Three months later – here

Clark smiled as he arrowed through the upper atmosphere. Life was good. Well, maybe not for the small town in southern California where there'd just been a Richter 7.7 magnitude earthquake, where he was going to help right now. But his personal life was going well.

He had gone public, using his powers openly. He wore the Suit – and he'd gotten the red boots. He had to admit Oliver had been right. The boots did look sharp along with the cape. There had been initial public disbelief, quickly followed by awe, when he saved the prototype space plane from a fiery crash in its maiden flight. After that, Clark had gone around the world, rescuing people, stopping robberies, helping with natural disasters, and getting cats out of trees.

Initially, the media speculation, unsurprisingly, had been intense. So they decided to release information about him slowly. Chloe, armed with the first "interview" had applied for a reporter's job at the Metropolis Star. She didn't bother applying at the Daily Planet – Lex Luthor owned that newspaper. Unfortunately, "Chloe Sullivan" was blacklisted throughout the media world, thanks to Lex Luthor. Even the Star – not owned by Lex – paid attention to Lex's enemies list. It looked as if Chloe's dreams of a journalistic career would be foiled.

Fortunately, Chloe's cousin had come through. When Chloe told her about the blacklisting, Lois had erupted. Lois had disliked Lex before and now she hated him.

Lois had confessed to Clark and Chloe that she really didn't feel right in the investigative reporter job. She liked the society beat much better. The Daily Planet had a house name for its Society columnist. Lois Lane became "Cat Grant". She had a nose for gossip, and "Cat Grant's Column" had quickly become de rigeur reading for those interested in scandal. Frankly, Clark thought, the gossip column was probably the best part of the Planet, now that Lex had owned the newspaper for several years. Lex had systematically gutted the once-vibrant culture, standards, and ethics of the Daily Planet.

To spite Lex, and to make sure that his blacklisting didn't affect Chloe's career, Lois offered Chloe the use of her name as Chloe's pseudonym. When Chloe hired on at the Star, she wrote her articles under the byline of "Lois Lane."

Although Chloe hated having to conform to the Star's sixth-grade reading level, she'd immediately put her stamp on the newsroom and had already made a name for herself with well-researched, hard-hitting stories. Her interview with "Superman" (as she'd dubbed Clark, much to his embarrassment) had of course made the front page.

Clark made a point of speaking to other print reporters, and giving the TV reporters good pictures, so as not to cause undue speculation as to why Chloe Sullivan got all the Superman stories. But he gave Chloe most of the stories. Every day he thanked his stars that he had the Clark Kent identity to hide behind – the media attention was ferocious and never-ending. The Suit attracted cameras like spilled honey attracted ants.

His mother had done her careful, subtle job. When Clark had revealed himself, there was initial panic on Capitol Hill and other places in Washington. Somehow, his mother had defused that. Clark had been invited to speak to the Armed Services Committee in Congress, a committee on which his mother just happened to serve. Clark had gone there, wearing the Suit, and had solemnly assured the curious politicians, the sober military men, and the TV cameras that he meant no harm. He was a refugee from an exploded world, he told them. No one else from Krypton would be coming to Earth. He meant to use his powers for good, as payment of a sort for his place on his adopted home.

Clark had made a point of speaking with most of the committee members and the generals in private. There had been some delicate overtures as to what he could do, and what he intended to do, and could they get him to work for them, or at least not work for the other side? Clark had feigned ignorance, acting clueless to any implication that he might use his powers against humans.

Fortunately, and because of her careful planning, his mother had managed to include herself in most of the tete-a-tetes, and she subtly guided the conversations. She also gave Clark significant looks at regular intervals, reminding him without words of the scenarios they had practiced. His mother and Chloe had drilled him ruthlessly in the proper things to say and the proper way to say them.

It seemed to work. Even the professional paranoia of the military staff seemed to be subsiding as the days passed and Clark did nothing except save people. Of course, Clark knew they were frantically working on contingency plans, just in case. His mother kept him up to date. Chloe would giggle at his mother's reports, during their dinners together.

So far, nobody had discovered that meteor rock – kryptonite – was his weakness. He knew this blissful state couldn't last, but he would make the most of it while he could.

Meanwhile, Clark had re-started his classes at Central Kansas University; he had only a year and half before he got his journalism degree. He found, to his surprise, that his time in the other world with Perry White had indeed been the equivalent of a college education. Now he knew he could write. Perry had whipped him into shape. Clark Kent was good enough to be a Daily Planet reporter. It was just a matter of getting that diploma, so he had the proper credentials.

The re-instantiated, repaired Fortress remained stable. Clark had looked into creating on a trans-universal portal, so he could go back to the other world and find out what happened to the alternate Martha and the others. To his surprise and dismay, he found out that he should have paid more attention to Bernie Klein's ramblings. His Fortress couldn't duplicate the process that had brought him back home. It needed Bernie's unique brand of genius to do that. Clark regretted that he couldn't make sure that Martha and the others were safe. Every day he sent up a silent wish that they had somehow made it home.

He thought about enlisting this world's Bernie Klein, currently engaged in neurosurgical research at STAR Labs. But, in the end, he decided against it. In the other world, everyone had known that Clark was a Kryptonian. It didn't matter if Bernie talked about that. But in this world, Clark's identity as Superman was a closely guarded secret. And Klein burbled. Clark already knew that. If Clark took him to the Fortress and had him talk with Jor-El, as the alternate Bernie had done, this world's Klein wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut either. And then Clark Kent's private life would disappear. And Clark needed his private life. He couldn't be Superman all the time.

On the other hand, Clark had finally convinced Chloe to visit the Fortress. The no-longer-crazy Jor-El had enjoyed her company, and the feeling was mutual. Clark had Jor-El set up a portal so that Chloe could get to the Fortress from either Metropolis or Smallville. If Clark was busy (which happened more and more as he tried to juggle the farm, college classes, and his Superman work), it saved Chloe hours of commuting time.

Clark and Chloe lived at the farm, mostly, but Chloe kept her apartment in Metropolis and kept her car there too. Clark kept his truck at the farm. They had the best of both worlds – the excitement and bustle of Metropolis, with an apartment to stay in if they worked late. Or they could take the portal to the farm, and enjoy the peace and quiet of the countryside without the long commute. Clark loved that they could snuggle together for an extra hour of sleep in the morning and not have to worry about fighting the Metropolis-bound traffic.

Chloe visited Jor-El frequently, often asking him questions and getting the benefit of his advice. Clark had even gotten her to take the Kryptonian download.

After much reluctance, Martha had finally visited the Fortress as well. Jor-El had treated her like a queen, thanking her for the good job she had done raising Kal-El. That had softened her defenses, and Jor-El asking to look at her photo albums of young Clark had done the rest. Clark had arranged a portal from her apartment building in Washington to the Fortress, and from there to the Kent Farm. It allowed Martha to see much more of Clark and Chloe than would otherwise have been possible, even if she had to visit them surreptitiously. She still didn't see them as much as she would have liked, due to her senatorial duties.

Clark hoped that he could get his mother to allow the Fortress to do a medical scan. Clark still hadn't forgotten the bitterness of realizing that the Fortress could heal, too late to save his father. He'd already lost one parent – or three, if you counted Jor-El and Lara. He wanted to keep his mother alive and well as long as possible. Although his mother was still dubious, Clark was working on her and felt he was wearing down her resistance a little bit every day.

Clark crossed the Rocky Mountains, thinking about his time with the Martha in the other world and how she'd helped him learn to fly. Once again, he sent up a silent wish that she was safe and well.

Thinking about the other world brought his thoughts to Lex. He wondered how the other world's Lex was doing. Lex ought to be happy, now that Clark had left his world and the Fortress was gone. But somehow Clark couldn't imagine any version of Lex Luthor being contented.

This world's Lex was definitely discontented. Chloe had asked Jor-El if he retained any information about Lionel Luthor, who had been the Oracle of the corrupted Fortress. Alas, all information regarding Lionel (and the Fortress would have had a lot of it) had been lost when Clark re-instantiated the Fortress in a clean re-boot.

But, despite the lack of data from the new Fortress, Clark and Chloe had managed to bring down this world's Lex Luthor. Chloe had nailed Lex by a fluke. It turned out that Lionel had had secret surveillance in his office, a system totally separate from the usual Luthorcorp security. Lionel had an information technology person handle the surveillance, paying him well, and, Clark assumed, using Jor-El and the Fortress technology to watch the watcher. When Lex used the penthouse office, Lex thought that his sessions were unobserved and unrecorded – after all, Lex had made sure that usual Luthorcorp surveillance protocols didn't apply there. But earlier, Lionel had made sure that there was a record.

When Lionel died, his IT man had been left adrift – and without a paycheck. The computer geek had made the unwise decision to get into drug dealing; he was already a user. He'd used the surveillance computer system, and he'd also worked out of his basement room at the Luthorcorp building. Unsurprisingly, he was bad at dealing, and the police had a line on him in short order. They'd arrested him, gotten a warrant to look at the Luthorcorp basement room, and, more importantly, the computer data.

The cops got quite a shock. They were expecting data on drug deals. What they got was crystal-clear footage of Lex Luthor throwing his father out the window. An open-and-shut case of murder. Lex wouldn't even be able to argue accident or temporary insanity – his actions of making sure there was no surveillance and sending home all the employees on that floor implied premeditation.

Lex was currently enjoying the hospitality of the state, as a prisoner charged with first-degree murder. The D.A. had successfully argued against bail, citing Lex's wealth and resources as making him a serious flight risk. The prosecutor's office knew that Lex would devote his expensive legal talent to discrediting the evidence against him, so the D.A. and her deputies had hurried to secure other warrants based on the probable cause shown on the surveillance footage.

Armed with the warrants, the police had begun a thorough examination of Luthorcorp facilities, projects, and accounts. Chloe had helped here with quiet tips to her contacts in the police and prosecutor's offices. She'd been tracking Lex for years, and she had all sorts of information which, unfortunately, was not legally admissible. Given her help, the investigators were able to bypass most of the traps and false leads that Lex had set for them. And they had managed to come up with some evidence which was legally admissible.

The evidence of human cloning without informed consent and proper documentation was shocking, as was aiding and abetting illegal immigration, with the immigrants effectively becoming slave labor. Luthorcorp had a "dirty tricks" division, where the records (unfortunately for Lex) mysteriously failed to disappear in time, thanks to a little covert action by Fortress technology. Not to mention holding innocent people prisoner. Clark and Chloe knew that these people were "meteor freaks" and some were dangerous, but legally, these people were being unlawfully imprisoned in a Luthorcorp facility. And many of them were being experimented upon, without their consent. The "experiments" might even be called "torture" by some.

The investigators hadn't managed to find Lana Lang. She'd managed to hide herself away very thoroughly. Chloe cynically thought that if they did find her, Lana would immediately volunteer to turn state's evidence to gain immunity from prosecution. After all, she was as complicit as Lex in some of the cases. Clark tried to disagree with Chloe, but found he couldn't, and admitted to himself that Lana had always had an eye out for the main chance.

Clark only hoped that Lana wouldn't turn up and "out" him as Superman. She knew his secret. She knew he was an alien with powers. Clark hoped that the years of affection between them would cause Lana to keep his secret. Chloe, ever the cynic, pointed out that it was in Lana's self-interest to keep the secret – if Clark Kent were outed as Superman, everyone in Smallville, and especially Clark's friends, would be hounded unmercifully by the media. Lana would keep the secret, Chloe predicted. And no doubt, Chloe added, Lana would appear sometime to ask Clark a favor, in return for keeping her mouth shut.

The Metropolis Star was right on top of things, reporting on the dirty cesspool of Lex's misdeeds. Chloe wrote most of the articles, but as the story grew, more and more reporters got involved. The business writers speculated on the hit to Luthorcorp's stock price and what this might mean for unemployment prospects all over the country. The legal experts opined on the charges against Lex and the chances of him beating them. The ethics & religion reporters and the science reporters had a vigorous debate about human cloning and its implications. All of them condemned the human experimentation.

Strangely enough, the Daily Planet lagged in its coverage of the Luthorcorp scandal. After a while it became obvious – their CEO was in trouble, and their usually incisive coverage was lacking.

The board of directors of Luthorcorp – "a bunch of spineless rubber-stampers", as Chloe called them – finally found some fortitude and ordered a full forensic audit of all Luthorcorp departments. They also decided to sell off under-performing divisions. The Daily Planet was one of those, supposedly. Chloe thought that the newspaper was underperforming because it was widely seen as a flabby Luthorcorp propaganda organ, not the keen scalpel exposing wrong-doing that it had once been.

The negotiations were still ongoing, but it was definite – Wayne Enterprises would buy the Daily Planet. Chloe had told Clark that the scuttlebutt was that once the deal went through, Perry White would come over from the Gotham Gazette to become the new Editor-In-Chief of the Daily Planet. Clark was glad to hear that. Maybe this world's Perry didn't know him, but Clark knew a Perry White. The other Perry had been a good friend. Clark hoped that he could develop a similar relationship with this world's Perry. He already knew the essential steel of the editor.

Clark was glad for another reason. When Perry took over the Daily Planet, Clark had no doubt that Perry would instill – or restore – the famous Planet standards. Once Lex no longer owned the newspaper, he and Chloe would apply for reporter jobs there. Chloe would be hired in a heartbeat, Clark knew. She'd made a name for herself as a general reporter with the Metropolis Star, and the fact that she seemed to be Superman's preferred media contact only put the icing on the cake. Any editor would hire her instantly.

Clark wasn't sure that he would be hired. He would be a newbie, holding a journalism diploma with the ink barely dry. On the other hand, good reporters had left the Planet in droves since Lex bought the paper. Clark thought that if he could only get his foot in the door and show Perry some samples of his work, he'd have a pretty good chance of getting the job.

All in all, things had changed since that day three months ago – or a year and three months ago, depending on how one looked at it – when Clark had been moping in his barn, agonizing over being an alien. He'd come to terms with his heritage. He'd cleaned out the corruption in his Fortress, had learned about his birth planet, and had taken his training. He'd grown comfortable using his alien abilities. He had fallen in love with the most fascinating woman he knew – and yes, they did have a physical relationship, a satisfying physical relationship. He'd seen what the world would have been like without him. He'd saved the woman who would have been his mother. He had saved lives. He had restored a devastated world.

He put all that out of his mind. He had another job to do, a Superman job. It was a smaller job than saving the world, but just as important to the people involved.

He arrowed to the earthquake site in California. Clark scanned the town. It had been severely damaged. Most of the downtown buildings had collapsed in the quake. Dust coated the rubble and floated in the air. The emergency responders had managed to shut off the leaking gas line, Clark noted, and now they were working on rescues. Many people remained trapped in the ruins. He could help them – he could find them with his deep vision and he could remove the rubble faster than construction machinery could get here. Hopefully he would be fast enough to save their lives.

He'd found the difference it made when he met humans with the intent of using his powers for good. He had discovered the satisfaction of doing good deeds nourished him spiritually, as sunlight nourished him physically. Whatever his problems were, someone else in the world had worse ones. And he could help them in ways that no one else could. His mother was right – there was more to do than he ever could get done. And yet whatever he could do was enough.

He landed gently amidst the bustle of rescue workers. Surprised faces looked up, and the initial shocked silence was replaced by awed murmurs and excited gossip. There was no fear in their faces, only amazement that Superman had come. His attendance at natural disasters was coming to be an expected thing, but for him to come to their disaster… well, it was unexpected for them.

Clark asked a gawking first responder where the incident commander was, and the speechless EMT pointed out a grizzled man standing nearby. In the last ten years, most cities and counties had practiced their disaster plans, and there was usually a coordinator who directed the efforts. Clark always looked for an incident commander if there was one on the scene. It was always better to work with someone in charge, Clark had found. They knew what should be done, and in what order, and the best way to coordinate with the other rescue workers.

Of course, sometimes Clark had to tell people what to do. Sometimes there wasn't an incident commander, and sometimes the commander didn't have all the information that Clark was able to get by using his abilities. Clark had grown past the milquetoast persona he'd been forced to adopt in the other world, the meekness that reassured everyone there that this one remaining Kryptonian was no threat. Now, back on his own world, he could let his natural personality come to the fore. It still surprised him, just a bit, that people would rush to obey his orders at the disaster scenes. Clark hadn't thought of himself as a leader before he'd put on the Suit. But wearing it had forced him to become one.

Clark headed to the crisis commander, a middle-aged man in a dusty fireman's coat who snapped orders to the gathered police, fire, and medical volunteers. He seemed competent – Clark had learned to recognize that. The commander looked up in surprise. Clark's cape swished behind him. Dust rose up where his boots touched the ground. The gathering grew silent as Clark approached.

Clark saw the confidence in the eyes of those who watched him. Everyone expected him to help. Only Clark knew of a world where people ran from Kryptonians, screaming in terror. That had never happened on this world, and it never would. Superman was not a conqueror. Instead, he had become a symbol of hope, an inspiration.

The incident commander advanced confidently, extending his hand to Clark in greeting. There was no flinching, no cowering. The commander didn't fear the Kryptonian. Instead, there was only a calm confidence that Superman would help. He looked Clark straight in the eye and shook his hand firmly.

"Superman," the commander said. "We're glad you're here."

FINIS

Writing this has been a long process. Many thanks to my fine betas, Leela and Artemis. Their hard work has made this a much better fic. Words can't express my gratitude and appreciation for their efforts.

Thanks also (again!) to Tobiwolf13, who had the original idea. Her fic "Armageddon" sparked the idea for this one – what if Clark got left behind in the alt-Earth after Zod had conquered it? Go and read her fic at Effulgent and Smoking Cool dot com. Trust me, you'll enjoy it.

And last but not least, thanks to all of those who commented. Your input kept me going through the slow times. Your feedback was great and much appreciated.