DC One

Man of Tomorrow

Arc 1 – New Start (1)

I never imagined I'd come home to such a spectacle. People I barely knew and others I could hardly remember were cheering my name, giving their thanks and praise. A few even cried tears of joy. I was grateful… but it was all a lie…

"Did you make it home okay?" an enchanting voice spoke over the phone.

"Yeah, the flight was okay. It was the landing that startled me. I wasn't expecting-"

"A parade," the woman laughed, cutting the man off and causing him to blush.

"Wait, you knew; why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd try to avoid it. You've never been the type to bask in the glory, I figured you deserved it."

"I guess," he returned, every bit the skeptic. "So when does your flight take off? I can't wait to see you."

"I… I should be in the air later tonight. You know there's a 6 hour time difference."

There was a brief pause where neither spoke.

"Hey, Lana—

"Clark," she interrupted, "something just came up. I'll call you back before my flight leaves, okay."

"Yeah… okay." He answered, hanging up his phone.

Clark stood on the ledge of the towering skyscraper staring out at the vast city where he could see and hear everyone therein. Even in its deepest corner, where a fraction of the near 3 million populous crowded the streets, he could pinpoint a single face and voice when he concentrated. Though his sense of smell wasn't nearly as keen, he could almost pick up the woman's scent in the air; something he recalled from his memories.

Peering into the distance, the gifted young man saw a gorgeous woman, 24, with auburn hair and green eyes. She smiled and laughed with a foreign man before sharing a passionate kiss together. The couple were interrupted by a gleeful child bearing a distinctive resemblance to them both. Clark had no doubt that the child was their daughter.

"Lana…" he whispered, gripping an engagement ring tightly in his hand. When he opened his fist only dust remained, flying away with the breeze.

"Monsieur, s'il vous plaît venez à partir de là. Il s'agit d'une zone d'accès restreint." Two guards yelled at the aloof Clark snapping him from his daze. He didn't bother turning around, already certain his presence on the Eiffel Tower's outer frames was the cause of their problem. "S'il vous plaît descendre avant de vous blesser."

"Thank you," Clark smiled, "but I'm actually going up."

"Monsieur, s'il vous plaît!"

Suddenly, Clark began to hover in the air astonishing the two guards. He moved further and further away, his speed gradually increasing leaving little more than a blur in his wake. The super-powered being, 25, had short, black hair and piercing blue eyes that maintained their purity even as a tear fell down his face. Rushing through the skies above Europe dried his tears and gave him a sense of relief; some way or another he was happy for Lana.

It had been nearly six years since he'd left Smallville but only three since he'd last seen Lana. That day she wept for him while he sulked in the shadows unable to confront her, to tell her the truth. Clark realized his optimism was childish yet he hoped Lana would always be there. Maybe he was right at one point. Now certain truths about his life were no longer true, such was the newly recurring theme in his life.

The freedom of flight granted Clark a certain ignorance to the world that's not easily acquired. The deep blue canvas of the Pacific was far behind him as the countryside of Smallville, Kansas came into the range. It was a beautiful sight but none of it thrilled him more than that of his own family's corn field leading toward his home in the distance.

Careful of any prying eyes, Clark dived into the corn stalks deciding to run the rest of the way. From the moment he'd returned to Smallville it seemed like people were overzealous with meeting him. 'The Hometown Hero Saved by Superman;' when he first came up with the idea he thought it'd be a perfect cover for his feigned death. However, he never expected the attention he'd actually gain from it.

"Mom!" he yelled, stopping his sprint in the back fields of the Kent Farm. He was eager to see at least one face that hadn't been manipulated by the media.

"Clark," she called, "I'm in the barn!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Clark had raced to his mother's side giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Hiding from something?"

"What!?" Martha responded, taken aback by her son's question. The dark, auburn haired woman, 43, dodged eye contact with her son as he zipped in front of her with lighting speed. Her hazel eyes spun around in circles trying to avoid him. "What do you mean?"

"Well the last time I confronted you about a secret you were hiding it in the barn. I just figured I'd give you a chance to tell me this time before I was killed," Clark smirked with his arms crossed, "again."

"Actually, hiding your ship in the barn was your father's idea," she jested, earning jilting glares from her son.

"Mom… Did you know about-?"

"Lana?" she cut him off. "I'm sorry, Clark; Lana insisted on telling you she wasn't coming back to Smallville herself. I just thought it was best I stayed out of it."

"You would think that with everything I'm able to do I'd be able to go back in time and maybe change things…"

"Don't you dare think like that," Martha scolded, "Lana is happy you're alive and so is your father. Neither one of them would forgive you for even considering the thought. That's not the man Lana loved or the man Johnathan raised."

"You're right. I'm sorry."

The mere mention of his father gave Clark goose bumps. It took a long time for either of them to begin speaking casually about him as he was a great father and husband. Martha felt especially burden by their son's heavy heart knowing Clark, if given the chance, could have saved Johnathan from terrorist that stole his life. Yet, if it weren't for Johnathan's noble death his son may not have been inspired to take a stand against injustice and joining the U.S. Army.

Within his two years of active service, Clark believed he was just another soldier fighting against terrorism. Martha, understandably, disapproved of her son's choice knowing the vendetta he carried with him. However, the newly adopted soldier gained more than he believed he would after lacing up his boots. Loyalty, guidance, friendship, hope… he never asked for it but he was grateful to receive them all from his brothers-in-arms.

"Clark," Martha hesitated, "I've been wondering what your plans are now that you're back home. I mean, you gave up five years of your life to fighting other people's wars. Perhaps it's time you rest. Connor would love to have his big brother here with us. And the Miller family could use help on the farm…"

"Mom, you're ranting," Clark laughed snatching Martha from her ramblings. "The only reason I saved myself from terrorists was to regain my life. General Lane has already offered me an honorable discharge from service. I just… don't know what Clark Kent has to offer the world."

"I, for one, never had a problem with just Clark Kent in my life," Martha stated convincingly.

"That'd be nice but… … … there are people out there still suffering and he can save them. I can save them."

"You're not Superman, Clark," she argued, "You're my son."

"But I'm not just your son."

Martha sighed, slightly discomforted by Clark's words. She was practically still a child when she and Johnathan met Lara, Clark's birth mother. To say the least, Lara was considered a strange fruit even amongst the wholesome people of Smallville. It was as if she'd been snatched from her own world and dropped into their own… rather it was by chance or fate was still unclear.

"You're right," Martha attested, "But Lara… your mother, never intended for you to live your life trying to conquer the world's problems. She wanted you to be a human." Martha stood face to face with Clark placing her hand on his chest. "Your mother's charm was a gift to her from your father. It was her only keepsake from your home world but also was an inhibitor for your powers."

"Kryptonite…" Clark whispered, remembering the blue crest of his birth father's family.

Three years ago, there wasn't a moment he didn't wear that charm around his neck. One day, during a routine reconnaissance, his squad was ambushed by insurgents. Most of his team was killed there; those who weren't were held prisoner to be tortured and then executed. When Clark's time had finally come, the enemy chose to make a mockery of him. They'd snatched the relic from the helpless soldier's neck before shattering it, along with Clark's hope. The warmth of the first and last bullet to ever pierce his skin remained fixed into his memory.

"And what if…" he continued, "…I were to have a family? Was a stupid blue stone supposed to keep my children from shooting heat beams at anyone that made them angry; or prevent someone's screams, fifty miles away, from pulling them out of their sleep?"

"Perhaps that's something you should ask her," Martha insisted, hopeful her son could find the answers he sought.

"I haven't been to the fortress since I first found out I was an alien. Everything she left behind, the history of Krypton, was too overwhelming."

Martha stepped away from her son knowing exactly what Johnathan might say to him were he there, though she was reluctant to say it herself, "You've grown into a strong man, Clark. It's the person you aspire to be that inspires others to be great."

Clark gave a knowing smile… one only a mother would recognize. It was accompanied by an equally familiar embrace which Martha was proud to receive. As it were, nothing else needed to be said between them and Clark had a new destination… The Fortress of Solitude…

A/N: For clarification purposes, Clark's charm was blue kryptonite and is the first form of kryptonite Clark is exposed to.

Also, if you enjoyed this story check out DC One: Dark Knight if you're a fan of Batman.