Clark followed through on his promise to Mr. White. To see Lois and Jimmy. Lois, who had of course known his identity, and Jimmy, who hadn't. He met them up on the rooftop, underneath the Daily Planet's ever spinning golden globe.
"This whole time… Now I can't figure out what to call you…" Jimmy started, perplexed and hesitant. Clark was quick to reassure him.
"It's alright, Jimmy. You can call me whatever you want."
"It's just… it was easier, you know. Not knowing who you were. Because now you're not Superman, you're you. You're a hero still, but… geez, Miss Lane, I don't know how you managed this. I just get so scared for you, now. I'm sorry, I know this ain't what you want to hear, after everything else."
Before Clark had a chance to respond, to even attempt to form words with the guilt crushing his heart, Lois took over. Bold and brash and brave as he'd ever seen her.
"Well lookee here, I finally got what I always wanted. Some sympathy and understanding. About damn time. But since we're switching names around all over the place, Jimmy, call me Lois from now on."
And Jimmy soldiered on right along with her. "Feels kind of weird, you know… because you're so much older than me."
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Jimmy."
"Maybe you actually didn't. You know, because your hearing's going. I know that's a real problem for older folks."
Lois was losing the battle to keep the smile off her face, when luckily Clark provided her with a distraction. "Well here's somebody who's got the opposite problem, and I can tell he's picking something up. What is it this time, Clark? Fire? Tsunami?"
"...Earthquake."
The mood dampened and dimmed, and Lois drew things to a close. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get on out of here."
"I'm still gonna call you Mr. Kent, if you don't mind. But take care, Mr. Kent. I'll be thinking of ya."
"And we still expect you to take time out of your busy schedule to come see us."
"When things die down, you can probably come down into the office and see everybody again too!"
"Yeah, when all the other papers and offices in the building quit poking in on us." Trying to get a glimpse of him, was left unsaid, but now Clark's focus was filling with at first disoriented, then increasingly distressed shouts, as he replied, "I'll be back." And Lois answered briefly,"You better."
He took off, and then busied himself digging amongst rubble. Trying as best he could to understand the pleas for help in a language he did not speak.
He did not enjoy it, per se, but he knew what he needed to do.
Unlike the rest of his life.
He found that happening more and more often. His downtime interrupted, by distress and destruction he couldn't tune out. At least, not the way he used to. Even at the Daily Planet he'd run out to take care of emergencies, why he wore his uniform under his suit in the first place.
The League did not approve of him taking on more shifts, despite his insistence and clearer schedule. But, with no other obligation, he had a harder and harder time coming up with reasons why he shouldn't intervene.
Even his past pastime, reading about Krypton, held little appeal to him. And unlike before, he didn't particularly enjoy the time he spent at the Fortress.
He was no longer alone there, and he did not want to be tormented by doubts. Could things have been different? Had he been too quick to judge?
Bruce, and everyone else for that matter had agreed with him. Even he, in his rarer and rarer moments of clarity, believed he had made the right choice. That things would not have been different.
That didn't stop him from wishing they could have been though.
And from dreaming of the vision, of a new Krypton, that Zod had promised him.
To prevent those dreams, morning eventually began to follow night without sleep to separate them. Then as he roamed around the globe, helping where he could, which was constant and never-ending, the day eventually no longer became broken up by breakfast, lunch and dinner either.