Epilogue – "Return to Normalcy?"

Clark rested his head against the soft wooden beam in his loft. He gazed out the open barn window, looking at the setting sun. He always made sure to appreciate how beautiful they really were. He'd missed out on about a week's worth of sunsets and sunrises during his adventures in the United Kingdom.

For a moment, Clark shut out the image of the sunset and meditated for a moment. He'd seen so much death recently. He guessed that it would come back to haunt him, though none of the murders were committed by his hands. How long could he go before he was the one with the blood on his hands? Or when his means of fighting could no longer be justified? His meditation was interrupted by footsteps.

"Clark? Am I interrupting?" It was Lex.

"No, of course not. C'mon up," invited Clark. "Something I can do for you?"

Lex shook his head. "Nah. I just needed somewhere to clear my head. Then I remembered what a great view of the sunset your barn had. Good to see I didn't miss it yet."

Clark nodded. "How've you been lately?"

"I still can't get over the fact that, apparently, I was transforming into a wolf. I don't think Sheriff Adams can get over it either." Lex looked at Clark. "But I had a dream last night about it. It was real vivid, like a memory. I was strong, and fast. And I had hair, I was thankful for that."

Clark laughed.

"I killed my father." The laughter stopped. "And as punishment, his ghost came back and haunted me, catching me at my weakest. A giant bolt of lightening came and struck me down. Amazingly, I survived, but I was a vegetable for the last two seconds of the dream before I woke up."

Clark shifted uncomfortably. "Lex, I know you have some issues with you dad, but if it really came down to it, would you consider him... well, evil?"

"Evil? No, of course not. Misguided. Obsessive. In my case, neglectful. But not evil. If the ying-yang theory is correct, even the darkest of people have a touch of good in them. I like to think that goodness is shown in him by his not disowning me. Likewise, all good people have a touch of evil in them. I'd like to see what your dark side is like," commented Lex.

Clark wouldn't. He was already very familiar with his dark side – expressed every time he was exposed to red kryptonite. "What about your dark side, Lex? Do you steal pens from the bank? Use public toilets without flushing? No, I got it, you leave the refrigerator door open, don't you?"

Lex grinned, "I've been exposed!"

There was silence for a long, uncomfortable moment. Clark finally spoke up. "So... is this werewolf business finally behind you?"

"Well, I was treated with that serum they extracted from the plant you left. Since then I haven't turned into a werewolf. I'd say that's pretty good indication that I'm cured, wouldn't you?"

Clark shrugged, "We'll have to wait until the full moon to find out."

"Even so, I can say with confidence that I'm cured. Remember my high white blood cell count?"

"Yeah, I forgot about that..." murmured Clark. More silence.

The sun finally hid behind the horizon.

Lex prepared to leave. "Well, sunset's over and I have work to do. I have to release a new brand of fertilizer by the end of the month. Not to mention I have to fill out some paperwork to pay the guys who fixed the Talon after all that damage that Edward Drake and me caused. Good talking to you, Clark."

"See you later," said Clark. He sat on his couch and picked up a book, flipping through the pages to see if it was any good.

Clark took one last look through the loft window and saw the first star of the night. He didn't make wishes on them any more, and he found that he didn't have a wish to make anyway. Everything was perfect as it was: normal.

Well, that was incorrect. He did have one wish: that the souls of the Drake family may rest in peace now that this horror was over. It sounded more like a prayer really, but Clark took comfort in it.

For a moment, Clark felt completely at peace, despite recent events. And it wasn't just the Ireland deal that bothered him. He was still haunted by his actions in Metropolis over the summer – all caused by his biological father, Jor-El. He would never admit that though. He would always blame himself, even if he knew it wasn't his fault. Such was the burden that came with his superpowers.

But, for that moment, nothing disturbed him. He didn't know if some hormone or enzyme had been released by his alien body system, but something inside of him – something good – soothed him. Something that had a soft voice letting him know it would all be okay.

It felt good.

And it made him feel... normal.