Chapter Two:

Defining Moments

After everything she had done in her life in recent years, it was odd how the things she looked forward to most always place in this house. As Martha Kent stood in her kitchen, preparing the first Thanksgiving meal she had cooked in five years, she couldn’t ignore the sorrow inside her at spending another holiday without Jonathan. Years had gone since his death and Martha had yet to figure out how to live without him.

His passing heralded the beginning of a lonely and tragic time for Martha and her loved ones. After Jonathan's death, they were inflicted with Chloe’s murder and Clark’s subsequent departure as guilt drove him to train with Jor-El at the fortress. She’d even lost her friendship with Lionel Luthor although why that had happened did not become clear until Clark revealed what the Construct had done. Only when she had learned that the Brain Interactive construct or rather Brainiac had secrecy murdered Lionel, did she understand the reason for his inexplicable indifference.

After that, Thanksgiving was celebrated in Washington, sometimes with Lois, sometimes not and when Lois was absent, the occasion was as empty as this house had been for so long.

This year was going to be different.

While Jonathan was still gone and not stomping about the house, asking whether or not she needed help with Thanksgiving dinner when in truth, he was itching to sit down to watch football with Clark, Martha was still content. Clark and Lois were on their way home, Shelby was nestled comfortably in front of the fireplace and for the first time in too long, Martha felt her world returning to the warm simplicity of her earlier life on the farm.

She prepared all of Clark's favourites because her son was terribly traditional when it came to the Thanksgiving meal. Turkey, pumpkin pie and mashed potatoes, the whole nine yards and you know, Martha loved being able to do it for him. Like the rest of the world, she watched Superman flying across the globe, saving people in a way she was certain Jonathan had always imagined he would someday and couldn't help feeling proud knowing she had some part in all that. Yet cooking for him like this reminded them both that at the end of the day, Superman was still the little boy who had wandered into her embrace and gave her and Jonathan's life so much meaning.

Martha was in the middle of mixing up the stuffing when she saw Shelby's head suddenly lift up from the rug he had been lying against. His floppy ears prickled with interest and familiarity before he leapt to his feet and rushed to the front door, escaping through the doggy door they had installed years ago. Guessing the reason, Martha followed him far enough to catch sight of dark sedan coming down the driveway through the window.

With a happy smile, Martha quickly retreated to the kitchen to wash her hands, wiping them with a dish towel before she went outside to greet Clark and Lois.

*******

"Hey Boy!" Clark greeted exuberantly as he dropped down to his haunches to pat Shelby and scratch the dog behind the ears the way Clark knew he liked. Despite the happy wagging of its tail and its boisterous response to Clark's return, Shelby was starting to show his age, strands of grey were beginning to appear in his auburn fur.

"How you doing?" Clark laughed as the dog covered his face in wet slobbers.

"Ewwww," Lois made a face at the display. "You better wash those lips before you kiss me Smallville," she warned even though she loved Shelby as much as Clark did, despite her allergies.

"Clark," Martha greeted as she stepped out of the house, pausing a few steps away from the couple.

When he saw his mother, Clark straightened up and his expression softened. The only other person in the world Clark could not imagine his world without; he crossed over two her in two easy strides and embraced her. It was an embrace filled with the best of his childhood as well. Holding her, he drew comfort in the familiar scent of her perfume intermingling with warm kitchen aromas that was very distinctively Martha.

"Hi Mom," he greeted, feeling not like the adult, the rookie reporter or even Superman. In her sight, he would always be her little boy and they both knew it.

"It's so good to have you home," she said holding him a little longer than she should, the emotion in her voice palpable. This moment needed Jonathan and it stung that it could never be.

Lois didn't intrude in mother and son having their moment together. She glanced up from where she was patting Shelby and a small smile stole across her face, part affection and part envy. She was happy that they had come back to the farm if only for this reunion.

When they finally parted, Lois gave Shelby a final scratch of his ear before she stood up and stepped forward to make her own greetings.

"Lois," Martha greeted with a warm smile and bundled the young woman with the same embrace though with less emotional heartache. "I'm so glad you're here too."

"You know me, Mrs. Kent," Lois laughed, never able to deal with compliment without diffusing it with self-depreciating humour. "Can't get rid of me that easily?"

Martha joined her laughter, recognising the tactic by now. She'd been pleased when Clark had found Lois as more than just an annoyance in his life. She had always suspected that the former army brat had a vein of steel running through her that matched even a Kryptonian's invulnerability. Without ever being able to explain it, Martha had always known that Lois would handle the SECRET better than anyone believed her capable.

Her sassy no holds barred, abrasive personality was the perfect foil for Clark's brooding, somewhat introverted personality. In Lois' company, Martha saw Clark capable of being himself without the revelation of his alien origins. She'd seen Lois fight for him without any consideration as to what she was facing, knowing only that he needed her and Martha could not have hoped for better than that for her son.

"Come on you two," she gestured both of them to come into the house, deciding that there would be plenty of time to catch up over the holiday. "I've been cooking all day."

"Aw Mrs. Kent," Lois said to her. "You should have waited for me, I would have helped."

"Oh God no...." Clark looked at her dismayed. As much as he loved Lois, cooking was not her in her wheel house, no matter how much time had passed.

"Hey!" Lois protested, punching him on the arm in retaliation, even if it had utterly no effect on him.

"Clark be nice," Martha chided though she knew he was teasing Lois. All this time and they still behaved like the two teenagers they used to be. "Of course, you can help Lois."

"There," Lois made a face at him and bounced up the walkway with one of her bags, leaving Clark with his mother.

Clark watched her go, chest swelling with warmth. God he loved her, Lois never let him have an inch and it was just how he liked it. Not to mention, it was always fun being around her. Even when they fought, it felt like foreplay.

"It's good to have you here," Martha repeated a moment later, linking an arm round his.

"This is home," he stated without hesitation. And it was true. Even though his life was with Lois and Metropolis at the Planet, this farm was his home. Whatever else might change, this place would always be where he'd come to. This place and Martha.

Martha felt a wave of emotion at hearing that. "Yes, it is," she agreed, sweeping her gaze at the house with its yellow paint and rose bushes framing the walkway to the front porch. Jonathan had painted it that colour for her before they were married. It was his way of showing her this was now her home too.

"Mom, are you alright being here alone?" Clark had to ask. "I mean after Washington, this has to be pretty quiet. I don't know if I like the idea of you being here by yourself."

"Honey I'll be fine," she assured him, understanding and touched by his concern at the same time. "I mean there's plenty to keep me busy around here and Ben Hubbard is still around helping with the heavy lifting. Besides, we've leased most of the parcels to other farms these last few years anyway. The farm is still doing what it's meant to."

"I know," Clark nodded but still felt uncertain about his mother spending so much time alone and there was apart of him that felt like a Kent ought to be working this land. No, he couldn't go there, he had chosen a different path and he knew Jonathan would have been the first to tell him so. Returning his thoughts to his mother, Clark sighed, "I just don't want you to be alone. What about Gabe Sullivan? I thought you and he might be you know... close."

As much as he hated to think of his mother dating, it had been five years. She had the right to move on.

"We're just friends Clark," Martha gave him a look; somewhat surprised he'd even thought that much on the subject. It was true that was the extent of their relationship but she knew Gabe would have liked it to be more. However, the unfortunate truth was; Jonathan was a tough act to follow and Gabe knew it. "Sweetheart I'm okay. After Washington, I could use the quiet life."

Clark nodded, letting the matter lie for now but he still wasn't happy about it.

*******

The first Thanksgiving at the Luthor Mansion felt like the first real Thanksgiving Lex Luthor had ever had.

It had been bad enough when Julian died but when his mother passed, what warmth had been in their family drained out of the holiday entirely. He and his father would stare at each other across the elongated table set with a meal fit for a king. Yet it would be a cold, obligatory affair for them both, like it was something that they had to do to keep up the facade they were still a family.

And yet despite it all the pain and manipulation between them, Lex really wished Lionel was here now. A part of him even thought the man would have been happy for him.

The Luthor Mansion was a different place now than it had been when Lex was first been exiled here. He'd hated the place with its oppressive walls and dark decor designed to give it a false sense of history that it did not really have. Lionel had the mansion shipped from Scotland, claiming that it was the Luthor ancestral home. Considering that Lionel had grown up in Suicide Slum in Metropolis, Lex wondered whose ancestral home it really was.

In any case, the mansion had rid itself of the gloomy atmosphere thanks to Lana. She'd gutted the place after they were married. He had given her leave to make this her home and she had; until Lex's prison sentence. Lex tried not to think of that dark period, retaining only the strength it given his character because his life was back on track, where it should have been before that nightmare. Lex had sworn he wasn't going to be mired by the past he could not change. His life was going to be about the future.

Sitting in his study, he saw a small LEGO construct of a space ship resting at the corner of his desk and picked it up, studying it with amusement before he put it down and continued his conversation with Dr. Groll about a real one.

"We've got the extraction crew in place now Mr Luthor," Dr. Groll reported through the webcam image on Lex's computer screen. "The divers will use low yield charges on the outer wall to dislodge it. Fortunately, the water is deep enough for us to get the dredging gear to secure it when it becomes loose."

"Good," Lex nodded. "Have it moved to a secure facility when it's done. I'll be incommunicado for the evening."

"Understood Mr Luthor," Groll answered, aware that his employer had a young family to take care of now. "Happy Thanksgiving Sir."

"Likewise, Doctor." Lex returned before switching off the screen in time to hear soft footsteps running down the hallway of polished wood towards his study.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy!" The little girl burst into the room, dark hair bouncing all over her shoulder, wearing jeans, sneakers and an 'S' t-shirt that just made Lex frown. However, his dislike of that symbol could not stand up to the ball of energy who was bouncing towards him like a stray bolt of lightning.

Since Laura had found that she had what she called 'a real live daddy' like other children, she had demanded that Lex do the things that all daddies did, lifting her over his shoulders so she could fly like Warrior Angel, teach her how to ride her a bike and even build sandcastles with her. It was all very silly and precious but Lex loved it. He loved reading Warrior Angel comic books to her and watching her play dollies on the floor of his study while he worked.

This was all that Lex had ever wanted and knowing that Laura had come to him from Lana, made it all the more sweeter.

"Where's the fire?" He asked as she climbed onto his lap in two easy steps once she reached the desk.

"The parade daddy," Laura reminded him. "Mommy says she has to help with dinner so you have to watch the parade with me."

"The parade huh?" He could help but smile. How was it children could make such small requests seem like it was the greatest thing in the world? He didn't know but he wasn't about to disappoint her. Lex knew he was going to spoil her rotten all her life but he couldn't help it. It was one vice he would happily indulge. "We can do that," he said carrying her. "Do we have popcorn to go with it?"

"Oh no, you don't," Lana Lang Luthor declared reproachfully as she walked into study, staring at Lex knowingly because whatever Laura wanted, he'd cave to. "Dinner's going to be ready in an hour and you don't want to fill out on junk food."

"Sorry Starbuck," Lex glanced at her apologetically before regarding Lana with as much affection. "Do you need any help?" He asked her aware that she was doing it herself. Lana had insisted the staff be given the day off for the holiday, certain they could make do without them for 24 hours. That included the cook.

"Not at all," Lana answered, warmed by the sight of her daughter's around her father's neck, in a scene that Lana had once dreamed off. Her own childhood had been tragic and this day was already unfolding to be what she'd always wanted from her life. "Just keep the Munchkin entertained while I'm cooking."

"You know we could have kept the staff on for the night," he reminded gently.

"No we couldn't," Lana retorted, giving him a look that indicated that the subject was closed. "It's Thanksgiving and they should be with their families, the same way we are. Besides, I've been cooking Thanksgiving dinner for me and Laura for the last five years and it will be no different except this time, I've got a bigger kitchen to work with and you're here." She winked at him affectionately.

Still carrying Laura in his arms, Lex met Lana in the middle of the room and gave her a tender kiss on the lips. "You don't know what it means to me to be here too," he said quietly, his emotions naked across his face.

"I do Lex," Lana's eyes misted over with similar feeling. "It's the same for the both of us."

"Daddy," Laura whined, tugging at his shirt, impatient by the whole display even though it was nice to see Mommy happy, "the parade's starting..." she reminded.

She didn't just tug at his shirt, she tugged at his heartstrings and Lex had no power over those pleading brown eyes. She shared that trait with her mother.

"Duty calls," Lex surrendered with a happy shrug, reminding himself that this was the reward for five years of wrongful incarceration, this life that was everything that he'd ever wanted.

"Wait til you have to sit through the Little Mermaid ten times," Lana smirked, leaving Laura to her father as she retreated to the kitchen once more.

"Thanks," Lex laughed and turned his attention to his daughter. "Come on Starbuck, let's go watch that parade."

*******

As Doctor Groll stood on the crane barge that had initially been brought to the project to remove larger pieces of debris from the ruined dam, he felt the sting of the icy November chill against his face. It was dark and while most people were at home enjoying Thanksgiving dinner, he had no such obligations. The pursuit of science had come at a cost that Groll had not regretted paying, especially during moments like this.

Beneath the dark water of Smallville dam, the find of the century awaited discovery. Luthor wanted the ship ferried away as soon as it surfaced, taken out of Smallville for some nondescript warehouse where they could study it properly. Groll had no problem with that. Like his employer, he selfishly wanted this discovery all to himself and had no desire to share the irrevocable proof of extra-terrestrial life with the world just yet. Not until they had cracked its shell open and wrung out every last drop of information first.

"We're ready Dr. Groll," Sorenson, the Operations manager of LexCorp's special projects team announced as he approached him. Like Groll, Sorenson was dressed in a heavy parka, keeping the cold at bay as much as possible. Of course, this close to the water, in Kansas, there wasn't really much that could keep the cold away entirely.

"Do it," Groll ordered trying to keep the anticipation out of his voice. He wanted to see it, wanted to touch the alien metal under his hands.

Lifting his cell to his lips, Sorenson gave the crane operator the signal. Beneath the dark waters, explosive charges had freed the ship already. After that, the divers had secured the vessel as much as possible with moorings and high tensile cables that were usually used to lift ship containers. The area in which the ship had penetrated the outer wall of the dam was sealed as tightly as possible to avoid further damage to the facility. The instant it had been free of the wall, cubic tonnes of water had come bursting through the cracked concrete and flooded the entire section.

What remained of the wall had crumbled into the river bed and become just another under water debris field. Nevertheless, Groll had taken all the necessary precautions. The dam had been evacuated of all workmen except those needed for the extraction and the rest of the facility protected much as possible. The staff had been told that Mr Luthor wished them to spend Thanksgiving with their families at full pay. Not that Luthor had given any such instruction but Groll was confident that to avoid questions the man would sanction it.

Groll watched as the divers broke surface from the depths and made their way to the side of the barge, wisely getting clear as the crane began to do its work. At Sorenson’s signal, the thick, metal cables from the crane jib began to tighten, groaning with exertion as they started dragging the unseen ship to the surface. He watched as the cable shuddered and tightened, winding around the pulley mechanism, heaving with every length retracted.

Minutes that felt like hours ticked by, excruciating in their slowness. Groll didn't realise he had been holding his breath until the white froth of the breaking surface tension disrupted the reflection on the dark water. The dark red canopy as he called it, appeared first. Gleaming with moisture, it looked almost black as more of it was exposed to the chilly night air.

The water came off it now in, looking like an impossible fountain suspended in mid air. It rolled off the dark hull and dribbled back into the dam, following the angular configuration of the ship. It looked almost exactly like Milton Fine's ship, except this craft was dark red. Groll suspected that if the power was restored, it look like a piece of burning ember from a fireplace.

It was... magnificent.

The boom of the crane began to pivot, bringing the ship towards the barge, away from the water. Droplets of water sprinkled over the deck as the arm swung and the ship rocked somewhat precariously against its moorings.

"Be careful!!!" Groll shouted as he watched it nearing the deck of the barge where the ship would rest. Now that they were so close, he was at his most anxious.

Sorenson seemed to ignore him, continuing to issues orders verbally and threw hand signals to his crew who knew their jobs and their equipment far more intimately than they knew this scientist. The ship was brought safely past the edge of the barge, hovering for a moment above the deck where it was intended to rest before a final order from Sorenson lowered the crane's arm. It touched the metal deck with a loud thud that seemed to reverberate throughout the vessel and in the bones of those on board.

Groll wasted no time moving in, not even waiting for the cables to be detached. He moved immediately to the ship, studying the sleek lines of the thing, constructed from metal he knew would not exist on their current version of the periodic table. Distantly, he called Luthor's order to contact him as soon as the ship was on board but that request seemed far away now, almost inconsequential. Luthor had chosen to be with his family, he had given up his right to be first.

Above the ship, the mechanism holding the cables in place released and they went slack around the ship, like the arms of a mother who knew her child was inherently lost. Groll walked along its edges, following the line of symbols that adorned the wings. The men on the boat also looked on in awe but fear kept them a reasonable distance away. Groll held no such limitations, he was a scientist and there was no such thing as the unknown; just that which had yet to be discovered.

"Dr. Groll," Sorenson warned as he saw the doctor approach it much closer than he liked. He knew the Luthors from years of employment and the son would no less be happier about being usurped than the father.

Groll ignored him, pausing at the hull where the wing met the nose, to study the symbols circling what appeared to be some kind of octagonal panel. Mesmerized by the possibility that this this could be a door, he reached for it.

The reaction upon contact was immediate.

Almost as if the ship were alive and outraged by the interference, it powered up, the brilliant light of its engines turning its reddish hull into a vibrant crimson colour. The symbols lit up, similarly scandalized. The ship shot up a meter above the deck and before coming about sharply. It knocked Groll off his feet, swatting him off the barge like an impudent child before its engines fired fully, incinerating everyone on the deck with a blast of heat. They barely had time to register what was happening before they were dead.

Engines fully functional, the ship escaped into the night, like a shooting star disappearing into the mountains.

******

It was just like old times, Clark thought as he sat at the head of the table with Lois and Martha, getting ready to carve the turkey. Of course, it wasn't exactly like the past, not with Jonathan's absence and moments like this were when Clark felt his loss most profoundly. Still this was not an occasion to mourn, this was a day of thanks and as Clark looked at Lois and his mother, he knew that life was mostly what he'd always wanted it to be.

Before the end of this night, he might even have something else to be grateful for. He gave Lois an enigmatic look before catching Martha's gaze. She knew what he was about as he'd discussed the matter with her earlier when Lois was freshening up. Martha had been thrilled to say the least. Clark hoped Lois would feel the same.

"Come on Smallville," Lois teased, "carve this thing already. I'm starving."

"Alright, alright," Clark gave her a look as he picked up the carving knife, " it's not like you didn't fill up on doughnuts before we got here." He chided.

"That's not real food," she pointed out haughtily, "that's travel food and it doesn't count."

Clark opened his mouth to retort but Martha interceded as always, separating them like warring children instead of two people deeply in love. "Before it gets cold sweetheart."

"You two are ganging up on me," he complained good-naturedly and lowered the blade to the crisp skin when suddenly, something cut through his ears like an ice pick to the brain.

The scream in his mind, was so piercing, so desperate that Clark staggered back from the table, his face contorting into a grimace of pain as he reached for his ears, trying to block out the sound only he could hear. He hadn't heard the chair behind him hitting the floor as he knocked it onto its back or the fact that both Martha and Lois were on their feet, demanding what was wrong.

"Smallville! What is it"? Lois demanded cold fear in her eyes as she stepped towards him.

It was amazing how quickly some things returned to Martha after raising a Kryptonian for twenty years. "Clark," she caught him by the arm, "what's happening to you?" She could tell by the way he was clutching his ears that he was hearing something, something that neither she or Lois was privy to.

"It's screaming!" Clark shouted over the sound, hands still covering his ears to block out the noise. "It's screaming for help!"

Confused, Lois asked the obvious, "whose screaming?"

Clark met her eyes and replied, "The ship. The ship is screaming for help."

TO BE CONTINUED