"Death is not the biggest fear we have; our biggest fear is taking the risk to be alive – the risk to be alive and express what we really are." – Don Miguel Ruiz

Chapter 2: Burn

Continued from Chapter 2: Paralyzed

Jonathan stared at his hands in shock. Despite the evidence around him, he could barely feel the cold. Shaken, he begins to run, running back to his dormitory as quickly as possible.

It all went completely downhill from there when his speed started going faster than his legs could carry. He stopped; unaware of how fast he had been going and he fell and tumbled straight towards a dumpster, bending it half.

"Ow!" he says, his head dazed from the impact. Lying on his back, he sat up, a hand to his head. "Jeezus!" he muttered under his breath, without a clue what was happening to him.

He stood up once more to try it again, this time; he was taking the early morning bus back and hopefully, no more strange incidents.

Criminal Justice Class, Harvard University

The next day, Jonathan was in class, completely distracted due to the events of the previous day. The ice, the speed, it had all been surreal. Twiddling a pencil with two fingers, he stares aimlessly across the room at nothing in particular.

That's when it happened.

His eyes burns and in an instant, the books on the professors desk light on fire, flames roaring to life.

"What in the world…" the Professor exclaimed upon feeling the fire near his skin. "Everyone Out!" he ordered the students.

They all followed, except one. A tall, well-dressed, lean black-haired man reacted quickly, grabbing a fire extinguisher, pulling the pin, and aiming it towards the growing fire.

And Jonathan just stood there, unable to move.

Had I done that?

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne"

"Not a problem, Professor"

"I don't understand how that happened. The fire department will be here shortly to assess"

"I'm sure it was all an accident"

"I surely hope so. Thank you again"

Mr. Wayne? Why would he be here? Jonathan quickly made his way out the back door but was stopped by the voice below.

"Kent!" he heard, rarely anyone ever referred to him by that.

His heart starts to pound. The last past couple of days hasn't been going up to the standards he was normally used to. He was shooting fire out of his eyes, for heaven's sake.

"Yes?" Jonathan answered in a childlike voice.

"May I have a moment?"

Jonathan points to himself. "With me?" Why would a philanthropist of Bruce Wayne's caliber want to talk to him? Unless he saw him… impossible, he barely saw himself do it.

"Relax, son"

"I'm not your son," he reacts defensively.

Bruce Wayne doesn't take offense, but instead, just smiled. "No," he agreed. Then, "Just my Godson"

Jonathan stared at him in disbelief.

"Could you repeat that by me again?"

A few minutes later

Outside, in the courtyard, Jonathan stood side-by-side Bruce Wayne, trying to understand how this man, a man he barely knew, could be his Godfather. He then figured to just get on with it.

"What do you want from me?"

Bruce didn't turn to him, but he gave a small smile, he seemed to be in deep contemplation.

"I'm here to bring you to your father"

Jonathan stood still. "What?" he scoffs. "He could've came here himself, he didn't have to send you"

"He didn't," Bruce says to him. "I asked"

"Oh," Jonathan replied in defeat. Strike one for him. "Sorry"

Bruce shook his head knowingly aware of how confused the boy must be. "You're father and I knew each other long before you were born," he began his tale. "You see, your mother and…"

Jonathan's ears perked up at the mention and interrupted him immediately. "You knew my mom?" One minute, he looked like a lost little boy, the next; it seemed he was opening a present early Christmas morning.

"Yes, Jonathan, I did"

"You can call me Johnny. Everyone calls me Johnny"

He nods. "Then, yes, Johnny, I knew your mom"

"How did you know her?"

For years, everything Johnny knew about his mom came from his grandparents, his Aunt Chloe, and a few people she worked with at the Daily Planet like Jimmy Olsen and Perry White. His dad, however, kept things brief about what his mother was like, and it was his inability to open up to his own son one of the things that made him angry at him over the years.

"We were friends, confidants first before our status in the general public forced the three of us to share our friendship against prying eyes"

"I don't understand"

"You will," he assured.

"I miss her," Johnny finally confided to someone else not in relation to him.

"We all do"

"Why doesn't my dad want to talk about it?" he asks pleadingly. "I love him but I can't help but resent him too"

They stop in front of a helicopter with Wayne Enterprises insignia plastered on the side door. Johnny didn't even know that the campus had a helipad.

"Is this yours?"

"Yup," he smiled. He opened the latch and brought himself inside, putting the straps on himself.

"Are you flying this thing?" Johnny says wide-eyed.

Bruce gives out a soft chuckle. "Come on, Johnny. Your mom has flown birds like these since she was a teenager. Surely, you can manage the passenger's seat"

Johnny looked at him surprised, years of high quality education was lost on him. "Mom," he whispered, taking Bruce's… his Godfather's words to heart. With a single grip, he lifted himself inside.

To be continued…