NOTES: This story is set in the alternate timeline/universe that was introduced in season 2 episode 12, A Brave New Metropolis. The ideas of that alternate timeline intrigued me; a world where Superman took over the country, but came to regret his actions and relinquished power. I was left wondering what might happen next. How does he make up for what he did? How does the country recover? How does this affect public perception of powered people/aliens? How does this affect the formation of the Justice League? Does the Justice League become a thing in this world? If it does, is Superman even a part of it? Can people forgive him for what he's done? My goal is to deal with these questions and explore the fallout in this world.

MORE NOTES: While other heroes will eventually make appearances in this story, I'm running with the idea that Batman and Flash were the only other active heroes at the time that Superman/Luthor took over. Also, this will be a slow paced story. While there will eventually be supervillains and big fights, this is ultimately a story about forgiveness, redemption, and healing. It's going to take time. Another note, because I know this is sometimes a big deal for people, this will eventually be a Clark/OC story.

Hope y'all enjoy this story; if you do, please let me know!

Prologue

or

After the Fall

Clark had convinced himself that he was doing the right thing. He'd convinced himself that he was doing this for Lois, for the citizens he'd sworn to protect. He'd insisted that it was the for the best. That it was the only way to make sure he never failed anyone else the way he'd failed Lois.

He told himself it was the only way when he first spoke to Lex Luthor. He told himself it was the only way when he announced his intentions to the public. He told himself it was the only way when Batman and Flash tried to stop him. He told himself it was the only way when the military tried to stop him. He told himself it was the only way when the people tried to rebel against him.

The only way.

Of course, it wasn't. Not really. And if he'd been half the man he'd thought he was, half the man he'd been trying to be, Clark would have seen that from the start. It wouldn't have taken a Lois from an alternate universe to show him just how far he'd fallen. It shouldn't have taken her to make him see how deep Luthor's corruption ran.

I should have known.

He should have been able to see how wrong he was. He should have been aware of everything Luthor was up to. Clark had been arrogant enough to think that fear of Superman would keep Luthor in check.

I should have known.

And the worst of it was that Clark could have known. It wasn't that hard to find evidence that Luthor was taking things farther than Clark had ever intended. He'd just needed to look, but he hadn't. He hadn't truly wanted to know. Because if he knew what Luthor was really doing, what Clark had allowed him to do, then Clark would really have to face the extent of what he'd done.

I betrayed everyone.

He'd betrayed the people he'd sworn to protect. He'd betrayed his parents, and the ideals they'd tried so hard to instill in him. Betrayed his friends, betrayed his country. Betrayed the trust people had placed in him.

There was no way to fix everything he'd done. Lives had inevitably been lost, much as Clark had tried to avoid it. Things could never truly be the way they'd been before. But some things…there were some things that could be repaired.

Clark stared at the monitors in the prison's main security room. He hadn't known about Luthor imprisoning citizens for even the most token of resistance against their rule, but Clark had known about this prison. He'd helped build it. Its population consisted entirely of former US politicians and military leaders, including the president that Clark had deposed in his takeover.

This isn't much. But it's a start.

He pressed the button that opened everyone's cell. He watched as confused men and women moved out in the halls, listened to their confused chatter as they tried to understand what was going on.

Clark pressed the button for the intercom. "This is Superman."

They froze or flinched at the sound of his voice, and there was a dull ache in Clark's chest. Once, his words had inspired people.

I earned this.

"I have decided to step down," he told them. "You are all free to go."

He wanted to add an apology to his message. He wanted to beg for their forgiveness. But he knew they wouldn't give it to him, and he knew he didn't deserve it anyway, so Clark kept that part to himself, and flew away. He had another prison to get to.

This prison was housed out in the Atlantic Ocean. Clark had also helped build this one, and it had taken more time and difficulty than the first one. It only housed two prisoners, but these two had come closest to stopping him.

There was no central way to unlock the cells. He'd have to take the elevator down to the main level and open the cells manually. A precaution against someone trying to rescue them, and one that Clark now regretted. He didn't want to face them after all he'd done.

The elevator opened, and he could see into both cells, and the prisoners inside could see him. Bruce Wayne and Wally West.

Batman and Flash.

Clark wished they'd succeeded when they'd tried to stop him.

"Well, if it isn't the mighty savior, Superman," Wally said, strolling up to the window of his cell. "We didn't even have to try and escape for you to visit this time."

The words were barbed, but not nearly as much as Clark deserved. It said something about Wally's character that even after all that had happened, after all Clark had done, Wally still didn't have it in him to be truly cruel.

"I'm here to release you both," Clark said. Both men looked startled, but Bruce recovered his wits first.

"Why?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Because I'm stepping down," Clark said. "I've already released the political prisoners. This is the next step."

"And what's your buddy Luthor got to say about this?" Wally asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Luthor is dead."

Wally's jaw dropped, but this time Bruce didn't look surprised at all. Maybe he'd already figured out that Luthor was probably dead if Clark was doing this.

Clark almost explained what had happened, almost told them that he hadn't actually been trying to kill Luthor, he'd died because he'd been trying to escape, not because of anything Clark had done. Clark held the words back. It didn't really matter if he wasn't the cause of Luthor's death, did it? Not when he'd killed so many other villains that he'd decided were too dangerous to let live.

He was ready to be done with this conversation, so he moved to the door of Bruce's cell and punched in the code that would open it. The door slid open, and Clark didn't move from the doorway. Bruce didn't move either, his gaze watchful and wary. Clark thought about their last fight, about the trap that Bruce and Wally had pulled off that had almost worked.

Clark tossed the small box he'd brought with him to Bruce, who caught it easily. "That'll give you a way to stop me, if you ever need to."

They shouldn't need to. Clark didn't think he'd ever make a choice like this again. But once he'd never thought he'd be capable of a lot of the things he'd done in the past few years. Clark didn't want to take the risk that he was wrong.

Bruce flipped open the lid, and a pale green light shone from the box. Even from this distance, Clark could feel the effects, could feel the kryptonite buzzing at him, sapping the strength from his limbs. He almost expected Bruce to go ahead and use the kryptonite. He wouldn't blame him if he did. Bruce had no reason to believe his words after all. No reason to trust that Clark was really walking away, that he wouldn't change his mind. He'd proved he was as big a threat to the world as his naysayers had always feared he would be.

Bruce glanced back up from the box, and snapped the lid closed. Clark's throat tightened. Bruce's capacity for mercy was so much more than Clark deserved.

"My name is Clark Kent. I expect that will be enough for the two of you to keep an eye on me."

Clark had guarded his identity with even more care once he'd decided to take the country than he had when he'd first started as Superman. He'd known what he was doing would make him even more enemies, and he hadn't wanted anyone to go after his parents to get to him. But he decided he could trust Bruce and Wally with this information. He was certain that when they found his parents, they wouldn't do anything to them.

Clark turned away and went to Wally's cell, opening his door too. Wally didn't even try to hide the suspicion on his face as he watched Clark. "Just what are you planning to do now?"

He paused. Clark hadn't really given any thought to his next step. He'd known he needed to do something to try and set things right, and this was the obvious thing to do. After this though, he wasn't sure what he could – or what he should – do.

"I'm going home," he decided.

Clark turned on his heel and went to the elevator. He'd have preferred to just fly away, but the main level was under the ocean, so. But he stopped right before he got on.

"I know this doesn't mean anything." He didn't turn around when he spoke. He couldn't bring himself to look at them while he spoke these words, but the words refused to stay unsaid. "But I am sorry. For everything."

They didn't say anything. Clark hadn't expected them too.

Clark almost changed his mind several times while flying to Kansas. Once he actually changed direction and started heading for the Fortress of Solitude instead. He hadn't seen his parents in years, not since before he'd announced his intention of taking over the country.

He'd told his parents about his plans first. He hadn't wanted them to find out from the news.

Ma and Pa had tried to talk him out of it, and Clark had tried to make them see why he had to do it. The conversation had lasted all day, and by the end of it they'd realized there was nothing they could say to stop him. He could still picture the looks of devastation on their faces. But it had been devastation tempered with resolve.

"We will not support you in this, son. Not now, not ever."

He'd been hurt and angry, and as committed to his chosen path as they'd been to theirs. So he'd flown away and hadn't been back to see them since.

Clark couldn't imagine how they'd react to him showing up now. They might very well tell him to leave. They might say he was no longer their son. They were well within their rights to reject him; hadn't he rejected every ideal they'd taught him? Betrayed everything that mattered to them?

He didn't deserve their forgiveness. But out of everyone, his parents deserved an apology, and Clark was going to give it to them.

It was late when he arrived, carefully landing in the grass off the back porch. Despite the late hour, he knew they were still up. Clark could hear them in the living room, watching the news. There were already confused reports about what was going on, and if he was truly gone.

Slowly, Clark walked up the steps. Once, he wouldn't have hesitated to just walk in. Now, he did. He wasn't sure he'd be welcome.

Not a good idea to stay out here in costume though. The last thing Ma and Pa needed was for someone to spot Superman at their home. He tried the handle and found the door was unlocked.

They must have heard the door opening, because they were out of their recliners when Clark made it to the living room. They froze at the sight of him, and Clark stopped in the doorway, at a loss for words. For a minute, they just stared, and Clark noticed the little changes in them. They both had a little more gray in their hair, more lines around their eyes. He thought Pa had lost weight.

"Oh, Clark."

His mother's words were soft, and at the sound of her voice, something in Clark crumpled. He sank to his knees, the weight of all he'd done, all his sins, bearing down on him. He closed his eyes, but tears spilled over anyway. "I'm sorry," he choked out.

The words were wholly inadequate. They couldn't fix what he'd done, couldn't help any of the people that he'd hurt. But they were all Clark had to offer as he bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

This was the part where they should tell him to leave. They should tell him that what he'd done was unforgivable, that he was no longer their son.

They didn't.

They rushed to him instead, dropping to their knees beside him and wrapping their arms around him. Ma pressed kisses to his cheek.

"You're back, Clark," Pa said, his voice husky. "Right now, that's all that matters. You're back."