AN: After all the Clois yumminess that I managed to dish out last week, I'm back to the angst and the general torture of poor Jason White. If you haven't yet seen my fic After All, it's posted here at and you can find it under my author links. Those of you worried that Clark and Lois will never work things out, just might want to take a look and see what I have planned for them.

Again, this chapter was supposed to be one chapter that all of a sudden grew into two. I hadn't originally planned for Jason to go to Kansas, but inspiration hit me the other day and BOOM! Jason went to Kansas. LOL! Thus, Jason's visit to the Fortress of Solitude will happen in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter for the relative calmness of it… because the crap is really gonna hit the fan hard in the next few chapters.

Many thanks to htbthomas and Hellish for their hard work and devotion to my sad stories. They have read every tragic, angsty moment without complaint! You guys rox!

Age 12 Part One – Kansas

You have great powers, only some of which you have as yet discovered. While it is forbidden for you to interfere with human history itself, your leadership can stir others to their own capacity for moral betterment.

The deep, rich voice echoed in my mind. The words were unfamiliar to me, but I'd heard this voice before. I just couldn't quite remember where.

Discover where your strength and power are needed - but always hold in your heart the pride of your special heritage.

I turned my head toward the voice, wanting to see the mysterious man who spoke in such a different way from anything I'd ever heard before.

You will be different. Sometimes you'll feel like an outcast, but you'll never be alone. You will make my strength your own. You will see my life through your eyes, as your life will be seen through mine. The son becomes the father, and the father becomes the son.

I blinked my eyes open to see only the darkness of the room. My window stood wide open, a breeze blowing the curtains and cooling the air on this warm, spring night. I crawled out of bed and walked over to the window to look outside, certain I would see him there.

And I did. He was hovering in midair, floating along the same level as my window but far enough away that I was afraid he would leave. "Dad, don't go!" I called to him.

He gracefully turned around to smile at me. "I asked you not to call me that, Jason."

I blushed. It was just so difficult to call him Superman. I didn't have any problem calling him Clark, but I wasn't allowed to call him that when he was wearing his costume. "I'm sorry. I just… I thought I heard you talking to me."

He smiled and floated closer to my window.

"I haven't seen you in a long time," I complained.

"I know, but I have seen you."

"You have?"

"I've been watching you very closely. You've been trying to develop your powers."

I bit my bottom lip. "I just… wanted to see what I could do."

"I was watching the night you turned on all the televisions in the house as loudly as they would go and then asked your mother to speak to you very quietly."

I grinned up at him, so proud of myself for what I had learned to do. "I heard her! I could do it! It's so much easier now. I almost don't even have to think about it anymore."

"Yes," he nodded. "But I never had to work that hard to hear a single voice."

My smile fell. "I know. I wish it was easier."

"And I saw you running.

"Just outside… around the house," I added quickly. "I only do it here at home."

"You nearly had an asthma attack."

"No, I just—" I didn't want him to think I was weak. "I'm getting better. I just need to practice."

"But someone could still see you."

"I know," I said sadly. "But how am I supposed to learn to do anything if I'm never allowed to do anything?"

"Jason, you shouldn't worry about developing your powers like that. You only need to focus on controlling the powers that bother you – like your hearing."

I frowned at him, not really sure I understood him correctly.

"You will never be as strong as me. You will never be as fast as me. You're too different."

"But shouldn't I at least try?"

"What's the point? You can never tell anyone what you can do. You can never tell anyone who you are. You can never be like me. And you know that I can never claim you as my son."

I felt my eyes fill with tears. "But I am your son!"

"I may have given you life… but you are not my son. My son wouldn't be sick. My son wouldn't have difficultly with his powers. My son would be strong and healthy and able to fly with me."

"But I can fly!" I said in desperation. "If you would just give me a chance!"

"You can fly?" he asked.

"Yes! If you help me! Show me how!" I cried.

"Jump."

I blinked. "What?"

"Jump to me. Show me that you are worthy to be my son."

I was afraid. I couldn't just jump out of my window. I'd fall. I'd get hurt. I looked down at the ground, scared of dying… but even more scared that he would leave me.

I looked up to see him drifting away.

"NO!" I yelled. "Don't go! I can do it! I can!"

And I jumped… and I fell…

I gasped, sitting up straight in my bed, my heart racing and my breathing heavy.

It had been a dream. All of it. And it had left me shaken and breathless. I was so warm I was sweating. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was after midnight. I crawled out of bed and crossed to the bathroom so that I could splash some cold water on my face and catch my breath. I could feel the constriction in my chest as the wheezing started. I needed to calm down quickly or I would have an asthma attack, and I hadn't had one of those in months.

The water felt so cool on my skin. A few months ago I noticed how warm everything felt. It was fifteen degrees outside and yet I felt like I was burning up. Mom noticed it one morning and immediately thought I was running a temperature. She kept me home from school even though I told her I felt fine. When my so-called fever hadn't gone down within twenty-four hours, Dad wanted to call the doctor and take me in for a check-up. Again, I told them I felt perfectly fine, and Mom finally believed me. She said it probably had something to do with the sun… and with who I really was. So now I could add "unnaturally hot" to my list of almost-super powers.

I took a deep breath and willed my heart to slow down. Looking into the mirror, I told myself it was just a dream and that I had to stop worrying about the fact that he never called me his son. Because it did bother me, if I were being honest with myself. We hadn't really spoken since that day after school last year. We'd seen each other, and he'd smiled or nodded at me in recognition, but we hadn't really talked. Because of this, I'd been left to stew over his words on my own, hearing them in my mind over and over again, and building a mountain out of a molehill. He hadn't denied being my father, but then he'd never once during the entire conversation said, "Jason, you are my son." I knew I shouldn't make such a big deal out of it. I was obviously his son and he wasn't trying to hide that from me anymore. But I couldn't help but feel… disappointed that he hadn't said more or been more specific.

I stretched my arms over my head and yawned deeply, feeling how tired my body felt. The weather had been rotten the last few days, rainy and cloudy and grey, and it was really starting to get to me. I always felt better when it was sunny outside, but it wasn't until the last year or so that I actually understood why. I rubbed my eyes, yawned again, and… froze.

"I've stayed away – I've kept my distance like I promised so that he would be safe. Now, all I'm asking for is two days, Lois. And not even a full two days. I just need… time… with him."

It was the voice from my dream. It was his voice.

"He needs this, too, Lois. You have to know that. I've seen him running and pushing himself, testing his limits. Metropolis doesn't give him the space he needs."

He saw me? I immediately thought of my dream and how he had said I'd never be good enough to be his son. Was that what he said? I couldn't remember perfectly.

"Where will you take him?" That was Dad's voice.

"To a place where he can be himself without worrying about being seen. To a place where he can have all of his questions answered."

"The Fortress?" Mom asked.

It was a moment before he answered, "Yes."

They were below me, in the living room. All three of them. Mom, Dad, and… Superman. I'd caught bits of conversation about me in the last year between my mom and dad, but I'd never heard them talk to him about me. Not since that night when I found out he was my… my…

"What fortress?" Dad asked.

"It's a place where I learned who I was and where I came from. It's all that's left of my home – of Krypton." He sounded sad.

"And where is this… fortress?" Dad pressed.

"It's in the Arctic," Mom offered.

"The Arctic? Are you serious? You want to take Jason to some frozen wasteland?"

"He'll be fine," Mom countered.

"What parent takes a child on a two-day excursion to the Arctic? He'll freeze."

"I wouldn't let him freeze, Richard," Superman said very calmly. "I wouldn't let anything bad happen to him."

I quietly made my way down the hall to the stairs. The light leaking out from the living room illuminated the stairs just enough that I knew I wouldn't be able to walk down the steps without drawing attention to the fact that I was awake, and I wanted to stay hidden as long as possible. It didn't take a genius to figure out that my parents – all three of them – wouldn't talk so openly if they knew I was listening in. And I wanted to hear this.

"I thought you said that it was too dangerous for you to spend time with Jason," Dad pointed out. "Taking a two-day vacation with Superman isn't exactly being discreet."

"I realize that, Richard, and I've thought it through. From what I understand, Jason's school has spring break coming up next week. You could take a vacation – all of you. Say you're going somewhere on the coast. Take the plane out, and when you are a far enough distance away from Metropolis, you could safely land in the water where I could find you. Jason could come with me and you and Lois could go somewhere on your own. Then the next day, sometime in the evening, I would bring Jason back to you wherever you happen to be staying. You would spend the rest of the vacation together and return to Metropolis with no one ever suspecting that Jason wasn't with you the whole time."

The room was quiet, and I held my breath for fear that I would be heard on the stairs. My heart raced in my chest as I waited for Dad's approval. To my great relief, I heard him mutter, "It just might work. Lois?"

Surely Mom would let me go. She wouldn't say no. She couldn't say no. But given how quiet the room was downstairs and how long it was taking her to answer, I couldn't help but worry.

"You'll bring him back?" she asked after a long pause.

"Lois," Superman started in that soothing voice I'd come to recognize as the voice reserved for my mother. "I wouldn't take him away from you. This is his home. You and Richard are the only family he's ever known. I would never take him away from you. I'm only asking for two days."

I heard Mom sigh.

And I heard the clock ticking as she considered her answer.

"Okay," she agreed, and I nearly shouted in excitement. "But if Jason doesn't like it—"

"I'll bring him right home," Superman finished for her.

"Well, we're all assuming that Jason will want to go," Dad noted. "From what I've seen, I doubt he'll agree to spend two days alone with you."

My feet went to work before my brain had time to register what I was doing. I darted down the stairs as fast as I could, rounded the corner into the living room, and exclaimed, "I want to go!"

Three sets of eyes fell on me, each with a different expression. Dad frowned, worry etched clearly on his face. Mom's expression was open and hopeful, not really a smile, but definitely not a frown. And then I looked at him. He was smiling brightly, looking down at me in a way that made me feel so warm inside.

"Are you sure, Jason?" he asked me.

"I'm sure."

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Dad offered, and it sounded to me as if he wanted me to say I didn't want to go.

But I did, and so I repeated, "I want to go."

I tried to sound brave and unafraid. I tried to make them believe that I wasn't in the slightest bit worried about what might happen. But the truth was, I wasn't really sure of my decision. What would he expect me to do? What other secrets did he have to tell me? Would I be able to show him that I could be like him – that I could really be his son? All I knew for certain was that I didn't want my dream to come true. I didn't want him to be disappointed with me and eventually leave me. This was my chance to show him – to prove to myself that I could make it through all of this.

As the week passed, I grew more and more anxious over the whole thing. I thought I was doing a fair job of keeping my fears hidden, but Mom saw right through it. Several times she reminded me that I didn't have to go. What she didn't understand was that I did have to go. I had to prove myself.

My Dad said it one last time as he landed the plane on the water that Saturday morning. "You can still change your mind."

I shook my head. "No, I wanna go."

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself," Dad said.

I didn't have time to argue with him, because the door to the plane opened and he was suddenly there. I felt my stomach twist in a combination of excitement and worry. This was it. He had really come for me and he would take me where I could learn how to be just like him. I couldn't mess this up.

"Hello, Jason," he said calmly.

"Hi," I replied hesitantly.

"Are you ready to go?"

I nodded and grabbed my bag.

"He has all his medications," Mom chimed in. "And there is a fresh inhaler just in case something happens."

I rolled my eyes. "Mom, stop it."

"He'll be fine, Lois," Superman said. "I'll bring him back tomorrow night."

"We're going to be at my parent's house off the coast in Virginia," Dad reminded him.

"I know," Superman smiled, and then turned to me. "Ready?"

I nodded again. He stepped closer to me, slipping his arm around my waist.

"Put your arm around my shoulder," he said, and I did as he asked. I acted as if this wasn't anything special, like it was a common occurrence for him to take me flying, but as I felt my feet leave the ground, I grabbed on to him tightly with both hands, proving that this was far from ordinary for me. I heard him chuckle lightly and felt his hold on my side tighten.

"Okay?" he asked, looking at my face for any sign of doubt.

I nodded. "Yeah."

His gaze returned to the front as we flew over the water, up into the air, and circled around back towards land. Steadily, we climbed higher and higher until we were above the clouds. I closed my eyes and let the wind whip around us, brushing against my face, messing up my hair. It felt so wonderful. I felt… free.

I opened my eyes to find him looking at me with one eyebrow lifted. "Faster?"

I smiled brightly. "Yes!"

"All right," he grinned back at me. "But don't tell your mom."

I laughed and shook my head.

Suddenly, I felt my body being propelled forward, faster than I think I'd ever gone before. Clouds became a blur underneath us as we sped past them. What little bit of the earth I could see below looked like a patchwork quilt of farms and lakes and indistinguishable roads. And everything was quiet. So quiet. The wind and a few birds were the only sounds I could hear other than the two of us streaking through the clouds. I was amazed at how quiet it was. It made me want to stay in the sky forever.

And then I realized that someday, if I really wanted to, I would be able to stay up here forever. When I learned how to fly, I would spend all of my free time up here where it was quiet. I'd never have to be bothered with extra, unnecessary, distracting sounds again. And I'd be so fast. I'd fly everywhere and never have to worry about getting somewhere on time again. I couldn't wait!

Far too soon for my liking, we slowed down and started drifting back to the earth. I looked below, expecting to see the ice and snow of the Arctic, but to my surprise, my feet came to rest on grass. He gently placed me down and I turned around in a full circle, taking in my surroundings.

"This doesn't look like the Arctic," I said.

He smiled. "That's because it's not. It's Kansas."

I smirked at him. "You told Mom we were going to the Arctic."

"I said we'd go somewhere where you could be yourself and not worry about being seen," he pointed out.

He had said that, but he didn't say anything about Kansas. It was a half-truth, and he knew it.

"Then we aren't going to the Arctic?"

"We will," he promised, "but we'll go tomorrow."

"So, why are we here?" I asked, still confused by the sudden change in plans.

"I wanted you to see where I grew up."

I looked up at him, my jaw hanging open. "You grew up here?"

He smiled. "Come on, let me show you the house."

He led me inside a small farmhouse, taking my bags from me and walking towards the stairs. "I'll be right back," he said, and then he vanished.

I huffed in disappointment. This wasn't what I had been expecting. Visiting an ice fortress in the Arctic sounded wicked. Visiting a rundown, old farm in Kansas was just… boring. I glanced around the room and was instantly drawn to the piano in the corner. I was curious; could he play piano? And then I noticed the series of photos on top of the instrument. An older couple, looking exactly like something out of a storybook about farm life. And a young boy with glasses too big for his face and a grin about as cheesy as they come.

"I put your things upstairs," he said from behind me.

I turned around and tried to hide my surprise at seeing him dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt. He looked so… normal. I pulled my eyes away from him and turned back to look at the photos.

"Who are these people?"

"Those are my parents," he explained, coming to stand next to me.

I frowned up at him. "But I thought—"

"My human parents," he corrected. "Jonathan and Martha Kent. They raised me. I was about three years old when I arrived on earth. They found me and took care of me as if I were their own child."

"You're adopted?"

"Um hum," he hummed with a nod.

I suddenly felt very connected to him right then. I guess I'd just never realized that his biological parents didn't raise him, much the same way that I wasn't being raised by my biological father. I had to know that at some level, but it wasn't until this moment that it felt important to me.

"Where are they?" I asked, looking back at the photo.

"My father died of a heart attack when I was eighteen. And Mom died a few years ago." He looked very sad. "It was just her time."

"I'm sorry," I said, not sure what to say.

He smiled down at me and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about."

"Is this you?" I asked, picking up one of the photos of the young boy.

"Yes," he groaned. "Terrible picture, isn't it? I hadn't quite… grown into my body yet and was very gangly."

"You were a nerd," I announced bravely.

He laughed. "I was not the most popular kid in school, no."

"But," I started, uncertain of how to word what I was thinking. "But you're Superman. How could you not be popular?"

"Well, I wasn't always Superman. When I was that age," he said, indicating the picture, "I was just Clark Kent."

"There's nothing wrong with being Clark Kent," I mumbled. "If you'd just stop tripping over your feet all the time, people might like you more. Mom might like you more." I wasn't sure why I said that, but he didn't seem to mind.

"You know, I do that on purpose."

I nodded. "Yeah, I know." And I hated it.

He took the photo from me and set it back on the piano. "Enough about me. This trip is supposed to be about you." He sat down on the arm of an oversized chair. "What would you like to do first?"

I shrugged. "What is there to do? I mean, I really don't want to pluck chickens or milk cows."

He chuckled. "I didn't bring you here to milk a cow. I brought you here for this." He took my hand and led me out onto the porch. "Look out there. What do you see?"

"Corn," I answered unenthusiastically.

"Yup," he replied. "Just corn… and a few animals. No people."

I looked up at him as the pieces started to click into place in my brain.

"Corn as far as the eye can see, Jason. A person could do an awful lot of running out there and never be seen by anyone." Slowly, he turned his face to mischievously look down at me.

Was he saying what I thought he was saying? Had he brought me here so I could… run? So I could try to do all the things I'd wanted to do but couldn't try in the city? I had to be sure. "Are you serious?" I said.

"I am."

I grinned madly. "You'll let me go?"

"Just stay on the farm."

"How will I know if I'm leaving your land?"

"You should be okay so long as you don't jump over any fences… which might be a really easy thing depending on how high you can jump."

I couldn't believe this. He was going to let me go. He was going to let me run and do whatever I wanted. I was itching to run – to see how fast I could actually go – to try out these abilities of mine and see just how much I could really do. And I wanted him to see that I was able to do it. That I truly could do it all if I tried. It was such a big farm. I could run for hours without end.

"What if I get lost?" I asked, my legs shaking and ready to dart off the porch at the slightest impetus.

"I'll find you," he promised.

I looked out over the open field, imagining what it would be like to run. Wanting to believe that this was real and not some dream.

"Go, Jason."

My eyes met his, and he smiled down at me. "Run."

"As fast as I can?"

"As fast as you can," he repeated in a whisper.

My eyes focused forward with determination. I wet my lips in anticipation. And I ran. I ran so fast I actually left a trail of dust behind me. I ran for several minutes, testing out the feel of the ground under my feet and the way my body worked. I'd never had the chance to run like this before. I always held back just in case anyone got suspicious. But this time I pushed as hard as I could, and it felt wonderful.

I came to a stop near the silo I remembered seeing in the middle of the field earlier. I was a long way from the house already, and I was amazed at how little time it took me to get this far out. I was breathing heavily, but so what. I'd just run faster than everyone else on earth combined. Well… almost everyone. He came running up to me, proving that as fast as I was, he was faster .

"Good?" he said with a smile.

"I love it," I grinned, trying to slow my breathing.

"Then why did you stop?"

I laughed and took off once again, pushing my feet into the earth as hard and as rapidly as they would go. I felt so strong, so light, so unbelievably free. It was almost like flying. The cool breeze on my skin mixed with the warmth of the sun gave me all the power I needed. I ran and I ran and I ran, until at last I had to stop to catch my breath.

I was bent over panting hard, with my hands on my knees, when he came up beside me. "Are you all right?"

"I'm good," I breathed. "I just need – to catch – my breath."

"Are you having an asthma attack?" His voice sounded worried.

"No," I panted. "I'm just not used to such – fresh air."

"You're sure you're all right?"

I hated that he thought I was weak. "I'm fine," I snapped. "How fast do you think I went?"

"I'm not sure. Do you want me to time you?"

"Would you?" I said with wide eyes.

He pointed back to the silo. "It's about a mile from the silo to the house. I'll meet you back at the silo and we can time your run to the house."

"'Kay." I nodded.

And off we went. I wanted to try to get to the silo first, but had no such luck. He was there waiting for me, not a hair out of place and looking not the least bit winded. I huffed the air in and out of my lungs, trying to slow my heart and calm my breathing.

"Maybe we should take a break?" he offered.

"I wanna – do this – first," I huffed, taking a running stance and waiting for him to tell me to go.

"All right, I'll give you the signal and then meet you back at the silo with your time."

Was he trying to show off for me? I nodded and tried to ignore how superior he sounded.

"On your mark, get set, GO!"

I pushed off as hard as I could, my feet gripping into the dirt so that I could run as fast as I could towards the silo. It didn't take me long at all, and I came to a halt next to him, dust flying all around the air from our fast feet.

He looked down at his watch, "I have one minute and forty-seven seconds."

"Is that good?" I asked tentatively.

"Yeah," he said, but he didn't look me in the eyes. It might be good, but he was disappointed that it wasn't better.

"Let me try again," I said, getting myself ready.

"Jason, you don't have to do—"

"On your mark," I said, ignoring him. "Get set. GO!"

I darted back to the house as fast as my legs would carry me. I was very tired, but I wasn't about to show him that. Unfortunately, I hadn't taken into account the dust particles floating in the air, getting into my lungs as I inhaled deeply. I got to the house and sat down on the step, trying to steady my breath and not go into a coughing fit.

"How was that?" I panted out.

"One minute, thirty –two seconds."

"See, I can get better." I took a deep breath and immediately began coughing. Dust filled my lungs and I choked, sending me into a wheezing fit.

"Jason?" His hands were on my back, gently patting me as if that would make my lungs clear up. "What do I do?"

I gasped for breath, unable to talk.

"Jason!" He sounded panicked now. "Where's your inhaler?"

I pointed to the house and barley managed to rattle out the word, "Bag."

In a flash, he was gone and then back again, with my inhaler in his hand. "Here, breathe."

I sucked in the medicine, as deeply as I could and slowly started to feel the constriction in my lungs subside. I coughed a few more times, but my breathing eventually returned to normal. I looked up at his face to find worry lines etched between his eyebrows. I didn't like that look. It made me feel pathetic and useless, like a weakling runt.

"Are you okay?" he asked in concern.

"Yeah." I took another deep breath to prove that I was fine. "Sorry."

"I shouldn't have pushed you so hard."

I stood up, looking him directly in the eyes and hoping I could make him understand. "It wasn't the running that brought it on. It was the dust. I can do this. I can. But with all the dust in the air—"

He put his hand on my shoulder. "Maybe we should go inside and rest for awhile."

I jerked away from him, angry at the suggestion that I couldn't handle these alien powers he had unknowingly passed on to me. "No! I can do this! I want to show you what I can do!"

"Jason, I don't want you to—"

"Please," I begged.

His eyes bore into mine as he considered what we should do next. He sighed, looking out at the golden field of corn before turning back to me. "How about we try jumping. Maybe there's less dust with jumping."

He was right, there wasn't as much dust, and soon I was jumping so high I felt as if I might start flying any moment. He told me that was how he had first flown. That he hovered off the ground after falling through the barn roof. He even showed me the patch job his father had made him do to repair the hole. So as I jumped, I imagined myself floating down, stopping just short of the ground so that I could hover in the air. I always came down, though. I'd do it someday, I was sure, just not today. I'd show him I could do it.

By the time dinner rolled around, I was tired and sweaty and downright dirty from all the outdoor activity. I washed up while he went for pizza and earned another, "Just don't tell your mother," from him after I explained how Mom never let me have cheese pizza. Didn't he know by now that I was really good at keeping things from my mom?

I nearly inhaled my pizza, I was so hungry, and as my stomach started to fill, I felt my eyelids begin to grow heavy. I'm not sure how long I was out of it, but I fell asleep on the sofa. He woke me up and helped me get up to bed. I was going to sleep in his old bedroom, the room with the ceiling covered in glow-in-the-dark stars. Just before sleep took over, I noticed that in the middle of all the yellow-white stars was a solitary red one, and I couldn't help but wonder if that was Krypton.

Somewhere in the distance of my subconscious, I thought I heard someone say, "Goodnight… son."

AN#2: I'd like to recommend the fic Everything Light and Good by LostnSpace. It's quite possibly one of the most heart-wrenching fics I've read in a long time!