Chapter 5: My Son
Daily Planet Bullpen
"Great Caesar's ghost! Where in the hell are those three punks?!", Perry shouts to his ceiling. "Hey, Mr White, sorry we're late but we got you a bacon egg and cheese", Jimmy says as if the sentence is one word. "We got some info for ya, mind if we close the door?", asks Lois. "What kind of info?", he replies, signaling Lois to close the door. "Turns out Lex wasn't just hiring old construction union guys, they were armed!" "Also, Lex wasn't inside the warehouse, and we saw a rocket land inside the warehouse—" "So it's safe to assume that Lex himself was piloting the rocket?", Perry interrupts. "Yes! The man has gone up to his satellite for repairs, so it's not out of the realm of possibility", Jimmy and Olsen reply together. "Don't do that yet, you gotta earn that level of reporting with me."
"Glad you three did some real reporting like I did back in the day! What's Clark got to say about it?" "Well, he caught a cold last night, Perry." "The hell you mean 'he caught a cold'? That boy never takes a sick day!" "He was coughing and sneezing everywhere last night after the Bronx sting! He was sneezing on my neck, my back, my—" "Alright, alright, I get it! He's not feeling too hot today", Perry says in disgust. "Did he really get a cough, though?" "Jimmy, if I said he's got a cold, he's got a cold."
The Antarctic Tundra
A lone, bright blue figure with a red cape walks towards a seemingly normal mountain of snow. He soon walks through the impossibly unmovable heaps of snow and rock as if it's a light fog. Behind the visage of the mountain lies the Fortress of Solitude, a grand cavern of Krypton's knowledge and hybrid ice/Kryptonite architecture, sprinkled with trophies of Superman's many victories past.
Superman walks to a large, crystalline console of simple levers and buttons, summoning a projection. "Kal-El, my son, welcome back", cheerily exclaims the disembodied head of Jor-El. "I go by my Earth name of Clark instead. You've known that for a long while now." "Me and your mother named you Kal-El, we will call you Kal-El until the end of time." "I guess some things never change. But that's not what I'm here to talk about." "What bothers you, my child?" "It's that rich fellow, Lex Luthor again. Something's going on inside his head, and I can't figure out what it is for the life of me!", Clark laments in frustration. "What has he done this time?" "He was released from prison early once again, for some reason." "There is a reason for that: humans and their error making tendencies. They are a kind people, Kal-El, but they need a hand in education for the greater universe."
"Can we not go down that path again?" "You mean the right path?" "I want to help people in this world, not force people to be like your world!" "Son, I know deep inside you lies a spark of compassion and hope, fueling you as I hoped the humans would." "Thank you, Father", Kal-El sighs with relief. "But those humans must be prepared for a wider universe than they realize exists." "Zod said the same thing during his invasion." "He was not wrong in his beliefs, only in execution." "So you're OK with inhabited planets dying for a couple of rogue colonies to settle there?" "…Yes. Krypton cannot die and will not die", Jor-El replies with a lump in his throat. "Father, that's why you sent me to Earth! Krypton can live on through me, is that not what you taught me all those years ago?"
"You are a symbol, something eternal; you are hope incarnate. That is true. I apologize, my son. Forgive me, my second greatest creation." "Wait, what?" "What did I say?" "Second greatest creation? I'm sorry for the hundredth time that I'm not Brainiac!", Kal-El snaps back. "Son, watch your tone with me, as I am your father!" "You want me to be a tool for Krypton's expansion, don't you?" "Well, my son, I want our people to live once more." "At what cost?!" "Didn't you have to shut it down, because it went the same route as Zod?" "Zod had tampered with my designs, he ruined my first taste of true evolving robotic life, son. Do not mention that THING to my face ever again." "So be it", Clark sternly claims, shutting off the hologram of his Kryptonian father. He flies off in anger and frustration, fearing his connection to Krypton is a dated piece of history and not a source of understanding modern problems.
The Kent Family Farm. Smallville, Kansas
"Lord, we thank you for this bountiful meal you have brought us this evening", George Kent claims, holding his wife's hand in prayer. "I thought the stove and that recipe I found yesterday brought this bountiful meal here", replies a cute, headstrong redhead on the opposite end of the dinner table. "Lana Lang, you know better than to interrupt prayer for sass", says Martha Kent, curtailing her comments. "Sorry, Ms Kent. I won't do it for the rest of the week." "It's Friday, but ok sweetie."
Suddenly, a loud thump fills the air as the Kent house shakes ever so slightly. "Are you sure it's not Friday and not Sunday, Ma?", asks George, walking over to the front door. "Hiya, Pa. Sorry I burst in without calling", Clark greets, giving his dad a hearty hug. "It's alright, son. You know I can never figure out that dang smartphone!"
"There's my city slicker of a son!", Martha jokingly says, giving her boy a hearty hug as well. "How's Lois doing these days?" "She's doing well, Ma. She says hi, and Perry got the two of us partnered up with one of the new kids. We're helping him on his first real story." "That's wonderful, isn't it, George?" "That's swell, Clark." "So do I get the chance to say hi to him soon, you two?", interrupts Lana, shoving Clark towards her. "Whatcha doing down here on a Friday night like this? You're either here for the Corn Chucking Fest or Sunday dinner", Lana asks in a much more sincere tone.
"Is your girlfriend here?" "She's out in Kansas City for a family reunion." "Nice, but good. I need some help with this kind of stuff", Clark replies, pointing to the S on his chest. "Clarky boy, I can yell and holler more than a drunk hyena", Lana chuckles, "but I can't fight the type of people you fight. Or the robots. Or aliens. Or weird animal-people hybrids. Or—" "That's not the kind of help I'm here for. Plus, you guys are family, I'm not gonna put your lives at risk like that." "C'mon, Clark! That Green Lantern fella said I could take on anybody in that Christmas party", George comments, smugly punching the air. "Oh, don't mind your Pa. He's just a little excited you came home early this week, is all."
"Son, what's bothering ya so much ya had to fly all the way here early?" "Well, Pa, it's Lex Luthor again. He's out early and I know he's up to something his parole officer won't approve of. Plus, there was something last night that really got me confused", Clark informs while eating Lana's roast chicken. "What's Mr Clean up to this time?", asks Lana. "Promise me first that you won't tell anyone about this. Let's just say I'm still figuring out the story behind this bit of news." "We promise, son." "Thanks. So me, Lois, and Jimmy, the new photographer kid, went up to The Bronx since one of Lexcorp's old warehouses was getting a lot of new people inside it, just as Lex is now a free man. There were armed guards, and as we were running out of there, a rocket landed inside the warehouse. I can't say for certain, but I have a real strong feeling in my gut that Lex was in that rocket, yet I have no clue what he wants in outer space right now."
"That's quite the pickle you're in, Clark", replies a concerned Martha. "It gets a little weirder. I tried having a talk about it with an old friend." "Might this 'old friend' live in Gotham City, Massachusetts?", Lana slyly questions. "No, it's not him. It's someone,… older." "Lana, dear, could you check on that pie ya got cooking in the oven?", Martha begs, knowing exactly who her son is talking about. "I don't have a—" "Just check on it. Who likes burnt pie?", George adds. "Son, it's your birth father, isn't it?", George asks once Lana is in the kitchen.
"Yeah, Pa", Clark sighs. "He can be so wise at times, but it always goes back to his 'make Earth Krypton again' shenanigans. It's like I'm a tool for him, sent down here specifically to conquer just like that Brainiac robot did when he was my age. I want him to be proud of me and everything I've done for Earth the same way you two are. Is that too much to ask for, Ma?" "Oh, Clark, there it goes again." "What?" "Your heart. Even though you were made in a planet that George Lucas wishes he dreamt up, you've got a human heart underneath all that alien muscle." "Your mother's got a point, son. You got a loving heart only a couple of the best farmers Kansas ever saw could pull outta ya!", George adds, jostling Clark's hair. "I think that old man is proud of you, but maybe they show it differently on Krypton than on Earth. Everyone shows emotions differently, whether they're from here, or that nasty Gotham City, or even in outer space."
"I guess, but almost every time we talk lately, he finds a new way to bring up how I'm his second best creation, after Brainiac. It gets so darn frustrating!", Clark laments, breaking the dinner table clean in half. "Sorry for cursing, and the table." "It's alright, that's a quick fix worth a night in the garage", George reassures his son, patting Clark's hands. "But your birth father, Jor-El if I'm right," Martha adds, "he wouldn't say something so mean for no reason. Maybe it's some kind of alien tough love."
"I guess, but I've saved planets, helped make a team of like-minded heroes to protect everyone, and done it all with a smile. Why does he want to treat me like this?" Suddenly, Lana bursts back into the dining room, holding a landline phone. "…I'm gonna pretend the table always split in half and just give you this, Clark. It's Lois calling, by the way."
"Hey, Lois, everything ok there?" "Clark, guess who got front row passes to a Lexcorp press meeting tomorrow morning?" "Perry?" "Technically yeah, but we're going right back to the Lexcorp Tower for something 'out of this world'. Their wording, not mine." "That's great! Maybe we can get some solid answers about our trip to Orchard Beach", Clark joyously exclaims. "Yep, Jimmy and I can't wait to tell you all about it, we're maybe two blocks away from the—" Clark crushes the phone in an act of unconscious fear. Taking a quick moment to realize what he's done, looking at the crumbs of metal in his palm, a red and blue blur whiz out of the Kent farm, stopping in the kitchen with a fully fixed house phone.
"Sorry about everything thanks for all the help everyone you're the best I love you Ma and Pa bye", Clark speed speaks, bolting out of the Kent farmhouse once more. "Say what you want about him, we taught that boy good manners", Martha commented as George stood shocked at his newly welded dinner table.
END OF CHAPTER 5