Author's Note: Okay, so this story is here just so I can have another complete one on my record. This chapter is basically a series of vignettes detailing some of Clark's defining moments (and yes, the dog from the first one is Krypto, but he won't be called that yet). The story as a whole is an idea that I've had in my head for a while. It's meant to be a subversion of most modern comic book origins where the hero has those they care about dying as a part of the backstory. Personally, I felt that would be very un-Superman, considering he's a paragon for Earth.

This story is just a rough draft of sorts, so feel free to lob some critisism towards me so I can fine tune it.

For now, enjoy, and please review.

Chapter 1: A Life Less Extraordinary

Smallville, Kansas, May 17th, 1999

It was mid-afternoon as Jonathan and Martha Kent walked into the local pet shop with their son, Clark. The Kents were well known in the tiny community that was aptly named Smallville. Jonathan had dark blonde, wavy hair and green eyes. He had a rugged appearance that was commonly considered 'country handsome'. His wife, Martha, was commonly referred to as beautiful, with vibrant red hair and green eyes. Many found it unusual that those two could be a couple considering their opposite upbringings, with Martha coming from a moderately wealthy family from Coast City. Both, however, were in their early thirties and both still had the spark of romance that could be seen with a much younger couple.

Clark, on the other hand, looked nothing like either of his parents, with jet black hair and blue eyes. It was common knowledge that he was found by the Kents in Shuster's Field, likely abandoned by his birth parents, nearly five years prior. Today, he was getting a pet. Jonathan had promised to get him a dog after Clark had begged him, and coming from a four year old, it didn't take him long to relent.

"Okay, Clark. You can get one pet. And you have to take care of it," Jonathan told his son, somewhat unnecessarily in Clark's eyes. As Clark mindlessly drifted around the store, his parents went to talk to the owner, Mr. Howard.

However, when Clark reached the dogs' section, he was set upon by a small Golden Retriever, who greeted him as an old friend by licking him profusely as soon as Clark picked him up. "Funny," Mr. Howard began, with mild annoyance at the fact that the dog was loose, "I've never seen that dog react to anyone like that before. Mostly he'd just growl at them." Proving the owner's point, the dog growled slightly at him before obeying Clark's order to heel.

"How much?" Mr. Kent asked as he saw the eager 'can-we-keep-him' look on Clark's face.

"About $200," was the response and, after a bit of haggling down to $125, the Kents drove home with a new member of the family.

Smallville Medical Center, August 4th, 2001

The past two years had been Clark's most turbulent. A few weeks after starting kindergarten, he began hearing things. First as loud whispers, then all at once; hiding in a janitor's closet didn't help, but he was lucky his mom came to help him focus.

Then there was his Grampa Hiram's cancer. Clark was told he wouldn't last long and all Clark could do is cry at his Grampa's bedside. Despite all the power he'd gained over the past couple of years, he couldn't help his Grampa.

"Clark..." Grampa, who was basically an older version of Jonathan, began weakly as he attempted to move closer to his grandson, "You may have..." he coughed, "You may have the strength of a Greek god, but don't you dare believe you can save everyone..." he coughed again and, with a smile, continued, "You can't stop the countdown. We're all born with an expiration date and can only hope to live a full life. All you can do is your best, remember..." and the monitor that was giving off a steady beat that Clark ignored emitted a single tone. Doctors rushed in and urged Clark out, with the help of a wet-eyed Jonathan.

Hiram Kent was no more.

December 18th, 2007

It was supposed to be a simple field trip to Central City, but then it started snowing on the way back. It had to be the worst snowstorm to hit Kansas in years, but that wasn't what crossed Clark's mind as the school bus made it's return trip to Smallville. Instead, it was on Lana Lang, with her raven black hair and shining emerald eyes. Clark couldn't help but stare at her, she was probably the prettiest girl in the seventh grade.

"Earth to Clark, come in Clark," declared Barry Allen, the brown haired, green eyed boy sitting next to Clark as he snapped his fingers in front of Clark's face, "You playing Dreamweaver in your head head again?" Barry was Clark's best, and only, friend at school. the two of them met in the first grade when Barry couldn't run fast enough from the bullies.

"Hmm..." Clark responded, his attention split. The bus ride continued, though slowly through the thick layer of snow.

As the lone bus drove across Loeb Bridge, it began to swerve. Clark immediately swung into action, pulling his hoodie over his head in an attempt to obscure his face and raced toward the back as quickly and inconspicuously as he could. He opened the emergency door and leaped down to keep the front end of the bus from going into the now frozen Elbow River in an attempt to keep the bus out of it. With all his might, he pulled the bus back to safety and quickly returned to his seat with everything back in it's place.

The bus driver then called roll, giving himself and the students a chance to calm down from the crisis, and all Clark could hope is that no one saw him. Though he quickly reassured himself, if they did, at least their parents won't believe them.

As it turned out, at least two of the students saw him... and their parents believed them. Mom was able to quickly persuade Mr. and Mrs. Lang that Lana was just seeing things in her panic, but Mrs. Ross was a different story.

She called Clark a God-sent, something that unnerved Clark greatly, and served as the reason he sat out in his father's old Dodge Charger. He mostly came out there to think, and he was about to get out and see if Mrs. Ross was gone, when his Dad climbed into the driver's seat through the window. "We need to talk," Dad stated seriously as he turned the ignition and drove off down the road.

A few minutes of awkward silence passed as they continued their drive, neither of them wanting to start the inevitable conversation. Clark took a few short breaths, knowing that it was better to just get it over with. "What was I supposed to do, let them die?" Clark began quietly.

His Dad sighed, "I... I don't know, Clark. There's a part of me that want's to say yes, but your Grampa Hiram would likely rise from the grave and give me a swift kick," Clark smiled at that, "And it would fly in the face of everything your mother and I have tried to teach you," he sighed, "In the end, I just want to keep you safe. We're entering uncharted waters here. You may not be like most kids, Clark, but your mom and I love you all the same. We know we raised you right and, in the end, we can trust you to decide how to go from here."

As they drove back home, Clark thought about the one thing that hung on his mind since he saved everyone on that bus; he felt proud, like he'd finally used his gifts for what they were meant for. In the end, though, he knew he'd have to be more careful, and that wouldn't be a problem.