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Groaning under his breath, Clark slowly raised himself up into a sitting position, one hand reaching up to massage his aching forehead. Keeping his eyes warily on the older man's face, Clarktried frantically to sift through the tangled mess that was his brain.

He would NOT give this man the satisfaction of knowing that he could understand his speech perfectly well.

Jor-el sighed heavily, glancing at his son one last time before standing up and heading over to the main console. Just as he reached it, it suddenly starting flashing, and he smiled slightly at the timing. "Hey," He said warily as the visage of Anla appeared on the large view screen.

"Jor-el? You alright? I was in the area, so the Guild went ahead and told me to come collect you. They're really interested to know what your doing all the way out here." Anla grinned at the smaller man, bright orange eyes twinkling merrily. He always looked like he was taking part in a joke known only to him, and while it had been annoying at first, now it was actually quite pleasant. He needed courtesy and laughter right now. His son's refusal to cooperate was already beginning to grind on his nerves.

"I found Kal-el" Was all he said, yet Anla's eyes widened considerably at those three small words. Such small words, with such profound meaning.

"Have you given him the chip yet?" Anla had to grin at the look that crossed Jor-el's face at his question. The man really could be incredibly stupid sometimes.

"I'll leave you to it, then. Just let me place a tenta on your ship, alright?"

Jor-el nodded absently, bracing himself for the sharp pull he knew was to come as Anla secured their ships togeather, so that or-el's ship would be pulled in the wake of Anla's.

Slowly turning around, Jor-el walked until he was standing over his son. Slowly raching down, he grasped the boy by his shoulders and bodily lifted him from the floor. The boy was surprisingly light, for all his size.

"Kal-el, if you can understand me, undersand this : unless you prove that you can communicate with me, I will be forced to implant an device into your brain which will allow you comprehend he Kyrptonian language. Can you understand me, or do I need to perform the operation?"

Clark's eyes widened slightly, and he tried frantically to push down the bile that suddenly rose to his throat. "I can understand you. You don't need to do anything like that." Clark said quickly in Kryptonian, wincing as the man reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair away from his face.

"Kal-el, we'll talk about your earlier refusal to speak with me in our native language later. For now, let's get you changed into something more appropriate. These human clothes simply will not do."

Jor-el smiled softly, and Clark was struck suddenly by how much the other man looked like him. People had always claimed that he looked just like Jonothan Kent, and he'd always agreed, always enjoyed the thought that he shared something in common with his adoptive father. Now, however, he was beginning to see how very much he didn't look like other man.

Ignoring the offered hand, Clark struggled to his feet, breathing heavily from the effort. "You'll get used to it. The atmosphere here is much heavier than that of the planet I found you on." Jor-el sighed heavily, taking one last glance at his son before turning and starting on his way to the small back room that served as both a bedroom and a small office.

Clark followed more hestitatingly, never taking his eyes off the man in front of him. He was weak here, and unable to defend himself. It was a new experience, and he was fast realizing that it was one that that didn't like. No, he didn't like it at all.