Title: Superman: Destiny Embraced

Author: RedKryptonClark aka RKC_EB aka Erika
Timeframe: Post Smallville

Summary: Clark Kent has returned from his training and begins his duel life as mild mannered reporter and superhero. Story is loosely based on the script of the original Superman: The Movie script, however it will contain cast and characters created from SMALLVILLE in the leads. Characters will be vastly different in their portrayals than in the film, however, you will see some similarities. And knowing me I'll probably completely steer off of the course of the original story

Characters: The usual suspects: Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Perry White, Jimmy Olson, Chloe, Martha Kent, and Lex Luther.

Rating: PG-13

Previous Story: RedLust Could be considered a Prequel of sorts






Prologue


Go now son and make me proud.

There was nothing left to say, after years of fighting against beginning his training with his biological father and refusing to face his destiny, the son finally relented, studied hard, and had now reached the end of his lessons. He had no diploma to show for his education, for what he learned would never be taught in classrooms. Try as they might, humans could never fully comprehend the wonders of the cosmos. Kal-El had learned everything important that Jor-El had thought to store in the stone that helped to create his Fortress of Solitude. The knowledge contained in the arctic ice structure held a universe of knowledge acquired by the brightest historians from his family’s now dead home world of Krypton.

As he stepped out of the structure, Kal-El, the true son and heir to the legacy of Krypton turned his face skyward and gazed at the stars that twinkled like a billion shimmering bulbs overhead. Scanning them with his bare blue eyes, he knew which ones contained intelligent life and which ones did not. This knowledge had been part of his training. But it was not aliens from far distant planets that consumed his first thoughts as a free man, he could only think of one thing…going home.

The Arctic air was cold and frigid, but it felt amazingly refreshing against his skin. The cold wind restored him awakening all of his senses. He felt more alive than he had his entire life...he was whole. The air was fresh and clean. The arctic was one of the last natural refuges on this planet not corrupted by pollution. The sky was endless and snow pure white.

Deep down he knew that Jor-El had hoped to rid him of his humanity during his training, for much of that time was spent focusing on the frailties and flaws of the human race. These particular lessons were ones that Kal-El listened to but did not take to heart. Kal-El associated himself more with his fellow humans than with his Kryptonian side. He was, in essence, more human than alien. That viewpoint could be seen from a certain point of view, there aren’t too many humans out there who possess super heightened strength, speed, hearing, vision, or were bullet and fireproof, had super breath, heat and x-ray vision, nor could any of them fly. Kal-El could do all of these things..and more. Early on in his life these gifts separated him from his human friends and even caused irreparable rifts between he and his childhood friend Pete. Pete was forever jealous of his amazing skills and moved away to get out from under his shadow. At times he worried that he would be alone forever. He now understood that it was possible that was a price he would have to face for being allowed to live when the rest of his people had perished. Kal-El would go on because so many were gone forever.

Yes, humans were flawed, but he loved them…all of them. He loved this planet. Unlike the icy cold and stark Krypton where he was born, Earth was warm, green, and full of life and the gloriously golden sun that illuminated the planet nourished his soul and was the source of all of his superpowers. The human race had problems but Kal-El had learned over the course of his youth that they could learn from their mistakes as well and could be made to walk the path of righteousness…they just needed guidance to do so.

Kal-El observed that the moon was set at the seven o’clock hour, he still had plenty of time to catch his friends at their work before heading home to his mother. With a grin on his face that made his eyes sparkle, Clark Kent bent his body at his knees, pushed off of the earth, soared skywards, and headed home.

**************************

Chapter 1

Lightly Clark stepped down in an alley two streets away from The Daily Planet in the Kansas city of Metropolis. A stray cat yowled in surprise and ran off. The alley smelled of garbage, human urine, exhaust fumes, and freshly baked bread from a bakery around the corner. Clark quickly looked around and was pleased to see that no one had witnessed his miraculous appearance. Clark was able to tell by the location of the moon what time it was in the evening, but not the date. Quickly he opened a dumpster and extracted a newspaper that appeared freshly thrown out. The date on it was five years past when he had entered the Fortress of Solitude. He would be considered twenty-four human years now along with all of his friends. His brows furrowed together and he felt a pang of regret that he’d somehow missed five years of watching everyone that he cared about grow older. Would they even recognize him now?

Feeling slightly melancholy, he walked out of the alley and spied a twenty-four hour convenience store. Briskly he jogged across the street and entered the quickie mart. He waved to the Pakistani clerk at the front desk and walked around the store not entirely positive what he was looking for. Mostly he was just delighted to be seeing the world again after being cooped up in the Fortress for five years. Clark found himself intrigued by the smallest things including new logo designs that were on popular soda cans. He picked up a late night edition of The Daily Planet and tucked it under his arm. As he walked down the makeup aisle he spied his reflection gazing back at him from a large mirror that hung overhead. Clark gawked at his mirrored image with extreme fascination. Five years had passed and other than his skin having completely lost all traces of suntan, he looked nearly identical to the day that he’d disappeared from the world’s radar. His shaggy brown bangs covered his forehead and underneath a pair of inquisitive bright blue eyes studied his reflection. He massaged his jaw and noted that his features were slightly more chiseled than before and accentuated the cleft in his chin, but beyond that he looked exactly the same. He even wore his same red jacket, blue t-shirt, and jeans that he used to wear like a uniform.

This isn’t good, he thought to himself. He knew that his friends would all look different and he needed to appear like he’d aged five years. With a new quest in mind, Clark walked down the aisles and spied a rack of reading glasses. Most of them were very old fashioned and styled for elderly people. He spun the rack around and finally located one pair that he thought might be passable for stylish. Clark looked around to make sure that nobody was watching him and verified with his x-ray vision that there weren’t any cameras pointed in his direction. He then wrapped his large hand around the lenses on the glasses. Activating his heat vision he melted the glass in the frames thereby removing their factory distortion. He gently blew on the lenses to cool them down. When he put them onto his face the glass was clear and did not affect his vision in the slightest. Quickly looking himself over in the mirror he decided that did the trick and he appeared older. Then he proceeded down the hair care aisle and found a large tube of styling gel. He smirked at its claim for “super hold” and decided to purchase it as well. Clark began to thumb through some hair care magazines to get ideas on how he could style his hair to make him appear older when he heard a commotion at the front of the store.

Still holding the magazine he saw two armed men pointing guns at the clerk and heard them demanding money. In the past Clark might have privately used one of his super abilities to disarm the men, but that was not why he was sent to this planet, at least not anymore. It wasn’t his destiny to hide in the shadows and save lives, he had been sent here to inspire the most common of people. Boldly he stepped forward and with a smile on his face he asked, “Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

One of the armed men turned and pointed his weapon at Clark’s chest and demanded, “Put your hands in the air pinhead and give me your wallet!”

Momentarily confused by the rude name that the man called him, Clark realized he was still wearing the reading glasses. He smiled and complied to the man’s wishes. He was holding his hair gel and magazine in the air, newspaper still tucked under his arm. Having been out of the world for so long, “Now is there any reason to be rude? You can politely ask for my wallet, you know?” As expected, his armed robber got very angry.

The man growled behind his mask, quickly spun Clark around, and threw him against a candy rack. Candy bars and Clark's intended purchases flew around the store, freeing Clark’s hands. In the ensuing confusion Clark snatched the man’s right wrist and twisted it behind the criminal’s back causing him to drop his weapon. Clark then threw the man directly against his baffled partner in crime. As the two men fell into a pile of arms and legs on the floor, Clark picked up a new extension cord, quickly unwrapped it, and descended upon the men hogtying their hands and feet together.

“Call the police please, I think you’ll want to report a citizen’s arrest,” Clark said, happily to the stunned clerk behind the counter.

Looking around, Clark picked up his paper, magazine, and hair gel and put them along w/ the glasses onto the counter. He asked, “How much for these items?” He then reached down and picked up one of the candy bars that had fallen out of the display case. “I’ll take one of these too.”

“No payment,” the clerk said, voice full of wonder.

“You're kidding right? You’ll be fired if you let me have this stuff. Do you really want to get fired over, what? Twelve dollars?” Clark put a $20 bill on the counter and watched the speechless clerk ring in the items and made him change.

Clark took his change and his purchases, smiled, patted the struggling thieves on their struggling shoulders, unwrapped his candy bar, took a bite, saluted the men inside, and exited the store. With joy in his heart and lightness of feet, Clark Kent turned down the street and stopped into a department store. Twenty minutes later he emerged wearing a new outfit of khaki pants, shiny brown leather loafers, a small checkered button up blue shirt, and a navy blue sports coat. He had also spent a few minutes styling his bangs off of his forehead and slicking his hair back and out of his face.

Clark examined his reflection in the shop’s window and now barely recognized himself. Any and all traces of the former farm boy that he used to be had been eradicated from his appearance. As if to further bring that point home, he spied a homeless man sitting on the street and handed the man his bag that contained his old outfit. Entirely free of his former self, he headed towards The Daily Planet looking to surprise his good friend Chloe Sullivan.

*****************************

Clark’s new shoes squeaked and echoed as he walked across the marble floor in the entry hall of The Daily Planet, Metropolis’s most respected newspaper. He approached an information computer terminal and typed in Chloe’s name, knowing that his bright and ambitious friend would no longer be working in the basement. The terminal beeped at him and gave him a zero match result back. Clark frowned at the machine and turned to face the bored looking receptionist who sat at a large desk across the hall.

“Excuse me, I’m trying to look for someone who used to work here. I’m positive that she’s still here but I wasn’t able to pull her name up. Can you help me?” Clark politely asked.

The girl had earrings sticking out of every inch of bare skin. She stopped staring vacantly at a spot on the wall in front of her and arched her brows as the only sign of recognizing Clark’s query. Still obviously bored, she activated her computer screen.

“Who’re you looking for?”

Clark smiled. “Chloe Sullivan.”

The girl speedily typed in Chloe’s name. “Zippo.”

He furrowed his brows and then an idea came to him. “Can you try searching just by her first name?”

She typed in Chloe. “Four hits man. None are Sullivan.”

“May I?” he asked and peered at the names on her screen. They stopped on the third name. A slightly shocked and then happy grin came over his face. “Can you please look at that one?”

“Dude, why didn’t you say Chloe Olson? She’s like a huge columnist here. She’s got a corner office on the seventeenth floor,” the girl said.

“Thank you!” Clark happily said and dashed towards the elevators and took them to the seventeenth floor.

When he reached his destination he wandered around until he found a corner office with Chloe’s name on it. He peered inside but found the office dark. The door was unlocked. He opened it and walked inside. He could smell the light fragrance of Chloe’s favorite hand lotion in the room. A large smile of recognition hit Clark hard and he felt slightly giddy, even though his friend was gone for the day, the scent reminded him of happier times.

He walked over to her desk and turned on her desk lamp. Chloe's desk was meticulously clean. Next to her computer he spied a row of photographs. One was a wedding photo of her and her photographer Jimmy Olson. Clark’s heart tugged in happiness, Chloe looked so delighted in her wedding photo. He then spied another pair with the happy couple holding a couple of small children.

“Wow, has that much time really passed?” he asked. He then spied another picture that made his heart flop anxiously in his chest. A woman with long light brown hair held one of the Chloe’s children in her lap. The baby had its finger stuffed up her nose and she was howling with laughter.

“Lois,” he moaned, his voice thick with emotion. He picked up the picture frame and brought it closer to his face. He touched the picture frame and traced the outline of her face as if by doing so he'd be able to actually feel her silky skin. Clark didn’t know how it was possible but she looked more beautiful than ever than when he left her five years ago. Reluctantly he put the frame down and looked around the office and found a sticky note. A sly grin came over his face and wrote on it “I’m back.” He chuckled at his own cleverness – he wrote it in Kryptonian. Clark knew that Chloe wouldn’t be able to read it but the message would be clear, she'd know where it came from. Carefully he stuck the note onto her keyboard, was about to turn off the light when his eyes fell onto Chloe’s phone. The speed-dial buttons all had extensions written on them, but his eyes fell upon the top left name: Lois EXT 1977.

“Lois works here?” he asked and suddenly felt very nervous. His hand involuntarily flinched and knocked over Chloe’s cup filled with pens scattering them all over her tidy desk. Embarrassed he picked them all up and put the cup back in place.

He saw that Chloe’s extension was 1776, he assumed that Lois must be on the nineteenth floor. Clark took a deep breath to control his emotions, turned off Chloe’s light, and left her office to seek out the woman who drove him positively crazy from the first moment that they met nearly ten years ago.

Lois Lane was anything but your average woman, she was bossy, opinionated, bold, and completely the opposite of mild mannered Clark. They spent many years ruffling each others feathers before coming to understandings of sorts. Somehow in the middle of their strange, twisted friendship, Clark developed feelings for her that ran deeper than anything he’d ever experienced in his life…even deeper than for his first love Lana Lang. The thought of seeing Lois after all of these years filled him with conflicting emotions of dread and joy at the same time.

He coughed out a small laugh and took two flights of stairs up to the nineteenth floor. Clark Kent had always been somewhat nervous and confused around women, but after figuring out that he had feelings for Lois he had suddenly turned into a walking disaster around her. He couldn’t think straight and always managed to knock over anything that was within arm’s distance. Chloe had found this sudden change from charming farm boy to super klutz to be highly amusing, he however, did not. His alarming change in personality had somewhat affected his decision to go off and study with Jor-El, he figured learning everything about the world would certainly cause him to stop bumbling around Lois Lane. Judging by his reaction to seeing her name on Chloe’s phone, Clark knew that was a big fat lie, he may now possess the knowledge of the universe, but he was still a fool.

Maybe she’ll find it endearing now instead of annoying, Clark hopefully thought and immediately grimaced knowing that wouldn’t be the case.

Clark stepped out of the stairwell and listened around the newsroom. There was a bustle of people still working at the nine o’clock hour but not many. Clark used his 6’4” frame to crane his neck over the miles of cubicles searching for where Lois might be hiding. As he wandered aimlessly around the room before he finally found a woman typing and tapped on her outside cubical wall seeking assistance.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could tell me where Lois Lane sits?” Clark asked.

The woman appraised the man scanning him from toe to head. Tall, gorgeous she thought the man must have a rock hard body hiding under very boring clothes. She suddenly felt very hot. “Four rows over, side office.”

“Thank you,” Clark gushed and beamed at her.

The woman melted into her chair.

Clark approached the office and immediately tried to straighten his tie, only to foolishly realize too late that he wasn’t wearing one. He rubbed his large hands together that were both slick with perspiration and he couldn’t breathe. When he rounded the corner he saw her name on the door…her office was dark. Clark felt deflated, she was gone also. He opened her door and walked inside. Immediately he recognized the smell of her fruity shampoo, but it was mixed with the unpleasant smells of stale coffee, dead greasy fast food wrappers, and cigarettes?

A large disapproving frown spread over Clark’s face as his x-ray vision revealed a large carton of cigarettes buried in one of her drawers. Unlike Chloe’s nice tidy office, Lois’s space looked like a bomb went off in it. Reams of notes were scattered all over the place, her file cabinet doors were bursting with papers, she had pens thrown all over her desk – it was a pigsty in here.

“Lois,” he said disapprovingly. He shook his head, not overly surprised at the mess, Lois was always a slob. He noticed that there was an empty desk sitting opposite of hers and realized that she shared the office with someone or had done so at some point anyways.

Clark didn’t bother leaving her a note since he had a feeling that she would never find it in her mess. Just as he was about to leave his eyes fell upon a picture frame buried under a stack of papers. He picked it up and felt his heart flop…the photo contained a picture of Lois posing with Clark’s family on the Kent farm. He remembered the day that Chloe snapped that Kent family photo and had insisted that her cousin get into the picture. Lois stood in front of him with Clark’s parents next to them. Jonathan Kent had his arms wrapped around Martha and in a strange fit of wanting to imitate his father Clark did the same thing to Lois. The alarmed expression on Lois’s face that Chloe caught on film was highly comical. It caused Clark to burst out laughing.

“What do you think you’re doing in here?” A male voice boomed from the doorway.

Startled, Clark nearly dropped the photo and turned towards the door. His eyes immediately narrowed in recognition of the man standing in the doorway.

“Mr. White?”

Perry White stared quizzically at the well dressed man clutching one of Lois’s photographs. The middle aged, balding, slightly plump man examined the intruder and realized that he looked vaguely familiar. “Do I know you?” Perry White asked in a slightly nasally voice.

“Well I wouldn't say know, but we met several years ago,” Clark said, putting down the photo, he walked towards the infamous reporter.

A flash of recognition sparked over Perry White's face. “Clark Kent! My god! What happened to you? Last I heard of you, you were the State Champion Quarterback, then nothing...it's like you dropped off of the face of the planet...well wait now actually I guess there was that thing in the gossip column about you coming between one of Lex Luther's lady loves?”

Clark frowned and blushed at the same time. He then put on a broad smile. “You have quite a memory Mr. White. I worked my father's farm for a while after he died and recently I've been overseas studying.”

“Tired of being a farmer, Kent?” Perry asked, grabbing the much taller man by the arm, he directed Clark towards his own office, and shut Lois's door behind them.

“Well let's just say that I don't think I'm meant to be a farmer,” Clark offered. “I believe that I'm meant to do more in my life than muck stalls all day long.”

White laughed and clapped a hand onto Clark's back. He shoved the tall young man into his office and slammed the door shut behind them. Perry pointed to a chair and Clark sat down, smiling. “So you're back at the Planet, looks like you managed to redeem yourself after your time in tabloid television.”

“Yes my X-Styles days are long gone. Did you know that thanks to you I'm still sober, Kent?”

“That's fantastic, Mr. White, I'm glad to hear it,” Clark replied and was impressed.

“Yeah well, I couldn't exactly have made editor if I was tanked all of the time,” Perry said, eyebrows arched and grinning broadly from ear to ear.

“Wow! Congratulations!” Clark said and offered the editor his hand again.

“So kid, what were you doing here and why were you snooping in Mad Dog's office?”

“Mad Dog?” Clark asked, with confusion. Then he laughed incredulously. “Is that what you call Lois?”

“She's insane, Clark. That woman terrorizes everyone that she knows just to get the lead on a story. People steer clear of her,” Perry reported, his eyes glowed with obvious pride over his star reporter.

“Humm...sounds like Lois Lane, she's scary,” Clark confirmed, trying desperately not to smirk.

Perry stared at the young man who once risked his own neck to save his own after he stupidly jumped off of a bridge trying to prove that Clark had special abilities. Clark Kent wasn't super-powered, but he was something even more amazing, he was a person with a great big heart. Even more important than that, Clark Kent was the most honorable and honest person that he knew.

“Oh yes, now I recall, she used to work for your mother, didn't she? How is the Senator by the way?”

Clark opened his mouth to speak but failed to find any words.

“She's making quite a rep for herself in Washington, people are terrified to face her down on the Senate floor I'll tell you that!” Perry laughed.

Pride filled Clark's heart. His mother had made it to Washington and was a national Senator. He was so pleased for her. “She's quite amazing.”

“Alright, well enough small-talk, you said you've been away for a while. Did you do any writing when you were gone?” Perry asked, leaning over on his desk he knitted his fingers together and examined Clark like a bug under glass.

“Well I did a lot of studying,” Clark replied, deflecting the question.

“I'm assuming you wrote a lot of papers then?”

“Well I did have to prove that I understood what I read,” Clark answered, recalling Jor-El constantly badgering him to repeat his lessons word by word back to him upon completing each one.

“Good, then why don't we start you at grade 9,” Perry said, beaming.

“Excuse me?” Clark asked, completely confused.

“Pay scale...grade 9...level 9 reporter. You'll be working under me, although I have to tell you that you'll actually be working with your good friend Lois Lane,” Perry said, suddenly hiding his mouth behind his hands.

Understanding dawned on Clark. “Are you offering me a job, sir?”

“Sir? Damn you are the politest person that I know, kid. I like you Kent! Ok, fine grade 10.”

“I don't need more money...whatever is fine,” Clark stammered. Did he want this? For years he scoffed at Chloe about working as a reporter, but he suddenly realized that he had enjoyed his years in high school working on The Torch. A broad grin plastered over Clark's face and he announced, “I'm happy to take the job Mr. White, I won't disappoint you!”

“Great! I'll see you back here at eight AM sharp so that you can fill out your new hire paperwork,” Perry announced and stood up. “Welcome to The Daily Planet Clark Kent.” Clark vigorously shook his hand and exited the office suddenly elated.

As Perry watched the delighted young man nearly bound away with joy from his office, he shook his head. He muttered, “Poor bastard, he has no idea what he's just gotten himself into. Mad Dog is going to eat him for breakfast.”

With a small high pitched chuckle, Perry White retreated back into his office to finish some final editing before going home for the night. He knew that he wanted to be well rested for tomorrow, if nothing else there should be plenty of entertainment provided by Lois Lane to keep the day from being dull.

*****************************

Chapter 2

Martha Kent woke up with the rooster crowing and yawning made her way downstairs towards her kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. As she rounded the first wave of steps she suddenly was very confused as her nostrils detected fresh brewed coffee on the air. Martha came down the stairs and gasped. A man stood in front of the kitchen sink and was gazing out the window towards the rising sun. The beams showered him with light making it hard to clearly see the details of his profile.

“Who are you? What do you want?” she demanded, and fumbled for Jonathan's grandfather's rifle that hung on the wall.

“Mom, relax, it's me,” a voice answered out of the light.

Martha's heart nearly stopped as the man exited the light and stood before her. “Clark!” she shouted with joy. A smile ten stories wide covered Clark's face as he quickly snatched his mother up in his arms and squeezed her tighter than he'd ever held another person.

“When did you get back?” Martha asked and pulled away to look at her son's face. His skin was pale and slightly more refined, but otherwise he looked almost exactly the same as the day he left the farm to complete his training. She noticed a couple of other things too, he was dressed like he was going to a party or something, and he had a pair of eyeglasses resting on the top of his head. “Clark, why do you need glasses?”

“Oh I don't,” he said, laughing. “I just thought that after being gone for five years that I could use looking like I'd aged some.” Clark pulled them down off of his head and put them on. “What do you think?”

His mother let out a small laugh. “Wow, I didn't think it was possible that you could be any more handsome than you already are.”

“Stop it, Mom,” Clark said, extracted himself from her arms and poured her a cup of coffee. He dumped in a large spoonful of rich cream into it and a package of artificial sweetener. Clark handed his mother her coffee and realized that she had slightly changed over the past five years. Her hair coloring didn't manage to hide all of her gray hairs anymore and she had a few more lines around her eyes and mouth. She was still ravishingly beautiful though.

Martha smiled warmly at her son realizing he remembered exactly how she liked her coffee. He then pulled a giant pot of oatmeal off of the stove and scooped them each out a bowl, covered them with freshly cut strawberries, poured sugar over both bowls, and layered them in milk.

“Sorry, I don't have time for making anything more substantial, otherwise I would have, Mom,” he said, stuffing a mouthful of hot cereal in his mouth. He particularly enjoyed the sweetness of the strawberries. He groaned in pleasure.

“Why are you all dressed up Clark? Where are you off to?” Martha asked, suddenly sad that her son would be leaving so soon after he just got back.

“I got a job,” he answered and laughed at the shocked expression on her face.

“I know, what can I say, I'm fast huh? I flew into Metropolis looking for Chloe at The Daily Planet and I ran into Perry White and he offered me a job,” Clark explained.

“You're going to be a reporter?” Martha exclaimed, beaming with pride.

“Oh it's even better than that, Mom. I get to work with Lois!”

Martha stared at her son and didn't quite know what to say. Her smile fell to a look of pity.

“What's wrong?” Clark asked, holding his spoon mid lift towards his mouth.

“Oh honey, I don't know what kind of a reception you'll get from Lois.”

“Why?” Clark asked, now suddenly very afraid.

“Lois visits me at least two or three times a month, she always asks about you and where you are and how you're doing...but she's very, very frustrated with you,” Martha responded, averting her eyes.

“Why?”

“Well, you know we worked things out so that you gave me all of those pre-written letters that I could pull out and show to people if they asked where you were and how you were doing?”

“Yeah?” Clark said eyebrow lifted in puzzlement.

“She's upset that you never wrote her...not even once. She knows your handwriting so it's not like I could just create something and pass it off to her,” Martha said. “I’d thought of writing her a couple of emails for you, but…that didn’t seem right either.”

“Didn't I usually add to say hello to Lois and Chloe in each of those letters to you?” Clark asked.

“Yes, but that's not exactly the same as you putting pen to paper and writing specifically to either of them,” Martha replied.

“Really? And how many letters exactly did she write to me?” Clark spat back. “I’m sure zero, right?”

To his confusion, Martha stood up and walked over to a chest that sat in the front hallway and opened it. She pulled out a stack of envelopes and came back to the table and delivered them to their intended party. Clark rifled through them and counted at least thirty letters that were all addressed to him with Lois’s address in the top left corner. Wracked with guilt he stared at his mother with large sad eyes.

“Oh god, she's going to hate me, isn't she?”

“No, she could never hate you, Clark. But I just wanted to let you know so that you’re not blindsided,” Martha explained.

“Thanks,” he said, and looked at the letters.

“Why don’t I get dressed and drive you to Metropolis? That will give you time that you can read them in the car. That way you can at least show her that you know what she wrote to you,” Martha offered.

“It’s a three hour drive to Metropolis, Mom. I need to be in the office at eight,” Clark replied, opening the first of the letters.

“Well, you can stay in the car for an hour of the ride or so and then run to Metropolis if you need to,” Martha offered.

“I think my running days are over, Mom,” Clark said, scanning Lois’s economical penmanship. “God she really is a terrible speller.”

“What do you mean your running days are over? Are your powers gone?” Martha asked, fearfully.

Clark glanced up from the letter and grinned at his mother. “No, quite the opposite, in fact. Mom, I’ve fully embraced my Kryptonian heritage.”

Martha narrowed her eyes in confusion and then they flew open wide in understanding. “Oh, oh, OH! You can fly now?”

A sly grin spread over Clark’s face and he nodded his head.

“How does that feel?” Martha asked, sipping her coffee.

“Amazing and freeing. I’ll have to take you for a flight sometime Mom, you’ll love it,” he offered, beaming.

Martha laughed out loud. “Oh I don’t think so, Clark. I think I’m past my thrill days. As much as I trust you, I think I’ll stick to airplanes for assisting me with my air mobility needs.”

Clark laughed heartily. He grabbed her hand and said, “I’d be happy to have you drive me part way to Metropolis, Mom.”

Blushing happily, Martha hopped off of her chair and headed upstairs. “I’ll be ten minutes.”

Clark smiled and began devouring Lois’s letter again in anticipation for her assault on its content.

***********************************

Thirty minutes later Clark and his mother were on the highway heading towards Metropolis.

While reading endless pages of Lois’s ramblings about her work and Chloe’s children, Clark shook his head. “I can’t believe her.”

“Who? Lois?”

“No, Chloe!”

“What about Chloe?”

“Mom, do you know what she named her children?”

“Lara and Jordon, right?”

Clark’s brow arched skywards. “You don’t find anything weird about that? What is Jordon’s middle name?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember, Clark,” Martha answered from behind the wheel.

“Well according to Lois, Jimmy’s a big Lord of the Rings fan…his middle name is Elrond…Mom, she named her kids after my biological parents!” Clark exclaimed. “Jordon Elrond…Jor-El, Lara…”

Realizing what her son had said, Martha was overcome by a fit of raging giggles. “Oh dear…well I guess she really does miss you, Clark.”

Laughing himself, Clark further pointed out, “Lara’s middle name is Arwen – these poor kids, they’re part elf and part Kryptonians.”

In their merriment, Martha and Clark barely noticed the logger truck that barreled past them on the highway. Martha then happened to glance at the truck and let out a shout. “Clark!”

Throwing his letters in the backseat, Clark stared at the truck in alarm. It was swerving erratically all over the road and was heading straight towards the back side of a school bus. Martha saw Clark’s face change from merriment to extreme determination.

“Excuse me, Mom,” he said. In a blink of an eye, the door on the car flew open and Clark was gone. Martha slammed on her brakes and drove off of the side of the road and watched as the restraints holding the logs on the back of the truck snapped. Everything happened in slow motion…the truck jackknifed and began barreling towards the bus and four other cars on the highway. Suddenly a flash of blue and red appeared out of the sky and a man dropped down in front of the fast moving truck. Powering his arms into the side of fast moving vehicle, the truck screeched and buckled as it crashed against the man. Martha’s mouth gaped open as the man grabbed hold of the truck’s undercarriage, lifted it off of the ground and quickly relocated it into the highway’s medium where its cargo tumbled into the ditch missing all oncoming traffic.

Blinking rapidly and heart pounding in her chest, Martha glanced at the cars around her that had all stopped on the highway. She spied an older woman in the car next to her holding up a cell phone. Martha realized the woman had just captured the amazing feat on her video phone.

Martha glanced back over at the truck and saw that the flying man had pulled the driver out and was applying CPR to his chest. The driver suddenly woke up and appeared quite confused over what had just happened. The hero flashed him a grin, said something encouraging and saluted him. The man glanced towards Martha’s car and smiled broadly. Martha spied the Kryptonian S on the dark blue suit and everything immediately clicked into place. The man stood up and was enshrouded by a long flowing red cape. He waved to everyone on the highway and then shot up into the sky and vanished out of sight.

After the initial shock wave had washed over her regarding what had happened, Martha Kent fully realized what she had just witnessed. She picked up her cell phone and called for an ambulance to help the driver. She was then overtaken by the most desperate longing to be able to talk to her deceased husband, she had never been so proud in her entire life of their son and wished nothing more than to be able to tell him how Clark had finally embraced his destiny. Although he was Jor-El’s son, Clark’s heroic act came entirely from his human father’s upbringing…their son had fully become the man that Jonathan Kent had imagined. Clark Kent would become a god amongst men – but instead of ruling them with strength, he would rule them with the conviction and strength of Jonathan’s love and morals.

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The city streets of Metropolis buzzed with the early morning crowds of folks racing towards their jobs. Cell phones blared, people screamed into their phones oblivious of anyone around them, horns honked from stalled traffic, and the air was heavily scented with exhaust fumes and coffee. Lois Lane gulped back her last swig of coffee and slammed her shoulder into the door of the nearest STARBUCKS. The place was jammed full of caffeine deprived customers. Upon spying the tall woman, one clerk held out two venti sized cups, and quickly took Lois’s change. They had learned the hard way that keeping Lois waiting was NOT good for business.

Slamming down half of her second coffee, Lois’s cell phone blared in her pocket. She fumbled with her two cups and pulled it out and shouted over the din of traffic, “Lane here.”

“Lois, what are you going to tell, White?”

Immediately recognizing Jimmy Olson’s voice, she barked back, “That I think he’s a bottom feeding scum sucker for forcing me come in for an eight AM meeting after staying out until four AM on a stakeout?”

“You know that wasn’t what I meant,” Jimmy responded. “We got nothing!”

“Yeah well, I guess that’s the last time I trust that particular source again. Unfortunately, all tips don’t always pan out, Jimmy,” Lois replied and chugged the second half of her coffee.

She then threw out the cup leaving only one more manageable cup to deal with. To further complicate things, she dug into her purse and extracted a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag off of it.

“Well just make sure you let him know that I wasn’t the one who got the tip,” Jimmy pleaded.

“You’re such a wuss,” Lois replied, grinning. “I’ll catch you later.”

Lois crushed out her cigarette and barreled into the doors of The Daily Planet. With the fresh buzz from the caffeine and nicotine in her system, Lois almost felt human enough to face what would most assuredly be another screaming batch with White. Lois waited with a group of reporters to get into the elevators. She thought she heard someone calling her name but was so engrossed in trying to figure out what to say to Perry White that she didn’t register who was trying to get her attention. Lois jumped into the closest elevator and watched as the door slammed shut in front of the face of a tall dark haired man wearing glasses. She pounded on the nineteenth floor button and enduring several minutes of various stops as the elevator climbed up to her floor.

When her elevator finally stopped on the nineteenth she burst past everyone and marched purposefully towards her office. Chugging the last of her third coffee for the day, Lois finally felt human as the cobwebs from the lack of sleep finally burned off. She walked into her office to find someone sitting in her chair.

Normally an impromptu meeting with her cousin would be a highlight of Lois’s day, but today she was on edge. “Chloe, what’s up?”

Her very pregnant cousin stared at her with large round eyes. “You didn’t get a note did you?”

“A note? About what?” Lois asked, opening her mini-fridge she pulled out a Mountain Dew and cracked it open.

“From whom actually,” Chloe corrected.

“I just got here, Chlo, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lois said. She pressed her fingers against her temple and groaned. “Crap I have a headache coming on. Did Jimmy tell you about our charming failed stakeout last night?”

“Yeah, he did,” Chloe answered, her eyes full of concern.

“White’s going to rip me a new one. I went on and on about how hot this story was and I’ve got nothing,” Lois growled and wrapped her arms around her chest.

Chloe examined her cousin who was wearing a beige business suit with a red silk shell under it. Lois Lane had spent the last five years fighting her way out of the basement of The Daily Planet after one too many times of having her stories turned into tabloid trash at The Inquisitor. When Clark had left town unexpectedly Lois had become somewhat despondent and threw herself entirely into her work to compensate for being left in the lurch. In five years she went from writing obituaries to being one of the paper’s top investigative reporters. Chloe knew that whenever a story fell through for her cousin that Lois had a way of beating herself senseless and continually worried about being demoted.

“I’m sure that Mr. White will understand. I mean it’s not like every story he ever chased down always amounted to something,” Chloe consoled.

“Maybe, but I’ve been on a bad streak lately, Chloe. I need a big story, otherwise, I expect that my front page days are numbered,” Lois said, her hazel eyes filled with worry. Lois then glanced at the clock on her way and swore under her breath, “I gotta go, White’s expecting me. Talk later?”

“Sure, Lois,” Chloe said to her retreating back. When the door closed to the office, Chloe glanced at the sticky note that she hadn’t let go of from the moment she had discovered it on her desk when she came in this morning. She whispered, “Where are you, Clark?”

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