The sun hangs low in the Kansas sky, casting a warm, golden light over the fields that stretch endlessly in every direction. The air is crisp with the scent of freshly tilled earth, the kind of smell that reminds Clark of simpler times—of long days spent working the land, of evenings on the porch with his mother, watching the world settle into twilight. It's a peacefulness he hasn't felt in a long time, and now, standing here at the farm with Nevaeh and Martha, he feels a deep sense of contentment.

The farmhouse, a sturdy structure with chipped white paint and a sagging roof, has seen better days. But it's home—Clark's home, the place where he grew up, where he learned about love and family, where he discovered who he was and who he wanted to be. The house had been taken from them, repossessed when times got tough after Jonathan's death, but now, thanks to Bruce Wayne's considerable resources, it belongs to the Kents once more.

Clark chuckles softly, recalling the conversation earlier when he asked Bruce how he managed to get the house back.

"I bought the bank," Bruce had said with a casual shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Clark had laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, but deep down, he wasn't surprised. Bruce had always been a man of action, someone who got things done, no matter the obstacles. And in this case, his actions had given Clark back a piece of his past, a place where he could start to rebuild his life.

Now, as Clark helps carry boxes into the house, he watches from the corner of his eye as Martha and Nevaeh talk near the porch. Martha, ever the perceptive one, had noticed Nevaeh's quiet strength, the way she carries herself with a grace that belies the battles she's fought. It hadn't taken long for Martha to see the same kindness in Nevaeh's heart that she saw in her son's—a kindness that had drawn her to the young woman almost immediately.

Nevaeh is different, Clark knows that. She's not from this world, just as he isn't. But there's something else, something deeper—an old soul, a warrior's spirit tempered by loss and longing. It's a part of her that Clark understands all too well, a part that connects them in ways words can't fully capture.

From where he stands, Clark can see Martha gently placing a hand on Nevaeh's arm, her face soft with understanding. He's too far away to hear their conversation, but he doesn't need to hear the words to know what's being said. He can see it in the way Nevaeh smiles, a small, almost shy smile that lights up her eyes, and in the way Martha's expression shifts from concern to warmth, to acceptance.

Martha's voice, soft and steady, carries across the yard, "You've been through a lot, haven't you?"

Nevaeh nods, her gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before she meets Martha's eyes again.

"I have," She admits, her voice tinged with a quiet sorrow, "More than I'd like to remember."

"But you're still standing," Martha says, a note of pride in her voice, "That says a lot about who you are."

Nevaeh's smile grows a little, and she glances over at Clark, who pretends to be busy with the box he's carrying, "I guess it does."

Martha follows her gaze, her own smile widening as she looks at her son, "You know, Clark's always been the strong one, too. Not just physically, but in here," she taps a hand over her heart, "He's got a heart of gold, just like his father.".

"Clark's lucky to have you," Martha continues, her voice filled with maternal warmth, "I can see how much you care about him. And he cares about you, too. It's in the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you. You're special to him."

Nevaeh looks down, her cheeks flushing slightly at Martha's words.

"He's... special to me too," She says softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "More than I can even put into words."

Martha's smile is one of knowing, a smile that comes from years of watching her son grow, of understanding the depth of his emotions. She reaches out, taking Nevaeh's hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze, "You both deserve to be happy, Nevaeh. And from what I can see, you make each other happy. That's what matters most."

Nevaeh squeezes Martha's hand back, her heart swelling with gratitude, "Thank you, Mrs. Kent."

Martha chuckles, waving off the formality, "Please, call me Martha. We're family now."

Family. The word hangs in the air, warm and comforting. It's a concept Nevaeh hasn't truly felt in a long time, not since she was exiled from Asgard, from the only family she'd ever known. But here, in this moment, standing with Martha Kent, she feels it again—this sense of belonging, of being part of something bigger than herself.

Clark watches the exchange from a distance, his heart swelling with pride and love. Seeing Nevaeh with his mother, seeing them connect in such a deep and meaningful way, fills him with a sense of peace he hasn't felt in a long time. He knows how much Nevaeh has struggled, how hard it's been for her to find her place in this world, but here, in Kansas, in the home he grew up in, she seems to have found a piece of herself she thought she'd lost.

As he stands there, watching the two women he loves most in the world bond, Clark can't help but smile. This is what he fought for, what he came back for—not just to save the world, but to find moments like this, moments of quiet happiness, of love and connection. He knows the road ahead won't be easy, that there will be challenges and battles yet to come, but for now, in this moment, he allows himself to simply be—be present, be content, be at peace.

Martha releases Nevaeh's hand, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder, "Now, why don't we go inside and start unpacking? I could use a strong pair of hands, and I know Clark could use the help."

Nevaeh laughs softly, the sound light and melodic, "I'd be happy to help."

As they turn to head inside, Clark finally approaches, setting down the box he's been pretending to organize. He slips an arm around Nevaeh's waist, pulling her close as they walk towards the house. Martha walks ahead, humming a soft tune, leaving the two of them a moment of privacy.

"Everything okay?" Clark asks, his voice low and gentle.

Nevaeh nods, leaning into him as they walk, "Yeah. Everything's... more than okay."

Clark smiles, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Good. Because you're stuck with us now, you know."

Nevaeh smiles, her heart swelling with warmth, "I think I can live with that."

As they step onto the porch, Clark pauses, turning to look out at the fields, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the land. This is home—his home, their home. And as he stands there, with Nevaeh by his side, he knows that this is where they're meant to be. Together.

And for the first time in a long time, Clark feels whole.

The Kansas sky is a canvas of vibrant colors as the sun sets, painting the horizon with shades of orange, pink, and purple. The air is cool, a gentle breeze rustling through the tall grass that surrounds the old farmhouse. The world feels quiet, almost still, as if time itself has slowed to a peaceful crawl. In the middle of this serene landscape, Clark and Nevaeh lie side by side in the field, their bodies nestled close together, their hands entwined.

Clark's arm is wrapped around Nevaeh, holding her against his chest. Her head rests on his shoulder, her body fitting perfectly against his as they watch the sky slowly shift from day to night. The quiet moments between them are filled with a sense of belonging, of finally being where they are meant to be. The weight of the world, of battles fought and wounds healed, is absent here, leaving only the pure, unfiltered love they share.

Nevaeh's fingers trace lazy patterns on Clark's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath her touch. She's lost in the rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting reminder that despite everything they've been through, they're still here—together. Clark, in turn, gently strokes her arm, his touch light and tender, as if afraid to break the delicate spell that binds them in this moment.

The sky darkens, the first stars beginning to twinkle above them, and Clark's voice breaks the comfortable silence.

"This feels like a dream," He murmurs, his lips brushing against Nevaeh's hair as he speaks.

Nevaeh smiles, her eyes still focused on the heavens above.

"A good dream," She replies softly, her voice filled with contentment, "One I don't ever want to wake up from."

Clark shifts slightly, tilting his head to look down at her. His eyes are soft, filled with a love that runs deeper than words can express, "Neither do I."

For a long time, they just lie there, soaking in the peace of the moment. There's no need for words, no need to fill the silence with anything but the sound of their breathing, the gentle rustling of the grass, and the occasional call of a distant bird. The world feels right, as if all the pieces have finally fallen into place.

Eventually, Nevaeh breaks the silence, her voice barely more than a whisper, as if she's sharing a secret with the stars.

"Erika..." She says, the name rolling off her tongue with a mix of nostalgia and sorrow, "My name was Erika. It came from Asgard."

Clark tightens his hold on her, his heart swelling with the weight of what she's just shared. He knows this is more than just a name; it's a part of her past, a piece of the person she was before everything changed, before she became Nevaeh. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head, a silent acknowledgment of the significance of her words.

"But your name is Nevaeh now," He says softly, his voice steady and filled with love.

Nevaeh nods, the motion small and almost imperceptible as she burrows closer to him, seeking the warmth of his embrace.

"My name is Nevaeh," She repeats, her voice firm, as if she's claiming the name for herself, owning it in a way she hadn't before.

Clark's lips curve into a small, tender smile. He shifts again, turning so that he can look into her eyes, his hand gently cupping her cheek.

"It means heaven," He says, the words carrying a deep significance, a truth he's always known in his heart.

Nevaeh's eyes search his, her own smile slowly spreading across her face as the meaning of the name sinks in.

"It means heaven," She echoes, her voice barely more than a breath, filled with the weight of everything she's been through—her past, her pain, her redemption.

There's a moment of quiet understanding between them, a shared acknowledgment of the journey they've both taken to reach this point. And in that moment, they both know that no matter what name she goes by, no matter what her past holds, she is here, now, with him, and that's all that matters.

Slowly, almost reverently, Clark leans in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tender kiss. It's a kiss that speaks of love and acceptance, of a future they're both ready to embrace together. Nevaeh's hand comes up to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him closer as she deepens the kiss, pouring all of her love, all of her trust, into that simple, perfect moment.

The kiss lingers, the world around them fading away until there's nothing left but the feel of each other, the taste of each other, the promise of forever held in their embrace. When they finally pull apart, both are breathless, their foreheads resting together as they share a quiet laugh, a sound filled with pure joy.

"Thank you," Nevaeh whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

Clark raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at his lips, "For what?"

"For being you," She says, her hand tracing the line of his jaw, "For seeing me, for loving me... for everything."

Clark's smile softens, his hand coming up to brush a stray braid away from her face, "You don't need to thank me for that, Nevaeh. Loving you... it's the easiest thing I've ever done."

Tears prick at the corners of Nevaeh's eyes, but they're tears of happiness, of relief, of finally feeling like she belongs somewhere, with someone who sees her for who she truly is. She leans in, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then his lips, before resting her head against his chest once more.

"I love you," She says, the words carrying the weight of everything she feels for him, everything she's never been able to put into words before now.

Clark's arms tighten around her, holding her close as if he'll never let her go, "I love you too. Always."

In the stillness of the night, surrounded by the gentle whisper of the wind and the distant hum of the earth beneath them, they find a peace that's been hard-won, a love that's unbreakable, and a promise of forever that they're both ready to embrace.

High above, in the realm of Asgard, where time flows differently and the stars shine with a brilliance unknown to mortals, Odin Allfather sits on his throne, one eye fixed on Midgard. A raven, one of his loyal companions, perches on his shoulder, its dark feathers shimmering with a subtle iridescence. The raven's otherworldly gaze is focused on a small patch of land far below—on a farmhouse in Kansas, on a field where two souls lie entwined, lost in the tender embrace of love.

Odin watches them with a calm, contemplative expression, his weathered face softened by a smile that few would ever see. He observes Nevaeh, his wayward child, as she lies beside the man she has given her heart to. In the past, he might have seen this as a moment of weakness, a distraction from her true purpose, but not now. Now, he sees it for what it truly is—a moment of profound strength, of love that transcends the boundaries of worlds and lifetimes.

The raven tilts its head, its sharp eyes reflecting the scene below as Nevaeh and Clark whisper softly to one another, their voices lost to the wind but not to Odin's ears. He listens to their words, to the tenderness in their voices, and his smile deepens. He has watched Nevaeh from afar, seen her struggles, her pain, and her moments of doubt. He has seen her fall, time and time again, only to rise stronger each time, her spirit unbroken, her heart still capable of love despite all that she has endured.

There is a quiet pride in Odin's chest as he watches Nevaeh now. She is not the same warrior who once stood before him, defiant and filled with rage. She has grown, evolved, become something more—something greater than the sum of her past. She is no longer bound by the chains of her old identity, no longer defined by the name she once carried. She is Nevaeh, and she is worthy.

The raven lets out a soft, almost imperceptible croak, its beak opening as if to speak, and in that moment, Odin's voice fills the air, carried on the wings of the bird. His words are a whisper, gentle and ancient, filled with a power that transcends the mortal realm.

"You are worthy of Valhalla," He murmurs, his voice laced with a deep and abiding affection.

Down below, in the field, Nevaeh's eyes flutter closed as a breeze brushes against her skin, carrying with it the faint echo of Odin's words. She stirs slightly, her brow furrowing as the whisper reaches her ears, so soft and distant that she can barely make out the words. She feels something stir within her, a warmth that spreads through her chest, but she doesn't understand the meaning of the whisper, doesn't recognize the voice that speaks to her from beyond.

Clark notices her slight movement, his arm tightening around her in response.

"What is it?" He asks, his voice low and concerned, as if sensing some unseen presence.

Nevaeh opens her eyes, gazing up at the stars that now blanket the sky, twinkling like a thousand tiny fires. She shakes her head slowly, a small, confused smile tugging at her lips.

"I... I'm not sure," She says softly, her voice carrying a note of wonder, "For a moment, it felt like..." She trails off, unsure how to put the feeling into words.

Clark studies her face, his eyes filled with love and concern. He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin as if to reassure her, to let her know that whatever it is, he's here, and she's safe.

She turns her head slightly, her gaze meeting Clark's, and in that moment, all her doubts, all her fears, seem to melt away. She sees the love in his eyes, the unspoken promise that he will always be by her side, and she knows, deep down, that she doesn't have to carry the weight of the world alone anymore.

They lie there in silence for a long time, just holding each other, letting the peace of the moment envelop them. The world around them fades into the background, leaving only the sound of their breathing, the steady thrum of Clark's heartbeat beneath Nevaeh's ear, and the quiet rustling of the wind through the grass.

Above them, the stars seem to glow a little brighter, as if the universe itself is acknowledging the bond between them, the love that has brought them together across time and space. The raven on Odin's shoulder ruffles its feathers, its eyes never leaving the scene below, its dark form blending seamlessly into the night.

Odin watches for a moment longer, his heart swelling with pride and affection for the warrior who has found her way home, not to Asgard, but to the place where her heart truly belongs. He knows now that her journey is far from over, but he also knows that she will face whatever comes with the same strength and courage that has always defined her.

As the night deepens and the stars continue their silent vigil, Odin finally closes his eye, his smile lingering as he withdraws his gaze from Midgard, content in the knowledge that Nevaeh has found her place in the world, a place where she is loved and cherished for who she truly is. And as he does, his voice echoes one last time, a whisper on the wind, a blessing that only the stars hear.

"Rest, my child. You have earned your peace."

Nevaeh, unaware of the divine presence that has watched over her, sighs softly, her body relaxing into Clark's embrace as a deep sense of contentment settles over her. She knows that whatever comes next, she is ready for it, because she is no longer alone. She is loved, and she is worthy.

Clark tilts his head, looking down at her with a smile that radiates pure affection.

"You're smiling," He says softly, brushing a stray braid away from her face.

Nevaeh nods, her eyes shining with unshed tears, but they are tears of joy, not sorrow.

"I am," She whispers, her voice filled with the warmth of a heart that has finally found its home.

Clark presses a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips, each touch filled with a tenderness that makes her heart swell. When he pulls back, he gazes into her eyes, his own filled with a love that is as vast and endless as the sky above them.

They fall silent again, their bodies nestled together as they watch the stars, the night stretching on, peaceful and serene. The future is uncertain, and they know that challenges will come, but for now, in this moment, all that matters is the love they share, the love that has brought them together and will keep them together, no matter what.

And as the night deepens, as the world around them slips into slumber, Nevaeh feels a warmth in her chest, a sense of peace that she hasn't felt in years. She doesn't know what the future holds, but she knows that she is ready for it, whatever it may bring. Because she is not just Erika of Asgard, not just a warrior or a Valkyrie.

She is Nevaeh, and she is home.

As the first light of dawn begins to creep over the horizon, Nevaeh and Clark lie in each other's arms, the warmth of their love wrapping around them like a blanket. The sky is still dark, the stars beginning to fade as the sun slowly rises, but in this moment, it feels as if the world is standing still, holding its breath in anticipation of the new day.

And in the silence of the early morning, with the world still and quiet, Nevaeh hears a faint whisper, a voice carried on the wind, so soft that it could almost be imagined.

"You are worthy of Valhalla."

The words echo in her mind, a distant memory of something she can't quite grasp, but the meaning is clear. She is worthy, not because of the battles she has fought, or the enemies she has defeated, but because of the love she carries in her heart, the strength she finds in her vulnerability, and the courage she shows in choosing love over fear.

As the first rays of sunlight break through the darkness, Nevaeh smiles, a soft, peaceful smile that speaks of acceptance, of healing, and of hope. She turns her head, gazing at Clark with eyes filled with love, and in that moment, she knows that she has found her true home—not in Asgard, not in Valhalla, but here, with him.

And as the sun rises, painting the sky with the colors of a new beginning, Nevaeh and Clark share a kiss, a promise of forever that will carry them through whatever the future holds.

Because together, they are strong.

Together, they are home.