Chapter Text
It was five minutes before closing time when Clark arrived outside Vicky May’s. He’d taken the back road into town without a hint of superspeed, hoping the slow walk would clear his head - but the echoes of his son’s callous words refused to budge.
"I didn’t forget… I just didn’t care."
Clark barely recognised his son in that moment, and the resulting fight had been one of the worst of his life. He tried to simply cool off after sending Jordan up to his room, pushing his anxious thoughts to one side and returning his attention to his wife. She’d been putting on a brave face all day, but she was obviously just as worried as he was. Not only had their impulsive son just revealed his existence to the world, but they’d also had news that Luthor had been released from prison, secretly, some hours earlier.
As if they weren’t dealing with enough to push any normal family over the edge, with Lois’ battle with cancer dominating all of their lives for most of this last year: now the man they’d helped put away for almost two decades was out there somewhere, with who knows what kind of revenge on his mind.
It really was just the perfect addition to this relentless pile on of a year.
Clark tried to focus on Lois’ words as she bounced ideas of who they could contact and how they could prepare for what might come next. He listened to her spit-balling strategies for each unfolding crisis - something that would usually have twitched the corner of his mouth into a half smile as he marvelled at her brilliant mind - but try as he might, he found he just couldn’t keep his attention on the topic at hand, his mind drifting off to replay his fight with Jordan over and over.
As always, his wife could see the struggle written all over his face; she could read him like a well-worn, dog-eared book.
Instead of confronting him or trying to get him to talk about it before he was ready, she stood up, wandering over to the almost empty box of herbal tea on the counter and exaggerating the discovery of its nearly depleted contents.
"Hey, do you think you could get me some more from Vicky May’s?" she suggested with a raised eyebrow.
He hesitated briefly, trying to work out whether accepting her loosely disguised invitation to take some time felt too much like running away.
"Look, there’s nothing more we can do right now anyway," she said, stroking a reassuring hand down his arm. "It’s a beautiful night out. Why don’t you just take a walk into town? It might do you some good."
"What if Luthor…" he tried to argue, but she was one step ahead of him, holding up her ELT and giving it a wiggle. "Besides, my dad’s right here. We’ll be fine, Clark. It’s not like he’s just going to rock up at our farm in Smallville."
He raised his own eyebrow back at her for saying something that felt an awful lot like tempting fate, before kissing her softly on the lips. "Fine. Just… call me if he does."
As soon as he stepped foot outside, the cool Kansas air washed over him, calming his still shaken nerves, and he knew his wife had been right.
She was always right.
He strolled out onto the dirt road, sinking into the grounding presence of the silent farmland around him; every step shaking off another bit of his pent up energy. The light from the moon and the stars was so bright that he could easily see the path ahead without any super-vision required.
He lifted his head up to gaze all around him at the brilliant night sky, unlike anything that was visible from Metropolis; no light pollution and no skyscrapers blocking the startlingly clear view of a universe stretching out endlessly into the black.
So many nights he’d stared up at that sky, wondering where he was from, how he’d made it to earth. Once his parent’s had shown him his ship and he’d seen the very alien way it responded to his touch, he’d know his home was pretty far away from Smallville. The very sun that tingled his skin, making him stronger and stronger each day, was likely not even the same sun he was born under.
And yet, it was home.
The only home he’d ever known.
Training with Jor-El at the fortress had taught him a lot about his Kryptonian culture, and he tried to respect and honor his people’s memory every day; but the experiences he’d had right here in Smallville, the way his parent’s raised him - that was what had made him into the man he was today.
By that logic, didn’t that mean Jordan’s attitude was, at least in part, his fault?
Clark tried so hard not to dwell on the past, but he knew not being around enough when the boys were young had impacted them both. Maybe more than they’d wanted to admit. They’d known it wasn’t going to be easy, but they’d been naïvely optimistic. As cynical as he often was, in some ways, Sam had been right.
Every day he found himself grappling with his split responsibilities, trying to make impossible decisions in the moment between spending time with his children and saving people's lives. It seemed no matter what he chose, he was usually left feeling some sense of guilt.
Sometimes he’d managed to find a good balance. They had plenty of happy family memories, and the boys knew they were loved by both of their parents – but by the time they’d moved to Smallville, he could tell there was a lot he needed to make up for.
Clark thought back to Jordan’s defiant outburst earlier that evening. The way his son had spoken to him. The way he’d hit out, using his super strength to bat away his father’s hand.
Where was all this anger coming from?
Obviously, he’d had a lot to deal with this year with Lois’ cancer. The stress and worry of not knowing whether their mom was going to survive had hit both boys in unpredictable ways. He had to admit, he’d been blindsided by his own reaction at times too.
Jordan had clearly been struggling socially again this year. He seemed to be spending most of his time obsessing about Sarah, finding it hard to figure out his place in Smallville outside of their relationship.
Clark had hoped training him at the fortress and taking him out on saves, would give him a boost of confidence. Show him the kind of man that he could be, the kind of impact he could have on the world; but he had to admit, he had noticed Jordan becoming a little… cocky lately. He’d brushed it off, thinking it was just a phase, that he could be trusted not to do anything stupid.
He’d never expected his son to be so selfish.
And what for? Some reckless pursuit of superficial attention? This wasn’t just some celebrity fad he could indulge in to get followers on social media. Exposing himself as a superhero came with some real risks – not just to their family’s secret, but also to his physical safety. Clark knew from years of experience; superheroes tended to attract enemies.
His anger surged again, just as he reached the diner, but he needed to push it aside. At least for five minutes, while he bought Lois' tea.
As he entered, the little bell above the door rang out, alerting the familiar waitress. Sarah lifted her head at the sound of the unexpected, last minute customer, pausing mid way through wiping down the counter.
"Oh, hey Mr Kent!" she said, shaking off her initially startled expression.
"Hey Sarah, how are you?"
"Oh, you know… living the dream," she said, rolling her eyes as she lifted the cloth suggestively.
"Probably beats clearing manure out of horse stables," Clark countered, thinking back to his own first job at the Millner’s farm.
Her nose wrinkled in response. "Um yeah, I think I’ll stick to dirty dishes. What can I do for you?"
"Uh, just came to grab a pack of that herbal tea, if you have it?"
"Oh sure, the stuff Mrs Lane likes? Vicky got in a whole bunch extra, she wanted to make sure we didn’t run out."
Clark smiled genuinely at the small kindness. They’d had many offers of help and anonymous gifts showing up at their door throughout Lois’ treatment, reinforcing just how thankful he was they’d taken the leap and moved back to Smallville when they did.
"That’s so thoughtful," Clark said sincerely. "Please thank her for me."
"Sure thing, Mr Kent," Sarah said as she rang it up for him, placing it in a carrier bag and handing it to him over the counter. "Glad to hear she’s doing better by the way. And… how’s Jordan doing?"
She looked down awkwardly, seemingly trying to pass the question off as casual.
Clark knew things had been fraught between her and his son, especially since the car crash. It was yet another thing he knew he needed to have a real conversation with him about.
"He’s… working through some stuff," Clark offered carefully.
She simply nodded, biting her lip for a moment before looking at the clock on the diner wall.
"Well, I’ve gotta lock up now. If I don’t get home before ten, my mom sends out a search party these days," she said in a light tone, but Clark knew that probably wasn’t far from the truth.
"You okay getting home?" Clark asked, and she nodded gratefully.
"Dad’s picking me up."
Right on time, Clark heard the toot of a car horn outside, and turned to see Kyle pulling up across the street. Sarah grabbed her coat and bag from the hook behind her and switched off the remaining lights before making her way around the counter.
She looked up at him, biting her lip like she wanted to say something.
"What is it?" Clark encouraged.
"It’s just… don’t go too hard on Jordan, okay?"
Clark widened his eyes in surprise. He hadn’t expected Sarah to be taking his side after everything that had happened.
"Don’t get me wrong, he’s been a total jackass lately… but I don’t think what he did after the tornado is what it looks like," she explained. "There’s no way Jordan really wants to be famous. He hates being the centre of attention. I just think he’s confused, you know? I think all the stuff he can do, all the things he can hear… it’s a lot."
"He talked to you about this?" Clark asked curiously.
"Um, no, not exactly…" Sarah replied, looking down like she was trying to find the right words. "But I know he hears people getting hurt sometimes and he just has to… turn it off, you know? It’s gotta be hard just sitting on the sidelines, knowing you can do more to help."
Clark simply nodded, processing what she'd shared. He did know, all too well. He understood what it was like to feel the twisting guilt of turning a blind ear to a constant background of distress. To the frustration building up towards all the parts of his life holding him back from being able to do anything about it. In fact, he’d lost his temper at his own mother, right around Jordan’s age. Just before he’d made the journey into the arctic, looking for answers his son already had.
"Thanks Sarah," he said gratefully, holding the door open for her and then stepping aside as she locked it behind them. "You know, you’re a really good friend."
She rolled her eyes again and scoughed, "Pfft, yeah… tell that to Jordan."
Clark gave her a sympathetic smile before they were interrupted by another toot of that impatient car horn. He looked up to see Kyle waving at him in that overly eager way he’d been doing ever since he’d told him about his alter ego. He really hoped that would stop some time soon.
"Okay, I gotta go. Goodnight, Mr Kent!" she said as she dashed across the street.
Clark watched as they drove away, finding himself once again alone in the small-town high street but feeling much calmer than he had before. He was still angry and dissapointed in Jordan's behaviour... but Sarah's insight had reminded him just how unusual what he was going through was.
There really was no handbook for this.
He turned and walked back down the street, considering whether to walk home the way he came or just fly back now. Just as he made the decision to duck into the alley next to the diner for a stealthy take off, a sound from within its shadows caught his attention.
"Hello?"
He resisted the urge to use his X-ray vision as he peered into the darkness. He didn’t make a habit out of intruding on someone’s privacy unless there was definite danger, so he simply listened to what any normal person could hear and took a few steps into the alley. As he did, the sound became clearer. Someone was softly sobbing in the alleyway, clearly in some sort of distress.
"Hey, are you okay there?" he tried again. "Do you need any help?"
There was no response, but the muffled whimpers got even louder.
Something about this felt really strange. In fact, his instincts were picking up some sense of danger. Silent alarm bells were ringing in his mind, telling Clark to walk away; but he couldn’t just leave this person without making sure they were at least safe.
Ignoring the internal warning signs, he headed further into the alley, leaving the warm light of the streetlamp behind as he stepped into the darkness.
***
Lois checked her laptop for the millionth time that night, hitting refresh on the numerous tabs she had open. Between news about Jordan’s public appearance and what seemed to be a total lack of news about Luthor’s whereabouts, she couldn’t help but feel compelled to try and catch any updates as soon as they happened.
They needed to be prepared, in both cases, for what was coming next.
"If he's not gonna stop using his powers, you need to keep him busy doing something else," her dad said, handing her a cup of herbal tea.
There were actually 3 boxes of the stuff under the kitchen counter, but Clark didn’t need to know that. He’d needed some time to calm down, and she knew he was too stubborn to just leave without her giving him some kind of mission.
Lois sighed at her dad’s pointed expression.
She knew he was just trying to help, but his idea of good parenting and hers were very different things. Sure, she and Clark were going to have to talk to him, figure out what was really going on; but just keeping busy wasn’t the answer. In fact, the boys growing up with such busy parents and busy lives might well be part of the issue. The whole point of moving to Smallville was to slow things down. To give the boys space to be able to figure all this stuff out.
"The more we push back, the more he's gonna defy us," she replied, "He's just at that stage right now."
Sam hesitated briefly, opening his mouth like he was about to say something… and then decided against it.
"Lex ever show up at LuthorCorp?" her dad asked instead, changing the subject to the less loaded of the day’s threats to their lives.
"Doesn't look like it," she said, clicking refresh one more time for good measure. "Does the DOD have any idea where he went?"
Sam was just shaking his head in an obviously concerned ‘no’, when they were surprised by a knock on the front door. Lois looked up at her dad warily, wondering who’d be stopping by at this time of night? Especially lately, with Lois’ cancer treatment; everybody knew not to disturb them so late. Not that they got that many unexpected visitors as it was.
Sam held out his hand and placed a finger over his mouth as he stood up. He walked quietly over to the window, peeking out through the curtain to see who was out on the porch.
His face dropped immediately.
"It’s Luthor," he whispered in disbelief as he returned.
Lois just stared at him for a second, considering her earlier conversation with Clark, and almost laughing at the ballsiness of it. She fondled the ELT in her pocket, considering whether to use it. Surely he wouldn’t be stupid enough to actually cause them any harm, by his own hand, on the day he was released from prison? Besides, the sonic boom of Clark arriving suddenly might cause more problems than it solved.
No, she would call him if anything happened, but she and her dad could handle Luthor for now.
"Well… I was going to have to face him at some point," Lois said with a sigh. "Guess now is as good a time as any."
She was impressed by her dad’s restraint as he managed to hold back his obvious desire to argue with her. Instead, he fell by her side protectively as she opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.
"Been a long time."
The monster she had spent so long trying to forget, was standing on her front porch, looking at her with that unnerving mix of confidence and cruelty. It turned her stomach.
"I see you managed to keep your release a secret," Lois replied evenly.
She was going to keep things civil. If he wanted to do this dance, she knew the neccesary moves.
"Warden Ellis made a few calls. Helps having powerful friends," he said, like it was nothing.
Lois made a mental note to look into the warden as soon as she could. She’d heard rumours that Lex was getting special treatment in jail, but she hadn’t known where it was coming from or exactly whose strings he was pulling. Who knows why the warden had been helping him. Maybe he was simply crooked, open to taking bribes; or maybe he was terrified and under threat, like so many other people Lex had strong armed into working for him back in the day.
He strolled across the porch and leaned on the railing, looking out into the dark fields thoughtfully. Lois hated seeing him so casually walking about her property, like he was some kind of long lost friend, free to make himself at home.
"Farm out in the country? Not what I expected from you. A lot's changed since I went away," he observed, turning back around to face her. "You got pregnant, had kids. Twins are what, 16 now?"
He placed his hands in his pockets like it was just a casual conversation, just two old friends catching up about their lives. Lois hoped the look she gave him made it clear they were far from it.
"You and I are not discussing my children," she replied firmly, trying to keep her cool but not willing to let Lex think he could walk all over her.
"What about your cancer? Is that off-limits too?" he retorted coldly, and she felt the muscles in her neck and jaw clench.
Her battle with cancer had forced her to face the most humbling level of vulnerability she’d ever known. It enraged her to see him playing around with that, shoving it in her face like he’d clearly enjoyed hearing about her brush with death from behind bars.
She felt her dad tense up beside her.
"My doctors are optimistic," she said between pursed lips.
"Funny how that worked," he continued with his little mind games. "You got sick, and your cancer led you to Bruno Mannheim's wife, and my acquittal. I should be grateful."
"For what part, exactly?"
"You should have listened to me in the first place," he said softly, giving off on an air of victimhood. "I always said I was innocent."
"The evidence at the time didn't support your story," she replied matter-of-factly.
"I guess times have changed."
"What do you want?" she asked, allowing her impatience to show.
She never was very good at beating around the bush, and after everything she’d been through that year… she was just anxious to get this psychopath off her porch without anyone getting hurt.
Her finger lingered over the red button on the ELT in her pocket, the urge to have her husband by her side increasing with every passing moment she had to be in the man’s presence.
It was just like Pia had said.
Being around him was like being in the presence of the devil.