A/N: Sorry for the delay. I think my momentum was slowed by feeling a bit discouraged. Thanks for being here to continue reading - I hope you're enjoying the story. :)

Set in season 7. No Kara.

8: Blurred

The sun bloomed on the horizon, casting orange hues over the farmland. Martha watched from the kitchen window, clutching an empty mug. Even when her world was quiet and grey, the sky was beautiful. Hope shone in its vivid colours and light.

'Is it time?' Jonathan asked, returning from the barn.

Martha nodded. She retrieved the expensive laptop from its case and placed it on the counter. She didn't dare speak as it loaded up.

'I wish Lois explained what's going on, than just drop this off with a time and date,' Jonathan said. 'She barely tells us anything as it is.'

'I don't think we can fault Lois for her loyalty, Jonathan,' she said with a sad smile. 'I'm sure there's more than a few reasons why Clark trusts her the way he does. We have to respect that.'

It was a long month, waiting to understand the cryptic gift. Lois stayed at the farm to help Chloe with a local story, not mentioning anything about the laptop or its purpose until she'd packed to leave.

'What's it doing now?' He frowned at a revolving logo, as if the laptop might explode on them.

'It says it's establishing a secure network with Watchtower.' Martha trusted Lois' intentions, though in her heart she hoped the gift had something to do with Clark.

The screen went blank, replaced with a live video.

'Can you see me?' Clark asked.

Martha gasped, tears welling in her eyes. 'Yes. We see you, sweetheart.' She grinned.

'Clark, what's going on?' Jonathan asked, peering close.

'It was a surprise.' Their son smiled. The TV area was nearby, though the laptop faced opposite the rest of his apartment. 'I thought we could start a new tradition. There's someone who wants to talk to you.'

'Hi, Grandma. Hi, Grandpa.' Three-year-old Ethan jumped into view, wearing tractor-print pyjamas. 'Breakfast time.'

Clark placed a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice in front of Ethan, careful not to obscure the view. Then he left, despite his parents urging him to join them.

'Where your breakfast?' Ethan's expression scrunched as he stared close to the screen.

'Right here.' Martha snatched a muffin she'd baked earlier. 'Grandpa's getting our juice now.' She nudged Jonathan.

'Juice? Juice...' He rushed to the fridge.

'Juice is yummy.' Ethan glanced beyond their line of sight, waving at someone who left the apartment.

'Here we go. Fresh lemon... juice.' Jonathan poured two glasses of lemonade where their grandson could see. 'How are you, Ethan?'

'Good.' He dropped onto the floor. Clark scooped him back up, putting a couch cushion underneath so he could reach the coffee table and laptop. 'Thank you, Daddy.'

Martha shared a teary smile with Jonathan. It was the best gift Lois or Clark had given them - the chance to spend time with their grandson, without waiting for birthdays or certain holidays and the occasional phone call.

'Grandma, are you sad?' Ethan's eyebrows creased in deep concern.

'No, sweetheart.' She composed herself. 'I'm happy. Grandpa and I miss you.'

'I miss you too.' He smiled with all of Clark's charm and dimples.

'I will not be late on my first day because of you, Smallville,' Lois said in the background. 'Do you have the photos or not?'

'They're right where you left them last night before getting popcorn,' Clark said. 'And no one at the Daily Planet is expecting you for another two hours.'

'Daddy say you have cows.' Ethan ate his cereal. 'Are they nice and share milk with you?'

'Yeah, they're great cows.' Jonathan nodded, amused. 'We get plenty of milk.'

'I like milk, but juice better.' He wriggled on his cushion. 'We don't have cows though.'

Shelby barked, running to join them in the kitchen. He whined, unable to to see the screen yet could hear the three familiar voices of the Kents he missed. If Clark's bedroom door was left open, Shelby would still camp out there to guard it for their return.

'Lois, it's not my fault Chloe doesn't work there anymore...'

'Are you enjoying Metropolis?' Martha asked. 'It must be noisy there.'

Ethan shrugged. 'I goed on a pretend horse. Lois shotted a bottle, but I got the prize. It was a beetle. A squishy one, not like my other one that runs and breaks.'

'Hi, Mr and Mrs Kent. I hope you liked the surprise.' Lois crouched to wave at them, then brushed hair from Ethan's face. 'I have to go to work now, Junior. Be good.' She kissed his forehead.

He pouted, watching her leave.

'Where's your dad?' Martha asked.

It was always about Ethan.

She adored her grandson, but Clark remained distant and they knew nothing about his life now or his plans. Their updates came from Lois or Chloe, and even those were vague. They had to find out from the Daily Planet that a mysterious "Blur" sped around Metropolis saving people. They never asked, pretending not to notice. Like the completed farm chores and new tractor parts that often awaited them by rooster's crow.

'He whooshed.' Ethan shrugged. 'Grandma, do you have horses too?'

The ache faded while learning about Ethan's favourite things and various adventures he went on. For a moment, the farm wasn't the empty vastness it became since graduation.

Clark appeared. 'Ethan, go get dressed.'

'I'm talking to Grandma and Grandpa.' He huffed, arms crossed in a Lois-like way.

'You can say goodbye to them once you're dressed,' Clark said. 'We have to get going.'

'I'm going to Uncle Ollie?'

Clark nodded, lifting his son off the floor. Once the boy scurried off, he faced his parents.

Who was Ollie?

A glance at Jonathan confirmed he didn't recognise the name either.

'This was a wonderful gift. He's grown so much.' Martha took in her son's appearance, with his neat suit and matured features. 'Can we do this again soon?'

'That's the idea.' He nodded. 'Every few weeks, or maybe even once a week, you can spend this time with Ethan.'

'What about you, son?' Jonathan asked.

'I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet.'

... ~ ...

Lois crossed a street touched by the early rays of sun, one arm hugging a stack of files and her other hand clutched to the tiny grip of a child. Though three-years-old, Ethan was fast for his age and easily kept up with her high-heeled rush towards the 24-hour pharmacy. They passed a swirling aroma of coffee, which Lois remorsefully inhaled before nudging him into the store.

Away from the bustle of the city, she released his hand to peruse the allergy isle. Ethan knew to stay close, though crouched to peer at the colourful boxes of cough drops and syrups.

'Yeah, it was like a cold wind or something,' said a guy nearby. 'Put the fire right out.'

'Who do you think he is?' another asked.

'That's what I'd like to know,' Lois muttered, snatching nasal sprays from the shelf while keeping a grip on her files. She messily put them back.

Her day began and ended with the Blur. Stories and burned shields spread through Metropolis, and still she hadn't secured an exclusive interview with their once red-and-blue hero in the shadows.

'Lemon or peach?' Lois pointed to the cough syrups, which Ethan pulled faces at. 'Cherry it is.'

Ethan huffed as they waited in line behind a chatty woman at the counter. Yet he never complained. He was tall for three, and tolerant of tagging along on errands or sitting in someone's office for hours. Lois smiled, knowing that would change if she tickled his feet or mentioned ice cream.

'Move it along, lady. Some of us have work to get to,' Lois said. 'Go tell someone else about your five dogs, new petunias, and that wool coat you're dying to get. Frankly, it doesn't sound worth the investment.'

Ignoring the chatty woman's glare, she headed to the vacated counter. Ethan clutched it, trying to inch higher to see over. It'd be a few more years before he could do that.

'Your son is adorable,' said the cashier.

'He's not...' Lois inhaled a sharp breath, tired of the awkward looks when she tried to explain otherwise. She checked her watch, and readjusted her files. Then they were back among the bustling city.

It was a brisk walk to the Daily Planet, which she spent thinking up solutions to problems that didn't exist yet. They'd have made it to the doors, if not for the speeding cars smashing into a bus station further down the street.

The destructive crunch and scrap of metal prompted Ethan to lunge at her legs, almost knocking Lois clean off her feet.

Screams and unrest were warnings to some, but a luring temptation to any decent reporter. Ethan clung on. He was shaking, yet trusted her to keep him safe. She bit her lip. If a dog so much of barked in his direction, she was on defensive. Was she a horrible person for considering investigating a worthy story while he was in her care?

A roar of flames burst from one of vehicles. She ducked into the Daily Planet lobby, detaching Ethan to regain mobility. She stashed files and the pharmacy bag in a cubby, then hoisted Ethan into her arms.

Lois headed towards the danger, tapping Ethan's back to remind him not to choke her as he held on. She hugged him close, squashing any guilt for bringing him there, and fumbled for her phone.

The flames were out before they arrived. The cars and bus stop separated in the blink of an eye, and the injured occupants vanished. The Blur lived up to his name.

'Whoosh,' Ethan said, then waved at a nearby alley.

Lois turned in time to see a frightened cat fleeing a dustbin. She had photos to accompany the story, even if it wasn't the one she was most determined to write.

'Are they hurt?' Ethan worried, eyeing various bystanders who avoided the smoke or hurried from the scene.

'No, honey.' Lois rubbed his back. 'The Blur saved them.'

'What's the Blur?' He brushed hair from his face, turning to get a better view. His arm remained looped round her neck for reassurance.

'He's a hero. No, a superhero – like the Green Arrow.' She pointed out the shield burned on a brick wall. 'One day, I'm going to find out his story so the whole world can know how great the Blur is.'

'Can I help?' he asked with childlike wonder.

'Of course.' She hugged him. 'Our very own cub reporter.'

... ~ ...

'Lois Lane, Daily Planet,' she said, twirling the phone cord with her pen. She winced at the squeaking of the opposite desk chair. Ethan spun it round again – sprawled on his stomach with limbs hanging free.

Squeak. Squeak.

She hung up, gritting her teeth.

Searching for the next big story used to be a dull existence on slower days. Answering tip lines, compiling notes that were a waste of trees, and glaring at the clock she swore was slowing down. The Blur wasn't giving her an all-exclusive, but Lois took what headlines she could get.

Squeak.

She'd agreed to a weekly "Ethan day", expecting to hate the inconvenience of keeping track of a toddler while trying to work. She wondered how Oliver did it on a more regular basis. It turned out she didn't know Ethan as well as she'd thought.

Lois smiled at a drawing stuck to the side of her filing cabinet. It was a poor imitation of the Daily Planet's front page, but the young artist had carefully planned the blue and yellow crayon lines. He'd even copied the letters and her name, with a little help. "Bad Guys Stopped" wasn't the most efficient headline, but he got points for trying.

Squeak. Squeak.

Lois released a sharp breath. Then sometimes he got on her nerves as much as...

'Daddy, you're back.' Ethan launched himself from the chair which clattered loudly onto the floor. Unaware of the annoyed stares, he giggled as his father caught him mid-jump.

'Hey, buddy.' Clark grinned, hugging his son.

Lois focused on her notes. 'For being Oliver's delivery boy, I've never actually seen you deliver anything,' she said.

'Just because you can't see something, doesn't mean it's not there.' Clark righted the chair, and sat Ethan in it.

'Hey, I am totally on board with our new mystery hero.' Lois rolled her eyes, tossing him the pharmacy bag. 'I just don't understand why the Blur can't give me single quote. I don't even need to see his face. I mean, how hard is it really to make a simple phone call?' She huffed.

Clark gave her one of his cryptic looks, then peered into the bag.

Squeak. Squeak.

'Chin up, Smallville.' Lois handed him an application. 'A spot opened up in the bullpen, and guess whose name is written all over it? Clark Kent.'

He chuckled, shaking his head. 'That's never gonna happen,' he said. 'If you excuse us, Ethan and I have a dinner delivery to make. Chloe's overworking herself again and Oliver's convinced that includes forgetting to eat.'

'Seriously, Clark, don't you think you're destined for greater things in life than being Ollie's errand boy?' She frowned, disappointed. 'Promise you'll think about your future, okay? It's not often that opportunity just gets handed to you.'

Clark sighed, accepting the application. 'I promise,' he said with every ounce of reluctance.

... ~ ...

'I think it's a great idea,' Chloe said, busy copying data while Ethan clung to her middle in prolonged greeting.

'You do?' Clark frowned, glancing at the room. There were a lot of monitors, a couch, and a round table with few chairs. It was practical but unfinished. 'What is this place?'

'I don't know yet.' She shrugged. 'I've been using it as a safe space to help Oliver and the team, but beyond that I'm still figuring things out. Ouch, easy on the hug, kiddo. Remember our game with the balloons? Gentle squeeze.' She pat Ethan's back, surprised when he jerked away and sulked by the table.

'Don't take it personally.' Clark placed takeout bags on a counter free of keyboards or confidential documents. 'We just found out he doesn't do so well with fish.'

'Sushi's out too, huh?' She pouted, grabbing her phone to note it down. 'How does that even work? I get he's part human too, but surely his super-powered genes would have more perks? He has a lot of allergies for one little boy. I know we have a strict no hospitals rule, but what did Emil say?'

Ethan leaned against the table, peering at various superhero profiles – picking out the ones he recognised.

'He thinks Ethan's still adjusting to Earth's atmosphere and compositions,' Clark said, watching his frustrated son throw pens on the floor. 'Once his abilities come in, beyond strength and fast healing, everything else should probably settle.'

'Probably?'

'He's a human/Kryptonian hybrid, Chloe.' He removed things from the table before his son could push them off. 'It's not exactly familiar territory, even for Emil.'

'Right.' She sighed, shaking her head. 'What about Jor-El in that ice crystal palace or whatever? Maybe-'

Ethan banged on the table. It splintered and collapsed from the force of his small fists. Clark caught a chunk of wooden debris before it could hit Chloe, which startled her more than the crash.

'Ethan, you can't throw or hit things when you're angry.' He snatched a piece of wood Ethan was about to toss, fixing his three-year-old with a strict look. 'You could really hurt someone. You almost hurt Aunt Chloe.'

The boy stared wide-eyed, stiffening at his father's reaction. Clark was a firm but loving father. He'd never raised his voice to his son before or showed such disappointment in his actions.

Ethan glanced at Chloe. She recovered from her own surprise and donned a firm look as well.

He stared at the floor in shame. 'Sorry, Aunt Chloe,' Ethan mumbled. His eyes welled with tears, but he was silent. He walked to the sofa and climbed onto it, sitting with his head bowed and hands in his lap.

It was doubtful that he truly understood why he had to be so careful, but it was a start. It was also a turning point in their lives. Ethan was becoming aware of being different. There were rules that applied to him and not others.

'It's going to be okay.' Chloe saw Clark's apprehensive look. 'You know, if you really wanted some tips on how to raise a Kryptonian, don't you think you should ask the two people who are practically experts at that? Your parents?'

He shot her a reluctant look, emphasising it was still a topic he won't budge on.

'Okay, fine.' She raised hands in surrender. 'But this is all the more reason you should consider Lois' idea. It's the perfect cover. Say that Clark Kent, the unassuming journalist, buttoned up in a starched shirt and tie, but then, when he's playing the hero, he...'

'Steps out of the shadow with his crest and black suit, creating two completely separate identities?' He was skeptical, though struggled to disregard it.

'Yeah.' Chloe nodded, watching Ethan crawl off the sofa to pile large pieces of wood to one side. 'I think it'll be good for him too. Lead by example, right?' He already had the costume and the title of the "Blur". She and Oliver knew it could work, but the real challenge was convincing Clark of that.

He read over the Daily Planet application. 'Maybe,' Clark conceded. 'I promised Lois I'd think about it.'

'And we all know you'd never break a promise to Lois Lane,' Chloe said with a sly smile, which he ignored.