AN: A few explanations. First, I realized that in SomF, Jason knew by his eleventh birthday that Supes was his father. This chapter was originally going to be age 11, but it can't be. Thus, it's 10 and a half! Second of all, in writing it I discovered that finding out you are Superman's son takes a lot more than one chapter. Thus, I have divided it into two sections. Part two is nearly finished and should be posted early next week depending on the beta readers.

Hellish and htbthomas – you gals ROCK! I thrive on your enthusiasm and your encouragement.

Many thanks to all of you who have been reading and reviewing. I'm sorry it took so long to update. Things should get a little better now that the holiday is over.

Age 10 1/2 – Biology 101

The best summer of my life quickly transformed into the worst school year ever. It was awful. Horrible. Terrible. Beyond atrocious. I didn't have enough bad words in my vocabulary to describe it. And I could blame it all on these hyper-sensitive ears of mine.

It was next to impossible to do anything anymore. I never realized how much I depended on my ears to get me through the day. Simple activities that I once took for granted became challenging and stressful. Forget playing sports. The sound of the crowd cheering and the team members calling out to one another was far too distracting. Forget going to the movies. Popcorn crunching and people whispering drew my attention away from the story. Or going out to eat. The sound of people chewing and swallowing food…and then their stomachs digesting the food…it all made me want to vomit, never mind lose my appetite

But the worst part of this whole thing was going to school. I used to get straight A's at school – well, except for gym. I only did well in gym in the last year or so. But thanks to my inability to hear the teacher and only the teacher, I ended up missing half of the instructions for assignments. I would try to watch her mouth when she spoke, but how could I do that when she would turn her back and write on the chalkboard? My grades started falling, even though I knew I'd be able to take the tests and answer any question if only the room were quiet.

I tried to do most of my work at home in the evenings. We lived just far enough away from the city that there were fewer distractions at home. It would never be really quiet, but at least it was quieter than the city. Assignments that I could complete at home earned me A's and B's, depending on how well I had been able to follow the verbal instructions. But any work I completed at school ended up getting C's or D's. I even got a few F's.

My teacher asked me what the problem was one day and I told her the truth; that I was distracted by how noisy her classroom was. My "smart mouth" landed me in detention during recess. Needless to say, I never mentioned the noise to her again.

My one bit of solitude, so to speak, was when I played piano. I would pound the keys as hard as I could, drowning out every other sound around me. It didn't matter what the song was, I would play it loudly. And fast. The faster and louder, the better. I would play and play, late into the night until Mom or Dad would tell me I had to go to bed.

They pretty much left me alone when I was playing; they knew how hard it was for me to have such sensitive ears. I heard Mom once say that at least I wasn't watching TV all night. Yeah, like I could do that. I had the same problem with TV as I had with school; I couldn't always see the mouth of the person who was speaking, so I missed half the story. So I just stayed at the piano. I'd rather hear music than listen to birds or cars or voices or breathing.

That's why I didn't think much of it at first when I heard Mom and Dad talking one night up in their bedroom. I had just finished up one song and was ready to start another when I caught Dad saying something about how miserable I was, to which Mom replied that there wasn't anything she could do. I grumbled to myself and starting pounding away at another song.

"You have to tell him, Lois! You have to!"

"I can't!"

"Why not?"

"I'm not ready!"

I stopped my fingers, suddenly noticing the tone of the conversation going on between my parents. I hated it when they fought. A few years ago, they had fought so badly that I was afraid they would get a divorce. They hadn't been really arguing recently, but I knew there was something going on that wasn't right. And just like their fight all those years ago, I knew this one was about me, too. Me and my freakish abilities.

"You're not ready?" Dad said. "Well, Lois, did you ever stop to think that this isn't so much about you as it is about him? He's…miserable."

"And you don't think I'm miserable?" Her voice broke, and it was then that I realized that she was crying.

"Then tell him and get this over with."

She sighed. "I – I – I don't even know where to begin."

"Lois," Dad's voice grew softer. "If you don't tell him soon, he's going to figure it out on his own. It's only a matter of time. Hell, I thought for sure he would have worked it out by now."

"I know. I know." She sobbed again.

I frowned in confusion. What was it I was supposed to figure out? What was it that had them both so worried and upset?

"You have to tell him," Dad repeated, "before he does figure it out and gets angry with us for not telling him the truth."

I scowled. They were lying to me? About what?

"I just don't know how to tell him," Mom groaned. "Maybe it would be better coming from you."

"Oh, no you don't! You're not pinning this on me!" Dad sounded defensive.

"Why not? You're not the one who…well…if he does get angry…it wouldn't be about you."

"But it is about me, Lois. And this will affect me. It will affect the relationship I have with him. It will change the way he talks to me – the way he looks at me. It will change everything."

"It will change the way he looks at both of us."

"Yes, but you wouldn't be the one losing him."

"Losing him? What do you mean?"

I wanted to know what he meant, too. This whole conversation didn't make much sense to me and it was getting weirder by the minute.

"At the end of the day, he would still be your son."

I froze. Had I just heard that correctly?

There was a very uncomfortable, very frightening silence between them then. And it didn't escape my notice that Mom didn't contradict him for saying what he had.

"I can't do this, Lois." Dad's voice was shaking. "I can't look him in the eyes and tell him I'm not his father."

The world stopped spinning. Or maybe it started spinning. I couldn't tell. My mind was reeling at his words. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest I thought it might burst out.

Not my father? That couldn't be right. He had to be my father. He had to be.

"What makes you think that I can do it?" Mom asked.

"I'm not saying this is something easy to do, but Lois, he needs to hear it from you. Or him."

Him? Him who? My mind raced, desperately trying to comprehend what I was hearing.

"I don't know about that," Mom sighed. "I don't think that would be the best idea – for him to talk to Jason about this. Jason hasn't been responding to his powers very well. This might be too much for him."

"Because he doesn't know why he has those powers."

Powers? Did they mean the freaky things I could do? I'd never heard my parents refer to them as "powers" before. Powers weren't something I had. Powers were something Superman had.

I jumped.

And my heart skipped a beat.

"Maybe you're right," Dad said. "Maybe he isn't the best one to tell Jason, but he is going to have to own up to it at some point."

"I thought you didn't want him around Jason."

"I didn't. But ever since that day Jason started hearing everything, I've been thinking about it. I remember how worried he looked when he tried to help Jason. How completely dejected he seemed when we asked him to leave. He's come by two or three times wanting to know how Jason is doing and…"

Dad took a deep breath.

And I noticed that I was holding my breath.

"Lois, when I found out that I wasn't Jason's father, the thing that scared me more than anything was the thought that Superman might come along and take my son away from me. And I would be powerless to stop him. But he didn't. He didn't take Jason away. In fact, it was kind of the other way around. I took Jason from him. I told him to stay away. I told him that he wasn't welcome here, that Jason was fine without him. Now I see that's not true. Jason needs him now more than ever. He's Jason's father…and Jason needs…his father."

I covered my mouth with my hands, fighting back the scream that was building up inside of me. This was impossible. This couldn't be true.

Superman was an alien. An alien! He wasn't human. He wasn't even born on earth!

Tears formed in my eyes as my brain tried to adjust to the unfathomable information. I was shaking. My whole body was shaking.

"If someone had tried to keep me from Jason," Dad continued, "if Superman had told me that I wasn't welcome in Jason's life…my heart would have broken. And yet that's exactly what I did to him. I told him he couldn't be part of his son's life."

My hands balled up into fists. I was still shaking, unable to sit still any longer. Unable to control the fear – the anger – the rage building up inside of me.

"And now you're willing to let him be a part of Jason's life? Even if it means…" Mom didn't finish her thought.

"I'm willing to let him help Jason. I don't say that for his sake, but for Jason's. Jason needs his help. He's the only one who knows how to deal with all this mess that's going on in Jason's body."

Mess…the mess in my body. The alien mess.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. I couldn't control it. I screamed and pounded my fists down on the keyboard of the piano, breaking it and sending bits of ivory flying everywhere.

My parents' feet thumped on the stairs as they ran down to see what happened.

"Jason?" Mom called.

"Good lord, look at the piano!" Dad said.

"Are you all right?" Mom reached out to touch me.

"No, I'm NOT all right! I'm NOT! NOTHING is right!"

"Jason?" Dad said.

But it was Mom who understood. "You heard us?"

Dad gasped.

"You heard us, didn't you?" Mom repeated.

"Just tell me it's not true," I begged, tears spilling over and running down my cheeks.

"Oh, Jason, honey," Mom whimpered. "This wasn't how you were supposed to find out."

I looked at my dad. "Tell me you're still my father!"

He looked back at me with such sorrow.

I looked at mom. "Tell me I'm not an alien!"

She didn't hesitate. "You're not an alien, Jason."

"Superman is an alien."

"But I'm not," she said.

"Oh, so that makes this okay, then?"

She reached for me again, "Jason-"

"No!" I jumped away from her. "Don't. Don't. Just…leave me alone!"

I ran up the stairs to my room as fast as I could, slamming the door behind me so hard it jammed in the frame. I didn't believe them. I couldn't believe them. Superman never lied. He wouldn't lie to me. Not about something like this. He would tell me the truth. He would set this all straight.

I grabbed the phone and dialed the number I memorized years ago.

"Clark Kent."

I froze. It was then that I realized there was more to this than the idea that Superman was my father. Superman was Clark Kent – it was a secret only I knew.

"No one can know who I am, Jason. It's too dangerous."

"Not even mom?"

"Not even your mother."

I'd kept his secret now for years. I suddenly understood just how deep this secret went.

"You're very important to me, Jason. I don't want you to get hurt because you're… because of me."

"Why would anyone want to hurt me?"

"Because of our… relationship."

"You mean because I know your secret?"

"Something like that."

Something like that? Clark Kent was Superman…and Superman was my father…which meant that Clark Kent was…

"Hello?" the voice on the line said.

I started crying. Crying hard.

"Jason?"

"Yes, it's me," I managed weakly.

"What's the matter? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"I-I-" I had no way to say what it was I needed to say. My mind was so confused…and yet everything was suddenly clear. "I need to talk to you right now," I mumbled through my tears.

"Where are you?"

I sniffed. "Home."

"I'll be right there."

The line went dead. There was a knock on my door.

"Jason?" It was Dad. "Jason, please open up!"

I wiped at my face and went to the door. I tugged on it and it came open. "What?"

Mom saw the phone in my hand. "Who did you call?"

I scowled at her. "Who do you think? Someone who will tell me the truth!"

Her eyes went wide. "Superman? You called…Superman?"

Dad made a face. "Superman has a phone?"

"How do you even know his number?" Mom asked, trying to take the phone from me.

It was outrageous! My world had just caved in on me and they were worried about Superman's phone number? Mom probably wanted to hit the redial button just to see what would happen.

Angry and completely frustrated, I slammed the phone down on the floor, breaking it into pieces in the process.

"Will you forget about the damn phone?"

"Jason!" Mom exclaimed.

But I didn't want to hear it. I ran past them, down the steps, and out the front door. I ran to the edge of the water and looked up into the sky, waiting for him to appear, as he always did.

His voice came from behind me. "Jason, what's happened?"

I turned around to face him, tears falling down my face. "I heard them. I heard them talking."

"Heard who?"

"Mom and D-" The word fell away unspoken. I hadn't heard my mom and dad. I had heard mom and… "Richard," I said swallowing hard.

"Richard?" he stressed. And then he understood. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "You know." It wasn't a question.

I clenched my fists. "Is it true?"

His eyes met mine with a piercing gaze.

"Is it true?" I repeated more forcefully.

He nodded slowly, never taking his eyes away from mine.

In that moment, everything I had ever known came crashing down around me in pieces. I couldn't hold in the sob that broke from my throat.

"Now you know why things have to be the way they are."

I gaped at him, utterly confounded by his statement. "Wh – what?"

"Now you see why no one can ever know about this – why this has to stay a secret."

"No, I don't!" I cried.

"Jason," he took a step closer to me, and I stepped away. "No one can know who you are."

"Not even me?"

His mouth opened and then closed, making it obvious he wanted to say something but didn't know what .

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked.

"Because…I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?"

"From anyone that would want to hurt you because of me."

I blinked. "That still doesn't explain why you wouldn't tell me."

He didn't have an answer.

"You lied to me," I added softly.

"I never lied to you, Jason."

That was total crap! "Yes, you did!" I snapped.

"No, I have always been very careful to not lie to you."

"A lie of omission is still a lie!"

He frowned. "What?"

"It's something my teacher says when she thinks we aren't telling her everything. A lie of omission is still a lie."

His shoulders fell, but his eyes never left mine. "You're very right. I didn't tell you everything. There were details that I should-"

"Details?" I gasped. "Details?"

"Jason-"

"It's more like one enormous, larger-than-life detail that changes everything I've ever known!" I shouted. "And you could have told me so many times! It's not like you never had a chance."

"Please-"

"My hearing-" A sob broke from my throat. "Just a few months ago I sat on my bed and asked you why this was happening to me!" My voice had gone up in pitch as I tried to hold in my tears. "I ASKED YOU!"

"Jason, please-"

"You could have told me then!"

"I know."

"So, why didn't you?"

He stared back at me, his eyebrows furrowed in a sad, thoughtful way.

"WHY?" I screeched.

"I thought I was protecting you."

I threw my arms up in the air, totally frustrated at the fact that we were right back where we started. "This doesn't make any sense!"

"Sweetheart, you have to calm down." I spun around to find my mother standing behind me.

"Calm down?" Was she serious? "I just found out that everything I've ever known is a lie and you want me to be calm?"

She stepped in closer, and I moved back, putting myself directly between my mother and…my father. My real father. I glanced from one to the other. First Mom…and then…him. My brain was still trying to process the fact that he was my father. These were my parents. This was really happening.

And then I saw Dad. Richard…is that what I would have to call him from now on?

And who did that make me? Was I still Jason White? Or was I Jason…Kent?

Who was I? I didn't really know anymore.

"I can't…I can't…"

I ran away as fast as I could, wanting to escape from this nightmare. I ran around to the other side of the house and headed into the small group of trees at the back of the property. I could climb up and hide so high that no one would find me. Well…almost no one…

Behind me, I heard Superman…my father…say, "Don't, Richard."

"Don't what? Don't go after him?"

"He needs time to be alone."

"Like hell he does! He's frightened. He's confused. He's just been lied to by the three adults he trusts the most."

"And he needs some time to think. Trust me, I know a little about what he's going through."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot," Dad mocked. "You know Jason so very well. You know him better than I do!"

"I never said that." Superman said quietly.

"Let's get something clear right here and now. You may be his father…but he is still my son! Right now, I don't give a damn what you think he needs. I'm going to go find my son and try to help him any way I can."