, Carrie Rene for making them for us!!










































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(KSaraSara, Darth Michael, lovetvfan, and JadedEvie)

I hope you don't wait another 16 years to write the epilogue! I just found this site a couple days ago and this is the only one I've read - I couldn't put it down! I think I may have spoiled myself and now worry the others won't live up. Hoping to tie up the loose ends soon!

Edited to add after having time to reflect more: I watched this when I was younger at the time it aired and had a major crush on CK (and let's be honest, still do). Reading the very steamy nfic chapters made this middle-aged lady giggle and blush like a schoolgirl feeling like I'd been caught doing something scandalous - but I SO appreciate you for giving me more of a visual of what was only innuendo back in the day

Thank you both so much for your feedback, Michael and Blueowl.

Thanks! I'm glad this worked for you, I loved writing this chapter, they're so in sync as a couple. It's a fun ride from here!

The Perry's first story gave me an idea, which like all of them I'll never write. A just starting out Perry working with a just starting out Tony Vincenzo.