My son. You do not remember me.

Twelve years he was gone, most spent in the Fortress, at last learning who he was. He saw his natural father and his natural mother; he heard their voices. He had not been abandoned. He had been saved. The last son of Krypton.

He was taken across galaxies, across time, discovering secrets of the universe that would remain hidden to humans for thousands of years to come.

Live as one of them, Kal-el. Discover where you strength and your power are needed. But always hold in your heart the pride of your special heritage.

He returned to Kansas. Martha looked up one day to see him standing on the porch, beyond the screen door. She rose slowly as he stepped inside. The she ran to him, threw her arms around him.

"Clark!"

He held her, hiding his surprise at how she had aged, for somehow the time that had passed seemed like the blink of an eye to him now. And that surprise was nothing compared to the shock at realizing – he was no longer Clark.

He hid that from her as well, letting her feed him hearty meals and homemade pies, sleeping in his old bed. She asked him about his plans. He told her he would leave soon for Metropolis.

"And do what?" Martha asked.

"Everything that I can."

Martha could only watch this stranger in her son's body; she could only watch, just like when he was a child. But she wouldn't let it shake her. At every opportunity, she touched him, patting his shoulder, ruffling his hair, caressing his cheek with her mother's hand, and giving him big ole hugs every morning and night.

I don't care if you are from another planet, boy, she thought with a sidelong glance at his remote profile, you're going to know your Ma loves you. And that's that.

It took a few days, but a little warmth came back into his smile.

Martha made him visit with Pete and Lana too. The two of them had married three years back, and she thought it would do him good to see two old friends so happy.

They walked across the fields to the road back of the Kent farm, Lana and Pete full of stories about everyone they'd known in high school – who had stayed in Smallville, who had gone and where, funny stories, tragic stories, marriages, deaths, births. He listened, enjoying the nostalgic glow of the evening. He climbed up to sit on the fence just like he had so many other nights with these two. He'd picked a blade of wheat and he examined it with his fingers, the scent of earth and growing things filling him up. This was it. This was what he was meant to protect.

Lana had propped her chin on her crossed arms set on the fence's top slat. Pete climbed through to the other side and looked up to the stars coming out in the darkening sky. Then he turned to smile at Lana, putting his hand over one of hers. Her face lit with a soft light and she kissed his fingers lightly.

Yes, Kal-el thought, looking up at the endless velvet of space above these two people and their simple gesture of love, this is it.