Archive of Our Own

Disclaimer: Smallville and its characters belong to the WB and DC Comics. I don't own any of it. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

Author's

"Hello, Clark Kent," Clark said as he answered the phone in his office.

"Clark?" a familiar voice called out meekly from the other end.

"Mom? What's wrong?" Clark said, hearing the worry in her voice.

"It's your father, Clark," Martha answered. "He's... he's had a heart attack."

"Oh God," Clark simply answered as he started to get up and put on his jacket. "I'll be home in a few minutes."

"We're at the hospital already," Martha told her son. "And Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."

Clark rushed out of the office, and when he was sure no one was looking, he super-speeded into a barely visible blur and then took off into the sky. He was back in Smallville in mere minutes, slowing down as he approached the road leading up to Smallville Medical Center. He ran in, frantically asking where his father was and running up the stairs to the ICU.

"Mom!" Clark called out, seeing his mother standing in the waiting room, looking at her husband through the observation window. Her hair had grayed a little and the wrinkles in her face had deepened over the years, and she looked tired and worried, but she was still as beautiful as Clark always imagined her in his head. She turned at the sound of her son's voice, letting herself be drawn into his arms, his large frame and his comforting embrace so much like his father's.

"What happened?" Clark asked as he let her go, keeping a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"He was coming in from the fields and he looked like he was straining. I went out to meet him on the porch and he suddenly just... he just collapsed," she explained. "I told him to take it easy--we're just not as young as we used to be. But he's been working himself so hard. We can't afford as many farmhands as we need since you left home and he's been trying to make up for it."

Martha looked up to see the look of pain on her son's face. She was rambling on in her anxious state.

"Oh Clark, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to make you feel guilty. It's not your fault. Not at all," she reassured. "It's just... God, I'm so scared."

"I know, Mom, I know," Clark said, nodding.

"Mrs. Kent?" a voice interrupted.

"Oh, hi, Dr. Reese," Martha greeted as she saw the young doctor approach. "This is my son, Clark."

"Your son?" Dr. Reese asked in confusion. "I thought you said he lived in Metropolis."

"Oh, I do," Clark answered quickly, trying to explain his prompt arrival. "I was just... I was in the area working on a story when my mom called. I had my partner drop me off here."

"Oh, I see," Dr. Reese nodded, not quite believing the story.

"Do you have any news for us?" Martha asked, changing the subject.

"Yes," Dr. Reese answered, clearing his head and preparing himself to talk to his patient's family. "Unfortunately, Mr. Kent seems to have suffered a pretty serious heart attack. We've put him on Heparin, an anticoagulant, to try to prevent any more clotting, but it looks like he has a number of blocked arteries in his chest. We'll have to perform bypass surgery to replace them with blood vessels from his leg."

Clark and Martha exchanged looks and then Clark asked, "Will he be okay? I mean, it's serious, but bypass surgery is pretty common nowadays, isn't it?"

"Yes, unfortunately, it is," Dr. Reese sighed. He had grown up in Smallville and had been working in its hospital for a few years now. Time and again, he found himself treating patients who, because of poor diet, lack of exercise, and generally bad health habits, found themselves having to undergo heart surgery, developing diabetes or lung cancer, and having other complications as they grew older. He supposed this was the price of practicing medicine in a small Midwestern town where people often found themselves too distracted by the pressures of making a living everyday to take care of their health.

"I want to make sure you understand all the risks," he said. "Even if he makes it through the procedure, which I think he will, he will have to drastically change his lifestyle. He will need months to recover fully and even then he probably won't be able to return to doing the same type of strenuous work I'm sure he has been doing on the farm for most of his life. And even though he won't be able to do that type of work, he'll still need to start an exercise regime and change his diet as well."

"We understand," Clark said, answering for both his mother and himself. Now that he was older, he felt that he should take more control of family affairs, trying to take the pressure off of his mother, especially with his father like this. "When can he have the surgery?"

"We can schedule him in for tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Martha answered, eyes tired and voice weak.

"Can I go in and see him?" Clark asked the doctor.

"Yes," he answered. "He needs his rest, but he should be able to talk for a little while."

Martha gestured for him to go in without her, needing the time to process everything the doctor had told them. Clark let go of his mother and quietly opened the door to his father's hospital room. Seeing his father hooked up to various machines and tubes, Clark remembered the last time he had seen his father this sick--the time when he had fallen under the power of the Nicodemus flower--and the same feelings of fear washed over him. He tried to remain strong and sat down at his father's side.

"Dad?"

At first, it didn't seem like Jonathan had heard his son, but then he slowly began to stir.

"Clark?" he called out, a little confused and disoriented.

"Yeah, Dad, it's me," Clark answered, putting his hand over his father's, trying to get his attention. "I came right away when Mom called to tell me what happened."

"You shouldn't have done that, Clark," Jonathan answered, his voice hoarse from sleep and sickness. "I'll be fine. Did anyone see you?"

"No, Dad, nobody saw me," Clark answered, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. They had gone though this little exchange every time Clark used any of his powers and even in this state, Jonathan still brought it up. "Don't worry. You just rest."

Jonathan nodded, relaxing into the bed again, his eyes falling shut. "I'm glad you're here, son."

"I know, Dad," Clark said, patting his father's hand and watching him fall back to sleep.

Jonathan had to undergo some additional tests before his surgery in the morning and Martha urged Clark to use the time as a chance to get some fresh air and clear his head. Clark paced around the parking lot, finally sitting down on a bench outside and running his fingers through his hair--he had hardly had a chance to brush away the dirt that often collected in his hair and on his clothes after running through the cornfields. It had been a long time since he'd had a chance to run through the familiar golden fields of his hometown.

Clark realized that he needed to go back to Metropolis soon to gather some things from his apartment and tell Perry that he was taking a leave of absence, if not leaving all together. Despite all the tension between him and his family, Clark knew that they needed him at home. They would need someone to help run the farm. They would need someone to help his father get better. They would need Clark.

Clark took his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it on, getting ready to call his boss to explain his sudden disappearance today, but as soon as turned it on, it rang and vibrated violently in his hand.

"Hello?" Clark answered.

"Clark?" a voice questioned from the other end.

"Lex?"

"Where are you?" Lex asked, sounding a little worried. "You were supposed to meet me for lunch half an hour ago. I stopped by your office, but Lois told me you had left in a hurry over two hours ago. Are you okay?"

"Oh God, Lex, I'm sorry," Clark apologized. "I forgot. I'm in Smallville."

"What happened?"

"It's my dad... he had a heart attack."

"Oh God, Clark, I'm so sorry," Lex said, overwhelmed by the pain and empathy he felt for Clark. "I'll get the best specialists out there on a helicopter as soon as possible."

"No, Lex. Thank you, but no. The doctors here have it under control." It was just like Lex to immediately try to help, especially if it was with the money and power only he had. Clark smiled. It reminded him of their days back in Smallville, of when he slowly began to realize how much Lex cared for him.

"Okay, Clark," Lex sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, but I appreciate the offer. I'll probably fly back to Metropolis in a little while to get some clothes and talk to Perry about taking a leave of absence."

"Clark, how did you get out there in the first place?" Lex asked suddenly, momentarily forgetting the reason Clark was in Smallville. "Did you fly out there?"

"I had to, Lex. It was an emergency," Clark explained. For all their disagreements, Lex and Clark's father seemed to be in some unspoken contest over who could worry about Clark more. "And I'll have to fly back tonight so I can be back here to stay with my father until morning. His surgery is scheduled for nine."

"No, Clark. Your father's already sick. I don't want you worrying your mother and quite frankly, me by flying around in broad daylight." Lex wanted to drop everything and meet Clark in Smallville, be there for him as a friend, but he hesitated--he wasn't Clark's boyfriend anymore and it had only been a few months since they had started to rebuild their friendship. Even though he knew what Clark meant to him, Lex wasn't sure of what place he held, what role he should play in Clark's life anymore. "Look, I still have the key to your apartment--I'll go over there and send Michael out to Smallville with some of your things," Lex said in a stern voice that he knew Clark wouldn't argue with. "And I'll talk to Perry for you. One of the small benefits of my father owning The Planet."

Clark breathed out a sigh of relief. He usually tried to avoid having Lex do things for him, but he really needed it today. "Thank you, Lex."

"It's not a problem, Clark," Lex answered firmly. "Just take care of your family."

Night had finally fallen on Smallville and the moonlight peeked through the cheap blinds on the window of Jonathan's hospital room. He was having trouble sleeping, partly from being in such an unfamiliar place, partly from having so many devices hooked up to him. He blinked open his eyes, turning to find his son sprawled out on the chair next to his bed.

"Clark?" he called out, seeing him wake up. "What are you doing here? What time is it?"

"Hey, Dad. It's almost four," Clark answered groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He hadn't been able to sleep himself, but had finally drifted off about an hour ago. "I told Mom to go home and get some rest. I told her I'd stay here with you."

"You didn't have to do that, Clark. You should go home. Get some sleep. Be with your mother."

"I wanted to stay, Dad," Clark said, rising to stretch his legs and back before sitting down again, pulling his chair closer to his father's side. "Besides, it's been a long day for her. I think she needs some time to rest and get her thoughts together."

Jonathan nodded. "She's a strong woman, Clark. And a good woman, too. I'm sorry to be putting her through this."

"It's not your fault, Dad. These things happen. We'll get through it."

Jonathan simply nodded, smiling softly at the vision of his son by his side. He looked so young, sitting there in his old flannel shirt and faded jeans, so much like the boy he had helped raise all these years. "Clark, I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, Dad," Clark said, offering a crooked smile. "I just wish it didn't have to be under these circumstances."

"Me too, Clark," Jonathan replied, returning the smile before he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "But it gives me a chance to talk to you, son. To apologize."

"For what, Dad? I told you, this isn't your fault."

"I know, Clark, but in a way it is. I know I shouldn't have been pushing myself so hard, but after last spring... after you told us about being... about being bisexual--"

"Dad, we don't have to talk about that right now," Clark cut off. Part of him wanted to tell his father the truth once and for all since he didn't know if this was going to his last chance to, but he also didn't want to upset his father the night before major surgery.

"No, Clark, I have to say this," Jonathan insisted. "After you came out to us, I immersed myself in the farm, in working out in the fields and avoiding everything else."

"I know, Dad," Clark said, giving into his father's need to discuss the topic, staring at his old work boots resting on the well-worn linoleum tiles of the floor. "I sort of did the same thing. I guess, like father, like son."

"I shouldn't have gotten so angry with you, Clark. I guess I was just surprised... shocked, more like it. I've always wanted what's best for you, to protect you. I guess every father does that for his son, but with you, I pushed even more because of your powers." Jonathan took his son's hand in his and swallowed the growing lump in his throat.

"I know, Dad. I completely understand. And like I told you and Mom at graduation, I'm considering giving up relationships with men," Clark said, repeating the sentiment he had expressed months ago. He hadn't really come any closer to making that decision, but he thought it might comfort his sick father.

"Please, Clark. We both know that isn't true."

Clark looked up at his father, his eyes wide. He had thought he was doing the right thing by basically lying to them, telling them something he thought they wanted to hear, but all the while, they saw right through him.

"Clark," Jonathan continued, "You were like a gift from heaven when we found you that day in the cornfield--your mother and I thought we'd never have children--and when we realized you were even more special, we treasured you even more, but we also worried about you even more."

"I know, Dad. And I'm thankful that you care for me so much," Clark said, meeting his father's eyes. "Not everyone could take in an alien child and make him part of their family."

"No, I guess not, son," Jonathan said, taking in the image of his only son. Who knew if he would ever see him again? "But, my point is that I guess I was just taken aback by your announcement and just overwhelmed with my need to protect you. I know what it's like to be discriminated against--yes, I may not know as much as other people, but you'd be surprised how people treat you when they just think you're just a poor hick farmer. I never wanted that for you--that's why we worked so hard to send you to school, to give you something more than just a farmer's life. And when you told us about your... you being bisexual, I just got so scared... I just... I just thought maybe if I tried to change your mind, you would and you wouldn't have to face the challenges of being a gay man."

"I know, Dad. I know you were just worried for me. But this is who I am," Clark choked out, his eyes filling with tears, tears of frustration at having to discuss this again and tears of pain for having to do it at a time like this, to see his father like this. "I can't change that."

"I know, son, I know," Jonathan said quickly, trying to comfort his son. He didn't want him to misunderstand. "And I don't want you to. All I've ever wanted is for you to reach your full potential, to grow up to be a good man, honest and moral, a man who works hard and cares about his family, his friends, his community."

"I try, Dad," Clark whispered softly. "I really do."

"I know you do, son. And you've exceeded my expectations a thousand times over. I'm proud of you."

Clark lifted his head to look up at his father, finding the familiar face of the man who he had looked up to for so many years, whose approval he had desperately needed the past year. "Thanks, Dad. You don't know how much that means to me."

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, Clark. I didn't mean to. I'm not perfect. But I love you."

Clark stood up to lean over his father, trying to give him a hug without crushing him, and simply said, "I love you too, Dad."

"Hello?" Clark said in a tired voice, picking up the phone.

"Hey, Clark," Lex said from the other end. "I'm just calling to tell you that I talked to Perry and he said to take all the time you need. And I wanted to make sure you got your things. Michael said you weren't at the house when he came by last night and that he left them with your mom."

"Yeah, I got them, Lex," Clark answered in a flat, emotionless voice. "But I'm going to have to come back to Metropolis anyway. I need to get my suit, my car."

"I can send someone with those things, Clark," Lex said. "You don't have to leave your mom. Besides, your dad should be out of surgery soon, shouldn't he?"

"No, Lex, it's over."

"Already? I thought it was schedule for nine."

"No, Lex, it's over. He's gone, Lex," Clark simply said. "There were complications... they couldn't do anything more... he... he's dead, Lex. Dead."

"I'm on my way." Lex hung up the phone, grabbed his car keys and headed out the door.

"Who was that on the phone, Clark?" Martha asked as she came downstairs. She had locked herself in the bathroom after coming home from the hospital, trying to muffle the sounds of her crying by running all the faucets. She doubted it would stop her super-powered son from overhearing.

"Lex," Clark answered, sitting down at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. "He was checking to make sure I got my stuff last night. I told him about Dad. He's coming to Smallville."

"When?" Martha asked, sitting down next to her son. "We haven't even scheduled the funeral yet."

"Tonight. I told him what happened, he said he was on his way, and then he hung up."

Martha nodded, not surprised at Lex's immediate action. He had learned the hard way not to hesitate in making decisions. "He's a good friend."

"I know. I only wish Dad had lived to realize that," Clark confessed, mourning his father's death and regretting never being able to tell him about the man he was in love with.

"He did," Martha answered, surprising Clark with the truth. "He may not have wanted to admit it, but he did."

Martha looked at her son, his head hung low, his forehead creased in thought and emotional pain.

"So, do you love him?" she asked, sighing.

"What?" Clark said, snapping his head up to look at his mother.

"Do you love him?" she repeated. "I noticed it before, but then, after your announcement last Spring, it all made sense. You always seemed to be attracted to each other."

"We are. I do," Clark answered, shaking his head, a bit bewildered. "We dated for a while during my senior year."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I was scared," Clark said bluntly, shrugging his shoulders. After everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, he was too tired to lie or be scared of what his mother might think. Too bad it was too late to really use this newfound courage. "I didn't know how you would react, especially after what happened when I told you that I was bisexual."

"So you decided to lie to us instead?" Martha said, her voice sounding a bit caustic despite her effort to be understanding. "To not tell us about Lex and say that you were going to give up men?"

"Well, you didn't really give me a reason to do otherwise," Clark shot back.

"I'm sorry, Clark. I didn't mean it to come out like that," Martha apologized. "We shouldn't have reacted like that, Clark. We were just... surprised, to say the least," Martha said, reaching out to place a hand on her son's back. "You don't know how much I regret the things I said to you then."

"It's okay, Mom," Clark said, returning her touch. "It's all in the past now."

Martha smiled at her son, knowing that was too easy of an answer, that they would have the doubly heavy challenge of rebuilding their family after everything concerning Clark's sexuality and Jonathan's death. But, now was not the time to do it. She got up to make another pot of coffee. They would have a long couple of days ahead of them, making funeral arrangements, calling Jonathan's family and friends. They were so unprepared. Who could have predicted that he would have died so young?

"So what happened between you and Lex?" Martha said, trying to avoid thinking about all the things they had to do. "Why aren't you still together?"

"He dumped me. I refused to tell you guys the truth about our relationship and he said he couldn't live like that anymore. He didn't want to lie to you."

Martha stopped rinsing out the coffee pot and turned off the faucet. She rested her arms on the counter, taking in her son's words. So this was what they had pushed their son to. They had made him a liar. He had to lie about his powers everyday and now he was forced to lie about who he loved. Martha sighed to herself as she realized that she had failed him by refusing to accept him for who he was, to be there for him when he needed her most, and he had in turn failed the man he loved.

"He's a good man, Clark," Martha finally said, breaking the silence. "It took us a while to figure it out, but after all these years, I can see that he's a good man. A good friend."

"I know, Mom," Clark answered automatically, still staring into his coffee cup and not seeing the sincerity in his mother's face, how his words had affected her. "And I love him. I just don't think he feels the same way about me. At least not anymore."

"Well," Martha said as she rolled up her sleeves and turned the faucet back on, "if your father passing away has shown us anything, it's that you never know what's going to happen. And definitely not when or how soon."

Almost everyone in Smallville, almost everyone in the county came to Jonathan Kent's funeral. It was a simple ceremony with no eulogy, just his friends and family coming up to the microphone to say a few a words here and there about how Jonathan had been a good friend and neighbor to them all. His body was buried in the town cemetery, the same one where Lana's parents lay, where generations of Smallville residents came to rest. Despite the unending rain and muddy fields, almost everyone stayed until the coffin was completely lowered into the ground and covered up. Martha started back towards the car, motioning to Clark to follow, but Clark shook his head, answering with just a look that said that he needed to be alone, that he needed a moment to say goodbye to his father.

"I was right. I told you when my father died, kings might come to his funeral, but when your father passed, his friends would come."

Clark turned to find Lex standing behind him, dressed in a black suit and blue silk tie, his eyes shining in the falling rain.

"You came."

"Of course I came, Clark," Lex said as he moved to stand next to Clark. "Your father and I didn't always get along, but he was a good man. I had to come and pay my respects. And see that my friend was okay."

Clark nodded, turning back to look upon his father's grave. "You know, the night before the surgery, my father apologized to me. He said he was sorry for reacting the way he did when I told him that I was bisexual. He said he was just trying to protect me."

"He was worried about you, Clark," Lex said quietly as he looked at the grave in front of him. "That's what fathers do."

Clark nodded again at Lex's words. Even after they had become friends again, Clark and Lex pointedly avoided talking about what had happened between them. But Clark was too tired to avoid it anymore. They simply stood before his father's grave, taking in the glaring evidence of a death they had not expected to come so soon. Too soon. "At least I got the chance to tell him that I loved him. I just wish I could have told him that I loved you too."

"You didn't know you wouldn't have another chance to," Lex simply said.

Quiet fell around them, the only sound the gentle falling of rain and the wind in the trees. "Do you think you could ever fall in love with me, Lex?" Clark asked almost casually.

"I'm already in love with you, Clark," Lex said honestly, but still refusing to look at Clark. "I've been in love with you since the day I met you. I've just been terrified of what that might mean. I wasn't lying when I said that I didn't know if I knew how to love anymore. I've lost everyone I've ever loved and I didn't know if I could stand to lose you if I let myself admit that I loved you too. That didn't mean I didn't love you. That I don't still love you."

Clark said nothing in response to these words. Lex hadn't expected him to say anything. Even if Clark was truly surprised at his admission, he knew his friend was too overwhelmed with his loss to react.

"Do you think you could ever love me again?" Lex asked, the need apparent in his voice.

"I never stopped," Clark replied at once. After all the dancing around the topic, talking about it came so freely now in the midst of loss and grief. Everything was said so matter-of-factly, as if nothing was surprising or upsetting or even more significant than the weather. "I can't tell you how sorry I am that I never told my parents the truth, that I couldn't do what was right."

"You made a choice, Clark," Lex said, stating what he had come to accept over the past several months. "You knew what price you might have had to pay for telling them about us and you weren't ready to pay that price. I should have been more understanding of that choice."

"And I should have been more understanding of yours," Clark said. "I shouldn't have expected you to stay with me after I had made my choice."

"You've been more than understanding enough. We've rebuilt our friendship after everything, haven't we?" Lex said, finally looking at Clark.

"Do you think we could rebuild even more?" Clark asked, meeting Lex's gaze.

Lex smiled slightly, almost smirking with some kind of strange satisfaction. "We already have, Clark."

Clark tentatively stepped closer to Lex, searching for a sign that everything might really be okay. Lex took Clark into his arms and lifted his head, offering his embrace, his lips to Clark. Clark lowered his head to finally kiss Lex after all these months, reveling in the warm taste of Lex, made all the sweeter by the flavor of newly fallen rain. When they broke their kiss, Clark nearly collapsed in Lex's arms, something finally giving way in him, and began to cry on Lex's shoulder, slowly at first, then large, heart-wrenching sobs as he shed the first tears since the doctor had told him of his father's unfortunate passing.

Lex held Clark, comforting him and comforting himself by the feel of Clark with him again. When Clark finally pulled away, the both of them soaked through and through by that point, Lex simply smiled reassuringly and took Clark's hand, ready to lead him back home.

Lex dropped Clark off at his house before he headed to the mansion to get out of his wet clothes, promising Clark that he would be back in an hour to be with him and his mother. Clark got out of his wet clothes himself and took a long shower, his body melting under the hot water. Dressed again in his familiar flannel shirt and jeans, he searched for his mother, finding her sitting on the porch, cup of coffee in hand, watching the rain continue to fall.

"I see you and Lex made up," she said hearing the screen door shut behind her son.

"Yeah," Clark answered, sitting down next to his mother. "He said that we had made the choices we had to when we had broken up, but that didn't mean that we didn't love each other. That we didn't still love each other now."

Martha nodded. For Lex's seemingly dysfunctional romantic track record, he seemed to be working things out pretty well with her son. "I'm glad, Clark," she said, before adding, "I hope he treats you well."

"He does, Mom. He does," Clark assured her. "He offered to pay the debts on the farm, give you the money to hire farmhands to take care of all the work. I told him it was okay, that he didn't have to. I told him I'm going to quit my job at the paper, move back home and help you."

"No, Clark, you don't have to do that," Martha said, shaking her head. It would be nice to have Clark back at home even if Jonathan wasn't gone, but she knew that Jonathan's life was never meant to be Clark's. "Your destiny isn't here on this farm. It's in Metropolis, it's at The Planet. It's with Lex."

"I can't leave you here now that Dad's gone. How are you going to run the farm?"

"This farm was never my destiny, Clark," she sighed, getting up to stand at the edge of the porch, looking out over the land that she and her husband had worked so hard to keep all these years. "It only seemed to be because this is where your father was. And now he's not."

"What are you going to do?" Clark asked, rising to stand next to his mother.

"I don't know," she said turning to face her son, but staring blankly into her cup. "The money from your father's life insurance will keep the place going for a little while. I'll probably have to sell it eventually. I could travel. I could go back to work. Who knows? I was Lionel Luthor's executive assistant once after all."

Clark smiled at his mother's comment, looking at the woman who had given up so much for the men in her life. "Maybe Lex could find you something at LexCorp."

"Maybe, Clark, maybe," she said, looking up at her son and smiling. "Don't worry about me. I'll be around. Maybe not here in Smallville, but somewhere."

"Mrs. Kent, Clark," Lex's voice called out. "Sorry to interrupt." As he walked up the stairs, dressed in a gray silk sweater, dark slacks and overcoat, he looked much like the twenty-one-year-old Lex who would often drop by the Kent farm to visit his young friend.

"Lex, it's good to see you," Martha greeted, giving her son's boyfriend a genuine, albeit tired smile. "Thank you for coming to the funeral," she said, pausing before adding, "And for being such a good friend to Clark."

"It's not a problem, Mrs. Kent. Anybody else would have done the same," Lex answered, referring to how he'd helped out the past few days, but hoping that Martha was really referring to all the years Clark and Lex had been friends.

And Martha nodded, knowing that she was.

"Mom says she's probably going to sell the farm. Maybe go back to work. Maybe travel," Clark said as he reached out to hold Lex's hand. Now that they were back together, Clark didn't have to avoid the casual touches he had treasured so much with Lex.

"We're always looking for talent at LexCorp," Lex offered, stepping closer to Clark as he let his fingers intertwine with his. "And there are plenty of opportunities to travel. As little or as much as you want."

"Thank you, Lex. I'll think about it," Martha said. "But we don't have to talk about that now. How about we all go inside for some coffee? Maybe some hot chocolate?" she suggested, heading toward the door.

"I'd love to," Lex said and followed the Kents into their home.

Epilogue

Martha spent the few months after Jonathan's death getting her own life together, organizing her finances, packing away her husband's things and thinking about where her life would take her now. She sold the farm to a wealthy young couple from Metropolis who hoped to make a life together out in the countryside. They paid a fair amount of money for the property, allowing Martha to walk away from the farm with its debts paid and a little money for herself. Martha smiled at the strangeness of it all--only after Jonathan had passed away was the farm finally debt free, but now it was being run by two city folk who had enough money to not just buy the farm, but hire all the farmhands it had needed all these years. Well, at least it didn't go to LuthorCorp, she thought to herself.

She didn't have enough money to travel and get her through much time without a job, but she finally gave in to Lex's requests and let him pay for her to spend a few weeks in Europe, hoping to gain perspective on everything that had happened in the past few months and to refuel before she returned to Kansas to work at LexCorp on Lex's personal team. She certainly didn't want to go back to working for Lionel after his investigation into Clark all those years ago, and she couldn't replace Michael, Lex's right-hand man, but Lex invited her to help out on his personal team of executive assistants--it would give her something to do, finally giving her a chance to really use her degree in business again, and a way to earn money. Lex had offered a thousand times over to take care of her financially, but Martha flatly refused. She could only take so much Luthor help or money--she was Jonathan Kent's wife, after all.

Clark and Lex rekindled their relationship when they returned to Metropolis. While everything that had happened between them occasionally bothered each of them in the back of their minds, Clark and Lex worked to forget the past and seize the opportunity they had been given. Rumors circulated, of course--they became less and less secretive about spending time together, and while they didn't kiss or hold hands in public, the press still noticed the lingering friendly touches, looks, and smiles. And Lex was no longer seen with various beautiful women on his arm at charity dinners and business functions--just with one beautiful man by his side.

Finally, Lex asked Clark to give up his tiny one-bedroom apartment and move into the penthouse. Martha had been working for Lex for a few months now and all three of them had fallen into a new rhythm, one with all of them in Metropolis, working, living and making a new life for themselves and with each other. When Lex asked Clark to move in with him, Clark and Lex were sitting on Lex's expensive leather couch late at night, bodies entwined under the old worn-out blanket Clark used to keep in the loft, lights turned off and television flickering. Clark lay on his back, head resting on the armrest, and Lex lay on top of him, head on Clark's chest, arms wrapped around each other's waists. They were both tired, but neither could sleep, so they simply lay there together as Clark channel-flipped through re-runs and infomercials. Lex hadn't even bothered to raise his head when he asked, his cheek treasuring the soft cotton of Clark's t-shirt.

"Sure, Lex," Clark answered, grinning broadly, but keeping his eyes on the television, watching chicken roast on a mini-rotisserie oven. He practically lived at the penthouse as it was, but he had patiently waited for Lex to ask him, knowing that he couldn't push Lex or just invite himself to move in with him. Clark felt a rush of joy at Lex's invitation, but tried to remain casual and calm.

Lex smiled himself, refusing to look up at Clark, but then turned serious and lifted his head.

"No Clark," Lex said, getting Clark's attention. "When I say `move in with me,' I don't just mean `move in with me.'"

"Okay then, what do you mean?" Clark asked, straightening up to look at Lex better.

"Living together is a big thing," Lex started as he sat up to talk to Clark. "And I don't want to `play house' just because you're over here all the time as it is and it's just more convenient."

"Then what do you want?" Clark asked, eyebrows creased at the mention of the idea that moving in was just "more convenient."

"I want us to be together," Lex said simply. "Completely. Forever."

Clark raised his eyebrows at that, excited about what he though Lex was asking, but surprised nonetheless. "Lex, are you asking me to marry you?"

"Well, Clark, even though the state or federal government won't recognize it, yes, I guess so."

Clark laughed lightly, eliciting a nervous smile from Lex, and said, "Sure, Lex. Sounds great to me."

"Good," Lex said firmly and lay back down, resting his head again on Clark's chest. Suddenly, that mini-rotisserie oven looked like the perfect addition to their (their!) kitchen. Lex wondered if infomercials had gift registries.

"You know, Lex, the press is going to have a field day with this one," Clark said, gently rubbing Lex's back with one large hand.

"Let them," Lex said, sighing at Clark's touch. "I've made a choice and this is what I want."

"Me too, Lex," Clark replied. "Me too."

The End.