CHAPTER 26

"This was a mistake," Lois Lane said as she got up from the table.

She grabbed her purse and tossed a few dollars down for the coffee, walking out of the diner and into the bright sunshine.

"Jeez. Is it ever not sunny in Smallville?" she asked no one and everyone.

She climbed into the rented car and checked her watch before pulling away. 11:45. Still a chance to get lost before SHE showed up.

Lana Lang.

What had she been thinking?

Lois had arrived in Smallville several days ago. She had checked into the local inn, paid upfront for a week, and had set about the task of exploring the small town where Clark Kent had grown up.

It was not going well.

The problem was she knew absolutely nothing about Clark's life here, aside from the major details like where he went to school and church, etc.

Just facts. Cold empty facts. Nothing of meaning.

She realized she could have picked any random small town in the country and had the exact same experience. Felt just as out of place and disconnected to the man she had loved and lost.

It would have been different if Clark had come with her, the pang in her heart confirmed. If he had been the one showing her around town, telling stories about his life, every tree and street corner would have been infused with substance and purpose.

… this is where my Pa took me to get haircuts. Ha, this one time the scissors broke…

… this is where I learned I could see through things…

… this is where I met Lana…

Lois cursed herself.

She had been desperate. Desperate for some kind of closure.

So she had called the only person on Earth who might understand what she was going through. With Clark's parents dead, that left only one person.

Clark's childhood crush, Lana Lang.

Like herself, and Jimmy and anyone who spent any serious length of time in Clark's presence, Lana had gone on to do amazing things. It was almost as if Clark had power and majesty to spare, so much so that everyone he touched was elevated, mythological in their own right.

Lana ran the Isis Foundation, a group which not only worked to rehabilitate super-criminals, but which also tried to help the growing number of teenagers who had begun developing superpowers, seemingly spontaneously, get a handle on their lives and use their powers for good.

Again, it seemed like the longer Superman was in the world, the more the world changed to resemble him. In truth, it was probably the constant exposure to alien bacteria, time travellers and mystical energies that swam through Metropolis on any given day that had given rise to these kids.

And Lana Lang, someone who had a lot of experience working with teenagers struggling to master awesome powers and destinies, had taken it upon herself to care for and teach them.

Lois and Lana had made plans to meet up at the Diner and then drive down to the one place Lois had been avoiding this whole time.

The Kent Farm.

Lana had spent more time with Clark as a child than anyone, except maybe for Lex Luthor.

"Dammit!" Lois kicked herself with a smile.

I should have asked Lex to come along instead of Lana, she laughed. How's that for a story, me and Lex Luthor trolling around Smallville reminiscing about Clark.

The smile slowly faded from her face as she approached the Kent Farm.

Maybe Lex would have come, she thought sadly.

The house was exactly as she had pictured it in her mind. Like something out of Norman Rockwell. The quintessential American farm house.

Again, everything in Clark's life was mythology.

She got out of the car and climbed the porch steps.

The place smelled like Clark. How was that possible? Was her mind playing tricks on her?

The front door was locked. Of course. She thought for a moment about picking it, but it seemed somehow wrong. Like violating sacred ground.

"I have keys," a voice said behind her.

Lois turned to see Lana Lang standing on the other side of the porch.

"How did you…?"

"You might not want to admit it, Lois, but I know you pretty well."

Lois tried to think of a snappy comeback, but her mind was blank. Dammit, she thought. What is it about this woman I find so… intimidating?

She was beautiful to be sure. Flaming red hair, perfect skin, the ultimate farmer's daughter. But it was something else. Deep down, Lois knew this might be the only woman on the planet Clark had ever loved. And that thought killed her inside.

This might be the only woman who knew Clark Kent better than she did.

"What was he like?" Lois asked at last.

"Excuse me?" Lana replied.

"As a kid, what was he like? I knew him as an adult. But he kept… so much from me. So many different sides. But what was he like before all that?"

Lois fought back the hot tears she could feel welling up in her eyes.

"Was he happy? Was he shy? Did he always carry that… weight around with him? Did he always know who he would have to be one day? Was there ever a time when he was just… a boy?"

Lana looked down and smiled.

"I don't think I knew him any better than you did, Lois. I don't think anyone did. He always had secrets. Always kept things to himself. But if there was one thing I knew about Clark that maybe no one else did, it was this. He was always… waiting."

"For what?"

"I think," Lana smiled, "for you."

The sound of a dog barking cut through the afternoon air, just then.

The pair turned to see a small white dog running towards them from the barn, yelping all the way.

"Local dog?" Lois asked as she wiped away a tear, trying to compose herself.

"Never seen him before," Lana said.

The dog stopped just short of the porch steps and stared at them. He barked once more and then turned around and headed back for the barn. Halfway, he stopped and looked back at the women. Waiting.

"I think he wants us to follow him," Lana offered.

Lois and Lana walked slowly behind the dog and followed him into the barn.

"The door's open," Lana said. "That shouldn't be."

"Hello?" Lois called out, her voice echoing through the empty structure. "Is anybody here?"

"Hello?" a young voice called out from above them.

"No," Lana whispered. "It couldn't be…"

She bolted up the steps, followed by Lois and the dog.

There he was, a young man, sitting half-way out the window, gazing out at the fields of wheat and sunshine.

He wore jeans with a black t-shirt, and old working boots that seemed a size or two too large, covered in the same color dust and dirt as the rest of the barn.

Lois understood Lana's reaction. She recognized the boy as well, from the old photo of the Kent family in Clark's apartment.

"Clark?" Lois asked.

"Actually," the boy smiled pleasantly, "I think I prefer the name Superboy."