Chloe closed her eyes as the sleek jet Bruce had sent for them lifted off the ground. It seemed too much to contemplate, so recently having her own family restored to her, that Dick Grayson lost his own so tragically. Clark had been somber, once again the theme of death more than occupying his thoughts. Chloe wished there was a way to make it go away, to ease his mind and comfort him, but there was none. Instead, Clark had invested all of his worry on to the deceptively delicate shoulders of his cousin.

"Earth to Clark?" Chloe said, opening her eyes. "Where are you right now?"

"Thinking Kara had the right idea flying herself there. We could have been in Gotham already." Clark replied dully, his eyes not moving from the window. Chloe sighed and Clark smiled reluctantly. "She accused me of treating her like a baby."

"Accused? Clark, you are convicted of that." Chloe smiled, leaning over to take his hand in her own. "You've been the posterboy for overprotective. "

"I'm just afraid for her, Chloe." Clark admitted. "When it was just me, I figured that if people knew, they'd try and hurt me, and I was scared. But if that happened to Kara… she's so open and vulnerable. I don't think I could be responsible for what happened to anyone who hurt her once I got my hands on them."

"Clark." Chloe squeezed his hand. "That's love. She feels the same way about you."

Clark nodded, holding Chloe's hand in his own. "Look at Dick. He's alone in the world now. Who's going to be looking out for him now? It's not like Bruce is going to let him stay forever."

"Clark?" Chloe looked at him quizzically. "You aren't suggesting that Dick come to live at the farm, are you?"

"Well," Clark smiled sheepishly. "He has no place else to go, and…"

"Clark, not a good idea." Chloe shook her head. "I know you want to help, but maybe the best way in this case is keeping in touch, being Dick's friend. The last thing you need is Kara's little boyfriend living at the farm."

Clark sighed. "I want to do something, Chloe. I wasn't there…if I had been there I could have stopped it somehow…"

"You can't be everywhere, Clark and people are going to die. That doesn't make it your fault." Chloe kissed Clark's hand. "You can't be responsible for the whole world."

"I feel like I should be, Chloe." Clark looked back at the clouds through the window.

"Hey." Chloe slid out of the leather seat and knelt beside Clark, looking up at him. "Stop beating up the guy I love, will you? I can't stand to see this."

Clark smiled. "He's really easy to pound on, you know. Big dumb alien and all." Chloe rolled her eyes, grinning, and Clark leaned down to kiss her nose. "I love you too, Chloe. Thank you." He looked around restlessly. "Might as well find something to do then. Is this the plane with the Xbox? We've got time 'til we get to Gotham City. Let's see if I have what it takes to be a Jedi."

"You've got what it takes." Chloe replied, moving back into her seat and picking up her discarded laptop to resume her research on the Graysons. "Superman."

Karen Starke stretched, opening her eyes. She loved mornings. What Karen hated was dreaming. In dreams she saw things that she couldn't comprehend and that Daddy could not always explain. Getting out of bed, Karen walked to her vanity and looked at her reflection. Yesterday, she was so surprised at how much older she was than the night before that she had melted the mirror with blasts of heat lasers from her eyes. Today, her reflection was the same as yesterday, and Karen nodded. Daddy had said she was now almost seventeen. Wheat-gold hair, cut short, wide dark blue eyes and a curvy figure that had threatened to burst out of her mother's tailored clothes. The shopping trip for new clothes had been all Karen needed to know that she was not a freak at all, but very much approved of by every male who happened to walk past her. Abilities had come up quickly, Karen remembered being small and lifting Daddy's car to look for a lost doll. They had moved immediately after that, Mom pretty upset about leaving her vegetable garden behind. The new house was more secluded, which was just as well, because Karen had discovered she could fly after tripping in the treehouse and falling over the edge. Karen had held her arms out, and instead of even coming near the ground, she had soared in a long arc over the tall trees, crowing like Peter Pan. Mom had started calling her Tinkerbell after that, cutting Karen's thick hair short making her look and feel more pixie like. Home-schooled, Karen remembered reading "Peter Pan" as a little girl and loving every moment of it, and often wished she could fly away with the Lost Boys for some great adventure in Neverland. Her mother had moved her on to other books as quickly as Karen could devour them, but "Peter Pan" was still a favorite. The stack of books at the door were a testament to her ability to learn. The subject matter was varied, and Karen eagerly devoured each one. She had learned chemistry and physics working with her father in his basement lab, and spoke several languages fluently. Karen dressed in a flash, scooping her cat, Streaky, from the bed on her way down to breakfast. He purred loudly as he relaxed in her grip, content that after being released from her embrace, breakfast would be waiting. This was their morning routine.

The thing was that Karen could not account for the lost time between ten and seventeen. She saw things on television, knew that girls went through 'changes' at about eleven or twelve, but Karen had no memory of ever experiencing that. She simply went to bed a ten year old, and woke up a seventeen year old girl. She assumed things happened simply because there was no real variance in anything. The same music was popular today as had been when she was ten, which seemed strange, and Mom's clothes were oddly fashionable for being nearly eight years old.

"Morning, Tink." Mom smiled, setting the usual breakfast of a cheese omelette, toast and fresh fruit at Karen's place. "Sleep well? You look tired."

"I'm fine, Mom." Karen replied, setting the cat down near his bowls and filling one up with milk. "I was just thinking."

"About?" Mom asked, sipping her coffee. "I can't answer your science questions anymore, you know that. Dad can barely keep up with you."

"No, this is a girl question, I guess." Karen poked at her omelette. "Have I ever, well, you know…" She looked at her mother. "I don't remember going through puberty, Mom. But look at me." Nancy Starke sighed, wiping her hands on the green and white dishtowel. Karen held her arms out at her sides, and opened her indigo eyes wide. "I look like one of those girls on MTV."

"God forbid." Mom crossed herself out of an old habit. "You are, well endowed, sweetheart." She crossed her arms over her own thin frame and smiled. "Grandmother Starke was like you, tall and curvy. I'll have to get the pictures out. I used to wish I'd look like you, but the women in my family were all rail thin and curveless."

"I guess." Karen nodded. "Do I have my drivers license?"

"No." Mom smiled. "Dad and I were just thinking it's time, too. We can start practicing today."

"Good." Karen took a bite of omelette and chewed thoughtfully. "Mom?"

Nancy sighed. "What, sweetheart?" Once started, Karen could ask questions for hours, and Nancy, a social worker with a masters in child development would often find herself at a loss. These were the things she and her husband had not counted on when bringing Karen home, but Nancy wouldn't change a thing. Life had been wonderful since Karen had come to live with them.

"How come I have no friends?" Karen put her fork down. "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing. Oh, nothing, honey." Nancy shook her head. "The truth is, you were sick as a baby, and Dad used one of his experiments to help you get well. We've just been so overprotective since then…didn't want you to get sick again." She reached out and cupped her daughters face with a long hand. "I couldn't stand to lose you."