table of contents ~^~^~^~^~^~^~
There he was… standing just a few feet away. His black hair danced as the wind blew around him. His large, dark eyes so much like his mother. He was bright, full of energy, wanting nothing more than to learn everything he could about the world and about the father he'd only just met.
<<Find out what?>> Clark demanded of himself.
You've spent the last decade in a damn hole in the wall. What could you possibly have to tell him? I know… you can tell him how you writhed in pain when you first entered that cell. You can tell him how you realized there must have been kryptonite there; how it made your eyes burn and your stomach churn. You can tell him how the guards laughed at you, thinking you were sick with fear from realizing what kind of trouble you were in.
Then you could tell him how you crawled across the room to get away from the effects of that rock. Luckily it had been a small piece or you wouldn't be telling anyone anything. You'd be dead!
<<I am dead! Clark Kent is dead!>>
Is he? It sure felt like he was alive last night… when Lois touched you, when she held you. And how about when you saw Clark? You can't forget how you felt when he smiled at you. It felt wonderful. Then when you touched his small face…
<<He doesn't need this. He's just a boy. No boy deserves a father with so much going on inside. You're hateful and bitter and so pathetic. How could you possibly interact with him?>>
What would you talk about with him? How degrading it had been to go to the restroom in a bucket? How nasty the slop tasted that was the only food you had in almost ten years? How you'd almost cry when you'd drink all of your allotment of water for the day and you wouldn't know how long it would be before the guards refilled it? Or should you tell him about sleeping on a stone floor? How much your back hurts, even now? Even with super powers?
And what about those dang powers? What the hell are you supposed to do with those now?
<<What if Clark inherits them?>>
You have to stay to show him how to use them! He needs you!
<<No one needs me!>>
Yes they do, Clark... and no matter how hard you try to pretend differently, that's who you are! They need you. Did you see how much longing was in Lois' dark eyes? She wanted nothing more than to hold you. And little Clark… he wanted so desperately to touch your hand last night when you waited with them for the elevator. They do need you. The question is… do you need them?
<<There is no question of need here! Do you have the right to *need* them?!>>
Clark jerked awake and looked around the room. He was in his hotel suite and even in his dreams, he'd been thinking of everything that had happened. A rough hand tried to flatten his unruly hair before he threw his legs over the side of the bed and rose to go take a shower. Another shower... he used showers like they were some sort of pacifier... as if he'd never feel really clean again!
Long after Lois and Clark had left this morning, he'd stayed awake thinking about his changing life. He'd been convinced that starting over as Conner Devon was the best thing he could do in the circumstances. He'd believed that he could find some sort of peace, but that was before he'd seen Lois again.
And his son. That was mouthful, but one that Clark was beginning to find he liked. He had a son. He and Lois had created that special little life and she'd done a fantastic job up until now to bring him up to be a wonderful person.
<<Without you! She's done it all without you!>>
"It wasn't my choice," Clark shouted aloud. "Dammit, I never wanted to leave her. If I'd had that option, I'd have been here with her, for her. I'd have helped raise our son together. I'd be married to her, a father to him." Clark's voice quieted down and he slumped against the shower wall. "I wanted to be here," he whispered.
<<She says you were. And Clark says she's told him all about you.>>
"Oh, Lois," he cried out softly before sinking to the tile floor and sobbing out his frustrations yet again. Would this continue to be so painful that he could hardly bear to breathe?
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Lois and Clark Jr had slept into the afternoon, following their late night visit with Clark. They'd started to worry when he hadn't called and Clark Jr soon plagued his mother with requests to phone to see what could be wrong. However, when they failed to get an answer after several attempts, they decided to go over to his hotel again.
He wasn't there. His assistant informed them very politely that Mr. Devon had showered, dressed, and left four hours previously without so much as a single word. Unsure of what to do next, Lois and Clark Jr returned home, both extremely disappointed. Neither of them spoke, but both were almost certain that Clark Sr had chosen to leave them again... and without saying goodbye.
Lois had to fight back tears as she unlocked her door. Clark Jr. pushed past his mom and went to seek out Jerry, his new dog. If he couldn't have his father right now, at least he had something his father had given him.
The boy stopped just inside the living room door when his gaze lighted on his dad. The man was kneeled down on the floor, stroking the small dog, but when he realized there was someone in the room with him, he rose and stood, rather nervously, on the other side of the room. Clark Sr's eyes seemed to be filled with fear and uncertainty as they stared at his son.
"I, ah, I was awake for a while after you and your mother left." He paused as Lois stepped into the room, her eyes immediatley glued to him in surprise. "I hope you don't mind me being here. I talked the security guard into letting me in."
"That's fine," Lois told him, a little breathless with relief just to see him here in her apartment. She didn't care how he'd gotten in as long as he was here.
Clark looked at her a moment before continuing. "I… there was so much to think about." He looked down at his hands before lifting his eyes back to his audience. "There's a, ah… I have a very long, very difficult road ahead of me... and I'm not sure I can make it alone." His voice was just barely a whisper.
"We can help," young Clark suggested as he took a few steps toward his father and glanced down at the puppy rubbing against his legs.
"If, if... ah, if you think you can stand it, and I'm sure you can, I... I do want to get to know you... and be part of your life." It was hard for him to speak past the lump that had formed in his throat, but he'd been tossing these warring thoughts around in his head since the night before and they were threatening to overwhelm him. He needed a sounding board. He needed Lois' opinion, and his son's. After all, whatever he decided to do now would affect them, and he was so worried that he'd ruin the lives they'd built for themselves while he was gone.
Part of him wanted so much to stay with them. For so long he'd lived without the loving touch of another human being... someone with whom to share a simple word or caring glance. Was it unfair of him to want that from these two people before him?
Yet, at the same time, he wanted to protect his family... his son, and part of that protection was from the person he believed he'd become... the vengeful man who was plotting the downfall of another human being without so much as an inkling of remorse. He'd even been enjoying it! How could a man like that expect to start a life with a family who loved him?
Though, try as he may, since meeting Lois again and finding he had a child, he'd been unable to find that bitter, angry man. All he found was just the empty shell of his former self. Was it possible that Lois' simple act of reaching out to touch him had started the healing process? And was that what he wanted? He was still determined to see Lex Luthor and all he stood for brought to justice, but it was no longer an obsession.
Yes, he wanted desperately to heal. More importantly, it was what he really needed! Yet he'd learned, in a very hard school, that wanting and needing something didn't always mean it would be so. If that were the case, he'd have escaped from Purgatory a long time ago.
But he couldn't deny that it seemed Lois' gentle caress had cracked the the ice that had frozen his soul. What would the next touch bring? Or that of his son?
Meanwhile, they were standing silently, waiting for him to speak....
"I won't lie and tell you I can ever completely come home again…"
Clark Jr. took the few steps needed to close the distance to his father and reached out to take his large hand. "How about you just agree not to leave?" he asked tentatively.
"You may want me to. I'll have bad days…"
"Yeah. I have those, too," the boy told him as his eyes drifted to the fingers wrapped around his smaller ones. "Grandma gives me buttermilk. She and Grandpa says it's…"
"… good for what ails you," Clark finished with him. His eyes misted over and he kneeled to look at his son. For a moment, nothing was said as Clark drank in the sight of the young man before him. This was his son. *His* son. How could he not want to know him? Or be with him? Or… love him?
"You're so beautiful," he whispered after a moment.
"So are you," the boy told him. Unable to stand it any longer, he inched closer and wrapped his arms around his father's neck for the first time in his life.
Clark was momentarily stunned. But he quickly recovered and lifted his arms to surround the child who was so thoroughly pouring out a generous dose of healing to him. He squeezed gently causing the boy to tighten his grip. After a moment, soft cries could be heard coming from both Clark Kents. The younger Clark turned his face into his father's neck and inhaled deeply before placing a kiss on his skin.
The unexpected action caused the man's hardened heart to melt a little more. He lifted his hand to stroke the back of the boy's head before he pulled back to see his face again. Clark reached up to wipe away the tears staining Clark Jr.'s cheeks. Unable to speak, he contented himself with softly touching the child's face, hair, neck, and shoulders. It was such a simple gesture, a man touching his child, yet for Clark Kent is was a gift he'd never allowed himself to dream. Finally, he decided that gripping his son's sides was what he wanted to do.
Clark Jr.'s arms were still resting on his father's shoulders, his fingers playing in the soft hair that fell over the edge of the collar there. His eyes met his father's when the man spoke.
"You remind me of myself at this age."
"That's what Grandma says all the time."
Clark smiled softly. "I'll bet she thinks you're about the most special thing alive."
"Yeah. I think she's pretty great, too."
Clark almost said he agreed, but decided against it. Of course he knew it to be true. It was just so hard to take that extra little step. He was still unsure if he had that right anymore. Maybe after seeing his parents again, he'd think that to be silly. He squeezed the small sides under his hands before looking up at Lois. She quickly wiped away her tears and offered a slight smile.
"I'm sorry about not calling like I told you I would," Clark told her.
"It's understandable. You have a lot on your mind."
"Yeah." He turned back to his son. "I'd like to see your room."
"Sure!" Young Clark drew away from him and grasped his hand to tug him to his feet. "You'll love it! It's decorated in a Superman theme! Come on, Jerry."
Clark chuckled softly as he allowed himself to be tugged along behind an excited little boy. "Guess I'll be back," he told Lois as he passed. Even the puppy seemed thrilled; he barked happily as he chased the duo up the stairs.
Lois laughed softly as the two men she loved more than anything in the world went to explore a little.
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Clark soaked up his surroundings with an unexpected feeling of joy. It was strange to feel that way; he'd been emotionally numb for so long. As he stood in his son's room, getting a feel for the person this little guy was, he found himself aching to be the kind of man he once was. He, of all people, knew there was no way he could ever go back. But he did know he could move ahead. And ahead was here, with his son… and hopefully with his son's mother.
He refocused on the treasures his son showed him. They spent the next hour going over everything inside the room in detail. Clark, Jr. told the story behind a great many things there, but some didn't need an explanation because Clark was already aware of their significance. Some of his son's things were once his.
"You sure have a lot of the things that used to be in my place," he commented as he touched his game ball from his college football days.
"Grandma and Grandpa kept everything. It was in storage for a while, but last year I asked if I could have some of it. 'Course, some things were already here. This is your bed," he said as he flopped down on the double bed his mom had put in his room when he'd been old enough for a big bed. "I've always had it," he told his dad as he stroked his puppy's fur where the animal lay across the comforter of his bed.
Clark eased over to sit next to his son and reached out to rub Jerry as well.
"And the bookshelves, your desk, and the pictures." The boy gestured to many frames scattered about the room. "There's always been a picture of you on my nightstand." He pointed to the picture beside his bed.
"I guess you've really hated me."
"Hated you? What for?" His little eyes were filled with confusion.
"Because I wasn't here."
"But that wasn't your fault, and you were here. I just couldn't see you.
"Or touch me or talk to me." Clark couldn't help himself. The guilt he felt was beginning to suffocate him.
"I talked to you all the time," Clark Jr. told him. "When I felt bad about something, I told you. When I got mad at Mom or had a bad day at school… I always talked to you."
"That must have been a little difficult."
"Just different." Clark Jr. pulled his leg up on the bed and shifted to look at Clark.
"But different can be… difficult." Clark knew. That was the story of his life. He'd been different for as long as he could remember.
"Different can be great! If you hadn't been different, I wouldn't have been born."
"What?"
"Well, sure. It took a different kind of man for my mom to fall for. So, if you hadn't been, she wouldn't have been interested!" He finished his explanation with a small flurry of his hands.
Clark chuckled softly at the child's reasoning. He couldn't deny that one. It did take a different kind of person for Lois. He'd often wondered how she'd settled on him. Had he really been that worthy?
Jerry jumped to his feet, barked once, then jumped from the bed and ran from the room.
Both Clark's chuckled softly, before Clark's eyes settled on his son again. "Guess he's protecting his territory."
"Or thought he heard Puppy Chow hit his dog dish," Clark Jr. offered.
"So, how did you come up with Jerry for a name?"
"Our middle name, of course," the boy told his father with an expression that clearly thought the adult should have been able to figure that one out.
"Of course," Clark agreed. "And your other dog...?"
"His name was Kal."
This time the child's expression couldn't suppress the older Clark's laughter. It was clear his son's mind and life had always been filled with a fair of amount of... himself.
Clark Jr. smiled brightly before getting to his feet. "Come on. I'll show you the rest of the house."
"Okay." Clark followed his son in silence as he was shown the spacious residence Lois now shared with her son. It was completely different from the small place she'd had on Carter Avenue. This place seemed to be filled with character and with love, along with most of his belongings. It was the kind of place you wouldn't mind spending time in and he certainly wasn't minding much right now.
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When the two Clarks finally decided to make another appearance downstairs, Lois was setting places at the table. She'd ordered out Chinese while she allowed them as much time as they felt they needed together. She looked up from her task when they came into the room.
"Hey. You two hungry?"
Clark looked at the table with appreciation. Since getting out of that prison, eating was something he enjoyed. He glanced down at his son, who seemed to be licking his lips as well. "I think maybe we are," he answered as everyone moved to take a seat at the table. The next little while was spent eating and talking more.
After dinner, the trio settled in the living room to share more conversation and dessert. They talked about everything under the sun, except Clark's imprisonment or his status as Conner Devon. They'd decided those topics would be saved for tomorrow, after Clark had time to digest his situation a little more.
Clark's eyes drank in the sight before him. His son and the woman he loved…
He stopped on that thought. Did he still love Lois? Was it right for him to? Was it something he could actually do? So much time had passed. No matter what his heart was clamouring for now, the fact was he had spent a great deal of time alone and in horrible emotional pain. There were dark days when he felt he'd lost the power to communicate in even the most basic ways and he couldn't just expect it all to go away.
Young Clark scooted across the sofa closer to his dad when he noticed the man seemed to have drifted away from him. He reached out a hand to grasp the large one that lay on the lap beside him.
Clark's heart screamed loudly, louder than it had the night before when Lois hugged him, as the smaller hand folded sure fingers over his larger ones. There was that touch again, dragging him back from despair. It was coming from Clark this time instead of Lois, but it was no less powerful. He gently squeezed the small hand before looking down at Clark Jr. and smiling. He immediately received a beaming smile in return.
"You know," Clark said. "I sure could use a hug," he blurted out. He didn't know where that had come from, but at that moment he felt an overwhelming desire to hold this child, reassure himself he was real.
Young Clark smiled briefly before he rose to his knees and wrapped his arms around Clark's neck. When the boy sat back again, he was smiling. "I can promise a million hugs. Grandma says nothing is better for soothing the soul than a warm hug."
"Your grandma is right. I can already feel my soul starting to sooth."
"Maybe my hugs are super powered." Clark's nose crinkled when he said that, causing his father to laugh softly.
"Maybe they are," Clark agreed.
"Definitely," came a mumbled reply from the other sofa.
Both heads turned to Lois. The older Clark looked back at the boy. "We kind of forgot about her, huh?"
"You can never forget Lois Lane," Clark told his father.
Clark's smile faded as he looked at his son, then his eyes slowly moved back to the woman sitting across the room. "You can't even force yourself to," he said without taking his eyes from hers.
Clark Jr. watched the exchange between his parents. He could almost see the electricity dance between them. He'd only seen one other couple look at each other that way-his grandparents. Mom had said it was because they loved each other so much. Did that mean his parents loved each other? He sure hoped so. To have both his parents with him all the time would be a dream come true.
Clark realized he and Lois were staring at each other and too many raw emotions were jumping between them. He forced himself to look back at his son, a tear escaping from the corner of his eye.
"Why are you crying?" the little guy asked.
Clark reached up to wipe his face. "There's just a lot of pain."
Clark Jr. pulled his hand from his dad's and placed it on his chest. "It hurts in here?"
"Yeah. But not so much as it did before I met you."
His small eyes looked up to meet the larger ones, which were still underlined by deep shadows. "You want to feel the warmth?"
"I do feel it. I want to feel more."
"I promise I'll help."
"You're already helping," Clark said with a smile.
"I'll bet another hug would help."
"I think a kiss would be better." Clark held his breath. Why had he said that? Young boys didn't like to kiss their fathers. But he'd been unable to stifle the irresistible urge to make sure this child was real, in every way possible.
Small hands covered his cheeks as the child leaned forward to grant his father's wish. Clark had made the request in hopes that the child would press his lips to his cheek and maybe allow one in return. Tears stung his eyes when he felt the warm touch of his son's lips against his own. Clark was stunned, but managed to lift his hands to cradle the small head against his chest when Clark Jr. ended the kiss and laid against him. He rested his cheek against the dark shock of hair beneath his chin, sighed contentedly, and closed his eyes to savor the moment... a moment too long in coming.
"Was it?" Clark Jr. asked after a moment.
"Was it what?" he replied without opening his eyes.
"Was it better?"
"Yeah," Clark answered as his arms encircled his son's body to complete the hug.
"You can hold me all you want," came the soft whisper in his ear.
Clark squeezed his eyes to stop the tears that were threatening to spill over. After a moment, he caressed the head of the boy that had literally helped save his life. "I think I'd like that," Clark whispered back.
The small boy kissed the side of Clark's neck. "I love you."
That broke him again. He could only hold the boy and cry, allowing years of pain and misery to slowly leak from his soul. When he finally drew back, he grinned widely. Once again the smile touched his eyes. "You're gonna get sick of me hugging you and crying like a baby."
"If it means you'll be with me, then please don't stop," Clark Jr. told him.
Clark lifted a hand to stroke the boy's face. "You're incredible."
"I have good genes." Clark waggled his brows, then turned to ask his mother if she agreed. She wiped tears from her face and he turned back to his father. "She's the best." He was about to get up and go offer his mom a super hug, when his father stopped him.
"I think I'll just hang onto you a while longer." Immediately Clark had felt his son start to move, he felt unexplicably bereft. Just a few more moments... He pulled the boy to his lap and settled his small back against his chest before he wrapped his arms around him.
"Hang on all you want. I kinda' like hanging on to you, too." Clark Jr. smiled and squeezed the arms holding him. He couldn't understand why he'd been nervous about getting to know his dad. This man was his dream come true. Sure, he could see that there was painful thoughts going on behind those brown eyes as they looked at him, but with the simple logic of a child, he was also sure that if he let his dad hold him long enough, that pain would go away. He smiled and snuggled in closer. He'd give his father all the time he needed, too. He liked being held. And to have someone other than his mom and grandparents do it was wonderful.
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Clark awoke sometime later, still clutching his son to his chest. And for the first time in a long while when he slept, there hadn't been nightmares to disturb his sleep. He shifted to look at the small face in his arms only to be pleasantly surprised to find twinkling eyes staring at him.
"I thought you were asleep," he said to the boy.
"I was, but I woke up a few minutes ago and didn't want to bother you. You were smiling in your sleep. Mom says that's a sure sign that someone's happy."
"I am happy, Clark," he told him.
"I am, too. I'm happy you're here."
"So am I." Clark cupped his cheek, needing the reassurance of being able to touch the boy when he needed to. It was a moment later when they noticed Lois also had dosed off in her chair. Shifting his son off his knee, Clark rose and took her up to her room, tucking her into bed before returning to his son, so caught up in his excitement of this new family situation, he failed to register that he'd held the woman he still loved in his arms.
When Clark returned to the living room, father and son continued to talk about everything under the sun, from Little League to Math problems. They deliberately kept the conversation light and cheerful. There would be plenty of time for heavier topics later.
It wasn't until they noticed the sun starting to rise that they moved. Clark took his son in his arms and they stood at the window and watched the day break together.
Clark quietly talked about some of the places he'd seen the sun rise, but here his voice faltered and his eyes once again became shadowed by suffering. With the insight given to children, Clark Jr probed gently.
"I guess you didn't see the sun much from your cell?"
A wry grin which was almost a grimace crossed Clark's face. "Hardly at all! There was just one tiny window way up in the roof and it only let in enough light to remind me of what I was missing."
"But you don't ever have to go back there and now you can see as many sunrises as you like. Shouldn't be difficult for a man who can fly! Maybe you could take me sometimes," the young boy suggested quietly, suddenly shy.
"I don't fly much, these days," Clark Sr replied and at his son's apparently crestfallen expression, he added, "Of course, I do have a Leer jet at my disposal, so if it's okay with your mother, then I'd like that."
"Cool! And will we always talk like this?" the boy had asked his father.
"I sure hope so." He was about to tell Clark Jr. that there would probably be a time he wouldn't want his father to know what was happening in his life, but something about his expression wouldn't allow him to burst the bubble so quickly. "I'll always talk to you."
"And I'll always talk to you." As if knowing what his dad had been thinking, he added, "Even when I become a teenager and think I know it all."
Clark smiled and hugged Clark Jr. to his chest briefly before pointing out a flock of birds. Their happy chatter broke the still of the April morning.
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Lois awoke slowly, her mind immediately going back to the night before. She remembered falling asleep in her chair, but how had she gotten to her room?
Clark… That answer came when she heard happy voices coming from down the hall. She trudged her way from her room in search of the men in her life.
<<I hope.>>
They may have buried Clark, believing him dead, but his spirit had lived on. He'd been with her every day and she loved him more now than she did ten years ago. Others had failed to exist after him. She now understood what older couples said about hoping they left the world with their spouse so they would never be alone. Lois had fully accepted the fact that there would never be another man in her life save her son. She hadn't even thought of another. Clark was the only man that had a place in her heart... and that included her fantasies.
Her rational mind reminded her that he was different. Too many things had happened to him for her to expect he'd ever be exactly who he was when he was taken away. She just hoped he'd let her in to get to know the man he was now, or the man he thought he was.
She smiled when she saw little Clark sitting on the bed in his room. He was looking up at someone Lois couldn't see and talking a mile a minute. As she drew closer she saw the older Clark standing in front of him.
<<Damn! He's still gorgeous!>>
He wore the same tee shirt and jeans from the night before, but suddenly she was all too aware of him as a man. He was apparently fielding questions from the young Clark.
"Good morning," Lois told them.
Clark stopped his animated explanation and turned to face her. "Good morning. Sleep well?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"You're welcome. What for?"
"Putting me to bed."
"Don't thank me. Clark did it."
The boy smothered a giggle. "You're funny."
Clark just waggled his brows dramatically before turning to Lois. "I sent out for breakfast; a little of everything and it's in warmers by the table."
"Thank you."
"Absolutely."
"Will you two join me for breakfast?"
"We've already eaten. And we've showered. We're going down to Nemons and buy me some new clothes," Clark Jr. told his mom.
"You have clothes," Lois told him.
"I know he does," Clark spoke up anxiously. "But we never shopped for anything together. I hope you don't mind."
Lois immediately regretted her remark. Clark's eyes were full of pain and screamed for acceptance. Did he really think he had no place with his son?
"I'm sorry, Clark."
"No, no, Lois. You don't have to keep apologizing." He ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to gather his thoughts. "I just… I want to spend time with him and I've never done that. So, I thought buying him some clothes would be fun."
"I understand and you should."
"Thank you. We'll wait for you to eat."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you waiting for me? Go. Have fun."
Clark stared at Lois. "Alone?"
"You do know how to shop?"
"Well, yeah, but…" He glanced over at Clark Jr., then back at Lois. "I just thought you'd come along."
"Clark, as much as I'd love to come along, I really think you and Clark need to spend some time alone together. The time will help you… both."
Clark sighed, as her words reminded him of the past, and dropped his head. "It's easy to just pretend none of that ever happened."
She didn't have to pretend she didn't know which *that* he spoke of. He clearly meant his imprisonment and all the horrors involved with it. "But you'll never heal if you do that."
"I know." He nodded and looked over at his son. "And I want to heal." The boy smiled at him. He returned it before he faced Lois again. "Your trust in me just threw me off."
"Clark, I trust you with my life. And that's our son."
"Your trust means more than you know."
Lois offered him a smile before she turned and left the room. "Have fun," she called over her shoulder.
The two Clarks stared at each other a moment before they scrambled to get their shoes on. They raced downstairs, making a game out of leaving. Clark stopped and looked over at Lois, where she sat at the dining room table eating her breakfast. "I'll have him home before lunch time."
"No need. Spend the day with him. Bring him home for dinner. I think maybe a couple of people would like to see you."
Clark felt a little nervousness at the mention of his parents. "Yeah."
A small hand took his. "It'll be okay. I'll hold your hand and give you lots of hugs."
Clark smiled brightly. "Thank you. I may need them."
"Any time." He smiled at his father and pulled on his hand. "Now come on."
"Okay."
"Take care of, Jerry, Mom," Clark Jr. called back as they went through the door.
"I will." She turned back to focus on her breakfast and let her tumbled thoughts drift through her mind. She lifted her head when Clark spoke again.
"I'll stop at the hotel and tell Edward to provide you with a security card. I want you and Clark to come and go as you please."
"Edward?"
"My assistant."
"Oh. Does that mean you'll be staying in Metropolis?"
"I'd like to."
"I think you need to."
"I do," he agreed. "But I don't want to make assumptions either."
"Your place is with your son," she told him firmly.
Clark smiled. "My son. That's amazing."
"He's amazing."
"I agree. He's also waiting."
"So go!"
"Thanks, Lois. Not just for today, but for him."
"I think that was a mutual gift."
Clark wanted to say more, but now was not the time. They'd talk later. He offered one last smile before he disappeared.
Lois let out a breath and continued with her breakfast. So much had happened in the last forty-eight hours. She needed a little time alone to sort through it all.
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tbc...
