Martha Kent didn't argue with her son when he appeared on the porch in his Superman gear telling her that he was moving back home. She understood the grief he carried, as well as the burden of being Superman, especially a Superman that was feared by the public as he was right now. Offering him an understanding smile and hug, she sent him up to his room to change and told him she was making dinner. Clark smiled then headed up the stairs to his old room.

As his mother made chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans for dinner, Clark, wearing blue jeans and a white tee shirt, scanned the farm using his telescopic vision and started to make mental notes on what he needed to do, including finally planting corn in the unused north pasture that his father always wanted to use but never had the manpower or money to do it. He knew his mother was barely making money. Besides having to hire men to run the farm, she worked as a waitress in town and was unable to supervise those men. That would all stop now. The men could be let go and she could quit her job. He'd work the farm alone and run it better than it had been run since Jonathan Kent died. He'd run it as an organic farm, too, in order to get better prices for their crops.

"Clark," Martha called him from the kitchen knowing he hear her no matter where he was on the farm, "dinner time."

Clark smiled and headed into the house. He walked into the dining room and saw his mother putting a plate with food down at the head of the table for him along with a cold glass of milk. Clark smiled then sat down.

"I'll do the dishes," he said.

"Of course, you will. You were raised to do chores," she said.

Clark chuckled then he watched as his mother returned with her meal and ice tea then she bowed her head in prayer. A feeling of warmth spread through his body as he felt like he was truly home. The last few months he lived almost like a Kryptonian, but that wasn't home. This was. She raised her head and he tucked into his meal.

"This is delicious. I always miss your cooking," he said.

"You don't eat well in your Fortress in the Antarctic?" she asked.

"Well most of the food that I keep in stasis is sandwiches, except for the meals that you give me after my weekend visits," he smiled.

"Clark Joseph Kent, I taught you how to cook. You can do better than sandwiches," she said.

Clark grinned then replied: "I know, ma. I spent most of my time learning everything I could about Krypton, the House of El, and other worlds. I guess I got lazy."

"You don't intend on leaving earth, Clark, do you?" she asked with apprehension. The thought of losing her son pained her.

"No, ma. I'm not leaving. It's home, even if the people of earth don't want me right now, it's the only home I know. Part of the reason I did it was to see if I could find somewhere else for Kara. She came here as a teen not a baby. She's still having a hard time fitting in on earth and she's especially having a hard time with relationship. I was raised to control my strength and abilities all the time. She slips up. Thank God so far she hasn't hurt anyone," he explained.

"Did you find somewhere better for her than here to live?" she asked.

"I think so, but we have to talk. I know that part of her doesn't want to leave the head of the House of El. She was told to protect me by her father. I think she feels obligated to stay and protect me," he told her. "We definitely have to talk."

"She's a good girl. I'll miss her if she leaves earth for another planet," said Martha.

"I will, too. But I want her happy," he said.

"And you. What about you being happy, Clark?" his mother asked.

"Being here with you, working the farm, that makes me happy for now, ma," he smiled.

"Don't lie to your mother," Martha countered.

"I'm not lying to you. I need this right now. I don't know for how long this will satisfy me, but I really need it right now," Clark admitted to his mother.

Martha looked at her son. Tears started to fill her eyes. She wiped them away and said: "This is your home and always will be, son."

"Thanks, ma," Clark smiled.

"Eat up. I have...," Martha started to say but Clark sniffed the air.

"Blueberry pie for dessert," he grinned.

"Show off," she laughed.

"Never," he replied.

JLJLJL

If Bruce knew one thing, it was that he couldn't leave Clark on his own for too long. He had to remind him that he was needed and that he was missed, even if the senate and congress still called for Superman to appear before them, as if they were his keeper. Bruce also knew that Clark needed to hear about what was happening with the Justice League. Princess Diana and Dinah Lance were named co-chairs and had been doing a excellent job in running the league, yet it wasn't the same without Superman. Bruce was a long range thinker, though, which meant he saw all the problems of having Superman on the sidelines under certain circumstances, not the least one being a return of Darkseid, which he expected to happen eventually.

Though, he hated to be away from Gotham for any length of time, Bruce called on Dick to oversee the city and Damian for a few days, while he traveled to Smallville and visited Clark. Tim was busy with the Titans. His expectations were low in terms of convincing Clark to leave the farm and rejoin the fight, but he had to keep being the annoying bee in Clark's ear.

Landing at a private airfield in Smallville, Bruce's Gulfstream G 550 landed and a black Maserati Quattrporte was waiting for him. He waited as his two pieces of luggage were put in the trunk by someone then he got into his car and raced off to Clark's place. Bruce knew Martha would embrace his visit, probably even be delighted at the fact that a friend visited Clark. Not on this visit but maybe in the future he'd get Martha on his side to convince Clark to rejoin the world.

After spending weeks getting the farm in shape making repairs, tending fields and animals, fixing the barn, and more, Clark was ready for new tasks. Starting first thing in the morning, Clark prepped, plowed, and planted in the north pastures finishing it up, when he heard the hum of Bruce's Maserati. Without even bothering to look, he knew it had to be Bruce, as who else in Smallville would be driving such an expensive luxury car. Using his speed, he zipped back to the farmhouse and waited on the porch for Bruce to arrive. He wasn't disappointed as Bruce's slick car came to a stop in front of the porch and Bruce, dressed in chinos, a chambray shirt, a black blazer, and Italian loafers, got out of the car. The handsome billionaire looked out of place on a farm.

"Clark," he said as he looked at his friend dressed in dirty blue jeans, a dirty white tee shirt, and work boots, "you look like a farm boy."

"I am a farm boy, Bruce," smiled Clark. "Why are you here?"

"I came for a visit, thought you might need to see a friendly face," said Bruce.

"I see plenty of friendly faces when I go into Smallville," smirked Clark.

"Not one that knows you as well as I do," Bruce countered.

Martha Kent exited the house and smiled when she saw it was Bruce Wayne.

"Mr. Wayne, are you here for a visit?" she asked.

"I hope it isn't an inconvenience, Mrs. Kent," Bruce said.

"Of course not, Mr. Wayne," she said.

"It's Bruce not Mr. Wayne, Mrs. Kent," Bruce corrected her with a charming grin.

"Then it's Martha not Mrs. Kent, Bruce," smiled Martha.

"Martha," Bruce grinned. "I was hoping to spend at least one night."

"I'll get your bags, Bruce," said Clark, who walked down the porch steps and up to Bruce. "I hope you brought a pair of blue jeans."

"I did," smirked Bruce.

Clark whispered: "And you Batman gear, too?"

"You know me too well, Clark," said Bruce. "I have to be always prepared."

"Of course, you do," chuckled Clark. "Mind opening the trunk. I don't want to damage this beauty."

Bruce aimed the remote in his hands and pressed the button for the trunk to pop open. Clark grabbed the luggage and carried it into the house with Bruce following him.

"I'll start lunch. Clark bring Bruce's luggage up to the spare bedroom," she ordered.

"Yes, ma," said Clark as he headed up the stairs.

Bruce looked at Martha and asked: "How is he doing?"

"Better," she smiled sadly. "Misses Lois."

"Of course he does," said Bruce.

Martha headed into the kitchen, while Bruce waited for Clark in the living room. He sat down on the sofa and looked around the house. It was filled with photos of Jonathan, Martha, and Clark on the mantle piece of the fireplace, as well as family mementos such as Clark's high school diploma and college diploma on the walls. In comparison Wayne Manor was filled with artwork and heirlooms. Clark came down stairs. He sat down in a armchair and looked at Bruce.

"Do you want to lecture me now or can it wait until later?" Clark smiled.

"It can wait until after dinner, which I want to provide as a guest. Do you think your mother would like to go out tonight or should I go pick up something in town?" asked Bruce.

"She loves when I take her to Halley's Diner," answered Clark.

"Then we'll go to Halley's Diner tonight for dinner," said Bruce.

"You sure you can afford that, Bruce," smirked Clark.

"I can see your sense of humor has returned," sighed Bruce.

"You do have the market cornered on brooding, Bruce," Clark prodded him sarcastically.

"To think that I've missed you, Clark," sighed Bruce.

Clark laughed, which drew a smile from Bruce.

"I'm glad you came, Bruce," said Clark.

"Me, too, Kent," growled Bruce.

JLJLJLJL

Nightwing landed on the roof the warehouse across from where a ship was unloading a shipment of illegal weapons. Beside him was Damian Wayne, Bruce's illegitimate son with Talia al Ghul. He was fifteen years old, trained by the League of Assassins, and a know it all.

"We should rush them and take them out," Damian stated.

"We want to follow them to see who the buyer is, Damian," sighed Dick. "I've told you this three times already."

"Why are you in charge?" Damian asked.

"Because Bruce placed me in charge and you're a child," growled Dick.

Damian reached up and touched the katana he wore on his back.

"I could easily kill you," he threatened.

"You could easily annoy me," countered Dick.

Damian scowled at Dick, who ignored him. Dick knew that Damian was as much bite as he was bark, but he also knew that Damian actually liked him. Poor Tim Damian constantly verbally abused and tried to entice him into a fight. Fortunately, Tim was mature beyond his years.

"I fire a tracking device at the van once they load it up and drive it by us then we'll follow them on the Wingcycle until we know who the weapons are ending up with," Dick stated.

"Can I fire my tracker at them?" asked Damian.

"Okay, you can fire the tracker," sighed Dick.

"Good. Now we know that we won't miss," stated Damian in his best arrogant voice.

Dick shook his head in frustration but kept his mouth shut. He was tired of arguing with Damian. Suddenly, Dick smiled as he thought about how frustrated Bruce must get with Damian.

JLJLJL

It was eight fifteen when Bruce, Martha, and Clark arrived at Halley's Diner. They entered the diner. The diner only had a few people in it. Martha waved at one of the waitresses.

"Sit anywhere you want, Martha," said the waitress.

"Thanks, Sally," Martha replied then walked over to a booth and sat down. Clark sat beside her and Bruce sat across from them. Bruce grabbed the menus from their stand and handed them out. He looked the selection over.

"Any suggestion, Clark?" asked Bruce.

"The double cheeseburger with French fires always works for me. I also get a side of onion rings," smiled Clark.

Bruce sighed then looked at Martha for her suggestions.

"Bruce, it's diner food. It may not be great for you, but it is delicious. I think you'll like the meatloaf with mashed potatoes and choice of vegetable," suggested Martha.

"I'll get the meatloaf. Thank you, Martha," said Bruce.

"What do you want, ma?" asked Clark.

"The chili dog with French Fries and a vanilla milkshake," grinned Martha.

"Save room for a piece of either the lemon cream pie or banana cream pie. It's the best you'll ever have, homemade and perfect," Clark said.

"Pie?" Bruce glowered at Clark.

"The best you'll have. You'll want to bring a pie home for Alfred," grinned Clark.

"I'll try the pie," sighed Bruce.

JLJLJL

Dick sat at the large computer setup Bruce had in the Batcave. The tracker led them to Penguin's Nightclub, Iceberg Lounge. It appeared that Penguin was acting as the middleman, so the weapons were offloaded at the club and now where in Penguin's basement. Damian was practicing his sword work in the background, as Dick logged the information about the weapons and their location.

Suddenly, the elevator started and both of them looked over to see who it was. The doors opened and Zatanna exited. She was dressed in knee black boots, blue jeans, a black silk shirt, and white linen long coat.

"Hey, Zee," Dick smiled from his spot at the computers.

"Zatanna," mumbled Damian, who went back to practicing his sword work.

"Dick. Where's Bruce?" she asked, as she walked over to the computer setup.

"He's visiting Clark in Smallville. Bruce wants to make sure that Clark knows that he's missed by friends and that he'll eventually be missed by the people," stated Dick.

"Clark is living in Smallville," Zatanna said in surprise.

"Yup. He went home to the work the family farm. Clark lives with his mother and works the farm and that's it. I guess that's his way of dealing with Lois' death and the reaction to his killing of Grundy," Dick said as he spun his chair to face Zatanna.

Immediately, he noticed that she was biting her lower lip in thought. Dick let her think for a few moments before interrupting her.

"How can I help you, Zee?" he asked.

"I wanted to talk to Bruce about a few things, but that can wait," she said.

"You touring?" asked Dick.

"Just finished up yesterday. My last stop was Gotham. Now I have three months to waste. Since I'm not a member of the Justice League anymore, I wanted to see if he had anything he wanted me to do for him," she smiled then she thought about Smallville. She'd never been there. To be honest, she mainly went from major city to major city with the occasional stop at resort beaches. Maybe it was time to see what country life was like, and while there maybe she'd run into Clark Kent. She always meant to offer her condolences for his loss, as well as her tell him that she thought the Justice League was wrong.

Dick looked into her violet eyes and he knew she was holding something back. Having been trained by Bruce, Dick was excellent at reading people. Bruce insisted that being able to read people was an important tool in crime fighting. It allowed you to anticipate actions. But Dick wasn't going to push her. If she wanted to keep something back to talk about with Bruce then he'd let her.

"He'll probably be back tomorrow, Zee. I can't see Bruce staying in Smallville for more than one night. The crickets alone will drive him crazy," smiled Dick.

JLJLJL

Bruce hated to admit it but the meal was pretty good and the banana cream pie was the best he ever had. Before he flew back to Gotham he needed to buy one for Alfred and Damian to try. He pulled up to the Kent's farm and parked. Everyone got out. Martha saw Bruce and Clark hang back, smiled then walked up to Bruce and gave him a hug.

"Thank you for dinner, Bruce. I'm glad you came for a visit," she said. "Now, I'm going to take a hot bath, change into my PJ's and read a book before bed. Don't stay up too late."

"We won't, ma," smiled Clark.

Both men watched up walk up the steps and into the house. Clark faced Bruce.

"Time for the lecture?" he asked.

"Not so much a lecture, Clark, but a frank talk between friends," Bruce corrected him.

"Want to take a stroll while we talk?" asked Clark.

"Sure," said Bruce.

The two men started to walk towards the small vegetable garden that Martha kept. Bruce formulated a few points in his head then he started to speak.

"You might have been raised Clark Kent, but you were born Kal El and Kal El is destined for great things, Clark. Your Kryptonian parents sent you here not only to save you, but knowing you could be a beacon and a protector for earth. You can't stay on the farm forever," Bruce stated.

"I'm aware of that, Bruce. Jor El especially expected great things for me here on earth. But Clark Kent isn't ready to leave the farm just yet," Clark replied.

"How much longer do you intend to hide away here?" Bruce asked. "One month? Six months? A year?"

Clark grinned then he answered: "Definitely more than one month."

"What are you waiting for, Clark? Are you waiting for something to happen to world that proves they need you more than they should fear you?" pushed Bruce.

"Really, Bruce. Do you think that I'm that petty? You know me a little," snapped Clark.

"I know you, I think, better than a little, Clark. I know that it kills you to think that normal, everyday people now fear you. That must hurt you deeply. It's not because you want to be worshiped, but because you know that prolong fear will lead to a distrust that you might never be able to shake," stated Bruce. "I'm telling you that if you resumed being Superman that fear won't go away quickly, but it will over time. They might not know it, but the people need you. Ignore the senate and congress. They are looking for publicity and to give the impression that they are even more powerful than Superman. Do good works, like you always have done, and the people will stop fearing you and trust you again."

Clark stopped walking and looked up into the sky. Bruce noticed that he started to float off the ground. He always said that flying was important to Clark. It seemed to give him a sense of freedom. Clark returned to the ground.

"In many ways I know you're right, Bruce, but I'm just not ready yet. I'm just not ready," sighed Clark. "I wasn't there to save Lois and then I lost my temper and purposely ended Grundy's existence. God, Bruce, I wanted to kill him and I did. I got no satisfaction from it, yet I can't say I wouldn't do it again. People fearing me does hurts deeply and makes me realize just how alone and separate from the people I share this planet with, this planet I consider my home."

"You're not alone. You have friends, Clark. I'm one of them," Bruce told him.

"I know but...," Clark paused. "Lois was the first time I felt I might have a chance at real fulfilling relationship. Relationships have been so hard for me because of so many reasons, but with Lois it felt as if she and I could overcome all the obstacles that were in our way. I doubt I'll ever find that again."

Bruce didn't know what to say. His relationships didn't fail because if he lost control he could kill the person he was with by accident or the fact that because of invulnerability he could barely feel the touch and kiss of the one he loved. No, Bruce's relationships failed because he put the mission ahead of them. He had nothing to share on this.

Placing his right hand on his friend's left shoulder, Bruce said: "Clark, I truly am sorry for what happened to Lois. If I was there you know I would have given my life to protect her."

Clark looked into his friend's dark blue eyes, as tears burned around the edges of his eyes.

"I know you would have, Bruce," Clark said softly.

"Don't give up on us, Clark," smiled Bruce. "The people of this planet need you."

"I'll keep that in mind, Bruce."

JLJLJL

Bruce packed his bag in the morning, enjoyed a big breakfast cooked by Martha then headed back to Gotham. Clark understood that his friend couldn't stay away from his city for long. Bruce had his mission. It was his obsession; it was his life.

Clark got to work on the farm. As always he kept his glasses with him, just in case of visitors who didn't know who he was. Today, he wanted to get his chores done then fix up the barn. Besides some chickens and the odd roster or two, his mother had stopped keeping animals on the farm. He thought about adding some pigs and maybe even a few cows for milking. Given a day or two he could expand the barn including four or five stalls for cows.

Working at half the speed he'll usually worked at because he had the farm working efficiently, Clark suddenly stopped his work. His hearing picked up an SOS coming from a pivate plane in distress. Some birds had taken out one of their engines and the other engine was starting to fail. Clark closed his eyes. He couldn't let the people I the plane die, or, maybe even crash land on one of his neighbors places.

"Clark, do this, but do it at so fast that no one can make you out," he said to himself.

Rocketing off the ground, he sped towards the distress plane. Catching up with it quickly, he flew undernearth the plane, grabbed hold of it, and started guiding the plane down towards the private airport that Bruce's plane landed at it. Setting the plane down on a free runway, he took off at a speed that made him no more than a blur and headed back to the farm.

Shocked that they found themselves on the ground, the pilot, co-pilot, and four passengers got off the plane. Emergency responders arrived by the plane and immediately checked the passengers and the plane.

"How the hell did you land this thing?" asked a responder of the pilot.

"I didn't. It landed itself," the pilot replied.

"Hey, look at this," another responder called. The pilot and the other man joined him under the body of the plane. What they found shocked them. Two large hand prints were embedded in bottom of the plane, as if someone had been supporting the plane and guided it to safety.

"Shit," said the reponder.

"Do you think...," the pilot started to ask then stopped himself.

"Wow," said the other responder.