A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I hope the rest of this story doesn't disappoint. Sorry if it's taking so long to update Even Heaven Has Demons. I'm at a part where I didn't plan it out as much as I should've beforehand. And I just started the spring semester in college. I'm taking a psychology class. I'm already losing my mind. How ironic.

Enjoy!

Chapter 2

"How'd you know we were in trouble?" Selina asked Clark.

The tall boy looked at her and the rest of the others. "I, uh, heard the crash. And when I looked out the window and saw your car, I just—I sprang into action," he answered.

"You sprang in right in the nick of time, young man," Alfred said, regaining his stature. "A few more seconds and I'd probably be squished into marmalade."

Bruce scanned the barn. There were two horses in their stalls. One was brown, the other was black. They were both staring at the disturbance that barged in.

"When the storm lights up, I'll take you into my house for better comfort," Clark said looking through a crack in the door.

"Alright. Thank you again," Bruce said.

The four of them lounged about in the barn. Clark gave them towels to dry themselves off. A loud crack of thunder startled the horses so badly that he went to calm them. "Woah there, Trooper. Easy, Hazel. It's okay."

It was less than an hour until the winds' howling died down.

"It sounds like the storm is passing," Alfred said.

"Yeah." Clark opened the barn door. The rain wasn't blowing as hard as before. "That looks clear enough. Ready… go!"

They charged out. Selina used her jacket to cover her head again. The rain was still heavy, but not as stinging. They reached the steps of a porch and before they knew it, they were in the house.

"Clark!" A middle-aged woman wearing a cream-colored robe raced over to them with a man followed in tow of her.

"It's okay, Ma," Clark said removing her hands from his face. "These folks got into an accident."

His parents studied the three strangers entering their home.

Alfred spoke for them. "We do apologize for intruding. We were driving by when a tree fell onto our car. Your son perhaps saved our lives."

The couple smiled. A sort of smile that said they heard that story before but still loved it.

"That's our boy. Always has to save someone," the man said. "Jonathan Kent. This is my wife, Martha. And you met Clark." He held out a hand to Alfred.

"Alfred Pennyworth, sir," he responded shaking his hand. "This is my ward, Bruce, and his friend, Selina."

"Now come on in," Martha said. "Don't want you to catch a cold, do we? We'll get you some warm clothes and a hot cup of tea."

Several minutes later, Bruce, Alfred, and Selina were sitting on the living room sofa—with Selina perched on the arm—and the Kents sitting across from them in armchairs. Clark was the only one standing in the back. He had given Bruce some sweats. Alfred was borrowing Mr. Kent's clothes and Selina was wearing one of Mrs. Kent's floral dressing gowns. Not really her style, she thought, but it would do for now.

Mrs. Kent poured each of them a cup of earl grey tea. "So where were you all heading in this deluge?" she asked.

"Do you mind telling us where we are first, madam?" Alfred asked.

"Smallville, Kanas," she replied. "I take it you're not from around here."

"Guess the English accent didn't fool ya," Selina snide while swirling her tea in her cup.

"Actually, it was all three of you," she responded. "And I do ask you to be careful not to spill on my furniture, young lady."

The girl ceased her fiddling.

"We're from Gotham," Bruce said. "And that's where we're going."

"Gotham?" Jonathan joined in. "That's quite a long way for driving."

"Yes," Bruce agreed. "You see, we were coming from San Francisco when our plane had a malfunction and we had to land in Colorado. So we decided to drive the rest of the way to the nearest airport."

"We're pretty far from an airport or a major highway," Clark said. "Why did you decide to drive this way?"

"We were forced to take some maddening detours," Alfred confirmed and Mr. Kent seemed to nod understandingly.

"Well, you are welcome to stay for the night," Martha said in a soothing voice.

A voice that sadly almost reminded him of his mother. And after hearing her name, it did not make it better.

"We only have one spare bedroom, though," she continued staring at the two males and one girl.

"Selina should take it," Bruce said as the only option.

She looked back at him. "No, Bruce I'll—"

"I think Master Bruce is right, Ms. Kyle," Alfred interjected.

"Master?" Jonathan asked.

Alfred looked the other man square in the eye. "Yes. I'm his butler."

"Butler? Sorry, I thought you were his—or their—father."

This time it was Bruce's turn to speak again. "My parents died." He leaned on his knees while Alfred rubbed his back. He hated how these people were looking at him now. The same sympathetic look everyone has been giving him since he was twelve.

"I'm so sorry, dear," Mrs. Kent said.

Ruling that enough was said, everyone turned in for the night.

Selina was settled in the guestroom. The floral bedspread and farmhouse décor wasn't her style—even less than at Wayne Manor—but she slept in worse. She took a peek out of the curtains and saw the storm still raging. Out there, she saw a cornfield rustling in the wind. While on the road, they had passed plenty of those. That's when she mentally noted that she was a long way from home. A long way from a city full of criminals and cops. Well, cops that knew her.

What if I don't go back? she asked herself. She never thought she'd get there. Never thought of leaving Gotham—her only home. True, she had thought of it. Fantasized about leaving all her troubles there. And then never return.

And now she had the chance. She didn't even realize it when she stowed away on the plane. Not even while in Frisco or on the road. Bruce and Alfred had distracted her from that thought. Now Selina could think about it. To never return to Gotham.

Downstairs, Bruce and Alfred were set up in the living room. Bruce laid on the pullout sofa bed while Alfred occupied the recliner.

Bruce laid still on the thin mattress listening to the storm outside. From upstairs, he could hear the Kents talking. It sounded kind of urgent. He could barely make out any words but he could've sworn he thought Clark's parents were lecturing him. And they said something like being discovered and Clark retorting about helping.

After that, all was quiet.

A silent alarm went off in Bruce's head. He had no proof and no right to judge strangers in their own home, but there was one thing for certain. Something was going on with this family.