Chapter 25

The golden wheat fields of Smallville stretched out as far as the eye could see, swaying gently in the warm Kansas breeze. The Kent farmhouse stood as it always had, a beacon of simplicity and warmth amidst the rural landscape. As Clark's pickup truck rumbled up the dirt driveway, Misty couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Are you sure they'll like me?" she asked, fidgeting with the hem of her sundress.

Clark reached over, taking her hand in his. "They'll love you, Misty. Just be yourself."

As they stepped onto the porch, the screen door swung open, revealing Martha and Jonathan Kent. Their faces lit up at the sight of their son, and they enveloped him in a warm embrace before turning to Misty.

"You must be Misty," Martha said, her smile warm and welcoming. "We've heard so much about you."

Jonathan extended a calloused hand. "Welcome to our home, young lady."

Dinner was a lively affair, filled with laughter and stories. Martha's home cooking was everything Misty had imagined and more. As they finished up the apple pie, Clark's expression grew serious.

"Mom, Dad," he began, his voice low. "I think it's time we talked about your safety."

Jonathan's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, son?"

Clark took a deep breath. "I think it's time for you to go off the grid. Completely."

A heavy silence fell over the table. Martha and Jonathan exchanged worried glances.

"But Clark," Martha protested, "this is our home. Our life."

"I know," Clark said, his voice thick with emotion. "But things are getting more complicated. There are people out there who would use you to get to me. I can't risk that."

Clark also decided it was time for the formation of a base of operations. He hadn't done much with the ship under the barn, but he was sure there was much to be gained by utilizing it.

Especially after securing the first member of a team he was putting together.

Jonathan leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving his son's face. "You've changed, Clark. What happened?"

Clark's gaze dropped to his plate. Misty reached out, squeezing his hand supportively.

"I... I made a mistake," Clark said quietly. "I've dealt with situations like this before, but...To save lives, I had to take one."

Martha gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth. Jonathan's expression hardened, not with judgment, but with concern.

"Son," Jonathan said, his voice gentle but firm. "Look at me."

Clark raised his eyes, meeting his father's gaze.

"You are a good man, Clark Kent," Jonathan continued. "The fact that this weighs on you so heavily proves that. We raised you to value all life, but we also raised you to protect those who can't protect themselves. Sometimes... sometimes there are no easy choices."

Clark wanted to agree, but he had been in similar situations prior that had ended in less damaging outcomes. Nobody died. Was he making excuses? He could've taken his hand off, but instead he...

Martha reached across the table, taking Clark's other hand. "We trust you, Clark. If you think we need to disappear for a while, then that's what we'll do."

Clark's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Thank you," he whispered.

Later that night, as the farmhouse creaked and settled around them, Clark and Misty lay snuggled up together in his childhood bedroom. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over them.

Clark broke the comfortable silence, staring up at the ceiling. "By the way, I saw that speech at Believe," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. "You'd make a great motivational speaker."

Misty rested her head on his chest, a playful lilt in her voice as she replied, "Oh, who would've thought the great Superman, the embodiment of motivation himself, had an eye for motivational talent!"

Clark chuckled, appreciating her sarcasm. "Funny. Maybe I'll ask you for some tips on strength sometime."

Misty laughed, giving him a playful nudge. "Check out my bench, darlin'. I'm a force to be reckoned with."

They continued to exchange stories, Misty recounting her encounter with a vigilante in the deep South.

"You wouldn't believe it," Misty said, her eyes wide with excitement. "This guy came out of nowhere, wearing a mask and everything. He was like a real-life superhero, swooping in to stop a robbery. I swear, he even had a catchphrase!"

Clark grinned. "Did he really? What was it?"

"Something like 'Justice never sleeps!' It was cheesy but kind of cool, too," Misty replied, laughing at the memory.

Clark shook his head with a smile. "And here I thought I had a monopoly on the superhero gig."

"Hey, maybe you should take notes," Misty teased, nudging him playfully. "Could help you spice up your routine."

Clark laughed, then launched into his own tale. "Well, speaking of adventures, I met a homeless man on a mission to find the perfect cheeseburger. He swore it was the key to happiness."

Misty raised an eyebrow. "Did he find it?"

Clark nodded, grinning. "He did, at this little diner on 5th. He took one bite and said, 'This is it, the cheeseburger of my dreams!' It was like watching someone find buried treasure."

They both burst into laughter, the room filled with warmth and the sound of their joy. 

Eventually, a comfortable silence once again, fell between them. Misty propped herself up on one elbow, her expression growing serious.

"Clark," she said softly, "I want you to know something."

He turned to face her, his blue eyes questioning.

"I love you," Misty continued. "All of you. The hero, the farm boy, the journalist. And what happened at the bank... it doesn't change that. You saved lives, Clark. The fact that you're struggling with it, that it weighs on you – that's what makes you human. That's what makes you the man I love."

Clark pulled her close, burying his face in her hair, and kissing her. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

But even as Misty's words soothed him, Clark couldn't shake the darker thoughts that had taken root. A part of him – a part he was afraid to acknowledge – whispered that maybe it wasn't so wrong. Is it truly possible to never take a life? Even when the situation calls for it?

He would take a break as Superman, a short one of course. Just so he could come to terms with his actions. Clark wanted to root out the thoughts that had been plaguing him since then... 'What if sometimes, the end justify the means?'