Epilogue.
The Kent family sat on the couch, sock feet on the coffee table warmed by the blazing fire in the fireplace, watching old Dukes of Hazzard reruns.
"I remember watching this when I was…well not much older than you, Clark," Jonathan commented around a mouth full of popcorn.
As the credits rolled, Clark gazed into the fire. "I was always trying to save you…" he said quietly. "Those visions in that tank…" he furthered.
Jonathan and Martha looked to their son hunkered between them.
"I was powerless. I couldn't protect you."
"Clark," Martha spoke quietly, putting her arm around her boy. "You are not our protector."
"We're the parents, Clark. You are our responsibility...for a few more years at least," Jonathan tossed a few popcorn pieces at him.
Clark leaned his head against his mother's. Closing his eyes, he relished the warmth and security of having his parents beside him. Things didn't feel so different anymore.
"Clark, you're going to be late," Martha called up the stairs.
Clark slowly clumped down the stairs. He was dressed in jeans, white t-shirt, and blue plaid flannel. "I'm ready," he sighed.
"I thought you were excited about going." Martha set a plate of eggs and toast on the bar for him.
"I am, I just…" he fiddled with his food. "I'm sure the rumors have been flying and I'm going to have to face all of those. All those people with their judgments and pity…"
Martha smiled sweetly, patted his hand, "You'll do fine."
"Clark," Jonathan shouted from the yard. "Bus us here."
Sighing, Clark grabbed his toast, kissed his mom and ran out the door. "Bye, Dad," he called passing him at a jog.
Jonathan walked into the kitchen, where Martha was washing the breakfast dishes. He came up behind her wrapping his arms around her middle. She leaned back into him with a contented sigh.
"He's going to be fine, right?" she asked quietly.
Jonathan took a deep breath before answering, "He'll never forget what he has been through. He is changed because of it. But he can learn from it, learn to live with it."
Lex looked around the destroyed room. Glass crackled under his feet as he made his way over to the Porsche. The car was a mangled wreck…more than normal. It looked as if it had been run over by a tank.
Lex stood pondering the car, thumb and forefinger rubbing his chin. 'What is you secret, Clark?'
THE END
Thanks for the incredible reviews. Have a blessed day!