Disclaimer:I don't own Smallville, or any of its characters. Or Tom Welling. But I do own the rambles below. Because I wrote them.

A/N: My very first Smallville fic! You may want to know that this fic is based off of Exodus and Exile, the last episode of Season Two, and the first episode of Season Three. Its angsty and a little heart breaking enough to make you go D'aaaaaw. So read. And review. Or review. And read.

She didn't blame Clark for the baby.

She didn't care what he had done. She didn't care if he was in any way responsible. She didn't care if he wasn't her son by blood. He was still her son, and he had been from the first day she laid eyes on that little face. It didn't matter if he wasn't a normal boy- if he had super speed or X-ray vision or the ability to bench press the tractor. None of that mattered to her. She loved him with all her heart. She would do anything for him.

When he would wake himself up screaming, she would carry him to her and Jonathan's bed, cuddling and humming to him until the tears dried on his cheeks and he fell asleep knowing he was safe. On his first day of school, he refused to go without her because he insisted she would be gone when he got home. But everyday when he barreled through the door she was ready for him to jump into her arms. Once she had discovered what the meteor rocks did to him, she and Jonathan had scoured the farm to remove every single green rock. Jonathan always told her she was spoiling him. She didn't care. She finally had a little face, a little person to take care of. No matter how old he got, he would always be her baby boy.

"Jonathan… where's Clark?" she asked, freshly empty of tears and lying pale against the pillows.

"He's…" Jonathan went quiet. "Martha…."

"Martha… Clark lied about the voice. He did hear Jor-EL again."

"Jonathan he was probably nervous. Wouldn't you be, if your biological father suddenly started sending you messages?"

"Martha, you don't understand! He destroyed the ship."

"He did what?"

"Clark destroyed the ship. He stole a kryptonite key from Lionel Luthor… and he… he… put it in the ship…Martha… that's why the truck flipped over. That's why you're here…"

"He's not responsible."

"Martha-"

"He's not responsible Jonathan! What did you do? What did you tell him? Did you blame him for the baby?"

"No! I told him actions have con-"

"Dear God Jonathan! I lost one baby… I am not going to lose another! How could you? You know how guilty he gets!" Martha frantically pushed away the white sheets and set her pale feet on the cold floor.

Jonathan grabbed her elbow and then tried to push her back onto the pillows. "Martha…"

"No Jonathan! I have to go… I have to make sure he's alright…that he doesn't blame himself…"

"You need to rest Martha!"

"I need to see my son!"

"I'm sorry Mr. and Mrs. Kent… I hope I'm not interrupting…"

Lana Lang stood in the doorway, pale and eyes red rimmed. "Lana…" Martha breathed as she took in the sight of her sons high school crush. "What's wrong?"

Lana nervously pushed a strand of black hair behind her ear and stared down at her feet. "It's Clark. He's… gone."

Martha felt like she was riding a roller coaster. Her heart dropped down to her feet. "What?"

"I tried to stop him…" Lana looked up at the ceiling and rubbed at her eyes sniffling. "But… he just left on his motorcycle. He was in shock. I came… and the storm cellar was blown to smithereens… and he said everything was his fault. That… all… all he does is bring pain and suffering to everyone he loves…and that… that I should stay away from him before he hurts me too…"

Martha glared at Jonathan through her tears. She didn't really blame her husband… but he shouldn't have pushed Clark away. Only Jonathan looked truly guilty. No she didn't blame him. Everything was just going wrong.

She missed her son. She missed everything about him. His smile…his laugh… his mischievous teasing… She missed hugging him. He always smelled so good. Like apples… and hay… and sometimes flowers when he came back from the Talon. Lately she made the mistake of making two sandwiches- a turkey and cheese for Jonathan… and a ham and cheese for…for Clark. Then she would remember that Clark wasn't there to eat it- to scarf it down like he always did after his chores. He always claimed that he was starving. Always wanted to know what was for breakfast, lunch, and dinner- and when could he have a snack in-between. And Jonathan never said anything when she made the mistake of calling for him to get his lazy behind up and ready for school…or when she asked Jonathan to go drag him away from the loft for dinner. It's funny the habits you never realize you get into…until they're no longer necessary.

He had been gone for three months and she didn't think she could last another day without her boy. She could only hope Jonathan could manage to bring him back. The pain was becoming unbearable. And the sleepless nights when her cheeks were stained with hot tears didn't go unnoticed by her husband.

She kept glancing at the phone. She hoped Jonathan would call soon… that anyone would call. If only to set her mind at ease- or at least drag her away from her thoughts. She almost didn't hear the door opening. But she did hear the familiar clomping of boots and for a moment she thought she was going crazy.

But there he was. Tall…blue flannel clad and thinner then she remembered. He probably hadn't eaten much. She wanted to change that.

"Clark."

"Mom."

"Oh, Clark!" She rushed into his arms. She just prayed it wasn't her imagination. That she wouldn't open her eyes and he would be gone. But she could smell him. She could feel him. Her emotions took no time in taking over. God… she had missed him so much.

"Mom." He said again, and she could feel his relieved grin.

"I am so sorry, Mom, for everything. For the baby-"

"We never blamed you."

She put her hands on cheeks and stroked that familiar hair. He was real… he was back. And she never wanted to let him go again.