As the old red farm truck ambled back from town, Clark smiled behind the wheel. It had been a good day. The sun was beginning to sink in the summer sky, and the birds sang their sweet songs as they always had. Cows mooed by the roadside as he drove by, and he playfully lowed back to them, smiling as he did so. The local radio station's broadcast came tinnily through the truck's speakers. Clark held the theory that one could always tell just how far one was from "civilization" by the ages of the songs played on the pop station – the wider the range of years, the further into the boondocks you were.

And it continues to hold, he thought with a smile as the sounds of The Killers segued into classic Bruce Springsteen. Clark tapped his hand against the side of the truck as his arm hung out the window, singing silently along to himself as he went.

Wendy, let me in

I wanna be your friend

I wanna guard your dreams and visions

Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims

And strap your hands 'cross my engine!

He always blushed a little inside at that line, but Clark kept singing.

I wanna know if love is wild, babe,

I wanna know if love is real!

Clark slowed the truck down to turn onto his road, forcing him to stop singing for just a second – but he made up for it by belting out his favorite lines of the song:

The highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last-chance power drive

Everybody's out on the run tonight but there's no place left to hide

Together Wendy we'll live with the sadness

I'll love you with all the madness in my soul

As Clark pulled up towards the house, his mother looked up from the tractor she had been working on. She smiled as her son stopped the truck but left it on to hear the last of a song, the love for which had been, for some reason unknown even to her, one of the things she was happiest she had passed on to her child. Oblivious to her, he cried out the last line of the tune.

But till then, tramps like us, baby we were born to run!

"Having fun?" Martha asked, causing Clark to whirl in surprise. Embarrassed, he shut off the truck's ignition as his blood ran to his cheeks.

"What's for dinner?" he asked, trying to move the conversation into friendlier territory.

"Your father's roasting steaks on the grill," Martha replied as she watched her son effortlessly heft half a dozen fifty-pound bags out of the Dodge's bed. "You want a hand with those?"

Clark smiled, a smile he rarely got to use anymore. It was his Thanks-for-asking-but-I-have-superpowers-remember? smile. "I can handle it." As he walked the bags off to the barn, Martha could only watch her son as pride flowed through her like a drug. Clark had turned out a thousand times better than she ever would have hoped to dream that October day when his spaceship had fallen out of the sky. Despite every obstacle the world had thrown in his way, he had managed to leap over them and still keep a smile on his face in the end. Even his problems with Lana's death had managed to resolve themselves in the three weeks since he came back. Martha knew her son well; she knew that the feelings, the emotions were still there, but every day since he had returned had managed to heal him a little more. She also knew that the memory of her son lying on the table, unimaginable emotions he had kept bottled up inside him spilling out, would be one she would remember for the rest of her life. In one sense, it was frightening, as Martha had realized at that moment that this might be all her son needed her for anymore.

On the other hand, it meant that he still needed her.

"I never should have doubted you," came her husband's voice from behind her. She didn't even turn around, but smiled anyway.

"We did a good job, raising him right," Martha said.

The two watched their son for a long moment as their dog Shelby ran up to him, ball in his mouth as if trying to get his attention. He grabbed the ball from the retriever and threw it down the drive, causing the dog to leap after it in hot pursuit. For a minute, everything was just as it should be – just like things had once been.

But, deep down inside, Martha knew they couldn't stay that way forever.

Her husband looked at her. "I'm gonna go start dinner."

Clark dropped his fork onto the empty plate with a clink of finality. His mother glanced over at his plate as she always had, and saw – as she always did – that he hadn't finished up his string beans. Martha silently shook her head as she turned back to the last of her steak. Behind his glass of milk, Clark smiled. Some things never change. At least she gave him the courtesy of not chiding him on it anymore. After all, he was twenty years old – in his mind, more than old enough to decide not to eat his vegetables if he didn't want to. So, when his father looked across the table at the beans inquisitively, Clark silently handed his plate over. Clark could all but hear his mother's thoughts: At least one of them is eating them.

As his parents finished up, Clark's eyes wandered off towards the horizon past the barn. From the porch (Clark's personal favorite eating spot when it was summertime) one could see Route 12 a half-mile away off to the left easily, the trucks barreling down it. Off to the other side sat the forest, a thick group of trees that served as the eastern border of the Kent farm. Clark had spent may a day frolicking in them when he was younger, playing games with Pete; cowboys and Indians, cops and robbers, nearly every game imaginable. But my favorite was always space explorers.

This, of course, provoked a smile.

"So, Clark," came his father's voice from the other end of the table. Clark turned to see his dad had polished off the green beans. "Have you given any thought to what you're going to do now?"

They've been waiting to ask this question for a while, he thought as he noted the expressions on his parents' faces.

"Well, I figured I'd take the dishes inside, help Mom wash them up, bring the cows inside for the night and watch a little TV. I don't want to miss Stowe again." While normally Clark loathed the WB network's programming, the well-written show about a group of high schoolers had struck a chord with him from the first time he saw it. "I gotta say, I don't like these new characters they introduced last season. I wish they still had on the original four – those guys were good."

"Well, they went on to college, and the writers clearly didn't want the show to go that direction," Martha said. The show was sort of a family affair in the Kent house. "Have you thought about going back to school?"

Touché, Mom. Clark had deferred a year after his freshman year at Metropolis University due to the events that had sent him across the world. "Yeah, I have. That's pretty much what I've been planning on doing at the end of the summer."

"Are you sure you'll be ready?" Her son's well-being always came first to Martha.

He nodded, and his voice took on a more somber tone. "I think so. Besides, it's time for me to move on, get back on track with my life. It's what Lana would have wanted me to do."

Clark felt his mother's reassuring touch on his hand. He glanced up to see her looking at him with pride flowing from her eyes. "We knew you'd end up doing the right thing, Clark. And that is what she would have wanted – you to be happy."

Clark smiled at them as he reminded himself yet again what wonderful parents he had. "It's funny, you know. Before any of this happened, I was happy just living my normal life – hanging out with my friends, being here with you on the farm, and occasionally leaping in the way of a speeding bullet or two. But when I was out going across the world…I was happy there, too. Being able to use my powers without worry of being recognized, and really being able to help people. Not just knocking out kryptonite freaks and keeping drunken kids behind the wheel from killing somebody. I didn't realize it at the time, but…it felt good to be that person. It felt like I was finally doing something with these gifts, instead of just bailing hay. But I don't want to lose what I already have."

Jonathan and Martha Kent had nothing to say in response. For a long minute, Clark's words hung in the air as they all thought about what he had said. Finally, Jonathan broke the reverie.

"Well…maybe there's a way you could be both."