No story is complete without a bit of angst!
Enjoy!
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{{{{Run! That was all he could think as his feet carried him further and further into the small grove of trees. Laser fire danced around him as he reached a deep ravine. Adrenaline pumping, he lept across the divide.
"This way, Milord," shouted one of his guard.
They burst forth from the growth into a small village. The various buildings around them were all smoldering. They continued down the path, toward a large structure at the other end. En route they passed an opening between two buildings. Drawing to a halt, he couldn't believe his eyes. There, lying in a heap, were the bodies of several people.
They'd been executed, shot in the backs of their heads. Their hands were tied behind their backs.
My God, there was a child!
He walked over, bending to turn the face of the girl so he could see her fully. She was barely more than six!
Suddenly the face of the girl faded and another took her place.
NO! He stood and backed up in shock. There, in a pool of blood, lay his son.}}}}
Clark sat up in bed, sweat beading on his body. He took several deep breaths to calm himself. It had only been a dream!
But... He threw his covers aside and scrambled from the room. He didn't stop until he was kneeling beside Lane's bed. Almost crying in relief, Clark reached out to rub the thick shock of hair back off the boy's face.
"I won't ever let anything happen to you, son." He watched him sleep for a while before he eased back to his feet. A final glance and he left him there, unaware of his father's demons. Instead of heading back to his room, he padded down the hall to Lois' door. He didn't hesitate as he reached out to turn the knob.
Just like the night before, he crawled onto the bed and wrapped his arm around her. She started, but reached up to pat his arm.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," was all he said as he buried his face against her neck.
She smiled into the darkness, then closed her eyes again. Clark was already breathing deeply.
****
He was gone when she woke up the following morning. It was still fairly early so she wondered what time he'd gotten up. A few minutes later, she joined Martha in the kitchen.
"Good morning, honey," Martha greeted her.
"Morning." She poured herself a cup of coffee. "Did you see Clark this morning?" she asked after she'd taken a sip.
"No. I thought he was still asleep."
"Ah, no." She'd looked in both his room and Lane's, just to make sure. Martha didn't know he came to her room during the night.
"I wonder where he's gone," his mom remarked as she leaned over to peer out the kitchen window.
Lois drank the rest of her coffee before she moved toward the door. "I'm going to see if I can find him."
"Okay."
She set out across the yard toward the barn. That's when she heard the sound of an ax connecting with wood. On the other side of the barn was Clark, chopping wood. Sweat ran off his shirtless body and muscles rippled as he lifted the manual tool and brought it down with a thud. She noticed that he was exerting a tremedous amount of effort with each swing. And he looked angrier than she'd ever seen him. Afraid of his reaction if she made her presence known, she chose to stand at the corner of the barn and watch him.
Again and again he struck the wood. He wished the logs were *him*.
After waking from his nightmare about Lane being dead, he'd had another. Nor had tormented him. He'd killed innocent people. And the bastard had run! Eventually cornered, Nor had been killed. Clark was just furious because of how he'd been killed.
He placed another log on the chopping block and yelled as he brought the ax down. His weapon stuck deeply in the wood and he left it there, heaving deeply as he tried to regain control of himself.
"Clark?"
He twirled to see Lois standing a few feet away. His beautiful Lois.
Suddenly he felt drained. He dropped down onto a log, thrusting a hand through his wet hair.
"We, ah, we have enough wood for the winter," Lois noted as she gazed at the large pile. How long had he been out here? "You do realize it's June?" She'd meant for that comment to break the tension, but it made it worse.
"Whatever," he growled as he shot back to his feet and started snatching the split logs from the ground to stack them. He slammed them down on the pile under the shelter built for that purpose.
"Did I say something wrong?" Lois asked in confusion. He didn't answer, just kept stacking. "Fine," she snapped and turned to leave. She could take a hint.
Clark stopped after a moment. What was wrong with him? One second she was his beautiful Lois, the next she was his greatest obstacle. His greatest emotional obstacle. The dreams he'd had the night before had cast serious doubt in his mind where Lois was concerned. Could he truly come all the way home again? Would he bring too much baggage for her? Is that why she was keeping her distance from him? Yeah, he'd only been home a full day, but there was just something about the way she acted around him.
<You're paranoid, Kent!>
Kent! He'd referred to himself as Kent! He almost felt like crying. He hang his head for a moment and tried to regain his composure. Finally he grabbed his shirt, wiped his face, and headed for the house. He found Lois sitting at the kitchen table talking with his mother.
"I think I've lost my mind," he stated simply as he stood by the table. "There was so much death," he continued before either could speak. "Not just soldiers, but women and children as well. And that was the nice side of the son of a b..." He stopped when he realized what he was going to say.
Both ladies eyes widened at his choice of words, even if he had stopped.
"It's just so hard... the fighting had ended a long time before I came home. I just can't seem to get the images out of my head." He wiped his face again. "Out there just now, when you spoke," he addressed Lois. "The first thing I thought was 'my beautiful Lois'. Then 'Lord Kal' took over, telling me that I can never make you happy. That I can't give you what you need."
"Clark..." Lois began, but he held up his hand to cut her off.
"I, ah, I didn't particularly like that man... Lord Kal. He was egotistical and logical and everything I never want to be. Yet, that's who I was for such a long time."
"Son, it's going to take time," Martha spoke up.
"I know this, Mom. I really do know this. But..." He looked away, tears filling his eyes.
"It's hard," Lois finished for him as she stood and approached him. "But we'll be here. Tomorrow, in a week, in a month." She reached up to cup his cheek. "We love you."
Slowly a smile spread across his face. "And I love you, all of you. Please don't forget that along the way."
"We won't." She slowly reached out to hug him.
"None of us will," came the voice of his mother as she joined them. Clark released Lois and hugged his mother.
"Hey, Mom?" Clark asked, his head resting on her shoulder.
"Yeah?"
"I'd like some pancakes."
She laughed softly as she drew out of their hug. "That's my boy." She patted his stomach before moving across the kitchen to make his breakfast.
****
Clark made it back downstairs from taking a shower about the same time Martha set his pancakes on the table. "Think you could mix this for me, Mom?" Clark asked as he held out a packet to Martha.
"What is it?"
"Nourishment fluid," Clark said softly.
"Why would you need that?" Lois asked as she placed a pitcher of juice beside his plate.
"Well," he started. "I don't really need it." He cast a glance from Lois to his mom, who seemed just as curious. "I can't come off the stuff cold turkey. It's the only thing my body's had for six long years."
Martha looked down at it. "What do I do?"
"Mix it with a quart of boiling water. When it's cool enough, put it in the fridge. It'll be really thick."
He looked almost happy, Lois noted. Was the stuff addictive?
Martha nodded and turned to do what he'd asked. He sat down and began to prepare his pancakes.
"It's not addictive," he answered Lois' unspoken question. "I won't have to drink it at all when my powers return."
She said nothing, just agreed with a shake of her head. "Will Jimmy have to drink it, too?"
"Yeah. He'll need it for about six months." He licked syrup from his finger. "But he was given a strict plan to follow to ween himself."
"Ween himself," Lois said absently. "That's one way of putting it."
Clark stopped his task and looked at her. "Does this bother you? It's not a drug, Lois. You, Lane, my parents, you can all drink it. In fact, it has nutrients you can't get anywhere else." He spread out his arms. "Hell, look at me. And Jimmy. It's like milk. It does a body good," he teased.
She finally smiled. "Kryptonian milk. I can buy that."
"There's just one problem. There are no cows on New Krypton." He shoved a fork full of food into his mouth and sighed. "I missed food," he said again.
"Hey!"
They both turned to see a happy little boy run down the stairs. He didn't stop. Clark turned and caught him, fork stuck in his mouth.
"Morning, Daddy!"
"Mormma, saa," Clark mumbled around the utensil.
Lane pulled the item from his mouth. "You're funny."
Clark smiled. "And you're still the best looking thing I've seen in a galaxy."
"What about Mommy?"
"Well, now, Mommy is in a league all her own, Lane." Clark shifted the boy on his lap and picked up some more food, gently pushing into the child's mouth. "Ya' see, son, there is absolutely no one that can compete with your mommy." Lane turned to look at him, syrup dripping from his lip. Clark reached out to wipe it away with his finger. "Mommys and sons are two different classes," he explained. "A son makes a man feel as if he's truly accomplished something with his life. But a woman makes a man feel complete."
"Daddy?"
"Yeah?"
"I have *no* idea what you just said."
Clark laughed out loud. "I said I think you're great and Mommy's gorgeous. How's that?"
"That I understand!" he said and pulled the fork Clark held close enough to eat the food on it. That caused his father to laugh a little harder. They settled into lighter conversation as they finished their breakfast.
****
Clark lifted the glass to his mouth and downed the blue liquid. He closed his eyes as a rush of energy ran through his body. It had been nearly three days since he'd drank any of it and he instantly felt it's fortifying effects.
"What does it taste like?"
He turned to see Lane standing beside him. "Well, kind of like berries. Want to try?" He held out the glass and the boy leaned up to take a stiff.
"Sure it's okay?"
"Positive. It's like drinking a glass of vegetables."
"Yuck!" But he took the glass anyway. Cautiously he allowed the liquid to roll down and touch his lips. "Mmm," he declared. "This is good!"
"Not compared to Grammy's cooking," Clark told him.
"Will that stuff make him look like a little hercules?" Lois asked as she came into the kitchen.
"No," Clark assured her. "I spent way too much time in the gym." He looked back down at Lane. "Go ahead. You can finish it."
Lane was about to turn the glass up when Lois took it away. "I don't think I want you to have this," she told him and set the glass down on the counter.
"Lois, it's okay," Clark said again.
"Yes, it is, because he's not going to drink it." She moved around them and poured Lane some cold water from the fridge. "Here. Drink this."
Clark stared at her for a moment. "I wouldn't give him anything that would hurt him."
A nod, but nothing else.
"You don't believe me?"
"I just think he shouldn't drink it."
Lane stood with the glass of water, watching his parents closely.
"Don't you trust me?"
"It's not that," Lois began.
"Then what?"
"Clark..."
"You didn't answer. Either question!" He said and he folded his arms across his chest.
Lois was suddenly lost in other thoughts. He looked liked a certain superhero that used to grace the skies of this world. Part of her was transported back, back to a time she longed to have again.
When she failed to say anything, Clark stalked from the house angrily.
"Great, Mom!" Lane shouted and slammed his cup down on the table before he ran after his dad. "Wait up!"
Clark didn't slow down. He'd made it as far as the pecan grove before he stopped to look down at Lane. "You better go back. I might do something wrong!"
"I wanna be with you," Lane said and started out after him again because he was walking away.
"Just go back!" he shouted with enough force to stop the boy.
Lane stood there, large tears welling in his eyes, watching his dad walk away. He looked up when Lois put her hand on his shoulder. "Don't touch me!" he spat, then stomped off toward the barn.
Lois sighed heavily as both of the men in her life walked off in anger. Deciding to give them time and space, she went back inside.
