[A/N: The last chapter. The home stretch. Sorry it took a while, but finally it's here. I felt the events don't flow the same way as the plot of the rest of the story, so it's split into four parts with an epilogue. (I can neither confirm or deny that I was influenced by the Snyder Cut) CW/TW: gun violence, domestic violence]

PART 1 - THE AFTERMATH

Martha had taken to reading in an effort to get her mind off the news. She'd been late to all the hubbub, but the catastrophe that began a thousand miles away in Metropolis made live national headlines quickly. Instead of dwelling on it, Martha turned off the television and sat on the couch with a large crime novel she'd gotten from the drug store. She knew herself too well; if given a chance to let her mind wander, she'd be overrun with worry.

Unfortunately, that proved to be unavoidable. Lana called her once she'd heard, very obviously out of sorts, and Martha did her best to calm her down. Clark was the only thing on the young redhead's mind. Martha hadn't seen anything about him on the news at the time, and told her as much. Until they heard something bad, Martha cautioned with the phrase "no news is good news." She wasn't sure it helped.

Now, Martha let out a sharp yell of surprise at the sudden intrusion of her son, who appeared in the space between her living room and kitchen looking as ragged as she'd ever seen him. His suit was full of dirt and dust and there was blood caked all over his face and hands. The state of him sent Martha into panicked shock. But worse was Clark's expression. His eyes told her he was anguished, exhausted, and most of all, lost.

Martha took the teleporter from him and pulled out a chair, but he shook his head absently.

"Can I take a shower?" His voice was barely a whisper, a shadow of breath.

Martha nodded silently, and he trudged past her and out of sight.

Almost an hour later, Clark returned wearing spare clothes that Martha kept for him in the apartment. He pulled a glass from the kitchen, filled it with water, and walked back to the living room where his mother sat waiting. She was stiff, sitting on the edge of the cushions. Clark held the glass in his hands but didn't drink.

"What happened?" Martha asked softly. She watched Clark take a deep, shaky breath.

A lot happened, but everything was over so quickly. Just that morning Martha had texted Lana well wishes for the expo, and now it was early evening. The sun hadn't set yet. An entire global phenomenon was unleashed and then thwarted in less than an average work day, and Clark had dealt with all of it firsthand. How could she even begin to comprehend that? Martha wanted to help shift the burden from his shoulders, but it was impossible.

Clark was so obviously not the same person he was yesterday, but she wanted him to know that the support he always had through her was still exactly the same. Clark stared at the glass but didn't seem to be seeing anything.

In a listless voice, he went through the events of the day. Meeting Lana at the expo. Kelex's alarm. The Kryptonian warship and the Phantom Zone prisoners. The automated devices. The glowing green rocks. The double-double-cross of Dev-Em. And finally the fight with Zod. Though Martha would've loved nothing more than to ease Clark's shock-induced detachment, all she could manage was stunned silence.

Clark sighed, then took a sip of water.

"What are you thinking?" asked Martha.

"After all of this...I don't want to have anything to do with Krypton," he said with a tired grimace. "I know I can't change what I am or where I came from. Everything that allows me to help people the way I can comes from being Kryptonian. But if I could take back that knowledge, I would."

Martha blinked, recoiling from his words. The callousness with which he voiced his hurt surprised her. She'd never known Clark to sound so jaded.

Months before, he came to her hoping to become something that would bring positive and lasting change to the world. Truly, the discovery of his origins had solidified his resolve. Martha surmised that it helped give Clark a clearer picture of what an alternate persona would look like. Why conjure up something when he could just channel the part of himself that, though hitherto unknown, had already existed? His uniform and the symbol he wore on his chest were Kryptonian, marks of his heritage. It was terrible to realize that the first major thing he had to do as this new figure was protect his home against the vestiges of that very culture. Martha could see the turmoil in her son's eyes. Most likely, he was even less sure of himself now than he had been before he'd saved that plane.

"I don't want to feel ungrateful," he continued. "I owe my life and everything I am in part to my biological family, their selflessness and their forethought. But...I can't see myself as one of them. I don't think I ever did. How can I fly around wearing a symbol of a culture I don't want to claim?"

Martha looked at Clark with sympathetic eyes, wondering what to say. Clark had come to her right after everything was over, but she was afraid she wouldn't be able to help him this time. Still, she took his hand in hers.

"You don't have to forgive and forget, and you don't have to renounce what you are either. You can't abide by what Krypton used to be, but you can take it and make it your own. Your family wore that symbol, right? I'd say you have the right to wear it too. No one else on Earth knows what it is, or what it means. They'll just think it's an 'S,' and eventually it'll be synonymous with you. I think it's worth keeping."

A sharp exhale came from her son, like he'd been holding his breath. He nodded.

"However you deal with what you're feeling, be careful," Martha warned. "It's not wrong to feel hurt or resentful, but don't let it fester into prejudice. You're better than that, and you have to be better than that." Clark nodded slowly with downcast eyes. "When you finally step into the spotlight, all of humanity will look to you. And after everything that happened today, you'll have to be almost perfect."

Clark gave a heavy sigh. "I know. Probably why I've been putting it off for so long."

"You still have me to lean on, and Lana too. I won't have my favorite son turning into some lonesome, dead-eyed, Clint Eastwood wannabe," she smirked. Clark raised an eyebrow.

"I'm your only son, last I checked."

Martha went to the kitchen. "Then you're automatically the favorite." She opened the freezer. "The shelter got a ton of Concretes with catering after the barbecue last week and there were some left over. Want one? They're from Sweetie's downtown, caddy corner from the library."

"Yes, ma'am," Clark said with a smile.

Soon they were digging into their treats. Clark's vanilla flavored one had crushed bits of chocolate in it, which he spooned into his mouth contentedly.

Martha pressed on.

"Listen, I'm serious. Don't let anybody harden your heart, you hear?"

Clark chuckled. "Okay, Ma."

"I mean that for yourself as well, not just for who the world needs. Life would be less for it, and I only want you to be happy."

"Okay, Ma."

"Me and your father always said that everyone'd be much better off if they all cared the way you do."

Clark's smile turned just a little bit sad. "You two always over-complimented me."

"It was always deserved," said Martha sincerely. "But I could insult you, if you like."

"No thanks."

The two continued to eat their ice cream. Martha fell into deep thought over the day's events, and wondered over the repercussions. The effects wouldn't be immediate, but life as they knew it would be very different in the coming months and years. She was getting old. The world had already changed so much in the last 20 years, and that had nothing to do with aliens or others with super powers. People her age still had trouble using a smartphone. What was going to come out of this ?

"I don't know what tomorrow will bring," she said, "but i know you'll be the one to lead us there. The world is changing, and it's starting with you."

Clark's heavy exhale preceded a reluctant nod. "No pressure, right?"

Martha looked at him sympathetically. He was holding his phone now, a dented, shattered thing beyond repair.

"Could you call Lana?" requested Clark suddenly. "I want to make sure she's still okay."

Martha did as he asked, putting hers on speaker and setting it on top of the coffee table. The phone rang once before connecting.

"Martha?! What is it? Is anything happening by you?" Lana's voice was low, breathless, and frantic. There were other voices in the background, but Martha couldn't make them out.

"No, honey, I'm fine. It's...over now."

"Over? You mean over, over? Like, everywhere?"

"Yeah, looks like it. Clark came right after the whole mess. Teleported from the Fortress."

"The For-why was he….Is he there with you?"

"Right here, Lana," said Clark.

"Oh, thank fucking Christ," she breathed. "Please tell me you're okay."

"A little worse for wear, but yeah. What about you and the Luthors? Are they still with you?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah. We're a mess of cuts and bruises but nobody's bleeding too badly. Lionel's the worst right now. Something's wrong with his leg, and probably his back too. We need transport out of New Troy so he can get it checked out."

"I can come get you. It'll be a pain to get back downtown."

Lana didn't answer immediately. When she did, her voice was lower. "No, that's okay. I really need to see you, but Lena's pretty shaken up right now and I don't want her to be alone. I don't know when we'll be making it back but if everything's really over then the Luthors'll probably pull some strings for us."

"Okay. As long as you're safe."

The background noise receded until it was just Lana's voice.

"You sound exhausted. I can't imagine what all of this was like on your end."

Clark hummed a dry laugh. "I'll tell you about it later."

"Okay. I'm gonna let everyone know we're clear. I'll call sometime later, okay?"

"We'll be here," said Martha.

"Great. Love y'all. Bye."

The call disconnected. Martha gave Clark a contented smile, and he offered a weak, tired one in return.

Much happened in the hours and days following what was now being called "The Metropolis Incident." Along with the local emergency response personnel, the Coast Guard had been deployed the day of the event to coordinate evacuation. After leaving Keystone City, Clark flew back to Metropolis and then later Tokyo to personally assist in all efforts.

Surprisingly, many of the rescuers he interacted with were genuinely excited to see him. They thanked him outright, talked with him, and even offered to buy him a meal during shift changes. Less surprisingly, some were more than a bit uneasy around him, and others were stunned to find out he really existed and that they could meet him in person. It was surreal, but Clark did his best to focus on search and rescue. His strength and x-ray vision were invaluable assets, but he made sure to defer to all those in charge of the operations. They knew better and it would avoid any more unnecessary damage. Clark hoped that his insistence on following their instructions helped to make his presence more palatable.

He was relieved that many among the wreckage were alive, albeit injured. Evacuations had started around the time the Kryptonian warship's presence was reported and Zod hadn't fired on the city until a while later, so the head start proved to be their saving grace. Still, hundreds were killed either during or after the incident, a large portion of them first responders.

The guilt compounded with each body found.

PART 2 - 'L'

Lana and Lena stood in their LuthorCorp-sponsored apartment, mostly packed and just about ready to go. The Fellowship was over and the fellows had already been set to leave a few days after the expo, but given the circumstances LuthorCorp extended their stay.

The last time Lana had spoken to Clark was three days ago. He'd given her a quick but detailed summary of what had gone down during the ordeal. She was uncharacteristically silent while listening, disbelief being chief among her emotions. It was one thing to have the knowledge that Clark was an alien, but completely another to experience the ramifications of that firsthand in a way that didn't directly have anything to do with him. At this point, the entire world was not only bombarded with the realization that they were not alone in the universe, but forced to acknowledge that they were completely outclassed in any way that mattered. Zod and the others hadn't even been on Earth for half a day and had still drastically affected the planet on a frightening scale. That was with only four people and one dilapidated warship.

Most of the damage in Metropolis had been relegated to the lowest end of New Troy, with at most a ten block radius around where Zod had landed after his ship disappeared. The farther-reaching effects were related to utilities, as water mains and transmission lines were destroyed. Public transportation was completely halted in the lower third of New Troy for two days, and upon resumption had been extensively rerouted along with the rest of traffic. The LuthorCorp buildings were unscathed for the most part, but getting back downtown still proved a feat for Lana. She'd seen Clark flying around in the distance on her way there, but hadn't spoken to him.

Gerry and Sitara went to the hospital with injuries sustained during evacuation that first day. Luckily Daron and Margaret caught up with them and they all made it safely. The Luthors' own trip to the hospital had taken the rest of the day and well into the first night. Lana and Lex declined check-ins, but the others went. Lionel's injuries weren't life-threatening, but he would need to use a back brace for the foreseeable future, as well as a cane. Lillian was mostly fine but made sure to get checked anyway. Lena had a fractured wrist and came back with a cast.

Takeia hadn't been in contact with anyone, causing much of them to fear the worst, but eventually sounded off in the group chat. She was the first to pack and flew back home to Houston before Lena and Lana even got back. All they'd found was a note on the refrigerator letting them know and asking them to call or text when they too got back home safe.

Lana made sure to help Lena pack, though neither of them had much left to do. The large open suitcase on Lana's bed was packed as well as it was going to be. Lena had brought even less than she did. There wasn't much in the refrigerator, and leftovers were unceremoniously discarded.

Lana didn't have an immediate plan, but it was still morning. She supposed she could buy a ticket back to Central City in the next hour or two and hang out uptown before taking an Uber to the airport in the late afternoon. She'd already called Chloe and planned to be back in their apartment like the last seven weeks hadn't happened.

"You don't need to fold my clothes for me, considering you saved my life," said Lena from the doorway of her bedroom, "but thank you. I do appreciate it."

Lana continued folding, giving side-eye. "Seeing as I have two fully functioning wrists I figured I'd offer my services."

"I've hurt my wrist before, a fencing injury. I can get by on my own."

"And yet I don't see you stopping me."

Lena chuckled. "Told you I can be lazy."

Lana's gaze flickered over the wristwatch she still wore. It was beautiful, but made her uneasy. Lana was never comfortable with being on the receiving end of generosity. She never knew what to do or how to feel. Moreover, the ease with which Lena had gifted her with it reminded her so much of Clark and Martha. Lana sensed that Lena could be someone just as valuable in her life, but the telltale trepidation at letting people in reared its ghastly head.

"When I was a freshman in high school I was obsessed with fencing," said Lana. "It looked so cool. But it was expensive and I would've had to drive an hour to Keystone City to take lessons so...not in the cards for me, unfortunately. Stuck with track instead."

Lena gave an impressed look, fiddling with her cast. "I never would've guessed that."

"Good," said Lana smoothly. "I enjoy being a mystery."

Lana finished the pile of clothing and zipped the suitcase closed before sitting next to it on Lena's bed. She watched Lena perform that odd gesture she did often, covering one hand with the other and tapping her fingertips together. "I always forget you're from Kansas. But when you say certain words like 'stuck' or 'book' your accent comes out."

"Oh, so you're making fun of my accent now?" Lana raised a challenging eyebrow but her voice held the same mirth it usually did.

"Not at all. I actually enjoy hearing it," Lena laughed, shaking her head. "I could teach you the basics, if you like. Of fencing, I mean."

Lana looked at Lena curiously. When they'd met, Lana hadn't known what to make of her. Lena sometimes showed her youth in very obvious ways, but often she seemed much older and wise beyond her nineteen years. That undeniable precociousness fostered a fierce protectiveness in Lana, and the first thing she thought of was taking on the role of big sister. Then again, Lana found that she could relate to Lena on equal terms more often than not, so maybe just being good friends would be enough. It wasn't like Lana had any experience with siblings anyway.

But even further, there was obviously more to Lena than she let on. They'd only known each other for a month and a half, and yet Lana felt as if she'd both known her for much longer and had barely known her for a day. It was jarring.

As expected, Lana's brain ran ahead of her trying to figure the pale, green-eyed woman out. She thought back to earlier conversations they'd had.

Lena had interests in chess and fencing, and knew much more about wines and spirits than she ought to at her age. She was wildly intelligent, versed in many disciplines, and obviously well-read and tutored. Lena had had the opportunity to study and move through school at her own pace. All aspects of the fellowship were like second nature to her. Intellectual aptitude to that degree required considerable resources to foster well, and it obviously had been. Lena owned expensive material possessions as well. She'd said her father used to work at LuthorCorp, and to Lana it made sense. Someone high up enough at LuthorCorp to have known the Luthors would certainly have been paid well at the time. Lena would have grown up around money and therefore would have experience with things more stereotypically upscale.

But...there was still something nagging Lana in the back of her mind. It was like a small piece of a large puzzle that looked like it fit at first glance, but upon further inspection proved to be the wrong one.

"Lex's full name is Alexander, right?" asked Lana. "Why doesn't everyone call him Alex?"

She looked at Lena then, whose eyes flickered from soft to alert in an instant. Her brow furrowed. "I'm not sure," she said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"'Alliterative 'L' names,'" said Lana. "Lionel said that to me before orientation."

Lana thought of her first day at LuthorCorp Tower. She'd seen Lena come in with the Luthors, and Mercy Graves had greeted the young brunette upon entering.

"Lionel Luthor...Lillian Luthor…Lex Luthor." Lana turned to face Lena directly, resting her head on her hand and trying to appear relaxed despite the buzzing she felt at her realization. "See, Lena Mercer doesn't go with the pattern. But Lena Luthor fits just fine, doesn't it?"

Lena's lips parted slightly, and a shaky breath slipped between them. Her eyes were glued to Lana's, tension present in her features. She didn't move, didn't flinch, didn't blink.

Then, her shoulders sagged defeatedly.

A huge grin formed on Lana's face before she could stop it and Lena's body language shifted dramatically. It wasn't lost on Lana, and she instinctively took the other woman's hand in hers. Her watch gleamed in the sunlight from the window, flashing a light between them. Lena flinched.

Lana gave her the warmest smile she could muster. "Don't worry, I know how to keep a secret. I promise it's safe with me. I've just been trying to figure you out for weeks, and it's nice to know I got there on my own."

Lena continued looking at her, her gaze much more tense and guarded than before. It reminded Lana of the first conversation they'd had, which made her mentally kick herself. She could've been less direct, but it was too late now. Lana felt Lena's fingers squeeze hers just a little, and did the same in kind.

"What gave it away?" whispered Lena.

Lana dropped her voice conspiratorially.

"Well...when Lionel included me in the evacuation plan during the attacks last week, he said 'come with us, Miss Lang.' As in me, specifically . Which wouldn't normally be out of the ordinary, but it struck me as weird because you were right next to me and talking to Lex. It would've made more sense to say 'you two come with us,' but thinking about it now I realized that that 'us' already included you."

Lena looked at Lana with wide eyes. Then she let loose a high peal of laughter that put Lana at ease. "Screw you and your insane attention to detail! You noticed that ?"

"Well that, and the fact that despite being relatively down to earth-"

"Just relatively?"

"-you always seemed pretty comfortable around money and quality. Like you're used to it." Lana's hand slipped from Lena's to hold herself up as she leaned back on the bed. "If it's any consolation, I'm almost positive I would've never figured it out if I wasn't ridiculously early to orientation. Everything spiraled from there, so chalk it up to coincidence."

Lena nodded, her face taking on a more somber expression. "Well, at least it wasn't me who fucked up. But yes, I am, in fact, a Luthor. Lionel's my father."

Lana took the information in, thinking. "But...Lillian isn't your mother?"

Lena's jaw flexed in a bitter grimace. "Very astute. I think you would've figured it out no matter what. You're right, she's not. My mother died when I was four. I thought I was adopted until I was eleven, but eventually it came out that Lionel had an affair when he was in Dublin on a business trip twenty years ago."

"Mm, okay. You don't have to tell me anymore if you don't want to." Lana could tell this particular part was a sore subject. She didn't want to make Lena feel any more out of sorts than she already was. "I just wanted to know if my hunch was correct, but it doesn't change anything."

Lena gave her a startled look. "It doesn't?"

"Why would it? That has nothing to do with you."

"But I mean...I've been lying to you this whole time," said Lena. Her eyes shifted unsteadily. "Aren't you mad?"

Lana laughed. "Look, if what you're saying is true, then it's no wonder why you kept it a secret. I don't know why you felt the need to participate in the fellowship at all given your obvious experience and connections, but that's not my business. You've been Lionel's daughter the whole time I've known you, and you still seem the same to me now. Unless you suddenly become a huge asshole in the next few minutes, I've got no reason to think of you any differently than I did yesterday."

Lena beamed at her then, the fullest and most open smile Lana had ever seen on her. It made Lana feel warm. Looking into Lena's sparkling eyes was almost too much and the swell in her chest made her break eye contact.

"Okay, it's not that serious," said Lana through a nervous chuckle. "You're looking at me like I'm Christmas."

Lena averted her eyes suddenly, a splash of red creeping up her neck but her smile never fully going away. A short laugh escaped her lips in a huff. "You might as well be. I'd been so worried about how someone whose opinion I actually cared about would react if they found out. And this is literally the best case scenario. So thanks."

Lena grinned at her again and then looked away, biting her lip to stifle her smile with obvious difficulty. Her fingertips tapped and rolled over each other again. Lana decided she liked that odd little tic.

"You totally want to hug me right now, don't you?"

Lena giggled and nodded. "Yeah, I really do."

Lana reached forward and grabbed Lena in a huge hug that she returned just as tightly while tucking her face into the redhead's neck. They stayed like that for a moment, calm and content in the sunlit room.

Separating after what felt too soon but was probably a while, Lena let out a sharp hiss.

"Ow, fuck." She snapped the arm that had the cast back to her chest reflexively. Lana chortled.

"Okay, no more hugs for you and that wrist," said Lana. Lena gave her a look of mock annoyance. Lana stood up and stretched.

Lena's eyes roamed over her for a moment before wandering off. She sighed. "Guess I'll have to tell them that you know now. I doubt they'd mind much, though."

Lana shook out her hair and fixed her shirt. "Why's that?"

"They all like you," said Lena, reaching for her suitcase with her good arm. "Lionel says you're the most intelligent and capable of the fellows - besides me, of course."

"Of course."

"Lillian thinks you have a good attitude and could probably navigate and dominate business circles if needed."

"Nice. And Lex?"

Lena stood up. "Lex thinks you're hot and smart, and says you'll go far when you get used to wielding both of those things."

"Well, he's not wrong."

Lena followed Lana out into the living room and waited as Lana left to grab her own bags.

Lena was ebullient. Lana knew she was a Luthor! And it was fine! Not only that, it was obvious that Lana valued her as a friend as well. The speed run of emotions that cycled through her as Lana voiced her suspicion out loud almost stopped Lena's heart, but now it felt full. Up until now, none of her acquaintances or classmates ever found out she was a Luthor, as far as she knew. But maybe it really would be okay for her to let Lionel publicly claim her as his daughter.

Lena shivered with emotion. Lana was so calm, accepting, and emotionally open. They'd connected early on, and being around her was so effortless that Lena hadn't even noticed. It was no wonder she started to feel the way she did about Lana after a while. Lena chuckled inwardly. Of course, it didn't hurt that Lana was undeniably beautiful.

But Lena would have to bury those feelings. Lock them away in tiny little boxes and shove them out of sight the way she'd done so often. Romantic and even sexual feelings weren't important right now. Lana was a friend, a person to value and cherish as is, not someone to want or to have.

And regardless, there was an entire boyfriend to consider. Clark seemed nice, and Lana only ever sung his praises. So often Lena would hear women and men alike complain about their significant others as soon as they were out of earshot like in old sitcoms, but Lana never did. Not once. And to Lena's dismay, her gut told her that Clark was good, and even good for Lana. They'd had one conversation, and his adoration for Lana was plastered all over his face with a smile so sweet it would give her cavities. He wasn't Lena's particular type, but she couldn't deny he was handsome in a wholesome, down-to-earth kind of way. Lena could tell he grew up in a small town at least.

Lana returned to the living room with her suitcase and another large bag, checking Lena's former watch. It pulled a possessive sense of satisfaction out of Lena. Her stomach did somersaults, but she ignored it. Then her phone buzzed, signaling a call from Lex.

"I'm down in front. Are you ready, or should I come up and help you along?"

"No, it's fine. We'll be down in a bit."

"Who's we?"

"Lana and me." Lana's eyes flitted up at the sound of her name, brow creased in curiosity. Lena gave her a small smile. "She knows."

"What? Why would you-"

"I didn't. She figured it out on her own."

Lex paused before answering. "Fine. I'll see you two in a bit."

Lana stood awkwardly a few feet away. "Heading out?"

"Lex is picking us up. You can stay with me at home for a bit instead of having to rush trying to get a ticket and fly out tonight." Lena leaned on the arm of the couch, still trying to hide a smile. It was nice to finally talk freely.

"So 'home' is with Lex and them?"

"Kind of. I don't actually live in the Luthor mansion but I'm still in Queensland Park close by. I live in a studio Lionel insisted on paying for. It's about a seven minute bike ride away. I make the trip a lot."

"Okay, Veronica Lodge."

Lena held an unfocused expression. "...what?"

"Archie Comics?" goaded Lana. Lena shrugged, earning a sigh from the redhead. "Never mind. It was a rich girl joke but now I feel old, so thanks for that."

Lena passed Lana with a fond look and grabbed her bags. It wasn't long until they were on their way out of New Troy and headed to Queensland Park.

Lana didn't catch a flight back to Central City until two days later. Lena had invited her to a Luthor family breakfast at Lex's insistence, and Lana found it impossible to refuse despite being staunchly uncomfortable about it. It was a cordial - even generous - offering but no doubt a formality designed to assess her trustworthiness.

It went surprisingly well, all things considered. Lionel made inquiries sound more like conversation than interrogation. Lillian made no such effort, though. Lex added levity to the experience, but was somehow the most business-like of the bunch. Lena was mostly quiet. Lana had a feeling that's how it usually went.

Before leaving, Lana exchanged contact information with everyone and promised to mull over another invitation, this time from Lionel. The Luthors apparently liked to take family vacations after major life events, and an alien invasion certainly qualified. After taking care of a few upcoming business deals, they planned to go somewhere tropical and Lana was welcome if she had nothing else to do. Her initial reaction was to decline, but then again, she'd never been to the beach before...

Now, on a plane and slumped in her seat against the window, Lana sighed sleepily. She wanted to rest and vegetate for a week, but her mind would not let her. Life's rapid changes demanded to be felt. Worry still gripped the front of her mind, and there was more behind it that she refused to acknowledge. Lana hated feeling desperate, but the inner turmoil certainly didn't match the nonchalance on the outside. Reluctantly deciding to ask for advice, she admitted to herself that the last few months were finally catching up with her.

Martha would know what to make of everything.

PART 3 - BACK AND FORWARD

Keystone City and Central City were "sister cities" that shared the Kansas-Missouri border, with the former in Kansas and the latter in Missouri. All it took was a thirty minute train ride for Lana to show up at Martha's cozy apartment. The previous day only saw her arrival in Central City and an immediate crash. Lana slept for a dozen hours after barely a greeting to Chloe, and woke up in the middle of the night to nothing but darkness and jumbled thoughts. The morning couldn't come fast enough, and when it did she hastily made the preparations to visit the older woman.

Martha made a light lunch for them when Lana arrived. The small round dining table off the edge of the kitchen reflected the early afternoon sunlight. Not for the first time, Lana felt a warmth in Martha's presence that had nothing to do with the summer season. She wasn't relaxed, but still was comforted knowing she made the right choice on who to visit.

Clark hadn't been by for several days since he was so busy doing damage control. She worried he was overcompensating, but she knew him too well to think he'd listen if she brought it up. He felt guilty, and guilt was too strong a motivator.

"What's on your mind, honey?" asked Martha after they'd finished eating. "You look like you want to talk."

Lana sighed. "You should start a side-gig as a psychic."

Martha's patient look goaded her on, but Lana didn't know where to start and wasn't accustomed to this sort of thing.

One of the lessons Martha had taught her while she was growing up around Clark was to be the person she wished others had been for her. Parents, teachers, and so-called "friends" were constantly critical, so Martha told her to praise others instead. If she wanted the people around her to support her, she should be willing to support others as well.

Looking back, Lana was sure that this single piece of advice was the only reason she wasn't as awful as she could've been. It shaped her conscience and her morality, and reminded her to look for and to others when she was too caught up in herself. That constant effort was exhausting, but only very recently did Lana realize that she'd gone about it the wrong way. For years she strived to maintain that outlook all on her own and wondered how Clark and Martha could be as wonderful as they were without worrying about their own character the way Lana did so often. The answer was so obvious now. Clark had tried to tell her, but she hadn't been in the headspace to listen.

Clark and Martha made it look easy because they had each other.

More importantly, they knew they had each other. The intrinsic trust and comfort that came from their relationship permeated everything they did. They were there for each other, and never let the other feel alone if they could help it. Lana had always been included in that, but only now did it truly sink in.

They also trusted themselves to be good people individually. For Lana, the problem was that she couldn't relate.

"My parents called me," blurted Lana. "During the invasion, they called."

Martha looked surprised at first, but then a lot seemed to process through her features. She didn't say anything. Lana took a breath.

"I hadn't spoken to them since graduation. Maybe I was just caught off guard, or high-strung from everything going on but I really went off on them. Mostly Mom. It certainly wasn't the first time, but I was just so agitated that I couldn't even pretend to be cordial."

Martha nodded sympathetically. "No one can blame you, Lana. I know they-"

"No, you don't," said Lana suddenly. Martha gave a startled look. "You...you don't know. Nobody does. Not even Clark."

There was a moment of silence between them. Lana did her best to keep her eyes averted, but found she couldn't ignore Martha's reaction for long. The look in her eyes was almost apprehensive, just a little pitying, and mostly prayerful. Lana knew Martha hoped for anything she explained to be better than what she feared. But Lana also knew it was worse.

It came out of her quickly, a forced jumbled mess with no real order or direction. That was all she could manage.

When Lana was sixteen, her parents forbade her from attending Smallville High's Spring Formal. To their understanding, there would be boys present and all the chaperones in the world wouldn't be able to keep them in line. Lana would surely be exposed to all sorts of sex, alcohol, and drug related scenarios and that just wasn't an option. But despite agreeing on the end result, Thomas and Carol Lang never agreed on method.

Carol wanted to bargain with Lana and present a more "Christian" alternative to the social outing, despite it already being held at school. Thomas was staunchly against anything that involved boys after normal school hours. It caused a three-way argument between them and her father, in one of his many rages, got physical. His daughter had disrespected him and his wife undermined him, so they were to be reprimanded.

He dragged Lana outside and into the storm cellar, forcing her to stay put as he barred the doors from the outside. Lana didn't know what he did to her mother, but at that point she was more concerned about herself. It wasn't until two hours later that Lana went into a full blown panic.

What had once been a quiet space for Lana to stew in her misery became an echoing tomb with everything rattling around her. The rage of a sudden storm blew through Smallville with unexpected force and focus, and Lana was trapped underground the entire time. The constant thunder of whistling, howling winds drowned out her thoughts and replaced them with the certainty of her death. Lana never forgot the mounting tension that manifested at the sounds of snapping debris, winding her body up like a rubber band stretched as far as it would go as she huddled in a corner with her eyes tightly shut and her hands over her ears. Storm cellars were meant for this, but tornadoes were always terrifying regardless. Three had touched down. Only one had been near the Lang farm, but it lasted for a full twenty minutes before dissipating a few miles away.

Hours passed before her mother came to get her out. Thomas had taken her away from the house after putting Lana there, and they got stuck in town when the tornadoes hit. Apparently, they'd reasoned Lana was in the safest place she could be during the ordeal, so they didn't worry much. Lana spent a lot more time at the Kent farm after that.

When Lana left for college, she made the decision to move completely. She, Thomas, and Carol had had a real falling out and by that time Lana's fear of her parents had been replaced by rage. Most of the altercations in the Lang house were explosive, and Lana's own contributions fit the bill. She found she could scream just as loud as her father and make remarks even more biting than her mother's. There was a reckless freedom in participating in the violence, in speaking the language of abuse. Stubbornly, Lana would no longer roll over, and the angrier she got the more she resented her mother.

Lana knew it wasn't her fault-at least when it came to Thomas's actions. But she hated the complicity. Carol herself admitted he was always like this. There had been no abrupt change. And still she chose to raise a child with him. Whatever factors influenced Carol didn't matter to Lana. They didn't change everything she had to go through as their daughter, and didn't ameliorate the circumstances. So Lana left, and did her best to distance herself from the two of them. The daunting decision was at first unrealistic. They knew everything about her, what she'd be doing for college and where she'd be. It would never be a true escape. Building herself up without them seemed like an impossible task. And it was, until the day Lana threatened her father with his own gun.

Barely a month into college, Lana was home again. Aunt Nell had given her the news that her mother took a fall down the stairs and was hospitalized for a broken tibia, a fractured pelvis, and a mild concussion. Nell took a week off from work to help her sister recuperate, but Thomas was mostly absent for a while afterward. Lana hadn't even seen him the first weekend she came back. After pressuring both Nell and Carol, Lana forced the story out of them. The fall had not been an accident when Carol was home alone, as previously told. She and her husband had gotten into yet another argument. Walking away from him did not end the conflict as she'd expected, and instead resulted in him pushing her from the top of the staircase.

Cynicism and distrust had already led Lana to the truth before she'd gotten there, but she wanted to hear them say it out loud. She'd been foolish to think she'd earned a modicum of freedom being in Central City. Midterms hadn't even begun and already she'd missed classes and was back home again stewing over her hatred of her father. But if this is what life would continue to force on her, then Lana would damn well make sure she'd deal on her own terms. No longer would she put up with dishonesty and excuses. Not from anyone. Lana didn't care if things were hard for others to hear anymore. She didn't care how she made them feel. All she cared about was pushing back.

The first time Lana saw him after her mother's hospital stay, he'd come back to the house at almost midnight. Nell and Carol were still awake in her bedroom, and Lana sat just outside in the living room. Thin walls made it easy to hear Thomas's manipulative, half-assed apology, and Lana calmly decided she'd had enough. A short trip to the kitchen cabinet under the sink left Lana with her father's revolver in her semi-steady right hand.

She stood in the doorway among the three of them and aimed at her father's chest, ignoring the gasps of surprise that came from the other women present.

"Hey, Dad," said Lana. "It's late. I think you should leave."

Thomas eyed her softly, but visibly tense. "I know emotions are high right now, but this is a hard time for your mother so let's settle down so she can get some rest, okay? I only came here to apologize."

Lana's eyes hardened, and could see the obstinance forming in her father's stance. "I won't tell you a third time. Get out."

"This is my house. I come and go as I please." He turned away from Lana, seemingly interested in the small bookshelf opposite his wife's bed. Lana knew he was posturing, pretending he wasn't afraid. "Pulling a gun on your own flesh and blood…we raised you better, Lala."

The sharp, booming crack startled everyone but Lana, the source of the sound. She'd moved to aim at the floor and swiftly pulled the trigger in almost one motion. Carol's short gasping scream tore a sense of satisfaction from Lana, almost as much as her father's frozen look. She aimed at him again, pulling the hammer back down.

"It's not smart to antagonize the person holding a deadly weapon. Then again, no one ever praised you for your intelligence."

"Don't make threats if you ain't following through. Anybody can talk big and shoot at the floor, but-"

"You know, I've hated myself a long time for this, but I've always been more like you than Mom. It eats at me. But right now, I'm finding it useful. So you can either do what I tell you, or you can find out the hard way everything I'm willing to do."

Thomas didn't respond, and the room stayed silent for a moment. Then Lana continued. "I haven't seen you around until now. You're gonna keep that up. Nell is here taking care of Mom, so there's no need to come back while she's recuperating. You aren't wanted here. Nell will keep me updated once I get back to Central City. If you don't follow instructions..."

Lana waved the gun in her hand with a tight smile, then aimed again.

Thomas finally complied after a moment, walking out of the room. He didn't stop until he'd left the house, and Lana didn't see him again until seven months later.

Following that incident Lana kept in touch with Nell, but rarely communicated with her mother. Calls and texts went unanswered despite the attempts to check up. Once Nell stopped her periodic visits to the Lang farm, Lana gave up on reaching out. College was its own handful and she decided to focus on that. After a while, she stopped talking to Nell too.

And so Lana never told her parents about the scholarships and grants she'd earned. She never kept them updated on any goings-on in Central City. She took a semester off two separate times during undergrad, and Lana was sure they hadn't noticed. They'd never come to visit her and she hadn't made the drive back home.

It sickened her to think about it now. Lana would tell anyone who asked that she hated her parents. So why had she expected them to at least visit campus, only an hour away? Every interaction with them made her want to disappear. Why did she want them there? Her mother called during a crisis, yet Lana's immediate reaction was anger at the fact that she hadn't called sooner. Why?

"So, yeah...that's the worst of it, mostly," said Lana awkwardly. Martha's glassy eyes stared at her hands folded on the table.

"I told Jonathan," Martha whispered shakily. "I never liked Thomas, I told him. Carol, neither."

"Martha, don't-"

"He said we couldn't get involved or it could make things worse for you, but I told him. 'What if it's already worse?' I said, but he just wouldn't budge."

Lana took her hand. "Jonathan was right, Martha. Who knows what my father would have done if he felt cornered."

Martha sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I know, honey. I know. Annoying as all hell but Jon was damn hear always right."

Lana smiled. "Yeah. I miss him."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I wish to God you'd been our daughter," Martha sighed. "I really do."

Lana thought she'd kept her composure well the whole time. Now it was obvious she'd never been calm. Martha's admission squeezed at her heart and pulled her stomach into her throat, and Lana realized then that she'd already been crying. She swallowed a sob and exhaled through her nose, unable to meet Martha's eyes.

"You were always a good mother to me when I needed it. The best," Lana confessed. "But I think it's better this way. Being with Clark would be pretty weird and uncomfortable otherwise."

Martha snorted a chuckle and cleared her throat. "I guess you're right."

Lana's jaw clenched reflexively as she wiped her eyes and fell into seriousness again. She swallowed, nervous. She'd already shared more than planned, but this wasn't why she came. There was more that needed to be said.

"When Clark was dealing with Zod, I was evacuating with the Luthors. There was one moment where I was absolutely sure I was going to die, and the most specific regret that came to mind was that I never thanked you."

"Lana-"

"Please, just...let me finish. You and Clark have been so good to me, even when I didn't deserve it. My family is a pile of dog shit but then I always had family in you. I was always welcome in your home and that saved me from the worst version of myself." Lana took a deep breath and continued. "But I still have a long way to go. Falling in that helicopter I realized I'm not even close to who I want to be."

Silence hummed between them. The breeze from the open window smelled like summer, mocking Lana with its positivity. There was more to say, but telling only half her thoughts was a habit too ingrained to break.

"And you don't know how to move forward," said Martha. Lana held a look of uncertainty. "Or maybe you do, but aren't sure your decisions will be the right ones."

Lana looked away. All she felt was shame and disgust at herself. She hoped it didn't show on her face.

"You know, a few months ago Clark came to me for advice because he was finally ready to come home. But this feels like the talk we had when he went away."

Lana's breath hitched and she hung her head, unable to stop fresh tears from falling and joining the dried ones on her cheeks. Still she couldn't bring herself to speak again. Martha took her hand and Lana's entire body tensed. She felt like a child.

"Do what you feel you need to, Lana. That's all I can say. Anything else would be selfish of me. Our lives are our own and whether we have others by our side or not, we can't live for anybody else."

"I haven't even told you what I want to do yet," whispered Lana. "How can you always be so supportive?"

"I trust you, sweetheart. You're a good person and even smarter than my baby boy. Whatever it is will be the best thing for you in the long run. Just know that I love you and will always be there when you call. And you might as well. Being retired can get a little boring, you know."

Lana laughed despite herself. Wiping her eyes, she sat up straight. "I am smarter than Clark, aren't I?"

"I'm sure he'd agree."

Lana calmed herself as much as she could, but could do nothing to ease her upset stomach. She cleared her throat. "I know what race I'm running but don't know how to find the starting line."

Martha looked at her with sympathetic eyes. "Starting is always the worst part, but the most important."

Just as Lana had always seen her past reflected back at her, now she could glimpse a future. The light was dim, and the voyage would hurt like hell, but there it was.

"Yeah. It is."

PART 4 - BETTER

Sunsets were always more captivating when viewing them from above the clouds. The pinks and oranges reflected off both the sky and the clouds to blend and produce colors that Clark couldn't even describe. Not that he would-humans couldn't see them anyway.

An eventful day of accident and crime prevention was now coming to a close, and Lana's invitation (a simple "meet me on the roof tonight? ") had him in high spirits. They hadn't spent much time together since the Metropolis Incident, so Clark hoped this would catalyze a return to normalcy for them. They still talked frequently, but he felt awkward in a way he never had before.

A quick change into normal clothes and he was on his way up the stairs to the roof. It was a warm night with a cool breeze that reminded him of home, but the air was much different in the city than back on the farm. Dozens of smells mixed together so densely, and the wind didn't move as freely. Still, the blanket of noise in the city was more lively and concentrated. It made Clark feel like a part of something, and there was comfort in that.

Lana stood by the tall ledge on the far side of the roof, looking out towards Westminster. Much of the area was brightly lit now that the sky was almost fully dark. The most prominent was STAR Labs, the digital screens and billboards shining like a beacon a mile away. Lana didn't react when Clark walked up to her. He settled next to her in silence, taking in the skyline. Eventually, she leaned into his arm.

"I hear they're calling you 'Superman' now."

"I heard. It's weird, being named when you're an adult. But I kind of like it. It's catchy."

"Yeah, I guess."

Lana looked up at him. Her eyes were glossy with reflected light, holding an emotion he couldn't place. Clark had never seen a more open look on her face. It moved him, akin to the view of a colorless sky flooded with stars and an empty fullness he thought he'd never get anywhere else.

Lana rose up on her toes and kissed him fully, slowly, in a way she never had before. It was powerful, yet fleeting, and left Clark in a liminal space. He was no longer sure he was solid, or if that was even good or bad. She looked at him again.

"I'm sorry," breathed Lana.

That pulled him back to reality. He shook his head. "For what?"

"At the expo, before...everything. You came to me about declaring yourself publicly. You were worried and needed support, and I basically told you to fuck off." Lana looked back out to the skyline. "I was scared and it made me possessive. Your decision would change everything, how people relate to you, to each other…I'm afraid of that change, and I don't want to share you."

"Lana..."

She whirled back to face him, looking at him with an exasperated fondness. "But you always knew better, didn't you? Something told you that the moment was coming, and then Zod and the others happened. I should've trusted you."

"Hey. It's okay, I under-"

"No, it isn't," she said with force. Her arms came up to cradle herself and she took a step back. "It's not and it never has been. I've always taken you for granted. I've always been selfish."

"What?" voiced Clark, who could do nothing to hide the incredulous look on his face. "That's not true."

"Yes, it is. This is just the most recent time. Whenever we stopped talking over the years, it's because I stopped and then you followed my lead. Then I call or text after months and months and you always let me back in. I made you adhere to my stupid schedule instead of just being honest or putting in the work to maintain contact. Even when I wanted to."

Clark to a second to process, and then answered.

"You didn't make me do anything, Lana. We grew up together but I can't expect our paths to be exactly the same. If they decided to cross again then of course I would let you in. I've always wanted you in my life."

Lana gave a mirthless laugh. "Of course you would see it that way."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Lana moved more quickly than Clark expected, and turned to him again head on.

"When I made you promise not to tell anyone about the bruises I got at home, what did you do? You wanted to help me, do the right thing, but what did you do?"

Clark recoiled. He recalled the argument they'd had, how terrible he felt after that so many years ago. It was the only bad memory he had of her, and it was tinged with shame. "I didn't do anything."

"Why?" Lana searched for his eyes, but he couldn't look at her.

"Because you asked me not to."

"Exactly!" cried Lana. "And it was so fucking stupid of me! I think about it all the time and I feel awful because you kept your promise! And it's my fault. It was the wrong choice and I made you do the wrong thing."

Lana's voice shook with tension, like low-hanging branches in a storm. Her jaw was set and firm. Clark stayed silent.

"And when I asked you to be open to stopping people from hurting each other, all I was thinking about was how much I wished you hadn't kept your promise. That you would've swooped in and helped me too."

"It was good advice, Lana," said Clark, almost pleading. "Your perspective made me better. It wasn't selfish."

"God dammit!" Lana yelled into the air over the barricade. Clark was startled. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her riled like this, but it was the first time it was directed at him. "Why can't you just be mad at me?"

Clark blinked, brow creasing. "I...I don't understand."

Lana chuckled ruefully, and only then did Clark realize she was crying.

"I want you to admit that I'm not the amazing woman you think I am. You and Martha are so kind, so generous, and so loving that you can't even see how shitty I've been. Or maybe you just don't care. I've always imposed on your family, only ever came around when I was in need. And you helped me because you're good people. All I ever do is take. You're governed by love and empathy. The only motivations I've ever known are selfishness, anger, and resentment." Clark made to counter, but Lana cut him off. "Don't bother disagreeing with me. I know me better than you."

Clark sighed with a defeated look. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go.

"Lana, where is this coming from?"

Lana's heart was pounding and everything inside her was screaming at full volume. She'd been up on the roof for hours before Clark got there, gathering her thoughts and trying to figure out how to voice them. Of course, it didn't work. She couldn't form a coherent plan for the life of her, and once she'd started talking to him everything tumbled out of her on its own accord. But at that point Lana had given up. She would have to let it run its course.

"When that helicopter was going down, just before you saved us, I was so sure I was going to die. And that realization was full of regret, because I never got to be the person I wanted to be. I saw exactly who I am, and I don't like her. I thought 'if I had more time to get there, maybe one day I could be proud of the person I became.' But then I survived. And now it feels like a vow. I have to grow and be better."

"Lana, come on," said Clark softly. "It's not like you're a terrible person. You're just as wonderful and deeply flawed as anyone else. I'm sure I don't know the extent of it but nothing about your life has been easy. You are a good person, and it wouldn't be fair of me to disregard what you've been through just to insinuate you could be better. It's great that you want to, and we all should, but I've always loved you as you've been and will love you as you improve. You've always been worth that, to me and my parents."

Lana smiled then, wetness pooling still at her eyes.

"That's the problem. Your love is unconditional, and I wish more than anything that my parents were like you and yours. It's everything I've ever wanted." Clark's eyes were so bare, so inviting and she could see he meant everything he said. She loved him so much. She truly did. "But it's not what I need."

Her boyfriend's eyes squinted and relaxed, the way he did when he was confused. It was always cute, but just then she thought it was beautiful. Concern was evident on his face. She awaited his answer.

"What do you need?"

Lana's shoulders slumped with a low sigh. She was suddenly tired. "If I hurt you, you'll still love me. If I'm selfish, you'll still love me. If I do or say something fucked up, you'll understand, have empathy, and automatically forgive. You'll still love me. What I need is an incentive to keep being better, without feeling like I'm not good enough. I need to be held accountable...but it's not in your nature. You're just too good to me, babe."

The look on Clark's face was indescribable. Too much and too little showed, and Lana didn't know what to make of it. She pressed on.

"I need to find out if I can be good, be better, without that safety net. Otherwise I'll never know if it's me that's truly good, or if it's just your love preventing me from being worse."

Clark opened his mouth but closed it again, looking away. "So...what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I love you more than I ever thought I could love anything. But for all the work I still have to do, I…" Lana steeled herself. This wasn't what she wanted. And yet, this was the resolution she came to at the end of her thread. She swallowed, her mouth dry. "I don't think I can be with you."

Lana watched as the light drained from Clark's face. She could see every emotion slip through the cracks in his composure. He stood eerily still, and his silence grated on Lana's nerves. She already felt horrible, but this was too much.

She almost wanted him to fight her on it, to run on emotion, to tell her that she was overreacting and being too hasty. Lana wanted him to tell her that they could find a way to give her what she needed while still being together.

But she knew better, and she knew him. Lana had already put her stake in the ground and defended it. And Clark would respect her decision.

"Okay," he said finally. The sound of his voice made Lana want to vomit. It was low, gravelly, and devoid of energy. It wasn't the voice she loved. It was all wrong. "If this is what you need, then okay. I...I want to say that I'll still be there if you call, but that kind of defeats the purpose, I guess."

Lana didn't think she could feel worse, but there it was. She couldn't take this one back. The irony didn't escape her either. She'd just voiced her desire not to be selfish and here she was, doing the selfish thing again. But that was the point, wasn't it?

"I'm sor-"

Suddenly Clark's attention was elsewhere, the empty, pained look on his face flashing to alarm. His head snapped to the right and his eyes squinted behind his glasses. He clearly heard and saw something Lana couldn't. He turned back to her.

"There's a fire."

Lana nodded, wiping her eyes. "Go. They'll need you."

Clark stayed put for a moment, but didn't meet her eyes.

"I always want what's best for you," he said. "I hope this is it. Goodbye, Lana."

Suddenly he was gone, leaving only a gust of wind in his place. Lana was alone on the roof again as she had been most of the evening. A hollowed-out feeling consumed Lana amidst the low din of the city night, making her breathless and suffocating as if in a vacuum. She could not shake the thought that Clark was gone just like that, ripped from her life and her heart with the force of his superspeed.

But it's what she deserved, wasn't it? Sadly and awkwardly she broke up with and hurt the person she loved most. After all he'd dealt with in the past month, he should have been able to come home to her, to find solace in her. But she took that away from the both of them. All Lana could do was tell herself that it was best. Clark deserved all the love in the world, and much better than her. And she'd been honest. She truly didn't feel she could grow to her fullest potential if sheltered and coddled by his love. One day in the future, she'd look back on this without regret. It would be clear that this was the right decision.

But now, it just wasn't fair. Not fucking fair at all.

Lana screamed in frustration, raw and tearful at the night sky, hoping that whatever personification of her life would hear her and take it to heart.

Clark followed the sounds of roaring flames and crackling debris on autopilot. His mind was still with Lana, and as he went through the motions of putting out the hardware store fire he slipped into an icy numbness. He was always going to respect Lana's wishes. He always put her needs and happiness above his own, and this is what she felt she needed. But it didn't stop him from thinking it was the wrong decision. It didn't stop him from feeling awful.

The fire department arrived speedily and Clark didn't bother to stick around long after putting it out. Dusting the ash off his suit, he took to the sky again. He needed time to process, not to dwell and wallow on being dumped. Flying higher and higher, he didn't stop until he was in low orbit before floating along the silence of the air.

There was so much more to consider now, more on his mind every day since he started with cleanup after the Metropolis Incident. He'd interacted more and more with the public. "Superman" routinely made international news now. The change happened so quickly, but there was no denying that he'd become a worldly figure whose existence had now been accepted as truth on a large scale. All that was left was to address that public, on his terms. Many governments had already called for meetings with him. There was a United Nations summit coming up soon. Maybe he could crash it for a bit…

But Lana and the future were worries for tomorrow. Superman closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of humanity. There were always people in need and right now, there was work to do.

EPILOGUE

The Phantom Zone was the same as it had been, unyielding and unchanging, a lesser existence when compared to true space. Zod knelt among the whitish gray, almost snowy expanse. His body was not as it once was, and certainly not of the substance he had so fleetingly experienced on Earth. Going back to this after having all that power took a toll. He was at his limit.

Faora was here - he knew that. He just had to find her. She'd been severely injured when she was forced back into this place, but its effects on one's physical form would keep her alive. As alive as one can be considered in the Phantom Zone, at least.

[Back again, General?]

Zod's attention snapped at the sound, clear as none in this dimension. A familiar figure floated into view. The being who had once set him free had returned. This time it looked different, dressed in sleek metal armor with none of its scarred body visible. Somehow, it looked even less like a person than before.

[You failed,] it said. [But that was not unexpected. Regardless, I have gained much through your endeavors.]

[Knowledge,] Zod spat with a sneer. His voice sounded muffled once again.

[Yes. And you may still have use yet.]

The air shimmered several meters away from them and revealed a colossal aircraft in the shape of a head. Zod marveled at the size, as well as the casual display of power and ability. To this being, the Phantom Zone was no more of a nuisance than any other place.

[What are you?] coaxed the general.

Something thick and metallic materialized from within the being's silhouette. It was tentacle-like, moving in wavy coils. [Before its destruction, Krypton referred to me as The Collector of Worlds. But I assure you, I am much more than that.]

The metallic tentacle hardened suddenly and surged forward. Its tip flattened and opened to attach itself to the front of Zod's head. The general's form went slack and limp after a moment and the tentacle detached itself, leaving a small glowing node on his forehead. The Collector merely gestured then, and the re-imprisoned Kryptonian began to float toward the large ship. The bottom of it opened and accepted the deposit. The Collector flew up to join it inside.

The entire vessel shimmered and disappeared, leaving silence to fill the white void once more.

/

[A/N: This story is finally complete! Thank you to everyone who read this, clicked on it, and reviewed it. It took longer than I originally planned but I'm happy I got this far and was able to finish it. This is my first fic ever and it means a lot that I kept getting encouragement and interest to see it through. Thank you for sticking with me.

(And a special thank you to an even more special friend who made sure I kept at it little by little. She knows who she is)

I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it! I'll be working on more fics in this series and others as well, so look out for those if you like :) As always, feedback is much appreciated!]