The descent from the heavens was a slow, agonizingly beautiful transition from the ethereal to the ground. As Clark drifted downward, his boots eventually meeting the dew-kissed grass of the Parrs' backyard with the silence of a falling leaf, the transition felt almost jarring. For Lana, the world of the clouds, the silver moonlight, and the heat of Clark's embrace felt like a dream that was far more real than the solid earth beneath her feet.
Clark didn't let her go immediately. He kept her tucked against his chest, his heart beating a steady, powerful rhythm that seemed to synchronize with her own. Lana's head was still spinning—not from the altitude, but from the weight of his words. Future wife. The phrase echoed in her mind, a sweet, heavy promise that changed everything.
"You okay?" Clark whispered, his voice vibrating through her.
Lana finally looked up, her face still flushed, her lips slightly swollen from their encounter in the sky. She reached up, brushing a stray lock of black hair from his forehead, her fingers trembling slightly. "I think... I think I'm still up there," she admitted, her voice barely a breath. "Clark, you're a menace. You know that, right? You can't just say things like that and then take me to the moon."
Clark chuckled, a low, rich sound that made her heart skip. "I didn't take you to the moon, Lana. Just close enough to see it clearly." He set her down gently, though he kept his hands on her waist, loath to break the contact. "And I meant every word. I'm a man of steel, remember? My word is just as unbreakable."
Lana pouted, that familiar "yandere" spark returning to her eyes as she grabbed the lapels of his shirt. "You better mean it. Because if you ever try to pull that 'it was just the moonlight talking' crap, I'll find a way to make even a Man of Steel feel pain."
Clark grinned, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to her nose. "I wouldn't dream of it. Now, we should probably get inside before Bob decides to do a midnight patrol."
They snuck back into the house with practiced ease—Clark's super-hearing ensuring they didn't cross paths with anyone in their path. When they reached the hallway where their rooms diverged, the air grew heavy with a different kind of tension.
"Goodnight, Clark," Lana whispered, standing on her tiptoes to give him one last, fleeting kiss on the cheek.
"Goodnight, Lana," he replied, watching her disappear into Violet's room with a soft click of the door. He stood there for a moment, the silence of the house pressing in on him, before retreating to Dash's room, his mind already racing with the future they had just glimpsed.
****************
The morning arrived with the chaotic energy that only the Parr household could provide. The smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee wafted through the vents, acting as a natural alarm clock for the guests.
By the time Clark made his way downstairs, the kitchen was already a blur of activity. Dash was a streak of yellow and red, setting the table at speeds that made the silverware clatter rhythmically. Helen was at the stove, flipping pancakes with a practiced flick of the wrist, while Bob sat at the head of the table, nursing a massive mug of coffee and looking like he was still trying to process the concept of 'morning.'
"Morning, Clark!" Helen chirped, not even looking back from the griddle. "Hungry? I hope you brought that Kansas appetite, because I'm not letting anyone leave this table until the plates are clean."
"Good morning, aunt Helen," Clark said, taking a seat. He noticed Lana already there, sitting across from Violet. She looked radiant, her skin glowing in the morning light, though she was studiously avoiding eye contact with him as she poked at a piece of fruit.
Violet, however, was watching them both with the curiosity of a cat. She had noticed the way Clark's eyes immediately sought out Lana, and the way Lana's ears turned pink the moment he entered the room. There was a shift in the air between them—something more profound than the 'couple' announcement from the day before.
"You guys look tired," Dash said, sitting on the chair next to Clark with a plate already filled with food. "Did you stay up late? I heard the floorboards creaking around one."
Clark didn't miss a beat. "Just getting used to the new sounds of the city, Dash. It's a bit louder than the farm."
Lana cleared her throat, finally looking up. "Yeah, the winds here are... something else. They really take your breath away." She shot a pointed, mischievous look at Clark, who snorted while taking his sip of orange juice.
Jonathan and Martha joined them shortly after, looking rested but carrying a bittersweet aura. Today was the day they would head back to Smallville, leaving Lana and their son in the hands of their oldest friends.
The breakfast conversation was light, filled with Bob's stories of the 'Old Days' and Martha sharing her new recipes with Helen. But the underlying weight of the impending departure hung over the table.
After the meal, as the Kents packed their final bags into the car, Jonathan pulled Clark aside near the garage. The older man looked at his son—no, he looked at the man his son had become.
"You're sure about this, son?" Jonathan asked, his voice low. "The city... it's a big change you know. And staying with the Parrs, it won't always be easy to keep your secret with a family like theirs."
"I'm sure, Dad," Clark said, his voice firm. "I need to learn how to be part of this world since I'm going to help it. And being here with Lana will make things easier."
I hope it does, Clark hoped inwardly.
Jonathan nodded, placing a heavy, calloused hand on Clark's shoulder. "I saw you two this morning. Whatever happened last night, it changed something. Just remember what I told you—a man's strength isn't just in what he can lift, but in what he can protect. Protect that girl, Clark. She's been through a lot already."
"I will, Dad. With everything I am."
Martha's goodbye was more emotional. She held Lana in a long embrace, whispering something into her ear that made the redhead tear up, before turning to Clark and cupping his face. "Call us every Sunday. No excuses. I don't care if you're saving the world or doing homework."
"I promise, Mom."
As the Kents' pulled out of the driveway with the taxi, heading toward the highway that would take them back to the rolling wheat fields of Kansas, a profound silence fell over the group standing on the sidewalk.
Bob stepped forward, clapping a hand on Clark's back. "Well, kid. Welcome to the madhouse. Let's get you guys settled. We've got a lot to go over if you're going to be living under this roof."
Clark smiled at Bob, giving him a military salute. "As you command uncle Bob?"
Bob let out a booming laugh and ruffled Clark's hair. Soon, he jumped to another subject. "By the way. Dash said that you and the lady here are a couple. You kids sure move fast these days."
Lana's face turned a shade of red that rivaled the Kents' barn, and Clark could only rub the back of his head, looking every bit the embarrassed teenager.
Helen immediately elbowed her husband in his midsection for bringing out such a topic right in the middle.
"Don't worry," Helen said, stepping up to take Lana's arm with a conspiratorial wink. "We're not going to judge you or anything. Back in our days, you should have seen how Bob and I used to date. Huh, how time flies by. "
Now, it was Bob's turn to be embarrassed. The big man scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
Lana laughed, the tension finally breaking. She looked at Clark, her blue eyes shining with a mixture of love, pride, and that possessive streak he had come to adore.
As they went back inside the house, she reached out, sliding her hand into his, her fingers interlocking perfectly with his.