Ch 2 - Recrudesce
-- Smallville - March 2010 --
Five years ago he'd stood in this exact same spot. The sight of the yellow farmhouse in front of him brought a lump to his throat. He didn't think it had changed one bit— and that was absolutely fine with him.
He picked up the large duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. Over the years, he had learned to keep his possessions light and few. He hadn't spoken to his parents in over… wow, almost an entire year. They had no idea that he was coming home. He'd been sending them postcards, letters, and short emails when he could, but the calls had been few and far between, especially when the choice centered on food or the cost of an international call. They had grown accustomed to gaps of time passing between their communications. This last gap was longer than usual, but he'd thought they would be happier to see him than to get another short update.
He felt guilty about it. The longer he was away, the easier it became to get caught up in his new life. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to them— he just rarely knew what to say. Their questions had reminded him that he was nowhere closer to figuring everything out than he was on the day he left.
Clark frowned as the handle to the front door refused to turn. When had they started locking the doors? He decided to stash his bag in the loft.
He was selfishly satisfied to see that it hadn't changed. It was clean and dust free, but everything was in the place he had last left it. He patted the pocket of his jacket where the stone was encased in its pouch. He was due a visit to the caves.
Getting inside the caves was a bit trickier than it had been before. The powers that be seemed to be resolute on keeping leisure seekers out of the protected historical site. As far as he could tell, it was closed off completely. He wondered how long it would be before the caves became a tourist attraction, charging admission to support the claims of upkeep. He would have to think about what he could do to make sure that didn't happen.
He accessed the secret chamber without trouble and walked to the platform that held the other two crystals. Shaking the third stone from the pouch, he imagined what it would be like once it was inserted to its place among the rest. With a deep breath of anticipation he placed it into the depression.
Nothing happened.
Frowning, he took a closer look. The stones did not meet up. It was apparent that they should, for in many areas their jagged edges fit together like a 3D jigsaw puzzle. The problem was the middle. There was a sliver missing, leaving a gaping notch in the heart of the monument.
Silently cursing, Clark remembered the piece of crystal that had been destroyed when Lionel and Lex had switched bodies. His eyes squeezed shut in frustration.
Five years. He'd traveled for five years to find the final key to the puzzle, only to not have it work. He'd wasted five years.
He backed slowly to the wall, turning to step out of the chamber when the rocks opened. Sighing, he turned to leave.
Martha reached for the handle to the rear door of the SUV and sighed. Leaning, she pulled out a bag of groceries and silently acknowledged the fact that she would have to come back for the rest. She had a purse and briefcase hanging from one shoulder, and balanced the bag in the other arm as she fiddled with her keys. She continued to do the one-handed jig as she climbed the steps of the porch.
She was going to have to get Jonathan to cook more often, she decided. When Lex Luthor had decided to divest his Smallville assets in preparation for his move to Metropolis, they had been lucky enough to make a successful bid for The Talon. She was now the proud owner and operator of the town's finest coffee house.
Smallville wasn't so small anymore, as the town had steadily grown over the past few years. The location of The Talon had put them in a prime position to benefit from the growth. They still had bill worries, but overall, they were comfortable.
As she reached the door, she reminded herself to drive out and take a look at the sign that reported the number of citizens one day. She could never keep up.
Martha gasped as she realized she wasn't alone. The creaking of the porch swing caught her attention, and she quickly turned, startled by the identity of her visitor.
Clark laughed and rushed to catch the bag just as his mother released it.
"Cl…Clark?"
"Hi, Mom."
She stood with her mouth gaping open as he gently took the keys from her and opened the door. She followed slowly behind him when he stepped inside and put the bag on the counter.
"Clark?" she asked again, her voice breaking with emotion as she came to terms with the fact that he was actually standing before her. She shook her head in wonderment as he gathered her in his arms.
When they parted, he pressed a kiss to her cheek and grinned. "I'm home."
Martha was still having trouble speaking. "I… see that. You didn't say… the last time we talked you were… Are you hungry?"
Clark laughed at the befuddled expression on his mother's face. "I'll go get the rest of the bags from the car."
Martha bustled around the kitchen, unsure of what to do first. Clark returned and helped her put the groceries away, then pulled a stool up to the kitchen island.
"Let me get you something, and then you can tell me what's been happening for the past— wow, it's been ten months hasn't it?"
Clark nodded. "Mom, sit down! You don't have to get me anything." He ducked his head when he received the look she sent him. "Okay, some of that pie would be great."
As his mother turned to cut a slice, he sat down. "I would have called, but I figured it would be better to just show up. Surprise!"
Martha set the plate down in front of him and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "A very good surprise."
He moved to lay his head against her chest for a moment before straightening and reaching for his fork.
"What's with the glasses? You're not having trouble with your eyes again are you?"
Taking a moment to savor the taste of his mother's apple pie, he merely shook his head and swallowed. "No. After a couple of close calls, I decided I needed a way to change my appearance."
"Close calls, Clark?" She gave him a worried look. "Someone saw you do something… odd?"
He shrugged sheepishly. "Not really. I've been careful. It's just a precaution. Mostly." He quickly shoved another forkful into his mouth. "Mmph, thsh good."
Martha frowned and stroked the side of his face. She would wait. After all, he'd have to tell it all again when Jonathan got home.
She went to pour him a glass of milk.
They heard a door slam, followed by heavy footsteps as they clomped up the stairs and across the porch.
"With all the fuss he puts up when we drop him off, you'd think he'd want to come home. I swear, that kid wouldn't get into the car if I didn't take the dog with me…" Jonathan's tirade faltered as he noticed there was someone else in the room. "Oh, sorry, honey. I didn't know we had company."
He walked over to kiss his wife and turned to face the young man.
"Clark?"
"Hey, Dad," he smiled, laughing as he was pulled into a fierce hug.
The sound of barking caught his attention.
"Shelby!" he exclaimed, glancing toward the door.
His expression showed confusion when high-pitched squeals of laughter sounded, followed by more barking. He stood and walked to the screen door.
A toddler with fair hair was wrestling with the good-natured pet. As the little boy grasped handfuls of fur at the dog's neck, he was being covered with sloppy kisses.
Clark turned back to face his parents, who were sharing a pointed look.
"Whose kid?"
Jonathan cleared his throat and motioned for Clark to return to the table.
Clark frowned and slowly made his way back to his parents, briefly turning to look at the child once more.
"What is it?" he asked, realizing that his parents were hesitating.
Martha reached out and took his hand. "He's Lois's."
Clark's heart twisted painfully in his chest. She hadn't waited for him after all. Not that he'd thought that she would. It's just… he hadn't thought that she wouldn't.
His teeth clenched as he tried to smile. He moved back to the door, gazing out at the little boy. He was gorgeous.
Lois. In his dreams, things had turned out differently. After seeing his parents, the first thing he had planned on doing was going to find her. Guess he was too late.
But here was her son… at his parent's house. Which meant she would be back soon.
"Where is Lois?" he asked, trying to sound upbeat.
Martha stepped up beside him, smiling at the scene outside. "We don't know," she answered sadly.
Alarmed, he turned to face her. "What do you mean, you don't know?"
Martha looked at him with a pained expression on her face; then turned to look at her husband. Clark followed suit, his eyes wide with questions.
Jonathan sighed. "Nobody does."
tbc
