AN: I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas or whatever holiday you celebrate. If you've come looking for an escape from the bliss and joy of the day, then you've found it for I'm sorry to say that this is NOT a happy chapter.

If you can't guess from the title, this chapter gets right into the nitty-gritty of Krypton. I've been so nervous about this scene that I would mess it up and make all the die hard comic fans out there flame me. I'm not a comic reader, so my love and knowledge of Supes comes totally from the movies. Thus, you will recognize many of the lines in this chapter as being directly lifted from Superman I – and I fully acknowledge that! Also, I got the Richard Donner version of Supes II for Christmas and stole a few lines from that as well. (And boy you should have seen my face as I watched the scene between Kal-El and Jor-El having already written this one with no knowledge of what was coming! Whoa!) But the movies only took me so far, and so for the rest of the information, I used the Superman Through the Ages website, home of the Superman Encyclopedia and The House of El family tree. Some of Jor-El's dialogue is mine, but I tried very hard to blend mine in with what I took from these other sources.

As usual, I have to thank my beta readers who both told me not to cut the opening scene from this chapter. It's a long chapter and I considered cutting it down to make it easier to read, but both Hellish and htbthomas said it should stay. So it stayed.

Lastly, I would like to dedicate this chapter to Marlon Brando who will forever embody Jor-El in my mind- even more so now that I have seen the Richard Donner Supes II. It did my heart such joy to watch the end of the extras DVD for Superman Returns to see the clip of Brando saying – in perfect Jor-El dead pan –

"The virtuous spirit has no need for thanks or approval. Only the certain conviction that what has been done is right. Develop such conviction in yourself, El – Al… Kal-El... Ralph… whatever your name is."

Age 12 – Krypton

The first thing I was aware of was that the air smelled of bacon. Then I realized that the bed I was in felt very different from my normal bed. My eyes blinked open to find myself in a room so unfamiliar that it actually took me a moment to realize where I was. And then I noticed how quiet it was. No loud city sounds. No water splashing against the deck.

Kansas. I was in Kansas with my…with Clark. And this was his old room in the house he grew up in.

Suddenly, the relative quiet of the house was disturbed by the sound of music playing downstairs. Big-band music that sounded almost… familiar to me. Then, to my absolute horror, the house was filled with some of the worst singing I've ever heard in my life.

"You leave the Pennsylvania Station 'bout a quarter to four. Read a magazine and then you're in Baltimore!"

It wasn't that he couldn't sing at all, but rather that he was just slightly off pitch enough to truly clash with the music he was singing along to. I grimaced as he screeched, "Dinner in the diner. Nothing could be finer than to have your ham and eggs in Car-o-lina!"

I started down the steps hesitantly. Did he want me to hear him singing? He had to know I could hear him. I peered around the corner of the kitchen at him to find that not only was he singing – and by this time he was doing a poor imitation of a trumpet as well– but he was halfway dancing around the room, holding up a spatula as a pretend microphone.

"Pardon me, boy. WAH WAH!! Is that the Chattanooga Choo Choo? WAH WAH! Track twenty-nine. Wah-ah! Boy, you can gimme a shine!"

He was so awful it was funny and I couldn't help but laugh. He turned around, smiling brightly, to see me standing there, very openly laughing at him. That didn't stop him for one moment. He kept right on singing, louder and more off key than before.

I made a face at him, "What are you doing?"

"Fixing breakfast. Are you hungry?"

I looked over at the table to see what he had whipped up for us to eat. After the take-out pizza last night, I was stunned to actually find a home-cooked meal of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. My eyes went wide. "Are we having company?"

"Nope. Just us."

He'd fixed enough food to feed a small army. I smirked at him, "You know I'm only twelve, right? I can't eat this much."

He pulled out a chair for me. "So just eat what you want."

I sat down, looking at the food skeptically, and waited for him to join me. He took the last helping of eggs off the stove and scraped them onto my plate before turning the volume down on the record player.

"I've never seen one of those before," I admitted.

"A record player? Really?"

I shrugged. "I have an iPod."

"Well," he sighed, sitting down across from me at the table, "this was my mother's. She always had music playing in the morning. Glenn Miller was one of her favorites." Then he noticed I wasn't eating. "Something wrong with the food?"

"Oh, no." Against my better judgment, I picked up my fork and took a bite of my breakfast. To my great surprise, it was really good. "You can cook?" I said, amazed.

He chuckled. "You can't grow up on a farm without learning how to cook, Jason."

I shoved my mouth full of delicious, fluffy pancakes and nearly swallowed them whole. "Yeah, but apparently you can grow up listening to music every morning and never learn how to sing."

He paused with his fork midway to his mouth and smirked at me. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No, I'm telling the truth. You're a horrible singer," I laughed and took another bite of food.

"Well, gee… thanks!" he said, shifting in his seat. "See if I make you breakfast ever again."

I shrugged and dug into my plate more thoroughly.

"Not all of us can be born with musical talent." He took a drink of his orange juice, eyeing me with interest. "I'm still not sure where you get it from."

I swallowed the bite I had and stared back at him, uncertain I had heard him correctly. He only smiled at me and took another bite of food.

"Who played piano?" I asked, indicating the instrument with my empty fork.

"My mom," he replied without looking up at me.

"Your human mom?" I clarified.

His eyes met mine. "Yes."

I bit my lip. "Do you even know what your real mother did?"

He nodded. "She was an astronaut."

"Wow," I said, impressed, though it made sense on some level. He was an alien, after all. He'd flown through space to get here. "Was your real dad an astronaut, too?"

"No, he was a scientist."

"Oh," I said, pushing my food around on my plate.

"Would you like to meet him?" he asked, leaving me a bit stunned.

I gaped at him. "I thought he was dead."

"He is," he smiled sadly.

"Then how can I meet him?"

"Let me show you."

I finished my breakfast in a hurry and gathered up my things from the bedroom upstairs. Nearly giddy with excitement, I charged down the stairs to find him waiting for me by the door. The jeans and t-shirt were gone. Clark Kent had once again been replaced with Superman. My stomach did a strange sort of flop and I wondered why it was that I could make fun of Clark and laugh with Clark over eggs and pancakes, but when it came to dealing with Superman, I felt like a total idiot.

He smiled and led me out onto the porch, where I once again put my arm over his shoulder as he lifted off the ground and headed up into the sky in one swift motion. I could totally get used to this whole flying business. Everything was so much more peaceful, so much quieter up here. And even though we were miles and miles above the earth, I felt so safe and secure – like I belonged here. And I never felt like I belonged anywhere.

I could soon see snow and ice below us. "I don't have a coat," I said.

"You won't need one," he assured. "You'll be warm enough, I promise."

And then I saw it, rising up from the snow and reaching towards the sky with its massive pillars of white. It sparkled under the bright sunlight, as if it were made of diamonds, casting a million tiny rainbows off of its surface. It was quite possibly the most amazing thing I had ever seen in my entire life.

We flew directly over it and slowly drifted down to land right in the middle of the structure. He released me gently and smiled at me as I turned around in a slow circle, taking in the epic size of the place and the general splendor of it all. My mouth hung open and I'm sure I sounded foolish when I said, "This is the most incredible place on the planet!"

"You like it then?"

"Like it?" I gaped at him. "It's – it's – I mean—" There weren't words to describe it. All I could come up with was, "Wow. Just…WOW!"

He chuckled lightly.

"How did you build this place?" I asked.

"I didn't. It kind of… built itself."

I thought about that for a second. "You mean like… like New Krypton?"

He nodded. "Yes, exactly like New Krypton, except no kryptonite," he finished with an unusual expression on his face.

I wasn't sure if he was trying to be funny or what? Whatever he meant, I didn't laugh. "If kryptonite can kill you… what do you suppose it would do to me?"

His face hardened instantly. "I'm not sure. A part of you is human, and humans aren't affected by kryptonite. So, I really can't answer that, and to be honest with you, I hope we never find out."

I bit my lip and thought some more. "What is kryptonite, anyway? I mean, if it's pieces of Krypton… and you're from Krypton… then how can it be deadly to you? Bits of earth aren't deadly to humans, right?"

He stepped closer to me. "That's right, but just as my body reacts differently here on earth under the radiation of the yellow sun, so do pieces of kryptonite. It's sadly ironic, don't you think, that all that's left of my home is the only thing that can really hurt me."

I looked around at the fortress and spotted what looked like a control panel holding dozens of pure crystals. "I remember those," I announced. "Lex Luthor had them."

"Yes," he said sternly. "He stole them from me and used them in a way that they were never meant to be used." He approached me slowly, his face softening as he drew close. "You know, Jason, you don't have to worry about him anymore. He'll never hurt you again."

"I know," I replied. "He's dead."

"Yes."

Something in the way he looked down at me made me shiver for the first time since we had arrived at this ice palace. I wet my lips, trying to ignore the feeling, and picked up one of the crystals. "So, if the crystals weren't supposed to be used to make a new continent, than what are they here for?"

He smiled again, and it was as if the mood shifted completely. "They hold information. Everything you want to know about Krypton or our people – or really any of the various planets across the known universe – it's all stored in the crystals."

"How?" I said, not really believing him.

"Let me show you." He slipped one of the larger crystals into an empty tube on the control panel. The lights shifted all around the fortress, and I was suddenly very afraid. I felt his hand on my shoulder, reassuring me that everything would be fine. To my utter amazement, a huge face appeared in the ice pillars holding the fortress up. The face was duplicated many times over all around us. And then a voice sounded, deep and rich and precise, echoing eerily off the walls of the chamber.

"My son. You do not remember me. I am Jor-El. I am your father. By now, I will have been dead many thousands of your years. You are the only survivor of the planet Krypton. Imbedded in the crystals before you is the total accumulation of all literature and scientific fact from dozens of other worlds, spanning the twenty-eight known galaxies. There are questions to be asked. Here, in this Fortress of Solitude, we shall try to find the answers together. So, my son, Kal-El, speak."

I closed my jaw, which was still hanging wide open, and swallowed hard. Questions, the man had said. I had so many questions. But was I supposed to ask them now? I looked up at my… at Superman… for approval. "What do I do?" I asked quietly.

"What do you want to know?"

My heart was racing. I could ask anything and have it answered. For some reason, I couldn't find the courage to ask what I most wanted to know for fear that he wouldn't approve of my questions. I wanted to know – no – I needed to know where I fit into all of this, but I didn't think that should be my first question. I decided to start with something a bit simpler.

"What did he say his name was?" I asked shyly.

"Jor-El."

"Jorral?" I said, testing the name.

"No. Jor-El." And he spelled it for me, complete with the hyphen.

"Jor-El," I repeated. "And what did he call you?"

"Kal-El. It's my Kryptonian name – my real name."

I squinted up at him. "So your name has a hyphen, too?"

"Yes."

"Does that mean that El is your last name?"

His face twisted in thought. "Sort of. Kryptonian names work differently than human names. I am a descendant of the house of El, as was my father. The symbol that I wear is my family crest," he explained, placing his hand on the red-and-yellow emblem on his chest.

"I thought it stood for Superman?"

He chuckled. "Most people do, but it doesn't. It's the symbol for the house of El. Now, all the males in my family line have a name that ends in El, which is similar to a last name. However, the females take on the full name of the man they are directly connected to. For example, my mother's name was Lara. Her father's name was Lor-Van, from the house of Van. So as a young girl she was known as Lara Lor-Van. When she married my father, instead of becoming Lara El, her name changed to Lara Jor-El. So it doesn't work exactly the same way as a last name here on earth. The last name only passes from father to son."

Another chill shuddered through my body. "Then… what's my Kryptonian name?" I asked in a shaky voice.

His eyes met mine and I could tell from the way he simply stared down at me that he didn't have an answer.

"I mean… I am of the house of El, right?" Again my question was met with silence. I couldn't look at him for another second, so I pulled my focus away and looked down at the pure white ground. "That's okay. It's no big deal really if I don't have one. I'd never be able to tell anyone, so what would be the point of having one? I just… wondered." I was babbling, which was never a good sign. "But really, it's okay. I'll just be… Jason White."

Without warning, he was kneeling in front of me, looking into my eyes with such power that had he not been holding me by my arms I would have taken a step back. "There is nothing wrong with being Jason White," he said meaningfully. "I didn't think you would want a Kryptonian name. I hadn't anticipated that, and for that I'm sorry. If you want a name, I will give you one."

"Okay," I said softly.

"Now," he smiled, "what else do you want to know?"

"Well," I pondered if the time was ready for me to ask about myself and again opted to stick to more basic questions. "What really happened to Krypton? How did it get destroyed?"

He nodded and stood up to look back at the large face of the man called Jor-El. "Father, how was Krypton destroyed?"

"The core of Krypton is mainly composed of uranium, which for untold ages has built up a cycle of chain-impulses that are increasing in power with every moment. These impulses cause the core to react in much the same way as would the atom bomb on the planet Earth. From my vantage point, Krypton has not yet been destroyed, but I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that the planet will soon begin to annihilate itself until one final cataclysmic eruption when Krypton will explode and be no more."

I considered his words for a moment, because they didn't make much sense to me. "So the planet blew up by itself?"

"Yes," answered Superman.

"If they knew what was happening, why didn't they all just leave?"

"Because the majority of people didn't believe my father. One of the other scientists explained the rumblings and quakes of the planet to simply be a shift in the orbit of the planet."

"But I thought Kryptonians were supposed to be so much more advanced than us. It sounds to me like they weren't very smart when it came to saving their planet. One scientist has a different theory and no one takes the time to check and make sure he's telling the truth? That's not very intelligent."

"No, it's not," Superman agreed. "But that's why my father sent me here - to save me from the destruction."

"Why didn't he save himself?"

"Because he promised not to leave Krypton."

"I don't get it," I said honestly. "I mean, I understand why he saved you, since you are his son. But didn't he know that by sending you here that you would be…" The words got lost in my throat. "I mean, there's no one like you here." I looked away from him, unsure of how to explain what I was thinking. "I know how awful it is to be able to do things… and not know why you can do them. It's confusing. At least… at least I had…" I couldn't bring myself to say it for some reason.

"What, Jason?" he probed gently.

"Well, with my hearing… when that happened… you talked me through it." I could feel my face turning bright red with nervousness.

"Yes, I did. And I will talk you through whatever else may come your way," he promised.

Hesitantly, I glanced up at him. "But you didn't have that. Your parents were dead."

"No, I didn't," he confirmed. "But that's why my father gave me this place, so that I could learn who I was and where I came from. I was eighteen when I first heard the name Krypton and came to understand the responsibility I had to this planet."

"Responsibility? You mean as Superman?"

"Yes. I was told that—" he stopped suddenly and addressed Jor-El once again. "Father, what is my purpose here on earth with regards to my abilities?"

The face began to speak again in that melodic voice that seemed somehow familiar and yet very foreign at the same time. "You have great powers, only some of which you have as yet discovered. You must use these powers wisely and often with restraint. You are superior to others. You can only become inferior by setting yourself above them. Lead by inspiration. Let your actions and ideals become a touchstone against which mankind may learn how to serve the common good. While it is forbidden for you to interfere with human history itself, your leadership can stir others to their own capacity for moral betterment.

"The virtuous spirit has no need for thanks or approval. Only the certain conviction that what has been done is right. Develop such conviction in yourself, Kal-El. The human heart on your planet is still subject to small jealousies, lies, and monstrous deceptions. Resist these temptations as you inevitably find them – and your ethical power will then properly outweigh your physical advantage over others. Never use your powers for personal gain, Kal-El. Never.

"Live as one of them, Kal-El, to discover where your strength and power are needed – but always hold in your heart the pride of your special heritage. Your being is both separate and your own, but I have caused your earthly presence and must share responsibility for your actions. They can be a great people, Kal-El. They wish to be. They only lack the light to show the way. For this reason above all – their capacity for good – I have sent them you. My only son."

"It doesn't sound like he thinks very much of humans," I observed. It actually sounded a little pompous to me, but I didn't dare say that to Superman. This was a representation of his father, after all, and I didn't think he would like it too much if I insulted his father.

"On the contrary, my father had a great deal of respect for humans," he countered. "It's just that he understood that humans hadn't progressed as far as Kryptonians. Our people, Jason, were much more sophisticated than humans. Our technology, our understanding of the universe, our very way of life was infinitely more advanced than what is found here on earth."

Now he was sounding just as pompous as his father. And it didn't escape me that he was lumping me in with this so-called advanced society, always referring to Kryptonians as our people rather than just his people. If they were so advanced, then why would they have let their planet be destroyed? Why would they have all stayed there and let themselves be killed? It seemed like a contradiction to me, but I brushed it off, knowing it would be pointless to argue about it now.

"What did he mean by not interfering with history?" I asked.

"That I shouldn't do for the people of earth what they can do for themselves. I shouldn't use my powers in any way to rule or control. Influence, yes, but never anything more than that. And that I shouldn't set one life over another."

That got my attention and I nearly jumped at hearing him say it. "You mean, you can't… have… friends?"

His lips pursed together in a fine line. "Father, how am I to treat and respond to each individual life with regards to my abilities?"

"Throughout your life you will form many valuable and important relationships as you come to know and understand these people. Know this now – that every life is important. Every life has value and significance. It is not for you to act as judge or jury over the personal decisions men make. They act of their own free will and should be allowed to do so. Use your power to influence them to be a better people, but understand that often times they will act in malicious and vindictive ways. There will be those among them that prefer a life less exemplary and do not abide by the laws of the land. They should be dealt with and punished according to the jurisdiction of their own people, and not by your own standards. It is your responsibility to treat all human life with equal respect, from the criminal to the kind-hearted. Be wary, my son, that you do not form any significant attachments that are beyond necessary."

"Attachments?" I said before I had a chance to stop myself. "What does he mean by that?" He opened his mouth to speak, but I kept talking. I had to get this out. "Does he mean like… friends? Or what about your parents? The Kents – aren't you allowed to value their lives over someone like… well, someone who's a criminal? Or what about… Mom? Or… me?"

I'd done it. It took me a while to get there, but I'd actually gotten around to asking about myself. And from what I was hearing from this Jor-El person, I wasn't going to like the answer.

Superman took a deep breath. "That's tricky, Jason."

"Why is it tricky?"

"Well, because… I didn't… your mother… I – I wasn't…" He was faltering, and I couldn't remember ever hearing him this lost for words before. Not even when he pretended to be the idiot version of Clark Kent.

"I don't understand," I voiced. "When he says that you can't form any significant attachments, does he mean that you aren't allowed to—" I stopped short. "That you have to be alone?" When he didn't answer me, I turned to look at Jor-El and his deceptively kind face. "Why would your father save your life, send you to a planet millions of miles from your home with the intention of protecting the people there, and then tell you that you can't have friends or even… a family?"

There. I'd said it. We'd been dancing around the word all day, but I'd finally worked up the courage to say it.

"Jason," he started softly. "You don't understand—"

"Yes, I think I do understand. You weren't supposed to have a family. I was… I was a mistake."

"You are not a mistake," he stated matter-of-factly.

"That's not what he said," I nodded at the image of Jor-El. "He said that you weren't supposed to—" I bit my lip and held back what I wanted to say. "So where does that leave me?"

"What do you mean?" Superman asked sadly.

"What I am supposed to do? What does he say about me? Am I in trouble? Are you in trouble for bringing me here, since I'm proof that you obviously broke the rules?"

"It isn't like that, Jason—"

"What does he say about me?" I interrupted rather forcefully.

He wet his lips and shook his head, and I could tell he didn't want me to hear whatever it was that Jor-El had to say about my existence.

Boldly, I turned to face the image before me. "Jor-El, what happens if there is a significant attachment?"

"It depends on the way that attachment manifests itself in your life. You were yet a child when you arrived on earth and it is my greatest wish that someone kind and honorable raised you and cared for you in your youth. To assume that you have no attachment to whomever filled the role of an earthly parent would be unreasonable. Your heart is good, Kal-El, and I would be disappointed if you did not feel love for those that cared for you. It would also be foolish of me to expect for you to live a day-to-day life surrounded by humanity without ever developing a penchant for some of them over others. What you need to be careful of is attaching yourself so fully to any one of them that it becomes difficult for you to make clear and unbiased decisions. You can not serve humanity by investing your time and emotion in one human being at expense of the rest. The concepts are mutually exclusive. "

I was beginning to really get angry at this Jor-El person. "So friends are allowed, but having a family is forbidden?"

"I have already spoken of your earthly family. It is my greatest hope that someone kind and honorable will raise you and care for you as their own."

He was starting to sound like a broken record.

"I'm not talking about parents," I snipped. "I'm talking about children."

Jor-El's face softened and his head bowed slightly. "Oh, my son, what you ask me now causes me great sorrow to answer."

"Father, stop!" Superman said, stepping towards the image of his father and holding out a hand. "Jason," he turned to me, "there are things that you don't understand."

"Exactly!" I snapped. "Which is why you brought me here! And that's why I'm asking these questions – so I can understand!"

"No, really, Jason, don't ask about this," he pleaded.

I frowned. "If it's something bad, then shouldn't I know? I have a right to know."

"Yes, but Jason," his voice shook with concern, "these messages were recorded using the information and knowledge that my father had garnered without ever having set foot on Earth. Everything he knows is based off of observation and information gathered from remote sources. He never met a human face-to-face. All of his testing and research was done hypothetically."

My heart was racing in my chest. "What is it that you don't want me to know?" Whatever it was, it had to be bad for him to make such a fuss over it. Without waiting for permission, I turned to the image on the crystal once more and said, "Jor-El, what about the children? What about a child?" I corrected.

"Kal-El, I can understand the desire you express with your question. I understand it because I have felt it personally. The longing for a family – for a child of your own. It is only natural for you to feel such things. On Krypton, your desires would be encouraged, for we value children and recognize the importance of continuing the family line.

"However, you are not on Krypton. You are surrounded by beings that are genetically inferior to you. That which you ask – to have a family of your own – is an impossibility."

My heart skipped a beat.

"You will never have a child of your own," Jor-El continued. "You will never have a family of your own. Furthermore, were you to join your life with that of a mere mortal – you would be going against everything I have taught you and would place yourself in a potentially very dangerous position. I urge you, Kal-El, to avoid such attachments."

I blinked, trying to make sense of what I was hearing. "Impossibility?" I repeated under my breath. "But I'm here."

"Jason—"

"I'm here!" I said more forcefully.

"Yes, you are."

"Then how can he say that?" I asked the man himself, "How can you say that? Jor-El, humans may be genetically inferior, but that doesn't mean it's impossible."

"I sense your stress over this matter, my son."

"That's because you're wrong!" I shouted.

"In choosing to send you to earth, your mother and I both knew what impact this would have on your life. We understood that we were sending you to a world where you would never be able to live the life of an ordinary man. We knew that it would be difficult for you to accept many of the facts of your nature, including this one. It pains me to know you suffer because of this. But Kal-El, it is for the best."

"Why? Why is it for the best?" I lamented.

"Because, my son, to even suggest such a hybrid is unfathomable."

Hybrid? Did he mean…what I thought he meant?

"Consider, if you will, the difficulties that would be inherent in such a child. Biologically, the child's body would be exposed to the bombardment of what his human DNA would interpret as foreign cells. Likewise, his Kryptonian DNA would try to dominate those aspects that were more human. Theoretically, the basic genetic make-up of such a child would be in constant turmoil, human and Kryptonian battling for control of a body in which they were never meant to coexist. The abnormalities that would be present in the body would be devastating and potentially dangerous. I shudder to think of the challenges and difficulties that would face such a child. Be thankful that your own biology makes such unbearable ideas impossible."

I felt as if the air vanished from all around me, leaving me breathless. I couldn't move. I could only stand there, totally horrified. I blinked and found that I couldn't fight against the tears rapidly forming in my eyes. My chin began to shake, as did my hands. What hit me so profoundly and left me momentarily frozen in time was now causing my entire body to quake in anguish. Somehow, from some unknown place deep inside me, I knew that I couldn't let a self- righteous dead man have the last word.

"But I'm here," I mumbled. Slowly, as if I was gathering strength, I clenched my fists and forced the tears to stay away. "I'M HERE!" I shouted, and my voice echoed back at me, repeating my cry multiple times in a desperate attempt to prove my existence to the very walls.

"Jason," Superman said softly, reaching out to me.

I jerked away from him. "Don't touch me!" I barked.

He took a deep breath. "I told you, it was just speculation. Our people thought they understood human biology, but there are obviously some things they were wrong about. Our people didn't consider that—"

"They aren't our people! They are your people – not mine! I'm obviously not wanted here." Two tears fell down my cheeks and I wiped them away hastily.

"No one said you weren't wanted—"

"He said it!" I countered. "First, I'm a mistake," I hissed. "Then I'm an impossibility. And then I'm abnormal!"

"Jason, no—"

"You must think of me and all my abnormalities as punishment for breaking the rules!"

"That is not what I think!" he stressed.

But I didn't believe him. I couldn't. Not after hearing what his own father, my grandfather, thought of me. Not after being insulted and shown just how undesirable I really was in his eyes.

"No wonder you never gave me a Kryptonian name!" I spat.

"That has nothing to do—"

"I want to go home," I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest and wishing I could curl up into a ball and just vanish from his sight. I could feel him looking at me, judging me, deciding if I was worthy or not to be here in this place, in his presence. I couldn't stand it anymore, not after everything I'd learned. All I wanted was for someplace familiar. Someplace where I didn't feel so inferior. "I want to go home," I reiterated.

"Okay," came the reply, no louder than a whisper. His fingers brushed against my arm and I jumped away from him. "Jason, I have to touch you to take you home."

I kept very still as his hands took hold of my arms and lifted me off the ground. I kept my body as rigid and tense as I could. If I relaxed at all, I knew my emotions would get the better of me and I would start crying like a baby, and I did not want him to see me cry. Not over this. I was not about to give Jor-El or any other Kryptonian alien the pleasure of insulting me and watching me cry about it.

To my relief, the journey didn't take very long and we soon made our descent down toward the coast of Virginia. It wasn't home, but at least my parents would be there. At least someone who loved me would be there. We landed in the spacious front yard of my grandparents' beach house. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I darted into the house and slammed the door behind me.

"Jason?" Mom said, looking surprised to see me. "What are you—"

"Mom!" I flung my arms around her and buried my face against her shoulder.

It took her a moment to realize that I was actually crying. "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I mumbled. "Just don't ever make me go away with him again."

To her credit, she didn't press me about it. It wasn't until later that night when she thought I was asleep that I heard her even call out to him for answers.

"You have to explain to me why he's so upset," she said in a whisper. "He won't tell me. He doesn't want to talk about it."

"Lois, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

He was such a liar. He knew what Jor-El was going to say. He tried to warn me, true, but he let me hear anyways, knowing full well what Jor-El was going to say.

"What happened?" she asked again. "I can't help him until I know the whole story."

There was a pause, and then he said, "Come with me, Lois."

"Why?"

"Because Jason is awake and he can hear us."

Angrily, I sat up in my bed and turned around to look in the general direction of his voice. "Yes," I said, knowing he was listening and watching me. "I can hear you and I would appreciate it if you would just leave."

"Are you sure he's awake?" Mom asked.

"Positive. I promise you, Lois, I will tell you everything, but I'm not going to do this here in front of Jason. I hurt him once today. I'm not going to do it again."

"Why not?" I said bitterly. "Just pour salt in the wound. Say what you want to say and get it over with."

There was another pause before he said, "He doesn't want me here, Lois, so I'm going to leave. Now, you can come with me so I can explain what happened, or you can stay here and wait for Jason to tell you."

Suddenly, I wished she would stay so I could tell her my version of things, but I knew she would go with him. I knew she wouldn't turn him down. It was something I was just starting to understand about my mother – that she had a difficult time saying no to him.

"Okay," she agreed. "But I can't be gone long."

"You won't be."

"And don't you dare try to turn this into something romantic. I'm only doing this because I need to know what's going on with Jason."

Romantic? My insides lurched.

And then it was quiet outside the house. As I waited for them to return, my eyes grew heavy and I gave into how exhausted I felt. The nightmare from a week ago returned in full force, only this time it was more accurate and true to life.

"You are not a pure Kryptonian. You can not possibly belong to the house of El," I heard him saying. "Your abnormalities and inferior human qualities are not worthy of the name."

And no matter how hard my mother tried to convince me the next morning that he hadn't meant to insult me, I couldn't believe her. She told me that what I heard was the ancient ramblings of a man long dead and that I shouldn't put trust in his words, but that simply didn't ring true to me. Of all the truths recorded on the crystals, why should I believe that the one thing pertaining to me would be the one thing I should just ignore? No matter how many time my mother repeated to me that my father loved me and never wanted to hurt me, I couldn't help but doubt her. I couldn't help but doubt him.

If he really loved me, then why didn't he just say so? If he loved me, why would he leave it to some holographic image of a dead man to explain to me that my very existence was an abomination? If he really loved me, he would have never abandoned me for all those months after I found out who he really was…who I really was. And if he did love me the way he apparently told my mother he did, then why wouldn't he call me his son?

Needless to say, the vacation was ruined and I spent the majority of my time alone in my room. By the time we returned to Metropolis, I had come to the conclusion that the only way I was ever going to get past this was to prove it to Superman – prove it to Jor-El – prove it to every Kryptonian that ever lived – that I was not the abnormal impossibility they thought I was. I would show them. I would run faster – I would jump higher – and I would fly with more ease and precision than anyone had ever thought possible. I would show them. And maybe then he wouldn't be so embarrassed to call me his son.