I'm more than a little too tired to tell you all everything I feel I should say -- Thank you all for reading, and I hope you all have bright and wonderful holidays. 
The 10th and Final Part:**********
The room she lay in was almost like a hospital; plastic had been hung and surgical masks distributed in an effort to make the area as clean as possible. Regardless, his mother didn't seem to be doing any better. In fact, the past few hours seemed to have rendered the effects of weeks of illness.
She looked spent. Dried flem caked under her nose, and there were still flecks of vomit on her lip and chin. She heaved, obviously having nothing left in her stomach to expell, and collapsed again among the white sheets, soaked with sweat.
"...Mom?"
Her eyes traced a pattern on the cieling. She twitched, not having the strength to sit up, so Clark walked straight over and sat in the chair next to her bed.
"Jor-El?" she whispered, her voice barley more than a breath.
"No, Mom. It' me...your son. Kal-El."
Her lips started to twitch into a smile, then she coughed. "Kal---El." He helped her to sit up a little. She drooped in his arms like a ragdoll, completey unable to support her own weight. When at last she could take an uninteruppted breath, he helped her settle back into the bed. "My baby," she whispered.
Clark scrubbed at his eyes and took her in---the woman who had carried him for nine months, or however long, and given birth to him. The woman whose DNA he shared. The woman who knew his history. The woman he'd barely ever known.
She was thin and pale and tired-looking. Her hair was a mix of black and gray, long, and bunched about the pillow. Her smile--the one she was giving him right now--was familiar, and after a beat he realized that it had stared at him from a mirror countless times. Her hand twitched in his, and with tangible effort she squeezed it.
Clark squeezed back.
"I love you, Kal. I always have."
He needed his special hearing in order to understand her. "I know," he answered softly. "I love you too, Mom."
She smiled at him through the drops of sweat trailing down her face. "Kal," she breathed.
He leaned forward. "What, Mom?"
"Kal, go home..."
His eyebrows raised. "What?!" He was on the verge of protesting when she feebly continued.
"We need---to go home---to your father and brother."
"What?" Clark listened in confusion, feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. He tightened his grip on her trembling hand, as though clinging tight enough to her body would stop her soul from slipping away. "Mom..."
"Please, go home, Kal-El."
With that, her eyes closed, and she sank into a blissful unconsciousness.
Clark wasn't sure how long he sat there. It could have been two seconds or two years. All too soon, he felt the hand in his go still.
**********
The millitary, for all its faults, was very efficient at cleaning up. All equipment was removed. The rocket and all extra-terrestrial personel were officially denied. Clark was officially not sitting in an empty room save for his mother's non-existant corpse. He was not weeping. He was not still holding her hand.
Dr. Klein approached him from behind and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Superman," he said. "It's time to leave."
Clark nodded, brushing the tears out of his eyes, only for them to be instantly replaced. It took several furious swipes before he could see. He stood slowly, grabbing the back of the chair, more to anchor him to reality than to support his weight. He stood and stared at his natural mother one more time.
"I spoke with the colenel," Klein said. "The ship, and everything else, are going to STAR Labs." He cleared his throat. "If that's okay with you...."
He nodded again, not taking his eyes off of his mother. "She...she looks happy," he said at last. "I don't know why, but she looks happy." Finally, he scooped her up from where she lay and, cradling her against his chest, followed Dr. Klein out the door.
**********
"Kent, my office. Now."
Clark stood and obediently followed Perry into his office. The editor plunked down into his chair and snatched a piece of paper off of the desk. "Kent? Do you mind explaining to me what this is?" He waved the letter under Clark's nose.
"It's--uh--my two weeks' notice, Chief," Clark answered, though Perry's glare indicated that he already knew. He hurried to explain. "I know I haven't been giving my best performance for a while, and I don't want to be a dead weight while I'm---"
Perry cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Kent," he said, looking Clark square in the eye. "Have you lost your mind? Quitting your job on the same day Superman announces he's leaving for Krypton?!"
Clark squirmed, gaping like a fish at his boss. "Uh..."
"Do you realize what an *opportunity* this could be for you?" Perry continued.
Clark blinked. "Chief?"
"I mean, *THINK*, Kent!" the editor thundered. "A rocket powered by just some rocks and a sun-lamp! Superman's home planet! His Elvis-in-a-hula-skirt *relatives*, for Elvis' sake!"
"Uh----er," Clark stammered.
Perry hushed him up again. "Kent, this could be the biggest story the Planet's ever had since 'Man lifts shuttle into orbit with his bare hands', and I want exclusives! I don't care what strings you've got to pull or whose boots you have to lick; I want you on that ship! Lois too, if you can manage it!"
For a while, Clark could do nothing except stare at the man sitting across from him. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. "Uh..." he said at last. "Chief---!"
"Kent," Perry interrupted, "You won't get on that rocket by sitting in my office. Get out there and get to work, or you can consider yourself *fired*!"
"Uh, yes, sir! Tha---uh, right!" Clark hurried for the door.
"And, Kent?"
Clark paused with his hand on the door handle. "Yes, Chief?"
Perry leaned forward on the desk, steepling his fingers. "You'd better come back with one *Hell* of a story!"
~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~
END OF PART I
