Donovan sat at his lab table, watching as a series of test tubes—filled with protomatter—spun in a centrifuge. He glanced over briefly as the lab door opened and Lex walked in; he crossed the room and stood beside Donovan.

"I heard you have something for me," Lex said.

Donovan reached over and grabbed a manila envelope; he handed it to Lex then went back to his work. Lex opened the envelope and pulled out a few lab reports and began reading them, while Donovan continued his work.

"Well, it was nice to know we got some data on our strange visitor before Superman showed up," Lex said. "Height: six feet, three and one-half inches; hair color: black; eye color: unknown, due to corneal damage caused by intense burns; multiple fractures of the zygomatic, maxillary, and nasal bones; cause of death: single gunshot wound to the center of the frontal bone; removed one kryptonite bullet." He glanced over at Donovan. "Tell me why I should be impressed."

"You should learn to read everything before speaking out of turn, Lex," Donovan replied. "The rest of the pages contain the information we were able to record about the alien's physiology before Superman showed up and destroyed everything."

Lex raised an eyebrow but flipped to the next pages and continued reading. "Humanoid, with organs in similar locations to that of a typical human being. Chromosomal count recorded a minimum of ninety-eight pairs and counting before transmission was interrupted." He all but threw the papers onto the table in disgust. "There is nothing here that we don't already know: the alien was Kryptonian—like Superman. They fought with the same abilities, and have the same weaknesses."

"But the report also indicates a third person was involved in that fight," Donovan said, looking up. He almost smirked when he saw Lex tilt his head with intrigue. "The angle of the burns to the eyes indicate someone of similar height caused that damage, yet the amount of damage sustained in the cranial fractures could have only come from someone with a smaller stature—yet still strong enough to cause damage to a Kryptonian." He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Maybe the same person who's strong enough to throw a man through a store window and into a car."

"The girl from Metropolis," Lex said, a smile playing on his lips.

"You find her," Donovan replied, "and I'm pretty sure you'll be able to get all the answers you need, Lex."

"I'm impressed, Donovan," the businessman answered, "and to show my appreciation, I'm going to let you continue your work." Donovan looked a little confused. "Don't look so surprised. Your skills in extraterrestrial genetics are second to none—your pet projects are a testament to that—plus you seem familiar enough with the information we've already collected. Who better to conduct this little…experiment than you?"

"And what am I experimenting on?" Donovan asked cautiously.

Lex smiled ever so slightly, but it spoke volumes. "How about you find the girl," he suggested, "and see what information you can collect from her first." He shrugged casually. "We'll figure the rest out later."

It was a little after midnight as Linda carefully padded down the drive, clutching her ship's key tightly in her hands, her bare feet crunching softly on the gravel. She glanced over her shoulder occasionally to make sure she wasn't being followed as she hurried past the barn and made her way over to the storm cellar. Only a few days had passed since she'd last seen her ship, but it felt more like a hundred days. She reached for the cellar door, but she hesitated, feeling her eyes well up.

Don't do this, a little voice in her head said. It's not worth it.

"I need to know," Linda whispered. She took a deep breath, quickly wiped her eyes, grabbed the handle of the door, and pulled it open. She slowly descended the stairs and stopped at the bottom when she saw the large, tarp covered object in the back corner. She slowly walked over and pulled the tarp back, revealing her ship, staring at it for the longest time.

"Shouldn't you be getting some rest?" Startled, Linda quickly turned around and saw Clark coming down the stairs. He looked at her curiously, then saw the fearful expression on her face, her key in her hands; he immediately looked concerned as he hurried over to her. "Linda, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Linda said casually, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm fine." All Clark had to do was raise an eyebrow, and Linda knew he didn't believe her; she sighed. "When I was fighting Zor-El, he told me something, and I need…," she felt a lump building in her throat, "I need to know if it was the truth."

"What did he tell you?" Clark asked.

"He told me to give my mother and Rok-Var his regards," Linda said softly. She looked up at him with tears streaming down her cheeks. "He killed Rok-Var."

"Linda, Zor-El was a monster," Clark said gently, putting his hands on her shoulders. "He enjoyed telling lies and hurting people—especially you."

Linda shook her head. "Clark, you don't understand," she explained. "The last thing I remember before leaving Argo City was my mother, Alura, coming in and trying to stop us. I was in my ship, and I watched as she and Rok-Var fought. I wanted to help, but I couldn't leave the ship, but Rok-Var managed to kill her." She saw Clark's troubled expression, and she sighed. "Clark, Rok-Var did it to save my life; she would have killed us both if he hadn't stopped her."

"So how do you know Rok-Var was killed?" Clark asked cautiously. He knew Linda had been through hell, but it still was a little disconcerting to hear how untroubled his cousin seemed about someone being killed—even if it was done in self defense.

"Because my—because Zor-El came in shortly after Alura was killed," Linda answered, "and I remember he and Rok-Var just stared at each other for the longest time…then Rok-Var pressed the launch button on the control panel. I could only watch as they fought; Rok-Var was exhausted from his fight with my mother, but he still fought with everything he had." A single tear ran down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. "Zor-El wouldn't have let Rok-Var live—not after helping me escape and killing his."

"If you know he's dead," Clark asked, "then why are you down here, honey?"

"Because Rok-Var said he would keep transmitting to the ship until it was out of range," Linda replied. "That would have been over two-hundred baizrhigs, but I went into hypersleep before the ship left the atmosphere." She looked up at Clark, her eyes pleading. "Clark, please...Rok-Var saved my life. I have to know what happened."

Clark wanted so badly to say no, to protect her, but he knew she needed to have some closure. "Okay," he said softly. "We'll do this together."

Linda thanked him with her eyes, then she turned back to the ship. She stared down at the key in her hands, took a deep breath, then held the key up, rotating the symbols until she was satisfied with their position. The symbols glowed red, blue, and yellow, and she let go of the key; it flew over to the ship and landed in the octagonal slot on the front. The ship lit up with a yellow orange light; it shook slightly before rising a couple of feet into the air, hovering.

"I am Rok-Var," a gentle voice emanated from the ship. Clark instantly felt a presence from the ship, similar to the one he remembered from his own years ago, but the voice emanating from his cousin's was softer, kinder. "If this message is being heard, it means Kara Zor-El has survived her journey to Earth, for only her key could activate this."

Linda stared at her ship, her eyes bright with tears, stunned; it had been a long time since she had heard the voice of the man responsible for saving her life. "Rok-Var," she whispered.

"I sense a sadness in you, my Kara," the voice replied. "What troubles you?"

Linda looked confused. "How do you know I'm sad? How do you know anything I'm feeling?"

"I uploaded my brainwaves into your ship," the voice answered. "I had anticipated you needing guidance." There was a pause. "I sense another's presence…who is with you?"

"I am," Clark answered. "Clark Kent."

"Kal-El," the voice said in a pleasing tone. "It comforts me to know that you and Kara have found each other—that she is safe and loved."

"Did Zor-El kill you?" Linda asked suddenly.

"Does it matter if he did or not?" the voice questioned her.

"Yes," Linda answered bluntly. "I need to know."

There was another pause. "After your ship launched," the voice said, "your father and I fought. I did my best, but I was unable to overpower your father…I lost." Linda's expression fell as tears streamed down her face, but she forced herself not to cry.

"Do not mourn for me," the voice continued. "I do not blame you for this; I knew what I was getting into a long time ago. I accepted it, because it was the right thing to do. You didn't deserve what happened to you; you deserved to be happy with people who could love you and give you the chance to live your life the way it was intended."

"Do you regret it?" Linda asked softly.

"I only regret not helping you sooner," the voice answered. "I hope you can forgive me for that, my Kara."

"You saved my life," Linda replied. "I only wish I could have saved yours."

"My life is insignificant compared to what yours will be," the voice continued. "It's time you started living the life you were meant to have…and that can only happen by severing the ties binding you to your old life."

"What are you saying?" Linda asked worriedly.

"This will be the only time you and I will be able to talk," the voice said. "I designed the ship to cease function once this transmission ends."

"No!" Linda protested as she stepped toward the ship. "You can't leave me!"

"I will always be with you," the voice said, "my Kir Divi." The ship suddenly glowed bright, almost like the sun and shaking violently.

Clark's eyes widened in horror as he quickly grabbed Linda's hand and yanked her to him, shielding her with his body. He had just started to dig his heels into the ground when the light suddenly vanished. Cautiously, both Clark and Linda glanced around, surveying the damage, but nothing had been disturbed…even containers on the wooden shelves were undisturbed.

"Are you okay?" Clark asked shakily.

"Yeah," Linda replied, her heart pounding. She glanced over to where her ship had been, and her eyes widened. "Clark, look."

Clark looked over and saw nothing: Linda's ship had vanished, but the octagonal key lay on the floor, unharmed and undamaged—right next to a large crystal. The crystal appeared to be as long as a ruler, and a little over two inches thick; its ends tapered into sharp points, and it glowed softly in alternating colors of blue and orange. Both objects flew through the air over to Linda, and she instinctively grabbed them in her hands. She slowly unwrapped her fingers from around the crystal, allowing Clark and herself a better look at the unfamiliar object.

Flames of blue and orange swirled inside the crystal, dancing around each other in random patterns, never blending with each other. They both pulsated with energy, almost as if they were alive, but both the flames and the light quickly disappeared, leaving the crystal with the appearance of a long piece of clear quartz.

"What is it?" Clark asked, still a little stunned.

"It's a crystal," Linda replied softly; she shook her head briefly. "Beyond that, I don't know." She glanced sadly over to where her ship had been, briefly hoping to still see it, but it was gone.

"You okay?" Clark asked, seeing her crestfallen expression.

Linda felt another lump in her throat building as a couple of tears fell down her cheek; she nodded as she wiped them away. "Yeah," she said softly. She knew it would take a long time to grieve the loss of her friend—and she would never stop missing him—but she had gotten the closure she needed. "Can we go back to the house now?"

Clark nodded and put an arm around her shoulder. "Sure," he said, leading her to the stairs; they climbed the slowly. "You know, we're going to have to tell Mom and Dad why your ship is gone…and about that crystal."

"Could it wait until morning?" Linda asked cautiously. The last thing she wanted was to wake her adoptive parents and worry them—and she didn't want to admit it, but she was starting to feel a little tired.

"Sure," Clark replied, smiling a little. They reached the top and Linda waited as Clark closed the cellar door before they headed back toward the house. "You sure you're going to be okay?"

"I think so," Linda said sincerely. "Clark?"

"Yeah, Short Stack?"

"What now?" the teenager asked. "What do I do?"

"Start living your life," Clark answered, "just like Rok-Var wanted you to."

"How?"

"Well, don't tell Mom and Dad I said anything," Clark said, "because they want to surprise you, but they're going to get some papers this week so you can be admitted to school. Actually, it was more Mom's idea, but Dad finally relented." He glanced down at her, and saw her slightly puzzled expression. "You know what school is, don't you?"

"Kind of," Linda replied. "I was schooled on Argo City," she swallowed the small lump in her throat, "by Rok-Var, but I remember reading that school here is where you learn about different things with people your own age."

"Exactly," Clark said. "You'll learn a lot of new things-"

"What kinds of things?" Linda interrupted, curiously.

"Pretty much anything," Clark said. "And, you'll meet people your own age, hopefully make some friends."

"When can I start?" Linda asked.

"School starts in a little over two months," Clark answered. Linda looked disappointed, but Clark put his arm around her. "But until then, you will have two months to experience other things that I think you'll enjoy." They had finally reached the house and quietly headed up the porch steps.

"Like?" Linda asked.

"Like letting your older cousin treat you to a relaxing cup of hot chocolate," Clark said, smiling a little as opened the door and stood aside to let her in. "Okay?"

Linda smiled a little in return. "Okay," she said before walking in; Clark followed, quietly shutting the door behind him

THE END