It Runs in the Family 
By: C. Leuch <isuleuch@hotmail.com> 
Rated: PG-13 
Submitted: August 2002 
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This is the fifth story in my next gen series profiling the 
coming of age of Lois and Clark's children. It's not 
absolutely necessary to have read the rest of the series to 
understand this, but they contain some back-story that I 
will be referring to here. Thanks go out to my beta 
readers, Missy and Anita, who've been great helps. Hope you 
enjoy the story, and feel free to send feedback!

Warning: there is a minor WHAM in this story

A note of the time frame: this takes place in the summer 
after Dawn of Discovery, before Summer Vacation. So, as 
much as I love them, there won't be any Jenny or Susan or 
Diane. But that doesn't mean that they won't be back in 
some later story, we'll see.

Standard disclaimer: the characters of Lois, Clark, and 
Superman are not mine, but those of their children are. No 
copyright infringement is intended.

***********************************************************
*************

As the world began to come into focus, the greens and blues 
and browns that had blurred in her vision began to 
materialize, and she realized that she was standing in the 
middle of a forest. Lush trees towered above her, filtering 
out the light and obscuring the crystal blue of the 
cloudless sky above. On the ground, a fallen tree trunk ran 
parallel to the dusty path that she found herself on, and 
varying layers of green underbrush stretched off as far as 
the eye could see in either direction. The only sound that 
could be detected was the rustle of the leaves in the wind, 
and the quiet beating of her heart in her chest. She didn't 
know how it was that she had ended up in the middle of a 
forest, far removed from civilization, but she figured that 
it would probably be wise to start heading back to wherever 
it was she came from.

The path was really no more than a narrow, dirt trail, 
winding into the forest both behind her and in front of 
her. No footsteps marked where she had been, and nothing 
gave her any clue as to where she should go. Even the rays 
of the sun, slanting down through the leafy canopy above, 
gave her no sense of direction. She couldn't tell if it 
were morning or afternoon, summer or early autumn. When it 
came down to it, she was on her own, and had a fifty/fifty 
shot of choosing the correct direction. Taking a deep 
breath, she turned, and then looked to her left and right 
down the path. With a sigh, she pivoted and stuck out her 
foot, deciding at last to just commit to a direction and 
start.

As soon as her foot hit the ground, she bounded up into the 
air, the effects of gravity suddenly almost nonexistent. 
Upward she arced until her eyes were almost parallel with 
the upper branches of the trees, then she fell weightlessly 
back toward earth. As her foot hit the ground again, she 
pushed off, sending herself even higher into the air. Birds 
flew from the trees as her head cleared the canopy, and she 
could see the green of the forest stretching below her. As 
the effects of gravity began to take hold again, she willed 
herself upward, breaking the fall. Her path took her 
further into the air, and she couldn't help but stick her 
arms out to her side as the ground fell away. The curvature 
of the earth became apparent as she looked toward the 
horizon, the forest beneath her adding texture to the 
ground line. She laughed as she gained speed, righting her 
course and heading toward the horizon. As she continued to 
fly, the forms of buildings began to pop up above the 
ground in the distance, the tall skyscrapers that she was 
so familiar with looking almost like toys from so far away.

As she turned her attention below, she could see groups of 
deer bounding through the underbrush along paths very much 
like the one she had just been on. The birds that remained 
in the trees seemed almost startled to see her in the sky, 
and with very good reason, she figured. It wasn't every day 
that a normal 15 year old girl just took off into the air, 
yet here she was. With a whoop, she turned a barrel roll 
and closed her eyes, relishing the freedom she felt. As she 
tried to open her eyes, though, a loud buzzing sound 
pierced her consciousness. It sounded suspiciously like an 
alarm clock, but there wouldn't be any of those in the sky 
above the forest. She willed the sound to go away, but the 
harder she tried, the more frustrated she became. Finally, 
she pried her eyes open, and saw it. The alarm clock, 
happily buzzing away, sitting on the nightstand next her 
bed, just like it always had.

Laura groaned as she sat up and slapped the snooze button 
on the alarm clock. It had been that flying dream again, 
only this time it had seemed so much more vivid. Rubbing 
her eyes, she looked around and reminded herself that it 
couldn't be real - by all appearances, she was still bound 
by the laws of gravity, just like everyone else. And a 
normal, everyday girl such as herself always would be, she 
figured. After all, the only people who could fly were the 
supermen, and she certainly wasn't related to them. Even 
so, it was a very nice dream, one that she was always more 
than happy to have.

Her eyes returned to the glowing face of the alarm clock, 
this time making note of exactly what time it was. It 
almost seemed cruel having to get up at 7 in the middle of 
summer, but she supposed that certain sacrifices needed to 
be made if she was going to accomplish her summertime goal. 
Still, she thought as she heard voices coming from the 
other side of her bedroom door, she had to relish these 
summers, because once she grew up they'd be gone. Ask her 
brother Jon - every time he came over, he let her know just 
how lucky she was. She didn't have a job, she didn't have 
responsibilities, just a whole summer to have fun. And do 
all the chores around the house that her mother assigned to 
her. And take this driver's education course, which was 
only offered in the early morning, and started today.

Shaking her head, she cleared away the last vestiges of 
sleep, deciding once and for all that she was awake. She 
swung her legs around and climbed out of bed, hesitating as 
she crossed the room and rested her hand on the doorknob. 
The sun was peeking through the crack underneath, 
illuminating an irregular rectangle of floor in that overly 
cheery morning light that she hated so much. Stepping into 
that would be painful, but there really wasn't any way of 
avoiding it, she supposed. With a deep breath, she opened 
the door and prepared for the onslaught, stumbling blindly 
into the hall and the morning light.

"Morning, sunshine," she heard her dad say from what 
sounded like very close. Prying her eyes open, she squinted 
against the light and turned toward the sound of his voice. 
He looked positively cheery standing just inside the door 
to his bedroom, smiling at her. His tie was blinding in its 
own right, and she had to look away, the colors too much to 
take for her still weary eyes. How was it possible that 
they were related, she wondered. His fashion sense was 
positively embarrassing, although her mom seemed to like 
it, and he seemed so...chipper in the morning. He seemed 
chipper a lot of the time, actually. That infectious humor 
and good natured personality sure seemed to have manifested 
itself in her brothers, but she wasn't that funny, or 
upbeat, or personable, especially not in the morning. Maybe 
she WAS adopted.

"Mmmpf," she answered as she trudged toward the bathroom, 
vaguely aware of the amused smile it brought to his lips. 
It was probably just as well that her parents were normally 
at work when she went to school. Now that her brothers had 
both gone off to college, she usually had the house to 
herself on school mornings, so she was free to ease herself 
into the day. Having them around, though....

"Laura, we're leaving in half an hour. If you want that 
ride, you better get a move on," she heard her mother say 
from the depths of her bedroom. Yeah, this one was off to a 
great start. Slowly but surely, she readied herself, 
stumbling into a pair of clothes before making her way 
downstairs and grabbing herself a bowl of cereal. Her 
parents cuddled and whispered between sips of coffee as 
they waited for her, and she just sighed and rolled her 
eyes, trying to put it out of her mind. Trying to find a 
time when they WEREN'T cuddling and whispering was a 
challenge, she thought as she shoveled another spoonful of 
cereal into her mouth. At least they didn't do it much in 
public. That would be truly embarrassing. After a while, 
they quit, and her mom straightened her dad's tie before 
they finally turned their attention to her.

"So, are you looking forward to your very first driver's ed 
class?" her dad asked. She shrugged and took another bite 
of her cereal. "Would you like to go out driving tonight?" 
he continued, making her pause. She looked up as him, 
curious. There was a note of something in his voice, 
although she couldn't say exactly what. The suggestion was 
rather innocent, but he sounded almost nervous as he said 
it. Looking up at her parents, she noticed that they both 
wore strange expressions, ones that didn't seem to match 
the question that had been asked.

Laura chewed for a moment, pondering what that meant. They 
were probably concerned about the car, she figured. Jon and 
CJ had shared the "kid car," as her dad had called it, and 
now that car was residing somewhere in Gotham City. All 
that was left for her to drive was either the Jeep or the 
good car, both of which were a lot nicer than what most 
kids her age would ever be allowed to drive. Yeah, they 
must be worried about the car, especially since she had 
never technically driven before. With a smile, she looked 
at them and tried her best to calm their nerves.

"That would be great," she said with forced perkiness, 
noticing how that seemed to put them at ease a little. Her 
mom squeezed her dad's shoulder, and the morning went back 
to its normal routine. She soon found herself in the back 
seat of the Jeep as they made their short drive to the high 
school. Her parents talked about work stuff on the way, and 
she found herself ignoring them in favor of pondering her 
upcoming driving lessons. The more she thought about it, 
the less nervous she was about the class, but driving with 
her dad tonight would be kind of interesting. They didn't 
always have much time to do things alone, but when they 
did, she usually had fun. But by definition, something that 
involved instruction couldn't be fun, could it? Usually 
not, but that was where her dad was a genius - he could 
make anything fun. Falling over when learning to ride her 
bike as a kid should've been painful, but all she could 
remember was the happiness and the laughter. Learning 
algebra certainly shouldn't have been fun, but they way her 
dad taught it, it was. But this time around, there was a 
lot at stake if she messed up, and considering the 
expression he had worn this morning when talking about 
taking her driving, she wondered if it might just be 
awkward this time instead.

"We're here," her dad said, drawing her out of her 
thoughts. She looked out the window and, sure enough, there 
was the high school. Grabbing her backpack, she mumbled a 
hasty goodbye and exited the car, closing the door just as 
she heard her dad tell her to have a nice day. The jeep 
took off as she approached the school, and suddenly she 
felt almost lonely. Summer classes, by virtue of the time 
of year that they were held, generally weren't large, and 
so far the only other person she had seen at the school was 
standing by another entrance. Somehow she had figured there 
would more people here to greet her as she embarked on her 
first real high school class.

The doors loomed as she moved closer, all of a sudden 
seeming very imposing. It was silly to think of this 
building as being threatening in any way, especially since 
her memories of the few functions she had attended there 
were generally good, but this was different. This was her, 
in HIGH SCHOOL; not junior high, not a special school, but 
high school. This was big time. In a way, being in high 
school meant that she wasn't really a kid, that she was 
expected to be more mature, and she didn't really think she 
was ready to give up the kid inside of her.

Laura stared at the doors for a moment before giving 
herself a mental shake. It was a school, for goodness 
sakes, and one lousy summer class with other kids the same 
age as her. With a determined mindset, she yanked open the 
door and went inside, entering the gloomy hallways and 
taking refuge from the bright morning sun. It took a moment 
for her still-tired eyes to adjust to the fluorescent glow 
of the hallway, but as soon as they did, she was off, 
taking measured strides down the main hallway en route to 
her class. This wasn't so bad, she told herself. Nothing 
threatening so far. In fact, it was probably better that 
she was getting initiated into high school like when there 
were no upperclassmen around to rag on her and the rest of 
the newcomers. Right now, she owned this hallway. With a 
new confidence, she looked around, surveying her 
surroundings. The rows of lockers seemed to stretch on into 
infinity, broken only by the occasional classroom door. 
Above the lockers were framed photographs of kids, some of 
which were obviously a few decades old. Others, however, 
seemed newer, and as she walked along, she scanned the 
faces, until, suddenly, she saw one that was all too 
familiar.

There, smiling down at her from the upper reaches of the 
wall, was the very young face of her brother Jon. Her 
progress came to a screeching halt as she gaped at the 
picture, moving closer to it so that she could read the 
engraved brass plaque beneath it. "All state band member," 
it read, listing the years that he had made the band. Well, 
THAT was no pressure, she thought as she began to inch her 
way down the hallway, her eyes still on the picture. SHE 
was in the band, and she knew the director was the same one 
that Jon had had. So, because Jon had set the bar so high, 
the director would naturally think that she would also be 
all state material, and she just wasn't sure of that. No 
pressure at all, she thought with a grunt. She'd only have 
her brother's face looking down on her every day to remind 
her of what people thought she'd be capable of.

As she turned the corner into a different hallway, a new 
set of pictures greeted her. Looking at the title of the 
photo gallery, her stomach began to clench up. "Academic 
Excellence," it read, meaning all the people looking down 
on her had gotten 4.0 grade point averages throughout their 
high school careers. She knew what was coming even before 
she saw it. Slowly but surely, her eyes finally located the 
picture of her brother CJ. That show off. At least Jon 
wasn't here, too, she thought. Still, two brothers, two 
honors, and now all eyes were on her. She could see it now 
- she'd walk into a class, one with a teacher her brother 
had had, and the teacher would invariably remember what he 
had done, and she would be expected to do as well as him 
academically. The problem was, her brother, although a bit 
goofy and strange, was very smart, smarter than she was, 
she knew. It would follow, then, that she wouldn't meet 
expectations, and she would be considered a failure, a 
blight on the family legacy. What a great prospect to have 
for high school, she thought gloomily as she turned the 
corner again. Be more of an overachiever than her brothers 
or be a disappointment. Wahoo.

Her mood was decidedly gloomy as she reached the driver's 
education room. She could almost feel the eyes of her 
instructor boring into her as she found a desk, his inner 
thoughts undoubtedly telling him that she was another 
member of the talented Kent clan and imbuing her with 
certain characteristics because of that. At least her 
colleagues didn't have the same preconceptions, she thought 
as she looked around. She had known a lot of these people 
for the better part of her life. Her mood perked up as she 
saw her good friend Stacy walk through the door, 
immediately making eye contact with her and waving. Maybe 
that was all there was to this high school thing, she 
thought as Stacy sat down in the desk next to hers. Forget 
about your problems and surround yourself with friends, and 
everything would just fade into the background. Still, as 
they talked about their activities of the summer, she 
couldn't help but think about those photographs, and the 
legacy that she would have to live up to.

***

Laura leaned back in the overstuffed car seat, keeping her 
eyes firmly out the window as her father continued to 
drive. For whatever reason, she had imagined herself doing 
more of the driving during their outing. As it was, he had 
been driving for a good twenty minutes, the buildings of 
the city thinning out as they continued through the suburbs 
and out of the city. It only figured that he would want to 
go as far into the country as possible, considering his 
earlier concern for the car - the further they went, the 
less there was to hit. She didn't know whether she should 
be insulted about the lack of trust that showed, or to be 
grateful about the pressure that it would take off of her.

"So how was your first driver's ed class?" her dad asked, 
breaking the silence in the car. Laura smiled slightly and 
looked toward him, glad for the break from her thoughts.

"We didn't do much," she said with a shrug. "The teacher 
gave out the schedule and the book, and then sent us on our 
way."

He glanced over to her, flashed a brief smile, then turned 
his attention back toward the road. "Bet it felt strange to 
be taking classes at the high school," he said, and Laura 
found herself not knowing how to answer. Strange was 
definitely one way to put it. In one long walk through the 
halls, all the confidence she had always had for school 
seemed to get sucked out of her, replaced with a dread of 
what was to come and the sudden celebrity she would no 
doubt have. She'd never really felt pressured to succeed 
before, to live up to any precedent set by anyone, but now 
suddenly she did. It wasn't fair to CJ and Jon to blame 
them for putting her in that position, but at the same 
time, it was hard not to. So now the threat of relative 
failure loomed over her head, and she'd only been in school 
for a day. The feeling of gloominess began to take hold of 
her as she watched the city flash by outside, and she felt 
the sudden urge to blurt out all her problems, whether it 
would darken the mood in the car or not. Her mouth opened 
to say the words, but as she looked over toward her dad, 
she closed it again. It didn't take a genius to figure out 
what he would say. He'd undoubtedly tell her that he and 
Mom would love her no matter what, and that she wouldn't be 
a failure so long as she tried her best. Even thinking 
about the words comforted her, bringing a smile to her 
face. Suddenly, the urge to burden him with her problems 
just seemed to die.

"I remember when I was in high school, you couldn't start a 
new school year without a couple of freshmen being stuffed 
into a locker...." her dad said, causing Laura to realize 
that she hadn't actually said anything in response to his 
last statement. "The older kids would do things like try 
and get the freshmen to buy an elevator pass, even though 
we went to a one story school," he continued, his voice a 
bit nostalgic.

"I thought those kinds of things were just urban legends," 
Laura said with a genuine smile, the dark mood chased away 
by yet another one of her dad's stories.

"I think there has to be some book out there that gets 
passed on to bullies throughout the generations about just 
how to torture new high school students. Ask your mom, ask 
your brothers - it just wouldn't be the first day of school 
without someone's gym shorts ending up at the top of a 
flagpole."

She laughed at that, marveling how it was that he could 
always chase away her dark moods. "Well, it IS just summer 
school. I think all the bullies are off planning for 
August." As she spoke, she noticed that they were pulling 
into a county park. After driving through the city, the 
dense growth of trees interspersed with grass clearings 
dotted with picnic tables almost seemed foreign. The road 
they were on wound through the park until it reached a 
small lake bordered by a large, sandy beach and an empty 
asphalt parking lot.

"Here we are," her dad said as her turned off the ignition. 
As he unfastened his seat belt, he dangled the keys in 
front of her, and Laura could only gawk at them for a 
moment before she finally took them. She was embarking on 
her first driver's lesson, and she had never so much as 
pulled the car out of the garage before. With a gulp, she 
climbed out of the car and walked around the front, meeting 
her dad halfway. As they passed each other, he laid a hand 
on her shoulder, halting her progress. She found her eyes 
searching out his, and locking into them. The hand on her 
shoulder suddenly gave a reassuring squeeze, and a 
comforting smile formed on his face.

"You'll be just fine," he said in that soothing way of his, 
instinctively knowing what was troubling her. "It's always 
hard doing something for the first time, but I trust you." 
With that, he nodded and dropped his hand, continuing 
toward his side of the car.

Trust, Laura thought. It felt good to know that she held 
his trust, but at the same time, something seemed out of 
place. As she continued on toward the driver's door, she 
remembered her parents' nervousness at the mention of this 
lesson. Maybe they had had time think about it and change 
their minds, she thought as she sat down. It wasn't as if 
she was wild and irresponsible, after all. If anything, she 
was a little too reserved, cared a little too much what 
people thought of her. The worries she held about high 
school only proved that, she thought. So it was only a 
matter of time before her parents decided that she was 
trustworthy.

As she closed the door, her father instructed her on just 
how to start off. Put the key in the ignition, adjust the 
seat, fasten her belt, and adjust the mirrors. In a matter 
of minutes, she was on her way, cautiously piloting her car 
through the parking lot, and later through the roads of the 
park. She drove for at least half an hour, and by the time 
she finally pulled the car over and relinquished the keys 
to her father, she was feeling very confident about her 
skills as a driver. Climbing out of the car again, she 
noticed her dad heading for the trunk. Puzzled, she stopped 
to watch as he pulled out a small cooler, then motioned for 
her to follow him to a nearby picnic table.

"What's this?" she asked with a chuckle as she jogged to 
catch up with him.

"Snacks," he said nonchalantly. She sent a confused glance 
toward him, then shrugged. It was all part of the 
experience, she supposed. Happy memories of trips to the 
ice cream shop and the Fudge Castle flashed in her mind, 
and she had to smile. Part of making things fun was 
satisfying the legendary Kent sweet tooth, and this was 
just a more mundane way of doing that. It was all the 
better, she thought, since her mom wasn't there to try and 
accuse them of fattening her up. It was just the two of 
them, doing father-daughter type stuff, and Laura would be 
lying if she said that she didn't look forward to moments 
like these.

As they sat down, the cooler was opened, revealing a 
treasure trove of snack cakes and junk food. Laura absently 
reached for an oatmeal round, quickly opening the wrapper 
and taking a bite.

"Congratulations on a successful night of driving," her dad 
said as he pulled a cupcake out of the cooler, holding it 
up in a mock toast to her.

"Well, everything is still in one piece, so I guess it went 
okay," Laura responded with a wide smile. He grinned at her 
as he tore the wrapper away from his cupcake, finally 
diverting his eyes as the smile began to fade from his 
face. "As driving lessons go, I'd say it went better than 
okay. You couldn't ask for a better spot," he said as he 
looked around, surveying the trees surrounding them. Laura 
found her eyes following his, and she couldn't help but 
appreciate the setting. She had initially been curious 
about why they had come out here, but after driving on the 
secluded roads and enjoying the scenery, she found it 
wasn't a mystery at all. Plus, it was no secret that her 
dad was still a bit of a country boy at heart, and she knew 
that he actively sought out places like this in Metropolis, 
small islands within the city where he could almost feel 
like he was out in the country again.

The sound of a sigh brought her attention back to him, and 
she noticed that a small frown had worked its way onto his 
face. After a moment, he seemed to notice her eyes on him 
and his expression immediately transformed into one of 
good-natured happiness, but Laura wasn't fooled. She knew 
when her dad was obsessing about something, and this was 
certainly one of those times. Her eyebrows knitted together 
as she looked down at the oatmeal round in her hand. Why 
did she get the feeling that the snacks and the trip to the 
country weren't all about driving after all?

"It's certainly nice and private out here," she said, 
dropping the not-so-subtle hint that she knew that not all 
was right with the situation. The forced smile on her dad's 
face faltered somewhat at that, and he sighed again, 
apparently knowing better than to try and delay whatever it 
was that he wanted to say any further.

"Quiet, too," he said with a raise of the eyebrows. In a 
nervous gesture, his free hand came and ran though his 
hair. "The perfect type of place for fathers and daughters 
to sit down together, maybe discuss some things," he said, 
his expression almost pleading with her. Yup, this was 
definitely not about the driving lessons.

"What kinds of things?" she asked with a bemused half 
smile. It was odd how her father seemed to have this other 
side to him that she was seeing now, a side so alien to the 
confident father she was used to. Her whole life she had 
seen her dad as being goofy, funny, and a kid at heart. But 
at the same time he was also very much in charge, and had 
that whole fatherly aura around him, the type that made her 
almost feel that he could do no wrong. But every now and 
then he would step out of character and get nervous about 
something, although most of the time she knew that he tried 
to keep it from her and her brothers. The only reason she 
knew about those moods at all was because she had 
eavesdropped on her parents one night and heard her father 
agonizing over something. While it couldn't say that he was 
agonizing over anything right now, he also wasn't confident 
or funny, at least not on purpose.

"Well," he said, pausing to collect himself. "You're 
getting older, and growing up, and with that comes certain 
changes that you might not be aware of...."

Laura reached out for his shoulder, cutting him off. The 
urge to laugh was almost unbearable, but she held it in, 
thinking that it could hurt his feelings. All this build 
up, all the nervousness, it made sense now. He wanted to 
talk to her about the birds and the bees!

"Dad," she said, drawing a puzzled look from him. "You 
don't have to tell me. I already know."

"You do?" he asked, looking almost horrified. The case of 
the giggles that she was holding back died suddenly as she 
felt a burst of affection for him. It was funny how his 
old-fashioned midwestern upbringing manifested itself 
sometimes. In this day and age and in this city, girls knew 
about the facts of life long before they turned fifteen, 
but the fact that he seemed somehow shocked at that was 
very endearing.

"Yeah, we talked about it in school. I know all about 
puberty and all that." Laura looked away as her cheeks 
reddened. This was definitely not the type of subject that 
girls should be talking about with their fathers. "Me and 
mom talked about it, too. I'm actually kind of surprised 
she didn't tell you."

The sound of his gentle laughter interrupted her thought 
process, and looked up. Her dad was shaking his head, a 
genuinely amused smile on his face. When he caught her eyes 
on him, he looked up at her, the tension that had been 
present before completely absent now. "I can't tell you how 
grateful I am not to have to give THAT speech, believe me," 
he said before taking a bite of his cupcake. He looked at 
her thoughtfully as he chewed, the relative silence of the 
woods descending upon them.

"I wasn't talking about puberty, though," he said after a 
few seconds, the smile slipping off his face. "There are 
some things about your family that your mother and I 
haven't told you about, and that's why I brought you here."

What could he possibly need to tell her about the family 
that would require bringing her all the way out here, she 
wondered. Her family was as normal as they came, a fact 
that she lamented on a daily basis. Yes, her brother was a 
genius, and her other brother was pretty smart, too, but 
that wasn't odd, not really. And her parents were minor 
celebrities around Metropolis, but that wouldn't 
necessarily impact on family matters. She could go crazy 
analyzing different situations, she finally decided. Give 
her another minute and she was sure that she could convince 
herself that someone was dying. With great effort, she 
pushed the speculation out of her head and gave her father 
her undivided attention.

"When I was your age, my parents sat me down at the kitchen 
table and told me about how I came into their lives," he 
said after a moment. "I had always known that I was 
adopted, but I had never bothered to ask how or why. When 
you're a kid, sometimes you assume things, and I had always 
just figured that I had been dropped at my parents' 
doorstep one day, a gift to a couple that obviously wanted 
children very badly. I guess in a way, that turned out to 
be true. But I never could've imagined that it had happened 
the way it did."

Laura leaned over and placed her elbows on her knees, 
cradling her head in her hands, absorbed in the story. "It 
was dark out, my parents said, when they saw what they 
thought was a shooting star streaking across the sky," he 
continued, his eyes distant. "As they watched, it grew 
closer and closer, finally roaring over the top of their 
truck so closely that they could feel the heat from it. The 
meteor crashed in a nearby field, and my parents rushed 
over to investigate. They had expected to see a misshapen 
rock of some sort, but what they found instead was a tiny 
ship, and a baby. Me."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. There had to be a 
punchline here somewhere. "Babies don't just fall from the 
sky," he continued, taking the thought right out of her 
mind. "They didn't question their good fortune, though. So 
they took me in and raised me like a normal child. After a 
few years, though, they began to realize that I wasn't a 
normal child. I stopped getting sick. I stopped getting 
hurt. I started lifting objects that even my dad in his 
prime couldn't even think about lifting. Odd things 
happened to me, scary things. When I hit puberty, I started 
being able to hear sounds from the next house over, even 
though that house was over a mile away. One day I was 
looking at something in the barn and it burst into flames. 
I didn't know what to think about it, until my parents told 
me the truth about my origins."

Laura knew her jaw was hanging open. The story sounded 
fantastic, like something out of a bad science fiction 
novel, but her dad had never lied to her before, and the 
emotion in his voice told her that he wasn't lying to her 
now, either. A little voice in the back of her head kept 
trying to tell her just what it was that her father was 
saying, but she pushed it away. It was too fantastic to be 
true, wasn't it?

"It was only years later that I found out the whole story," 
her father continued. It was only as he turned and met his 
eyes with hers that she realized that she had been staring 
at him. "Laura," he said, placing his hand on her knee. 
"I'm not from Earth. I come from a place called Krypton, a 
planet several million light years away, a planet that no 
longer exists. My birth parents sent me away to save me 
from the fate of Krypton, and that's how I ended up in a 
spaceship in the Kansas plain all those years ago. My 
Kryptonian heritage has made me different from everyone 
else, and there are so many things that I can do, wonderful 
things, and maybe someday you'll be able to do them, too. I 
use the abilities I have to help people, but I never, ever 
let anyone know it's me.

"I am Clark Kent, that's who I am, always remember that. I 
am your father, hopefully I am your friend, and I love you 
and your mother and brothers with all my heart. But when I 
go out to help the world, people only know me 
as...Superman." His jaw set as his expression became 
resolute, and Laura felt herself go cold. She searched his 
face, desperately looking for signs that he wasn't being 
truthful, but she found nothing. Her eyes searched the 
forest, looking for hidden cameras, but she didn't find any 
of those either. Again she turned back to him, trying to 
summon some sort of emotion. She knew she should be 
shocked, or horrified, or angry or insulted or any number 
of things, but she just didn't feel anything, and that 
scared her.

"That can't be true," she finally rasped. His expression 
turned almost apologetic as he pulled his hand from her and 
stood slowly, removing the glasses from his face in one 
fluid motion. It was funny how she had never seen him 
without the glasses, she thought as she shivered 
involuntarily. Her eyes were studying his now-bare face 
when suddenly his form turned into a blur, and it was 
Superman standing in front of her, not her dad. But, 
strangely, all she noticed was his face, and how it hadn't 
changed at all. His expression was still soft and 
sympathetic, his eyes still the same kind eyes that she had 
always known.

"I want to show you something," he said, holding out his 
hand as he slowly walked toward her. Out of instinct, she 
reached out to him, and he gathered her into his arms. Just 
then, the world fell away from them, and the trees and 
grass of the park morphed together until there were a green 
rectangle below her, integrated into the web of streets 
that crisscrossed the ground below her. She forced herself 
to look up, and saw the Metropolis skyline in all its 
glory, reflecting the orange hues of the late evening sun 
and sparkling like a gem. It was breathtaking, she thought, 
better that any of the dreams she had ever had.

"It's so beautiful," she whispered as they came to a stop, 
hanging in midair directly above the park they had been in.

"The whole world is beautiful from up here," her dad said, 
and she smiled. "One of the greatest things of being who I 
am is the ability to see the world from above, where 
everything is so much less chaotic. Someday you may know 
that joy yourself. Just remember when you start 
experiencing all the strange things that come with growing 
up as my daughter, how wonderful it can all be in the end." 
They hovered in the air for a few more minutes, before they 
descended slowly to the ground in the same clearing where 
they had started. Her dad set her on the ground, and she 
felt a gust of wind. Looking behind her, she saw that he 
was once again dressed as himself, and she suddenly felt 
more at ease.

"I guess we should head home," he said as he walked over to 
the table and gathered up their snacks. Laura rushed over 
and grabbed a handful of treats out of the cooler before it 
was closed up, drawing a bemused look from her dad. For 
whatever reason, she felt like she needed some chocolate. 
Lots of chocolate.

As they sat down in the car and headed for home, Laura once 
again turned out the window, absently watching the city go 
by as she munched on her treats. She tried to think about 
what had just happened, she wanted to think about what had 
just happened, but she just couldn't. It was all too much, 
and it still seemed unbelievable. A part of her wanted to 
say that none of it had happened, and she began to wonder 
if she was still in the middle of one of her dreams, but 
the things that she had felt, the details she had seen, had 
been so much more vivid than in any dream she had ever had. 
Maybe later she could think about it and decide how she 
felt, but in the meantime, she sat in silence, ignoring the 
slight feeling of tension that had developed in the car. It 
would all be okay tomorrow, she told herself.

***

Slowly, the car pulled into the garage, and Laura forced 
her mind back to the present. As it came to a stop and she 
climbed out, she took one last, long look at the rapidly 
darkening sky as the garage door slowly blocked away her 
view. She didn't want the outside world to go away, she 
didn't want to lose that one place that her mind could 
escape to. The last thing she wanted to do right now was 
confront her parents inside the house that she had known 
her entire life and be forced to have to reexamine 
everything she had ever known as a result. Even the most 
mundane memories would be colored by the fact that her 
father was someone and something other than she had 
thought. Whether that was wrong or right was irrelevant, 
she thought with a sigh. She knew herself well enough to 
know that it would happen, that it was inevitable, and she 
wanted just a few more precious moments to remember what it 
felt like to be normal.

That thought almost caused her to break down in a fit of 
hysterical tears, but she shoved them roughly away, her 
pride not letting her break down in front of her father. It 
was a sad thought, though. She had always taken for granted 
the fact that she was just an ordinary teen with an 
ordinary family, and for some sick reason she had secretly 
wished a little excitement for herself. If she only knew 
then what she knew now.... Maybe someday she'd laugh at 
those memories, but right now all she could do was feel 
sorry for the innocence that she had lost.

Abruptly, her subconscious willed her morbid chain of 
thought to stop. Slowly, she walked toward the door leading 
into the house, applying all her effort to pasting a 
neutral smile on her face and clearing her mind. She 
followed her father inside, through the foyer, and into the 
living room, where her mother sat at the roll-top desk, 
deeply engrossed writing something or another. The sound of 
their approach drew her away from her work, and she gave a 
quick smile to the two of them. Laura plopped herself on 
the couch, turning on the TV in hopes of finding yet 
another distraction for her thoughts.

"How'd it go?" her mom asked as her dad bent down to kiss 
her. Laura didn't need to look to see the kiss - she could 
hear it just fine from across the room. Most people, when 
affectionate toward each other, were generally quiet about 
it. Not her parents. No, they came with sound effects, 
which they always seemed to employ at precisely the times 
that she wanted to hear them least.

"I thought it went well," her father said, his tone 
conveying a confidence that Laura didn't feel at all. It 
could never be said that her father wasn't an optimist, and 
that was certainly showing now. Maybe he had mistook the 
tense silence of the car ride home as a sign of her 
acceptance, or maybe it was possible that her reaction was 
a step up from how her brothers had reacted. Who knows? But 
whatever it was, for a moment her mother seemed to buy it. 
But it was only a moment. Laura could feel her mother's 
eyes boring into her, searching for something, before 
finally, mercifully, she could feel them look away.

"Are you sure?" Laura could her mother whisper to her 
father, and Laura almost turned to let them know that she 
could, in fact, hear them, but she decided against it. This 
was her time for relaxation and not for talking or doing 
anything that required thought. In line with that idea, she 
flipped through the channels until she came to the UWBM, 
the network known for cheesy teen dramas. Some random boy 
she had never seen before was sitting on the screen with no 
shirt on, his chest nicely oiled up, while he talked to a 
girl wearing too much make-up. Take the girl with the make-
up away and you might have a decent show, she thought as 
she tossed the remote on the couch next to her.

"It went as well as could be expected," her dad said softly 
to her mom. "I thought there would be more fireworks, but 
so far she has been very calm about it."

Laura rolled her eyes. Did they even notice her in the same 
room? She forced herself to zero in on the upbeat rock 
coming from the TV speakers as she watched the muscled oily 
guy start to lift a set of weights with some less 
impressive pals. For a moment, she felt her mother's eyes 
on her again, but she ignored it.

"Well, I guess that's good," her mom replied. There was a 
quick rustle of clothes before she started speaking again. 
"Third time is a charm, I guess."

What was that supposed to mean? Laura's eyebrows knit 
together before she reminded herself that she wasn't 
listening to them. On the television, the oily guy talked 
about some wild party he was throwing that weekend when his 
parents were scheduled to be away, getting approving 
comments from his friends. Then suddenly, a hand appeared 
next to her, grabbing the remote off the couch. "This is 
the kind of thing they market to teens?" she heard her 
mother mutter from just behind her before the channel 
changed to one of the news networks that her parents liked 
to watch. The time had officially come to find a different 
way to distract herself, Laura thought.

"I'm going to my room," she said, looking away from them as 
she quickly got off the couch and maneuvered her way to the 
staircase and up to her own, personal, parent-free haven. 
She made sure that the door was closed tightly before 
sinking into the chair at her desk, flipping on the TV as 
she did. The channel with the oily guy on it had gone to 
commercial, so she searched her desk for other 
distractions. The manual from her driver's ed course sat on 
top of everything, cruelly reminding her of the reading 
assignment that she still needed to do, but she shoved it 
aside. That most certainly wasn't the type of distraction 
that she was looking for. A few layers of paper further 
down, she ran across a stack of 'Teen Phenom' magazines, 
and she gladly pulled those out, more than happy to get 
lost in the mind-numbing exploits of teen and young adult 
celebrities. She briefly wondered why exactly those 
magazines were on her desk in the first place, since 
normally she couldn't care less about the lives of 
celebrities, teenaged or not, but then remembered that one 
of her friends had brought them over a few weeks earlier. 
Why was it that her friends kept trying to get her to read 
this stuff? No amount of hype in the world could ever make 
her think that the latest boy band was any good, or dreamy, 
or even worth listening to. But as far as distractions 
went, even boy bands would suffice right now.

As the first magazine finally came free of the papers that 
had been on top of it, a familiar logo began to reveal 
itself. Curious, Laura pushed the rest of the clutter away 
to reveal the whole cover of the magazine. There, in the 
lower corner, was the Superman symbol. 'Meet the newest 
Superhero,' the headline underneath read in neon print, and 
suddenly her curiosity began to morph into a sense of 
dread. With somewhat shaky hands, she thumbed to the page 
listed for the article, and was immediately confronted by 
several full page shots of the newest Superman, decked out 
in his red and black uniform, seemingly oblivious to the 
photographers.

"Jon," she whispered, her mouth suddenly dry. Flipping the 
page, she saw another picture, this time with him speaking.

"Meet the Crimson Superman, the newest American phenom, and 
son of the original Superman," the article started, and 
Laura found herself reading along, pulled into the article 
for a reason that she couldn't quite comprehend. "Although 
he has become popular with girls everywhere, the Crimson 
Superman is shy about talking to reporters, and even more 
shy about revealing any intimate details about himself." It 
only figured, Laura thought with a snort. He wouldn't even 
tell his own sister what his night time hobby was, so why 
would he tell some random teen rag about his personal life? 
Laura read on, fully expecting to see all the juicy details 
on what his favorite color or flavor of ice cream was, but 
was mildly surprised to find out that the article was based 
on nothing but speculation. Okay, maybe surprised wasn't 
the best word. But she did find it interesting that the new 
hero's avoidance of reporters was so severe. In fact, none 
of the pictures looked like they had been posed for. Some 
looked rather amateurish, in fact, and she wondered just 
how far they went to get an original photo of him. Curious, 
she flipped the page again, and what she saw made her eyes 
go wide and her heart start to race.

The top picture showed the two supermen together, seated on 
top of a building. The Crimson Superman was looking at his 
father, obviously engrossed in some tale, the same kind 
that Laura had heard many times before. The picture 
could've been taken at the picnic table out back, or in the 
room next door. The second one, though, showed the two of 
them flying away, side by side. By itself, it really wasn't 
that special, but when partnered with the picture above it, 
it made the point hit home with her once and for all. All 
the feelings that she had been holding in burst forth at 
once, and suddenly it almost felt like she had been punched 
in the stomach. A shudder wracked her body as she finally 
began to cry hysterical, desperate tears. The magazine 
slipped from her hand at some point, but she didn't notice. 
All she could think about were the people that she had 
called her family, the people that she thought she had 
known. It could arguably have been said that her big 
brother and her father had been the two people that she had 
been closest to in the world, but now she knew that she had 
been kept at arm's length by them. It was enough to make 
her question her worth and her value, not only to the 
family, but to the world as a whole.

It wasn't a hard thing to do, she thought miserably as she 
moved to the bed. It wasn't bad enough that she had the 
pressure at school of living up to Jon's all-state berth or 
CJ's crummy 4.0 grade point average. Suddenly, she needed 
to live up to the man considered to be the most heroic and 
virtuous person on the planet, too. A groan escaped her as 
she curled up and rolled over, the light rock of the teen 
drama show giving her thoughts an unwanted soundtrack. That 
was her dad out there saving lives and doing all those 
fantastic things. And that was her brother beside him, 
carrying the torch for the next generation. It was only 
logical to assume that someone with the family talents 
would inherit the family business, as it were. But what if 
she didn't want to be like that? What if she COULDN'T be 
like that? She was only human, or mostly human, after all. 
In the course of life, people made mistakes, and what if 
one of those mistakes came back to her, making it 
impossible for her to live up to that image? If she messed 
this up, the stakes were that much higher, the potential 
loss that much more. One mistake and she couldn't and 
wouldn't be a hero to the world. So why even try? Why 
bother to be the good daughter, the hero-in-training? If 
failure was inevitable, and it sure seemed to be, then why 
go though all the work just to be upset?

With a sigh, she rolled over onto her other side, staring 
absently at the posters that adorned her wall. The cutesy 
cartoons and furry kitty pictures that had been her staple 
for so many years almost seemed to mock her now. They were 
reminders of a time when she had been more innocent, a 
whole twenty four hours ago. It was amazing what a day 
could do to a person, she thought as her eyes gradually 
wandered down the wall, finally coming to rest on the 
framed family photograph on her desk. Who were those 
people? All her memories told her one thing, but tonight 
her eyes had been pried open in a way, forcing her to 
reexamine what they all meant. Who was Superman to her, 
anyway? To the world he was a celebrity, a man who got 
mobbed wherever he went, a man who had dolls and clothing 
and comic books modeled off him. Like she did with a lot of 
pop culture, she had more or less ignored him. Yes, he 
could move mountains, but that didn't mean that she wanted 
to carry a Superman lunchbox, or put sheets with little S 
shields on them on her bed. She had never bothered to think 
about how he spent his nights, although if she had, she 
probably would've just assumed that he floated on a cloud 
somewhere when he wasn't rescuing anyone. Why on Earth 
would she ever connect him to her dad? Even now it almost 
seemed unreal, but she had seen him change, she had flown 
with him. That picture made the point that much more clear, 
but the logistics of it all still baffled her. Even if he 
was Superman, how could he do that and still do all the 
things that her dad did? And what about her brother? That 
one shocked her more than the thought of her dad being a 
superhero. He just didn't seem the type. He wasn't an 
athlete, or overly aggressive, and before seeing the 
pictures of him as Superman, she would never have believed 
that he was as well built as he was. She certainly didn't 
remember him having those rippling muscles when they would 
go swimming as kids. Shows what she knew. Very little, 
apparently.

Well, if her dad and brother were superheroes, what exactly 
did that mean for her? It had already been established that 
she was going to be a dismal failure in trying to be like 
them, so.... Her eyebrow cocked as an unfamiliar feeling 
began to grow inside of her. It was a feeling that she had 
heard about, that was very familiar to a lot of the girls 
she knew. When the world is against you, her friends would 
sometimes say, then tell the world where it can shove it. 
That idea had never appealed to her before, if only because 
the safety and security of her family had protected her 
from becoming that cynical, but now that wasn't the case. 
The world had hit her upside the head with a two-by-four, 
and she wasn't going to take it lying down. Now was as good 
a time as any to see what kind of fun was out there to be 
had, what kind of things could be accomplished when she 
wiggled out from underneath the thumb of her family and got 
a little wild. Rebellion had never seemed attractive 
before, but things change. From now on, she decided, she 
would be herself, the Laura Kent that would've been before 
she knew she was a super descendant. To heck with them all.

Just then, a light knocking came from her door. "Laura?" 
she heard her mom say in her most concerned voice.

"Go away, Mom," she said as she draped her arm over her 
eyes. She had just decided on her course of action, and she 
wasn't about to let her mom talk her out of it now.

"Are you all right, honey?" her mom asked, bringing a snort 
from Laura. Of course she wasn't all right!

"Well, let's see. Tonight I found out that my dad's really 
someone else, that my whole family has been lying to me for 
years, and that all the people I thought I knew best I 
don't really know at all. Yeah, I'm just fantastic."

The sigh from her mother was audible even through the door. 
"Maybe if we can talk about it, you'll see that it's not as 
bad as you think..."

"Yeah, it's probably worse," Laura shot back, knowing that 
she was probably being a bit unfair. But what did they 
expect? Did they honestly think that she wouldn't be upset? 
Weren't girls her age notorious for that?

"Well, if you don't want to talk about it, I won't make 
you. But please don't push us away. We love you, Laura." 
Her mom's words trailed off, then footsteps retreating from 
the door signaled that she was gone. Just as well, Laura 
thought with a pout as she got up to turn off the lights 
and the TV. She had nothing to say to either of her parents 
right now. Maybe in the morning she would see things 
differently, but she doubted it. It was going to be quite a 
long time before she forgave either of them. In the 
meantime, though.... A smile actually crept onto her face 
as she laid down in bed. In the meantime, she would do the 
things a normal, red-blooded teenager did, and she would 
enjoy them, whether her parents approved or not.

***

The sky above Metropolis was a clear, radiant blue as the 
sun made its way directly overhead. A lazy calmness that 
came from the sticky heat of the summer began to settle 
over the city, only to be broken by the sound of distant 
thunder. The gentle rumble began to build, rattling the 
windows of the houses and causing the local fauna to 
scatter as it grew louder, more forceful. All over the 
city, eyes were looking toward the heaven, searching out 
the clouds that they had assumed were up there, but all 
they saw was a streak of red and black across the sky. 
Those who had lived in Metropolis for any length of time 
just smiled and shook their head as they looked away, 
knowing it was their famous superhero taking to the skies, 
most likely on his way to rescue someone.

In the air, the streaking superhero gradually became aware 
of the situation he was causing, and he forced himself to 
slow his rate of speed. It was strange how sound seemed to 
simply go away once he hit mach one, Jon thought, but as he 
pondered the lessons he learned in freshman physics in 
college, he supposed that it wasn't so strange. Still, one 
of the things that took some getting used to as part of his 
new hero gig was flying in the big city, where sonic booms 
were generally frowned upon. Learning to fly during 
father/son excursions to the country in high school and 
college had been great, because the wide open spaces meant 
that there was nobody around to see a kid doing what only 
Superman should be able to do. But it also meant that there 
were no consequences when he inadvertently broke the sound 
barrier, something that became crystal clear to him once he 
was able to start taking to the friendly skies of 
Metropolis. In his first couple of weeks on the job, the 
news had been littered with reports of damage from his 
inadvertent jumps to supersonic speeds, prompting a talk 
from his father about when it was appropriate to fly that 
fast. Of course, he didn't come with a built in 
speedometer, but there were ways to tell when the sound 
barrier was approaching, and barring rescues, he tried not 
to travel that fast anymore. Besides, there usually wasn't 
anywhere he needed to be in non critical situations that 
would require speeds in excess of 700 miles per hour. He 
certainly wasn't in a hurry to reach his destination today, 
a place that was filled with a lot of memories, both good 
and bad.

Today's destination was the high school, HIS high school 
from years ago, and a certain little sister of his who 
should be leaving the school in a matter of minutes. He 
could see the building on the horizon, easily picking it 
out among the familiar neighborhoods that had been his home 
for 18 years. It sat in the middle of a dark smudge of 
asphalt that made up the massive parking lot, although the 
illusion caused by the noontime heat rising off the asphalt 
almost made it look like the school was drowning in a lake 
of water. The high school students should be so lucky, he 
thought as he drew closer, and the school grounds came into 
sharper focus. The updraft from the parking lot heat 
buffeted him as he circled around the school, finally 
landing in a small grove of trees in the back. It was 
amazing how little things changed at this place, he thought 
as he made his way toward the main entrance. The trees that 
had been planted his senior year were starting to get 
bigger, and the parking lot had expanded out and 
resurfaced. But the building itself hadn't changed one 
iota, and the benches and monuments dotting the campus 
still all looked the same, even the ones that he had sworn 
were hit by cars years ago still seemed off kilter. If he 
felt bold enough to venture inside, he would probably see 
the same teachers in the same classrooms, too, but that 
would be where the similarities to the school he knew would 
end. The students were what truly made the school, and he 
doubted that he would know anyone who was enrolled there 
now. Everyone would no doubt look so young, and the 
fashions would most assuredly look entirely different from 
when he was there. Time had moved on around this timeless 
campus, but that was the way the world worked.

With a sigh, Jon took a seat on a concrete bench by the 
main entrance, trying not to let the old memories come 
flooding back. His sister, he told himself, he was here for 
his sister, and she probably needed all the help he could 
give her. His parents had actually seemed worried when they 
had come to him earlier that day, telling him how Laura had 
locked herself in her room the night before after being 
told the big family secret, then she'd refused to so much 
as look at them that morning. When they'd asked her 
questions, she wouldn't even grunt in return. It had gotten 
to the point where they had actually been worried that she 
wouldn't even make it to school, but Jon was sure that that 
was one thing they didn't need to worry about. When mad at 
their parents, the last thing any kid wanted to do was hang 
around the house, especially if their friends were all at 
the high school. So naturally he had been elected to try 
and talk to her, to see if he could get her to open up, 
although he wasn't sure how much he could do. It was true 
that he had been in her shoes once, and that he had 
probably felt much the same as she was now, but that didn't 
mean that she'd feel obligated to tell him anything. It was 
quite possible that she lumped him in with Mom and Dad, 
thinking him no more trustworthy than either of them were. 
After all, he had been one of the people who had kept 
secrets from her, and his secret was just as big as his 
father's. In truth, CJ might be the best person to be doing 
this, since he had yet to don the spandex, but he was in 
Gotham for the summer. Figured.

A dozen different ways to approach the impending 
conversation swirled around in Jon's head, none of them 
particularly willing to assert itself. Whatever he decided 
to say would depend so much on how she felt about the 
situation that it was hard to decide on a course of action. 
When he had found out about his father, he had remembered 
being confused. Suddenly, he had felt like he was forced to 
look at his father completely differently than he had 
before, and it was hard to do until he figured out that he 
didn't have to in the first place. His father had always 
been the same person, it was more a matter of pulling back 
to finally get the full view of who he was. Laura would see 
that in time, but it would be harder for her, because it 
wasn't just her dad who had been holding out on her. She 
must feel like her whole family was a lie, he thought, 
wondering how he would handle the feeling of deception if 
he were in her shoes. Maybe she was feeling depressed, or 
maybe...oh, he didn't know. Fifteen seemed like so many 
years ago, it was hard to guess at what it was. The bottom 
line was that she would have to tell him.

As he sat on the bench, lost in thought, the loud ringing 
of a bell jarred him rudely back to the present. In a 
matter of moments, kids started streaming out the door, 
looking just as young as he thought they would. After a few 
minutes, he saw his sister exit the building, talking 
animatedly to a friend. Jon stood up and approached, 
immediately drawing the attention of the girl that Laura 
was with. It only took a moment for Laura to look his way, 
too, and immediately her eyes went wide with surprise 
before narrowing into suspicious slits.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice devoid of 
the accusatory tone that he had expected. That was a start, 
he supposed. With that, he plastered the most casual smile 
that he could muster onto his face.

"I thought I'd walk you home. Maybe we could talk on the 
way," he said to her, before acknowledging her friend, who 
seemed to be sizing him up.

"I'll, uh, let you guys go," the friend said, casting a 
smile toward Jon before looking back at Laura. "I'll see 
you tonight, right?"

Laura nodded in response, but she never took her eyes off 
Jon. The corners of her mouth had turned down ever so 
slightly, and Jon was struck by how odd it seemed to see 
her frowning. In their family, there was usually happiness, 
or at the very least contentment, and even when lost in a 
project or hard at work, a smile always seemed to be right 
there, just waiting for the right moment to materialize. 
But that certainly wasn't the case right now for Laura, 
whose frown in concert with the lines under her eyes spoke 
volumes about the inner struggles she was having. Slowly, 
they began to walk in the general direction of the Kent 
home, an uncomfortable silence descending on them.

"So how is your class going?" Jon asked, attempting to 
break the ice. A shrug greeted him in response.

"S'okay," she said, her voice hard.

"Is Mr. Mathers still teaching that class?" he tried again, 
but to no avail.

"No. Mr. Brown," she said in the same tone as before. So 
much for breaking the ice, Jon thought. She wasn't dumb, 
she probably knew exactly why he was there. There really 
wasn't any point in delaying things any longer, he thought 
with a sigh. Might as well just get on with it.

"Mom and Dad thought you might need someone to talk to," he 
said after a moment of silence. "I'm sure what they told 
you last night was a shock, but maybe it won't seem so bad 
if you can just talk it over with someone who's been 
there."

At his words, she stopped, her frown morphing into an 
almost painfully smug smirk. "I knew it," she mumbled as 
she began to shake her head. Jon just stood there and 
looked at her, waiting for her to continue. It looked like 
she was fighting some inner struggle, wrestling with just 
what exactly she was going to say to him. For a moment, she 
looked about ready to tell him off, then she seemed to 
soften a little, before getting a suspicious look on her 
face again. "And just what made them think I'd talk to 
you?" she asked finally, guardedly.

Jon shrugged in response. "Because I know what you're going 
through," he said, trying to make his voice sound calm, but 
not patronizing. The last thing she needed right now was to 
be talked down to, or humored. She needed someone to be 
honest with her, and that's what he intended to do.

Her arms folded across her chest as she stared at him, 
through him, her expression growing stormier with each 
passing moment. Finally she snorted and started stalking 
down the sidewalk, continuing right past him. "I didn't ask 
for any of this," she said as she went along, seemingly 
talking to nobody. Jon turned and followed her, jogging to 
catch up. "Everything was just great until yesterday, and 
now I don't know anything anymore. I don't know my family, 
I don't know myself, and I don't even know if the things 
I've experienced all my life were real." Her hands flew 
around as she continued, not sending so much of a glance 
toward her brother. "If given a choice, I can honestly say 
that I would rather be some normal kid with a normal 
family. I don't want this, any of it."

She almost seemed to be on the brink of tears, even though 
her voice remained angry. She would never let anyone see 
when something was hurting her - she was stubborn that way, 
just like most of the people in their family. But he knew 
enough to sense the anguish disguised as anger, and he 
could certainly understand. Quickly, he jogged ahead, right 
into her line of sight, and captured her eyes with his own. 
"Do you think any of us wanted this?" he asked quietly, 
causing her eyes to go wide and her pace to falter. "The 
last thing you want when you're a kid is to be different, 
and being a part of this family means being as different as 
they come."

She gaped at him for a moment before her eyes narrowed 
again and her strides became longer and more powerful than 
they had been even a couple moments earlier. "Yeah, some 
sentiment coming from the big shot hero," she said as she 
gave him the dirtiest look she could muster. Jon sighed and 
fell into step beside her, suddenly grateful that the 
sidewalks and lawns of the neighborhood were fairly 
deserted on this particular day. The last thing either of 
them needed was for someone to eavesdrop on this 
conversation and discover something that they shouldn't.

"I've had seven years to get used to all this," he said, 
trying to gauge her reaction. "I certainly didn't start out 
to be a hero. Heck, DAD didn't even start out to be a hero. 
When I found out, I was scared and confused, probably a lot 
like you are now, but I was very relieved at the same time. 
You might not know this, but you're the first person in 
this family that hasn't had to find out the big secret the 
hard way." That seemed to bring a reaction.

"Dad didn't tell you?" she asked, all her earlier 
storminess apparently gone for the time being. Jon smiled 
sadly in response and shook his head.

"I had been experiencing some strange things, and I just 
happened to look through a wall in time to see Superman get 
in bed with Mom." Jon smiled as he relived the memory. It 
was strange how something that had been so traumatic back 
then almost made him feel nostalgic now. It was a big 
turning point in his life, and even he had to admit that it 
was an amusing story. He blinked, bringing himself out of 
his thoughts, and looked over toward his sister just in 
time to see the barest ghost of a smile begin to form on 
her face. She almost seemed at peace for a moment, but only 
for a moment. Almost as quickly as it appeared, the smile 
was gone again, replaced by the steely mask that was 
trademark of enraged teenagers throughout the known world.

"You knew and you didn't tell me," she said, the hurt 
seeping back into her voice.

"It wasn't my place to tell," he said, knowing full well 
that it wasn't just an excuse. Even back then he had 
decided that he wouldn't tell her or CJ. All the things 
that his dad had said in defense of keeping the secret had 
made a certain amount of sense to him, and he had agreed 
that it was worthwhile to keep it to himself, but in a way 
he knew that his real motivation was that he had wanted 
more for his brother and sister than what he had gotten. He 
wanted for them to find out the right way, and he wanted 
for his dad to have the satisfaction of getting it right 
just once. He deserved that.

"You're no better than them," she said softly, intensely. 
"Aren't I a part of this family? Don't I deserve to know? 
What difference does it make who tells me?" The house was 
beginning to approach, and the closer it came, the more Jon 
could feel the anger building in Laura. "I have news for 
you," she continued. "I don't want to be what you all want 
me to be. I'm not going to go on being the obedient 
daughter. If I really mean that little to everyone, then I 
don't need you."

Ah, the teenage thought process, Jon thought with a sigh. 
At that age, it always seemed like the world was against 
you, and even innocent things could be twisted to try and 
fit that view of things. This was a perfect example. Their 
father, a man who had always been kind and considerate 
toward everyone and was never demanding of his children, 
had voluntarily told her everything. Finally, Clark Kent 
had been able to tell one of his children about their 
heritage, and do it in a way that was no doubt carefully 
thought out in order to be as gentle as possible. Yet, 
somehow, that all seemed sinister to her. Yes, they had 
kept something from her, but it was not without good cause. 
Someday she would see that, but who knew when that day 
would come? Until then, she seemed to be insinuating that 
she would be rebelling against all of them, and more 
importantly, rebelling against who she was. She WAS the 
obedient daughter, a good kid, but being those things to 
her meant being under the control of her parents somehow. 
It was hard to feel obedient or loving or even respectful 
toward people who had wronged her as much as she felt her 
parents had, and so the only thing left to do was rebel.

"You can't run away from who you are," Jon said, drawing a 
dirty look from her. "Maybe you don't want to be the person 
that you have been, and maybe you don't want to be the 
super person that you'll eventually become, but that won't 
make any of the powers and the experiences that they'll 
bring go away. Just because the people that you trusted 
kept some things from you doesn't mean that they wanted to 
hurt you in any way. It also doesn't mean that you knew 
anyone any less than you did before. Take the time to look 
around, dig into the archives at the library, view Superman 
news reports. Take all the knowledge from that and cross 
reference it with your memories. What major disasters 
happened on your twelfth birthday that went unattended so 
that Dad could attend your party?" Jon stopped and took a 
breath, surprised for a moment at how impassioned his 
little speech had become. He hadn't set out to defend his 
parents in any way, but as he had begun to talk, it just 
came. The memories of his own revelations and discoveries 
had come flooding back all at once, and along with them 
came the sense of gratitude and pride that he had felt in 
his family at the time, which he still felt to this day.

"There are people in that house who love you for who you 
are, who will always love you no matter what you become or 
how strenuously you try to push them away," he continued, 
gesturing to the house, trying to draw at even the 
slightest hint of understanding from her. "They are also 
among a select few people on this planet who will be able 
to understand what it is you'll go through, who can help 
you every step along the way so that you can master your 
new gifts without feeling threatened by them. Believe me, 
there's nothing worse that being afraid of yourself and the 
harm that you can so easily bring to others by doing 
something so innocent as looking at them or touching them. 
There's nothing you can accomplish through rebellion that 
couldn't be done better by just letting your family help 
you."

They had reached the foot of the driveway, and Laura seemed 
as obstinate as ever. As he finished talking, she looked at 
him again, and he wondered if she had even heard what he 
had said. "I don't need your help," she said, her voice 
almost choked. With that, she jogged up the drive, digging 
around inside the pocket of her jeans as she did. Quickly, 
she opened the front door and immediately slammed it closed 
behind her. A quick peek through the walls showed that the 
tears had started flowing once again, and Jon debated 
whether or not he should go inside to comfort her, 
eventually deciding against it. What she needed right now 
was to be alone, to be able to decide what she really 
wanted.

With that, he casually walked around the house to the back 
yard, spinning into the Suit as he reached the trees. With 
a jump, he was airborne again, headed back toward the Daily 
Planet to finish the last of his lunch break. In the back 
of his mind, he worried about Laura, but he was sure that 
she'd be just fine. Eventually.

***

Stubborn, Laura thought much later that night. She had been 
stubborn, and blind, and despite the very valiant effort of 
her brother, she had refused to see the truth that was so 
plainly laid out in front of her. If she'd have just looked 
around like Jon said, she knew that she would've seen the 
love that her family felt for her, and the concern in their 
expressions every time that they looked her way. But she 
hadn't looked, instead deciding to stay mad at them and 
plow on with her half baked idea of being rebellious. She 
almost laughed at the notion now, as the cold, harsh 
reality of everything had come literally crashing down 
around her. All rebellion ever led to was a whole lot of 
trouble, and she knew that now. At least she should be 
grateful that her eyes had been pried open after only a 
day, before something truly bad had happened, either to her 
or by her hand. It was strange to think of how she got 
here, her attitude completely changed, and all in the 
course of a few hours.

After Jon's departure, she had spent a lot of time in her 
room, alternatively crying and berating herself for letting 
him get to her. He didn't know anything, she told herself. 
Yes, he had been in her place once, more or less, and she 
supposed that he probably knew what it felt like to be 
betrayed, maybe even more than she did. But the fact 
remained that none of the feelings of resentment that he 
had alluded to were present in him anymore. On the 
contrary, he had embraced the life their father led, and he 
had perpetuated the lies and the deception, even going so 
far as to defend those things, so he had no business 
lecturing her on morals. Contrasting the arguments her 
brother had made with her own mental counter arguments, she 
decided that it was very possible that she was making a lot 
out of nothing. But that was absurd, she decided. Of course 
the fact that her father was Superman was a big deal, and 
of course the upheaval in her sense of self was equally 
big, and nobody seemed to want to understand that. Until 
they did, she had no choice but to rebel, right? Right. Of 
course. It wasn't even a question, really.

Even so, she had felt guilty. It was hard to describe, but 
sometimes she just got this feeling, a tiny voice from 
somewhere that told her when something about the whole 
situation wasn't right. It was related to the feeling of 
forgetting something, or leaving something behind, but she 
didn't HAVE anything to forget. That almost sick sense of 
foreboding had clung to her all afternoon, striking yet 
another down note on her already dreary day, but she tried 
her best to ignore it. It didn't do much good, though, and 
once the crying had finally subsided, she remained in her 
room, mildly depressed, watching afternoon cartoons and 
trying to think as little as possible. As her parents had 
come home, she had pushed them away, denying them entry to 
her room and, later, ignoring them during supper. For the 
most part they had left her alone, but it wasn't hard to 
feel the tensions between them when they were together, and 
she could just hear their thoughts, condemning her, 
puzzling over her, maybe feeling upset because of her. She 
conveniently ignored the anguished words they said to her, 
the probes into her well being, and continued to convince 
herself of their maliciousness.

Later that night, after her dad had gone out for his 
nightly "errands" and her mom had retired to her bedroom, 
she had snuck out of the house and gone over to Stacy's. 
The two of them immediately joined Stacy's older sister and 
another friend as they went to a party out in the country. 
The ride had been a long one, but it had been a nice 
departure from her normal evenings spent around the house. 
She had never indulged in the party invitations that her 
friend had offered previously, partially because she 
generally didn't enjoy big parties, and partially because 
it felt wrong being at a place where underage drinking was 
going on. But in the midst of her rebellion, her morals 
seemed to take a hike, and all of a sudden a nice, loud 
party sounded like a lot of fun.

It felt good to kick back and have some fun, to laugh after 
she had done so much crying, and to let all her problems 
fade into the background. For a while, everything went just 
as she had hoped, and she enjoyed herself, but after about 
an hour, it all began to look phony and hollow. She tried 
to indulge in the special punch, but she knew what was in 
it, and her thirst went away remarkably quickly. She 
watched as kids that she didn't really know continued to 
drink, and get drunk, and suddenly seem to find amusement 
in things that really weren't all that funny. The laughter 
got raunchier as the night progressed, and the stories more 
absurd, and Laura found herself wishing that she could just 
go home. She didn't want to be like this, a sad, lonely 
soul who had nothing better to do than to waste her teenage 
years, which could be the most productive of her life, 
getting drunk. It wasn't hard for her father's words to 
spring into her consciousness, reminding her that she could 
only be a kid once in her life. Once the innocence left, it 
would never come back, and her innocence was the one thing 
that she was desperately trying to cling to in her current 
identity crisis. It had never occurred to her before that 
all this mindless rebellion would take that from her, too. 
At least at home she felt like she belonged, even if the 
people around her felt like strangers, as odd as that 
sounded. At least they loved her. Here...here she was just 
some pathetic new kid who was too much of a party pooper to 
join in the escapades. But, she decided, she didn't mind 
being a party pooper that much. If it meant keeping her 
self-esteem intact, then so be it.

Late night progressed into early morning, and gradually 
people began to leave. When Laura's group finally decided 
to get going, it quickly became apparent that Stacy's 
sister, the one in the bunch with a license, was in no 
shape to drive. Stacy, too, was pretty far gone, and in 
truth, Laura was the only one who was still sober. And that 
meant that she had to drive. So far, her only experience 
had been in the park the night before, and those roads were 
a lot different from the interstates and city streets that 
she needed to take to get back to Metropolis. She started 
to suggest that they just stay the night and drive back 
later, when everyone was better, but nobody wanted to face 
the consequences that would bring. Parents didn't take 
kindly to finding empty beds where their children had been 
the night before, and it tended to lead to police 
involvement, which nobody wanted. So she drove, albeit 
slowly and cautiously, on alert for cops or anyone else who 
might find the sight of a mature-looking 15 year old 
driving a car suspicious. Much to her relief, the roads 
seemed fairly deserted, and the drive went without 
incident. That was, until about a mile before her exit on 
the freeway.

Throughout the drive, the occasional set of headlights had 
made their way down the other side of the road, passing by 
without much concern, like cars on freeways usually did. 
They weren't anything to be worried about, and Laura felt 
like her considerable effort would be better suited to 
other things directly related to her car. Driving on the 
highway wasn't as easy as it looked, she thought for the 
umpteenth time, and it didn't help that she had a car full 
of giggly drunks trying to distract her. She checked the 
mirrors again and then looked back toward the road, not 
even seeing the set of headlights that had begun to 
approach in the oncoming lanes. It was only as they began 
to near that she noticed that something was wrong. The 
headlights were angled too much toward her, and they seemed 
to be closer than any other cars that she had consciously 
registered that night. The reasons why were a mystery, but 
suddenly it dawned on her that the headlights were actually 
pointing toward their car. A split second later, the car 
was barreling across the median ditch, headed without 
hesitation right into their path. She yanked the wheel 
violently, trying to avoid the oncoming car, but all she 
managed to do was to lose control, and the car swerved 
wildly as she tried to keep it on the road. All the time, 
the other car remained on an absolutely straight path, 
unwavering, and she suddenly realized that they were going 
to hit, there was no avoiding it.

Time seemed to almost slow down as she gripped the wheel 
and braced herself for the impending impact. Both cars were 
going at least 65 miles an hour, so the crash would be 
horrific, she was sure. A million thoughts flashed through 
her mind, most of them centered on her family. She was 
going to die, and they would never know that she still 
loved them, and that she really did accept them, no matter 
who or what they were. In excruciatingly slow motion, she 
watched the car get closer and closer. She didn't care if 
her dad was Superman, she decided. Closer. But if he were 
Superman, then maybe.... A beacon of hope began to fill her 
as she filled in the blank. Maybe she wouldn't die. Maybe 
there was something there already, some of her heritage 
asserting itself that she had never noticed before. Closer. 
She didn't get sick much, but she drank a lot of orange 
juice and took her vitamins, so that could very well be 
nothing. She didn't get hurt, but she didn't really do 
anything that would get her hurt either. Closer. Maybe it 
wasn't certain that she'd survive, but if she did, the 
first thing she'd do would be to mend her fences with the 
family.

In that moment a sound came, a sound that was louder than 
anything she had expected. The fusion of metal on metal, of 
racing engines and gasoline melding together then viciously 
contorting, created a roar that was almost deafening. The 
driver's side began to collapse around her, the steering 
column heaving up into her chest, a ball of flame exploding 
outward from the mangled engine block. The car buckled and 
twisted, the metal groaning and protesting the whole time, 
before finally coming to a stop. The roar of the engine 
sputtered and ceased until, finally, it was quiet. It was 
then that Laura became aware of the pressure that was all 
around her, pushing in on her from all sides, but oddly, 
without pain. It was a very claustrophobic feeling, almost 
like she had been buried alive, and her breath caught for a 
moment before she realized what it meant. She wasn't dead! 
She wasn't even hurt, at least she didn't think she was, 
which meant that she had been right. All of a sudden, she 
was very grateful for her heritage. But, she realized with 
a start, just because she was alive didn't mean that anyone 
else was. She needed to check on them, but at the moment 
she couldn't move.

Invulnerability was one of the famed superpowers, and if 
she had one, who was to say that she didn't have more? 
Super strength would certainly come in handy right now, she 
thought, and cautiously, she started to apply pressure to 
the metal that clamped her in place. Gradually, she 
increased the pressure, to the point that she was straining 
herself, but to no avail. That particular power must come 
later, she thought as she settled for any movement she 
could find. Eventually, she managed to get her head to 
turn, and she looked at her passengers, all of whom seemed 
to be quite a bit worse for the wear. Stacy's sister 
actually appeared to be bloodied, and her friend hadn't 
been wearing a seatbelt, and was nowhere to be seen. That 
meant that she had probably been thrown from the vehicle, 
probably getting seriously hurt in the process. They all 
needed a doctor, and quickly, but Laura didn't know what 
she could do. A wave of frustration swept over her before 
she realized that there was a way to get the help she was 
looking for, after all.

"HELP!" she yelled as loudly as she could, breaking the 
silence around her. Stubbornness and a manufactured sense 
of anger toward her family had gotten her here, but it 
would be her family who got her out. She just hoped they 
were out there. She yelled again, inwardly dreading the 
moment they saw her there, and the horror and confusion 
that she would see on their faces. They would think the 
worst of her, she knew, but her rebellious streak was now 
officially over.

***

In the skies above Metropolis, Jon crossed his legs and 
placed his elbow on his knee, propping up his head with his 
hand. Upon first sight, Metropolis at night from above was 
beautiful beyond words. Maybe hypnotic was a better word, 
he thought. There just seemed to be something so pure about 
the city when all its dirt and grime were hidden in 
darkness, and all that could be seen was the pristine light 
from hundreds of thousands of windows and street lamps. Of 
course, as time went by and his focus was zeroed in on 
crime and other more earthly things, the beauty just seemed 
to fade away. It didn't help that his vision allowed for 
him to focus in on those dark, hidden corners and see all 
the filth and muck just as easily as if they were 
illuminated under a giant light. It kind of took the 
mystery out of things, he supposed, but he wasn't here for 
mystery or intrigue. Crime fighting, life saving, those 
were all his missions in life right now, and, well, it was 
a darn good thing that he didn't need a lot of sleep. Or 
have a family. Or have any semblance of a social life. 
Patrolling at night was a lot more fun when his dad was 
around, but he had gone home a couple hours ago, which Jon 
supposed was to be expected. After twenty-some years of 
patrolling alone, it was time for his dad to have a little 
bit of the break. Unfortunately, that made for some lonely 
nights.

Evenings weren't so bad, Jon mused as he floated, content 
to let himself go where the currents carried him. The rush 
home from work would just be dying down, and kitchens all 
across suburbia would get fired up, sending wonderful 
aromas skyward for him to anguish over. The less savory 
elements tended to take to the street then, praying on the 
shoppers and bike riders and other people who were out, 
taking advantage of a warm summer night. That was always a 
busy time. As evening progressed into night and lights 
began to turn off all over the city, there was inevitably a 
big lull in criminal activity. Things did pick up a bit as 
the bars closed, but after that, he figured he might as 
well go home, and most of the time he did. But sometimes, 
the quiet early morning hours would afford him and his dad 
a chance to talk. They would camp out on top of one of the 
skyscrapers downtown and talk for hours about subjects 
ranging from sports to superhero stuff to anecdotes from 
their younger days. He liked those nights together, and 
from time to time he wondered if he would've ever gotten to 
be as close to his dad if he hadn't followed in his 
footsteps. Hovering in the sky, sitting on skyscraper 
ledges, these were things that most people couldn't even 
think of experiencing, but they could, and did, and they 
took advantage of that. With a sigh, Jon wondered if his 
sister would ever get the chance to experience that for 
herself.

He blinked, wondering how his mind had wandered onto that 
tangent. It was only inevitable, he supposed, since she was 
the big news item for the family right now. CJ had been so 
understanding about everything; why couldn't she? He had 
had a vaguely unsettling feeling all evening, something in 
the pit of his stomach telling him that all the tension 
with his sister was going to get worse before it got 
better. He couldn't imagine how or why, unless she followed 
through on her earlier anger toward them. Surely she 
wouldn't tell anyone their secret...wouldn't she? Her neck 
was on the line if she did, so he didn't think that was it. 
Maybe she would get herself in trouble trying to prove that 
she truly did have powers, even though she probably didn't, 
at least not in more than an elementary capacity. That felt 
a little closer to the truth, he thought, before shaking 
his head and banishing the thought.

Jon's eyes scanned the streets below, sweeping back and 
forth absently, looking for signs of criminal activity but 
finding none. Dwelling on vague notions was a bad habit, he 
decided. Whatever Laura had done or would do, he'd know 
about it sooner or later. Right now, he thought as his eyes 
caught the clock on a bank building, it was getting to be 
past his bedtime. The streets were quiet tonight, and the 
shady elements looked fairly subdued. He began to 
straighten up and float in the general direction of his 
apartment when a sound caught his attention. It was that 
dull crunch of metal on metal, a sound that he had become 
very familiar with since coming onto the job. This one 
sounded bad, he thought as he tried to pinpoint the 
location, all thoughts of bedtime suddenly gone.

The brief orange eruption of a fireball caught his 
attention, and suddenly he knew where the accident was. He 
rushed to the site, thoughts of speed and sonic booms far 
from his mind. His initial assessment had been right, he 
could easily see as the fire quickly faded away. The crash 
had been on the interstate, obviously high speed, judging 
by the destruction of both cars. If either driver were 
alive, he thought grimly, it would truly be a miracle. As 
he landed, he took the cell phone out of his outfit, 
pressing the speed dial for police dispatch as he reached 
out with his senses to assess the scene. One victim was in 
the first car, three were in the second, and one was lying 
on the pavement several feet away. All were alive, a couple 
of them just barely, judging from their pulse rates. 
Strangely, it almost seemed like one person was completely 
unharmed, their heartbeat steady and sure, but he didn't 
know how that could be. Both cars looked more like crushed 
tin cans that automobiles, and even backseat passengers 
couldn't have escaped harm. The unwaveringly strong rhythm 
that he heard had to be an illusion of some sort. Maybe he 
was picking up the vitals of someone in a nearby house.

"911 emergency," an operator said over the phone.

"Yes, there's been an accident on the Eisenhower Freeway," 
Jon said as he walked closer to the cars. He circled around 
the scene, his mind quickly formulating a plan of action as 
he talked. "There appear to be 5 injured people," he said, 
"Some of them teenagers." Jon frowned, smelling the 
unpleasant aroma of alcohol that hung around both vehicles. 
It saddened him to see so many accidents caused by drunken 
drivers, and, in this case, drunken drivers who were still 
in high school. How many of these horrific accidents did it 
take before people got the message that they should never 
mix alcohol and driving?

His thought was interrupted by surprisingly loud yell for 
help that seemed to be coming from the second car.

"Sir?" the operator asked, and Jon drew his attention back 
to her, suddenly aware that she had asked him another 
question. He asked her to repeat it, and they finished 
their phone call after a few moments, but he spent much of 
the time staring at the car and the increasingly desolate 
cries that were coming from it. There was something oddly 
familiar about the sound of that voice, he thought. It 
wouldn't be the first time he had rescued someone he knew - 
that honor had come when he saved an acquaintance of his in 
high school from a burning high rise a few weeks earlier. 
Somehow, though, this voice seemed too familiar to belong 
to someone he hadn't seen in a few years.

Jon pressed the end button on the phone and tucked it back 
in his pocket, curiously approaching the second car. The 
cries seemed to be coming from the driver, although how 
that could be, he didn't know. It occurred to him that the 
heartbeat that had been so steady only a moment earlier had 
accelerated, possibly due to excitement. If he was truly 
picking up on someone from a nearby house, they would still 
be asleep, wouldn't they? Maybe it was this person, 
instead.

"Hello?" he said, using his Superman voice.

"Hello? Superman?" the voice said with an almost panicked 
anticipation.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, not liking the way that the sound 
of this person's voice was affecting him. It would only 
take one peek into the car to either confirm or deny the 
identity of the driver, but for whatever reason, he held 
back. It had always been his mode of operation to 
concentrate on the job when he was working, nothing else. 
When he x-rayed into wrecked cars, he only did so to assess 
the injuries of the occupants. He never looked at faces if 
he could avoid it, if only because it was easier that way. 
The blank looks of pain on victims' faces, the shock fixed 
in the expressions of those that died, the human side to 
the tragedies that he plunged into was almost too much to 
bear sometimes. Every now and then he looked, just to 
remind himself of why he was there, but for the sake of his 
sanity, he had to stay detached. Now, though, he wanted 
nothing more than to see who it was that had somehow lived 
a miracle, but at the same time, he felt a sense of dread 
about who he would find there.

"No, no, just get me out of here," she said, and Jon 
quickly clenched and unclenched his fists, struggling 
internally with what should be done. There really wasn't 
any question about whether or not he should tear the door 
off and get her out. It was just...oh, to heck with it, he 
thought. Quickly, he looked into the car, purposely keeping 
his focus away from her face while he assessed her 
condition. Satisfied that she was indeed okay, he peeled 
the metal apart, revealing the face of someone who he 
realized that he had expected to see there.

All the heat seemed to drain from his face as he caught 
sight of Laura Kent, sitting within a cavity of metal that 
was perfectly sculpted around the form of her body. 
"Laura?!" he said, his voice cracking. She wiggled out of 
the opening he had created, jumping up and throwing her 
arms around him, sobbing on his shoulder.

"I can't...I didn't...but I still...I'm so glad you're 
here," she cried, and Jon didn't know what to say. 
Mechanically, his arm wrapped around her into a comforting 
embrace, but his mind was spinning. What on Earth was she 
doing out here at this hour, in the driver's seat of a car? 
Had she been drinking? The feeling of dread that he had had 
all evening had been well founded, he supposed, although 
this certainly wasn't what he had expected. Rebellion was 
one thing, but if she had done what he thought she had, 
that was something else entirely. That was serious. That 
was illegal, for goodness sakes!

Taking a deep breath while her head was on his shoulder, he 
realized that she didn't hold the acrid smell of alcohol on 
her that seemed to be everywhere else at that crash site. 
That might explain what she was doing behind the wheel of 
the car, but it didn't stop the fact that she had been one 
of the drivers responsible for the accident. A twinge of 
pity ran through him as he thought about what she must be 
going through. Everything right now for her was so new - 
the fact that her family included Supermen, the driving 
thing, the adjustment to a new school.... In the middle of 
it all, what had probably started out to be an escape had 
gone terribly wrong. All the fear and doubt that she had 
been feeling before were now amplified and twisted, mangled 
in light of this situation that was much worse than those 
comparatively petty worries of just a few minutes ago. This 
time her actions had real consequences for others, and she 
had to face that and grow up a lot in the process. Jon felt 
himself become less rigid in her grasp, tightening his arms 
around her for a moment before gently pushing her away. The 
confusion and hurt were evident on her face, and it pained 
him to see them, but he needed to tend to the others that 
had been injured in the accident. Digging in his pocket, he 
pulled out his phone as he began to nudge Laura toward the 
shoulder of the road.

"I'm just glad you're okay," he said in a stage whisper, 
handing her the phone. "I wish I could stay here and talk 
to you about what happened, but I have to help your 
friends," he continued. She sat down on the guardrail, 
looking down strangely at the phone. "And you have to call 
home," he finished, before turning and walking away.

"Why do I have to call home?" he heard her ask, an almost 
fearful quality in her voice. He knew well what she had to 
be thinking, and in her position he would probably feel the 
same way. It wasn't often that they saw disappointment in 
the faces of their parents, but this would be one instance 
where it would be hard to avoid. It was the type of look 
that always left him heartbroken, because he knew that it 
indicated a degree of trust that had had been lost. "I 
mean, you could take me home, and maybe then...." she 
continued before trailing off. Jon sighed and stopped in 
mid-stride, turning back toward her. If she could go home 
and somehow slip under the radar of their parents, if only 
for a little while, he was sure that she would. But it 
would only be delaying a confrontation that was inevitable, 
one that he knew he had no business being in the middle of.

"I can't take you home like this," he said softly yet 
firmly, his voice undisguised, fairly certain that any 
bystanders would be in no shape to notice. His fingers 
plucked at his spandex top, and he looked at her, his 
eyebrows raised as he waited for the recognition to come. 
When none was immediately forthcoming, he went on quickly, 
impatient to get back to the other victims that needed his 
help. "That, and there are certain things that have to 
happen at an accident scene. You will be questioned by the 
police, you will be looked at by the paramedics, and then, 
probably after a trip in the back of a squad car to your 
local police precinct, you will be released to Mom and Dad. 
I can't just fly you off, no questions asked. It doesn't 
work that way."

He continued to watch, aware of the brusque tone his speech 
had taken on in his haste. Laura seemed on the verge of 
tears, but she continued to look at him, her eyes pleading, 
until she dropped her gaze to the phone in her hands. 
"Yeah, I know," she said softly. "Guess I'm just delaying 
the inevitable. I just don't want to have to look them in 
the face and tell them that I did this," she said, a tear 
slipping down her cheek as she surveyed the site for the 
first time.

A wave of emotion swept over Jon as he watched his sister 
forlornly gaze at the accident, and the urgency of the 
situation seemed to slip away yet again. He approached her 
again, slipping his hand under her chin and cupping her 
cheek in a comforting, familial gesture. "You can do it," 
he said, his words drawing her eyes to his. "You're a lot 
stronger than you think. And if you need anyone, just 
remember that I'm right here, okay. Believe it or not, I 
wasn't always a saint. There are a few things in my past 
that drew late night calls and run-ins with the police."

"Really?" she asked, smiling shakily.

Jon nodded, returning her smile as his memory flashed with 
the images of one of those late nights. Even straight 
arrows veered off course every now and then, and he was no 
different. In high school, he had participated in the 
senior prank, which unfortunately involved the theft of 
items around town. In all the years that seniors had been 
lifting real estate signs and patio furniture from around 
Metropolis, he was sure that he and his friends had been 
the only ones ever caught doing it. In retrospect, it 
hadn't been very smart to take part in the first place, 
especially knowing that his father was probably up 
patrolling the city while he was committing his crime. But 
his experience that night and the ensuing encounter with 
his folks had been more than enough to swear him off crime 
for good. Now Laura had to live that, but it would get 
worse before it got better.

"Go on, call," he said with a nod, drawing his hand away 
from her face. She nodded back, and he turned away again 
and got to work on freeing the other victims of the 
accident. In the distance, the wail of an ambulance could 
be heard growing closer and closer. Quickly, he started 
with his task, systematically assessing the condition of 
each individual patient and making sure it was safe to move 
them before extracting them from the car. By the time the 
police arrived, he had all the victims comfortably lying 
off the shoulder of the road. He stayed to talk with the 
police and paramedics as everything was attended to, and 
only after the ambulances began to retreat did he finally 
wander back toward his sister, who was now surrounded by 
police. Briefly, he wondered how her miraculous escape from 
harm would be explained, and he turned back toward the 
ruined car, wondering if he should make it look like she 
had somehow been thrown clear. It was possible that she 
could've been ejected out the front if she hadn't worn a 
seatbelt, but that certainly would've given head injuries 
to any normal person. Besides, the time was already past to 
do such a thing. The police had already made a fairly 
detailed survey of the site, including the states of the 
vehicles involved. They would notice an extra hole in the 
windshield, or anywhere else, for that matter. Maybe she 
could say that she bailed out of the car before it hit. 
While it would make her out to be irresponsible, it would 
certainly take any possible scrutiny about her lack of 
injuries off of her. Bailing out of a car going 65 miles 
per hour wouldn't be without incident, he supposed, but if 
she had done it just right, them maybe it would work.

Jon joined the group around Laura, relieved to find that 
they were still collecting information from her about the 
identities of her and her friends. She looked up at him and 
smiled nervously, and he gave her a nod in return, which 
seemed to give her a little more confidence.

"What can you tell me about what happened?" the officer 
finally asked. Laura's eyes went wide, and her mouth opened 
and shut several times before she looked back toward Jon. 
Apparently, it hadn't occurred to her that she would need 
to make a story up to explain why she wasn't hurt. 
Fortunately, Jon had years of experience, both with 
covering for himself and with covering for his other family 
members.

Clearing his throat, Jon drew the attention of the 
officers. "I saw it happen," he said, drawing a surprised 
glance from Laura. A twinge of guilt flared up inside of 
him at the thought of lying to police officers, but he 
quickly squelched it. Yes, he was taking advantage of his 
position, and the inherent trust that the police held in 
Superman, but sometimes there was no avoiding the 
occasional white lie. It was those white lies that shielded 
them from the perils of being in the public eye, allowing 
him and his father to live as normal men even while their 
alter egos were firmly entrenched in the spotlight. Being 
able to hold on their privacy and that of the rest of their 
family and friends was certainly worth bending the truth a 
little, and he had no doubt that his father would see it 
exactly the same way.

"Her car was traveling in the far right lane, here, when 
this other car came barreling across the median. She jumped 
out of the car before they hit, somehow hitting the 
pavement and rolling away without injuring herself. That 
most certainly saved her life," he said, confident that the 
details of the actual accident were close enough to make 
his scenario believable. He might not have actually 
witnessed what had happened, but the clues were easy enough 
to decipher. A set of tire tracks cut through the soft dirt 
of the median, leaving a muddy aftermath as they continued 
across the pavement and into the car Laura was driving. 
Open containers of liquor littered the interior of the 
man's car, their contents now splashed across the twisted 
and broken surfaces.

"Is that how you remember it, Miss?" the officer asked, 
looking back toward Laura. She had been staring at Jon with 
an expression of awe on her face, and quickly she 
neutralized her features as the eyes came back to her.

"Yes," she said, a sudden confidence in her voice. "I don't 
know what I was thinking, but I just couldn't stay in the 
car, knowing that it was going to get hit no matter what I 
did." She continued her story from there, although there 
wasn't much else to tell. Nothing in her voice would give 
the officers any reason to think that she was being 
anything less than truthful, and Jon felt himself somewhat 
impressed at the ease with which she bent the truth. Maybe 
it was a practiced skill, but he didn't think that was it. 
She was just the actress in the family, and she always had 
been. It was a skill that would certainly come in handy 
now, especially considering what terrible liars all the men 
in the family were.

Jon stayed for a while, until, finally, it came time for 
him to leave. Laura was loaded into a cop car bound for the 
nearest precinct, and there was nothing more for him to do 
there. With one last look toward his sister, he took off 
into the air, bound for his home. His job for the night was 
done, and he certainly didn't want to be there for what was 
bound to be an awkward night at his parents' place. If they 
needed him, they would call, but until then, his bed 
beckoned, and this time he would be answering the call.

***

The chair that Laura found herself in at the police station 
had seen better days, she thought as she wrinkled her nose. 
It had probably smelled good once, too, but the years of 
drunks and deadbeats and other criminals who had contempt 
for the rules of hygiene had taken its toll. A spring poked 
her uncomfortably from below, but she found herself not 
fidgeting, not wanting to stir up any of the other smells 
that lurked in the chair. Didn't the people working around 
here ever wonder what that funky odor coming from the 
corner of the office was? Did they even have a janitor on 
staff?

Laura sighed as she realized that there were much more 
important things to be dwelling on, no matter how much she 
wished she could just forget most of them. Certain things 
stood out in her mind about her experience on the freeway 
that night, not the least of which was the newfound respect 
she had for her brother. He was eight years older than her, 
and it seemed to her that by the time that she had become 
old enough to maybe want to hang out with him, he had 
already moved out, bound for college. Even before that, he 
had been involved in so many extracurricular activities in 
school that he wasn't around a whole lot, anyway. In her 
mind, he was just "Older Brother Jon," a generic 
personality residing in her brother's body. She had thought 
she knew him, flipping through the picture books, looking 
at the trophies in his room...seeing his portrait hanging 
in the hallowed high school halls. But accomplishments 
didn't make the man, and she was finding that out right now 
in spades.

He held a lot of respect for their dad, she knew, and he 
even followed in his footsteps, but now it didn't seem to 
her like he had done so blindly, or just for the glory of 
it all. Reading those teen magazines earlier should've made 
it clear that he hated the attention that being a Superman 
brought him, but she hadn't seen it until he got to work 
right in front of her. His face was so much like their 
dad's, and that made it easy for her to read the emotion 
borne on it. As he freed her friends from the car, she 
could see the worry, and the sadness. His arms wrapped 
gently around each body, cradling it lightly as he floated 
them to the softer ground at the shoulder of the road. 
Later, as the paramedics worked on each accident victim, he 
would check in on them, making sure that they were indeed 
all right. Caring, compassion, and a cool head in what was 
a definite crisis had all been present in him that night, 
and it made her proud to be his sister.

Add to it all the other tidbit of information he had thrown 
her way. "I'm no saint," he had said, and she wondered what 
he meant by that. Probably a lonely night in a police 
station, she thought with renewed curiosity. All this time 
she had figured that he had been the perfect son in every 
way - never in trouble, always setting the mark in school, 
and making his parents proud on a daily basis. Maybe she 
had been more oblivious that she had thought at home. Then 
again, she was living under the same roof as Superman for 
15 years and hadn't noticed that, either, so missing Jon's 
character flaws seemed small by comparison. Even so, it 
made her wonder what other skeletons lurked in the Kent 
closet. What dastardly deed had her father done in his wild 
younger days? What crimes had Lois Lane committed in her 
search for the ultimate story? These were interesting 
questions, and Laura had a feeling that the answers would 
be somehow liberating. No longer would she feel like she 
had such a standard to live up to. No longer would she 
think that it would be impossible to follow in their 
footsteps. And no longer would she feel as if she somehow 
didn't know her family. All the cards would truly be on the 
table.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew her out of her 
introspection, and as she looked up, she was greeted by the 
form of an older man, his hair more gray than not, the 
wrinkles on his face prominent. He had to be near 
retirement age, she thought, but at the same time, the way 
he carried himself almost seemed to be that of a younger 
man. His attire screamed that he was a cop, even though his 
badge or gun weren't displayed anywhere. "You're Laura 
Kent, right?" he asked, and Laura felt herself slump over. 
This was going to lead to yet more questioning, she was 
sure. As if the police hadn't already heard her 
manufactured story enough times tonight.

"Yeah, that's me," she said, aware of how flat her voice 
sounded. The cop just smiled at her.

"Bill Henderson," he said, taking a seat in the chair next 
to her, which could've been the twin to hers in more ways 
than one. He didn't seem to notice the odor, though, and 
took a sip of his coffee before extending his hand toward 
her. "I'm an old friend of your folks."

Laura looked suspiciously between Henderson's face and his 
hand, before finally forcing a smile on her face and 
shaking it. The smile he gave in return was genuine, and he 
settled back in the chair, relaxing against the stained 
fabric. "It's been a long time since I've seen one of your 
clan in here. I see a lot of your mother in you, but I tell 
you what, Lois Lane was a damn sight more animated when she 
was forced into these chairs."

Laura blinked a few times, turning what she knew to be an 
astonished face toward Henderson. Her mother's 
aggressiveness was the stuff of legends, but she had never 
heard stories of illegal acts. "Really?" Laura asked, and 
Henderson smiled at her again.

"Well, I think she mistook the phrase, 'freedom of the 
press,' to mean the freedom to break into wherever she 
pleased to get evidence for a story. All that stopped once 
she met your dad, but by then it was too late for these 
poor chairs. I think half the coffee stains on them can be 
attributed to her, either directly or indirectly."

By the time Bill finished his story, Laura found herself 
laughing gently. The old detective had a glimmer in his 
eyes, and something told her that part of his reason for 
seeing her was to give her ammunition against her mother 
when the inevitable 'I never did that when I was your age,' 
speech came around.

"So what are you in for?" Henderson asked, and the laughter 
immediately became a thing of the past.

"I was in a bad car wreck," she said, her gaze dropping to 
her hands. "I was driving when I shouldn't have been, after 
being out of the house when I shouldn't have been, and I 
got hit by a drunk driver."

"Sorry to hear that, kid," Henderson said, his voice filled 
with genuine sympathy. "You look pretty good for being in 
such a bad wreck, though."

She looked up at him, ready to give her rehearsed response, 
when he winked at her. What was that for, she wondered 
briefly, but before she could put much thought into it, he 
was speaking again. "You come from a hearty lineage, I 
know. Give my best to your folks," he said with a smile as 
he stood up and started to walk away. Laura felt her mouth 
fall open, and she immediately snapped it shut. If she 
didn't know any better, she'd swear...nah. Couldn't be. 
Still, there was another thing to ask her parents about 
when she got home.

Speaking of her parents...the main door to the station 
opened, and she could see her mom and dad walk in, the 
concern evident on their faces. They approached the front 
desk and talked with the cop manning it. After a while, the 
cop pointed toward her, and all heads turned so that 
suddenly she was the center of attention. She held up her 
hand and smiled weakly, and watched as they turned to thank 
the cop, then hurried back toward her. They seemed for all 
the world like worried parents, as well they should be, but 
she knew that underneath that concern were questions, lots 
of them. Accusations, possibly even anger, too. For now it 
was enough to know that they worried about her, but she'd 
expect no less. For now, she was glad they were here, to 
finally relieve her from her stint in the world's smelliest 
chair, but later.... Later was a whole other world, one 
that would appear sooner that she would ever want. And it 
was the later she dreaded.

***

It was safe to say that Clark was used to late nights. Part 
of being Superman was helping when he was needed, and 
plenty of nights had passed where he didn't even see his 
bed until the sun was already peeking over the horizon. 
Luckily, sleep to him was more of a luxury than a 
necessity, so he had been able to function on the scattered 
hour here and hour there of sleep that he could get, at 
least in his younger years. But then came marriage, and 
suddenly he wanted nothing more than to lie in that bed for 
eight hours a night with his wife by his side. When Lois 
was asleep, he would let his mind just drift, and it was 
amazing what those hours of blissful contemplation would do 
for him. The late nights still came from time to time, but 
they became less and less frequent as the call of duty at 
home took more of his time. Now he had Jon to help him out, 
but Clark could safely say that he wouldn't miss being out 
in the dead of night, virtually alone above a sleeping 
city.

Of course, just because he spent most of his evenings at 
home didn't mean that he couldn't easily get by keeping the 
same hours that he had in his youth, a fact that he was 
very grateful for this particular night. The clock on the 
dash of the car told had him that it was sometime between 2 
and 3 AM as they drove back toward home, Laura sitting 
silently in the back seat. Lois was in the passenger seat 
beside him, looking surprisingly awake. She was no stranger 
to the late nights either, having dragged him along on many 
a midnight stakeout in their reporting careers, but most of 
those had been in the years before the kids had come along. 
It was probably nervous energy keeping her awake right now, 
something that he could understand very well. Ever since 
they had left the precinct, she had hardly said a word to 
him, but she didn't have to. He knew that she was thinking 
the exact same thing as him, feeling the exact same mixture 
of fear and concern and anger, and probably marveling at 
the unreality of the situation. There were still times when 
Clark felt the need to pinch himself just to convince 
himself that this wasn't just some sort of paranoid dream.

The downward spiral had started after he had told Laura 
about his alter ego. He had been gentle and supporting and 
loving, and everything that he had so carefully planned out 
had happened; everything, that was, except the reaction he 
got. In retrospect, he shouldn't have been surprised at how 
hard she took it, and what a shock to her system it would 
be. Lois tried to warn him about it, but he had 
optimistically believed that Laura, who had always been 
very close to him, would take it all in stride. Naturally, 
her inner turmoil had caused him to become anxious, but if 
history had taught him anything, it was that he just had to 
let her work it out for herself. Jon had found out under 
much worse conditions, as had CJ, and both of them had 
turned out just fine, and she would too. Of course, telling 
himself that and believing it were two different things, 
and he had to constantly fight the urge to check up on her. 
When the time was right, he was sure that she would come to 
him, and until then, he had to wait.

The waiting had continued that night, and it took all his 
patience to watch Laura retreat to her room once again. He 
had set his worries aside as he went to bed, allowing Lois 
to take his mind off things for a while before they finally 
drifted off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that their 
daughter was only a room away. The ringing of the telephone 
brought him out of his slumber, and at first he considered 
ignoring it. Most of the late night phone calls they got 
were either crank calls or wrong numbers, and anyone who 
really needed to get in contact with him knew other ways 
that were more effective. Still, for whatever reason, he 
reached out for the phone on the nightstand next to him, 
sitting up as he drew it toward his ear.

As soon as he heard Laura's voice, all remnants of sleep 
quickly fell away, and his body tensed up. The phone 
groaned under the stress of his grip, and he had to force 
himself to relax as Laura told him where she was and gave 
him the reader's digest, obviously censored version of what 
had gotten her there. A million thoughts had shot through 
his head, not the least of which was to wonder how and why 
she had gotten into trouble without him knowing. Laura 
wasn't the deceptive type or the rebellious type. She was a 
good kid, and good kids just didn't end up in accidents 
along the highway in the wee hours of the morning on a 
weeknight. At some point during the conversation, Lois had 
awoken, sitting up and leaning in next to him to try and 
hear both sides of the conversation. Her arms had snaked 
around him as he had asked Laura if she was all right, 
although he remained oddly unresponsive to her until he 
heard the words that made the whole situation bearable once 
again. Unharmed, she said, and Clark had no doubt that that 
was true in a physical sense, but underneath her words he 
heard something that made him question how she was 
mentally. Even so, he found himself relaxing in his wife's 
embrace, taking no small amount of strength just from the 
fact that she was there. Even after he hung up the phone, 
Clark just turned to hold her for a minute in silence, 
trying to formulate the perfect way to tell her that their 
daughter was at the police station. There really was no way 
to tell that to any mother, he decided before pulling away 
and telling her the news as plainly and simply as possible. 
In her eyes he could see a certain relief, something that 
told him that she expected something worse, and in a way, 
he supposed that her relief comforted him somewhat. It was 
hard to chase the dark thoughts away, and the images of 
twisted metal and bodies that he had seen so many times 
juxtaposed, if only for a moment, with the angelic face of 
his daughter. But the supportive gaze that Lois gave him 
reminded him once again of the strength that she infused in 
him, and it gave him all the motivation he needed to 
finally get up, get dressed, and face the demons that 
awaited him at the police station.

It was as they drove toward the precinct that Lois brought 
up the question that he had been shying away from asking 
himself, and that was just how they should handle the 
situation. No, it wasn't the first time they'd had to pick 
a child up from the police station, but so many things 
about this time were vastly different than previously. The 
last couple of days had been emotionally rough for 
everyone, and even though Jon had tried to smooth things 
out with her, it hadn't been a success. Something had made 
her embrace certain things that she had found repugnant 
before; something had made her become irresponsible, even 
though she was one of the most responsible kids that Clark 
had ever met. That something was most likely her newly 
discovered family secret, and that thought brought Clark 
more guilt than he could've expected. Indirectly, he had a 
hand in that accident, in the lives of those people who 
were hurt because of something Laura did or didn't do. What 
if he'd told Laura their secret earlier? What if he had 
been more involved with her after he told her? What if....

Clark felt an elbow poke in him the ribs, starting him out 
of his reverie. "You're obsessing," Lois said, giving him a 
knowing look.

A half smile managed to form on his lips before his 
previous thoughts immediately chased it away. "Why do you 
think she was out there, Lois?" he asked, the misery 
sinking into his soul as he finally voiced the question 
that he was afraid to answer. "What would motivate her to 
do something like that?"

Lois looked at him carefully, her eyes calculating. Several 
long seconds elapsed before she finally said anything, the 
silence in the car becoming heavier with every moment of 
time that passed. "I know that you feel it's your fault, 
and I can understand why you would think that," Lois 
replied. "After all, before yesterday she would never have 
even considered doing anything that would land her in a 
situation like this. But whether she found out yesterday, 
or 10 years ago, or even 3 weeks from now, I still think 
she would've had the same reaction. She was afraid, Clark, 
and confused. Finding out such a profound secret causes 
your whole view of the world to turn on its ear, I ought to 
know. Maybe what she did was part of an attempt to find 
herself, or maybe it was the typical teenage response to 
trauma. In the end, she's the only one who knows, but I 
would wager that she found out a lot about herself 
tonight." A smile broke out on Lois's face as she leaned 
back in her seat. "Of course, I could be completely wrong, 
but I was an obstinate teenager one time, believe it or 
not."

"Oh, I believe it," Clark said playfully, even as Lois's 
words continued to ring in his ears. Maybe Laura really 
would've reacted the same regardless of when they told her, 
and he had to admit that Lois would know the thought 
process of a teenage girl a lot better than he would. But 
accidents took place during a single, gruesome moment in 
time, and if the same thing had happened only a week 
earlier, and if Laura had had occasion to be on that 
interstate at the same time of night, then that other 
driver wouldn't have been there to cross the center line. 
Timing was everything here, and a moment in time that he 
had chosen to tell her, one that he considered to be nearly 
perfect at the time, was now tragically wrong. Because of 
that, there was no mistaking his role in this accident.

"But you're still not convinced," Lois said, drawing Clark 
away from his introspection once again. He became aware of 
the fact that a frown had formed on his face once again, 
giving Lois every reason to believe that his thoughts were 
contrary to the teasing that she had just tried to 
instigate.

"No, I'm not," Clark said with a sigh, his hands tightening 
around the steering wheel. A quick glance back at Lois 
revealed an exasperated expression that he was very 
familiar with. They could explain their reasoning for 
thinking the way they did until the cows came home, and it 
wouldn't stop the fact that Lois would invariably think 
that he was exaggerating his role in this, and he would 
steadfastly believe that, if anything, he was understating 
it. These arguments happened at least once a month, and she 
was usually right, yet he still tried to take 
responsibility for everything, that's just who he was. 
Guilt was a powerful emotion, and even though he had 
accepted his limitations years ago, there was always that 
core belief that unless he had done everything he could, 
then somehow he hadn't done enough.

The evening was uncomfortable enough without his obsessive 
attitude making it worse, he decided. Maybe his fears would 
be assuaged when he talked with Laura, or maybe he could 
find a way to do right by the families of the kids who had 
gotten hurt. In any case, despite her strong face, Clark 
knew his wife enough to know that she wasn't as confident 
about their trip to the police station as she let on. She 
needed his comfort as much as he had needed hers earlier, 
and together, they needed to be strong for the sake of 
their daughter. "I'll concede that this isn't the time for 
my worries, though," he said with a smile as he reached out 
for her hand. The police station loomed close, and the 
question at hand still hadn't been answered. Just what were 
they going to do with their daughter?

Lois rewarded him with a grateful grin, giving his hand a 
firm squeeze. "No, this is a time for Laura," she said, 
completing his train of thought. "We have to show her that 
we love her no matter what, we have to guide her through 
whatever crisis led her to do what she did, and we have to 
let her know that if she does anything even remotely 
similar to this, that she won't been seen anywhere outside 
of her bedroom for at least a month. You can demonstrate to 
her the effectiveness of your vision gizmo, too, just so 
that she knows what she's up against."

Clark couldn't help but give a soft chuckle in response. 
Leave it to Lois boil the situation down to its bare bones. 
"Hell hath no fury like a mother dragged out of bed in the 
middle of the night to pick up her kid at the station," 
Clark said, drawing a smug look from his wife. It was then 
that they finally pulled into the parking lot, parked the 
car, and got out. They walked hand in hand, their minds set 
toward one singular purpose as they entered the station.

After talking to the desk clerk, they were immediately 
pointed toward Laura, who sitting in the ancient chairs 
toward the back of the precinct. For a very brief moment, 
Clark had a flash of memory, a picture in his mind of a 
much younger Lois sitting in those chairs, the look on her 
face making it clear to one and all that she would mow down 
the next person to ask her a question. A smile formed on 
his lips as he remembered, before he brought his mind back 
to the present, and his daughter, who certainly could've 
been mistaken for a younger version of his wife. Her 
expression, though, was a far cry from the indignation and 
exasperation that Lois had worn in the same position. Her 
eyes looked a little too large, and a little too red. As 
she caught sight of him, he could also see a sense of 
foreboding, which was only natural. She didn't know if they 
would be mad at her, relieved because she was all right, 
hurt because she disobeyed them, or a combination of all of 
the above, and she didn't know what they would do at first 
sight. That should be a silly question, he thought as he 
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