AN: Sometimes chapters that you hadn't planned on writing just kind of pop out of nowhere. This is one of those chapters. I new that the events of this chapter had to happen at some point in the story, I just didn't know they would happen now. As it is, I think it worked rather nicely and ended up being a bit of a surprise to my beta readers… so that's always a plus for me! That being said, readers should know that this chapter is VERY PG-13 for the adult situations.

Many thanks to htbthomas, the super!beta, Hellish Red Devil, who I now think of as my biggest fan, and sillybella for trying to explain passive voice to me! LOL! You guys all rock and I appreciate you so very much!

Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter: Eva Haley, babyKay47, Moonlight234, john1234, fenice, AgiVega, Maykay13, Eviefan, Prisca-BoggyHillocks, Shadeslayer390, katbaby, queequeg1013, heartnut, ros89, Lisa, xenokattz, elliania, shaanlien, and ellalou73. You made this my highest reviewed chapter since Age 11, which made me a very happy fan fic writer!

Age 16 – Into the Fire

The city looked so beautiful in the evening, the sun just beginning to set behind all the towering buildings. Shadows grew longer as the sky changed colors from blue to orange to red. From my high vantage point, I could just make out the light dancing over the water off on the horizon. The sounds of cars and people rushing home from their jobs littered the streets below. The wind dusted across my face, warm and relaxing. The whole scene should have relaxed me, yet I was as tense as could be.

I had made a deal with myself that I wouldn't talk to him anymore, and I hesitated breaking that deal for any reason. However, this wasn't just any reason anymore. This was something huge – something that could change my life and everything I knew yet once again. It was personal and more than a bit embarrassing, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. I had to know. I had to ask him about it, even if it killed me.

Nobody ever wanted to talk to their parents about this kind of thing, and I whole-heartedly lumped myself in that crowd. I didn't want to talk about this, but I didn't have much of a choice. I considered going to Mom to talk to her about it, but then I recalled something I'd heard her say once – that she didn't know what really happened. She didn't remember everything, odd as that sounded. There were flashes of moments, but she couldn't piece them all together. So I was left with only one option; to ask him about it, and that meant breaking the deal I'd made with myself.

I couldn't go on much longer without knowing. I had thought that I could just ignore the question and try to answer it for myself, but that had gone horribly wrong and left me even more perplexed and worried than before I'd tried. Worse than that, it had frightened Meredith as well. Above all things, I didn't want to hurt her — I never wanted to hurt her. That's why I had to know.

It wasn't just for me that I was waiting on this roof to for him to show up, as I knew he would. It was for Meredith as well. She told me she wanted this. She told me she wanted me to be her first, and so help me, I felt the same way. I was sixteen and she was beautiful. She would kiss me and the world would vanish for a blissful while. Her hands on my skin would turn my brain into mush. And when she pressed against me, hip to hip, I would lose all control. What normal sixteen year old guy wouldn't? My problem was… I wasn't normal.

The real cause for my immediate concern happened just two days ago in the basement of Meredith's house. We had simply been watching a DVD, curled up against each other as usual, when the movie went from less of a comedy into more of a romance. The feeling around our bodies instantly became charged with sexual energy. Her hand snaked up my leg. My hand curved over her breast. Our lips met and soon she was writhing beneath me, wrapping her leg around mine, and pulling me close to her. I didn't protest and slid my other hand to her waist so that I could hold her in place against me. I molded her flesh, squeezing a little harder than I intended because I'd lost all ability to think rationally.

She grumbled against my mouth.

I pressed my hips hard against hers.

She winced and gasped.

I tugged on her waist to fit her body more snuggly against mine.

"Ouch!" she cried.

But I kissed her harder.

"Jason! Stop! You're hurting me!"

I broke away from her as if ice had been poured on my body. "Oh, no! I'm sorry!"

She chuckled. "It's okay. I'm anxious, too. I guess you just don't know your own strength."

My blood ran cold at hearing her phrase it like that. She reached for me, but I sat up and faced away from her.

"Jason, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay."

"Yes, it is. Just be a bit more… gentle. I've never done this before."

My eyes closed as I considered that I'd never done this before either and I wasn't exactly sure if I could do it without really hurting her. My hands were pretty strong. My legs were even stronger. I'd have to be very, very careful, and considering that I lost all ability to even form a coherent thought when her body was pressed against mine, I couldn't imagine that I'd be successful in keeping a gentle pace to things.

I stood up and announced that I had to go.

"No, Jason. Please come back."

"Sorry, Meredith. I just… I gotta go."

"Jason, oh come on," she sighed, her voice sounding very sad. "I want this. I want this with you."

I grabbed my car keys from the table and headed for the stairs.

"I promise, I won't complain again." She sounded desperate now.

"Meredith, no."

"Just come back, please!"

I hadn't seen her since then. I'd been too embarrassed to face her - to admit that I didn't think I could be with her in that way without physically really hurting her. I knew that it was usually painful when it was a girl's first time, but this was different. I'd probably harm her regardless if it was her first or her hundredth time. I wasn't even sure if I could ever do that with anyone.

That's why I had to talk to him now. Obviously he and Mom had… well… hadn't they? I was kind of the proof that they had at least once, wasn't I? And since they had… and Mom was still alive and well… then he hadn't really hurt her. Or had he? Is that why she couldn't remember much about that time? Or was I an experiment of sorts? Like some strange Kryptonian test tube baby? Given everything I'd learned the one time I'd been to his ice palace up north, I could very well have been an experiment to see if Jor-El was telling the truth when he said that a human and a Kryptonian couldn't have a child together.

However, as much as I didn't like him, I couldn't see him doing anything mean like that to my mom. I wasn't blind to the way he looked at Mom. He loved her; I knew that for certain, regardless of the fact that I would never understand why he left her if he loved her so much. And so it seemed to me that they had been together… intimately, even if the idea made me slightly nauseous to consider. Still, the possibility remained that they just might not have. I needed to know the truth, and the only way to know for certain was to ask him, pointblank.

I came to the Planet after school today on the pretense that I was tired of eating dinner alone and wanted to catch a meal with Mom and Dad for once. They were busy finishing up a story, as usual, and left me on my own for a while. I made a point of catching Clark's eye as I headed to the elevator, and with my own unnatural ability to see through solid object, I watched him as he made some lame excuse to Perry about needing to run an errand.

Once I was up on the roof, I walked to the edge, sat down on the ledge, and waited. Only a few minutes had passed when I felt the familiar and not altogether welcome chill of the air as he flew by, stopping just behind me. It didn't escape my notice that he'd changed into the costume. Couldn't he just do this as Clark? Did he have to rub it in at every instance he could that he was superior to me?

"Hello, Jason," he said solemnly.

I didn't answer him.

"Why are you sitting on the ledge?" he asked quietly.

I wanted to say, "To piss you off," but I held my tongue.

"Are you going to talk to me?"

I shrugged.

"I got the impression that you wanted to talk to me."

Score one for the man in tights. At least he got something right…for once.

"I know you're angry with me."

I huffed. That was the understatement of the century.

"I know we need to talk about what happened and why I—"

"That's not why I came up here," I interrupted.

"It's not?" he sounded surprised.

"Not everything is always about you," I sneered.

He flinched slightly. "Fine, but will you please come down from there before you fall and hurt yourself?"

"Fall?" I scoffed. "I know I can't fly, so there's no reason to rub it in."

He didn't say a word in reply. So that left it up to me to go on.

"I wanted to know…" I sighed and took a deep breath. Without looking at him, I let the words stumble out of my mouth in the most incoherent way. "Okay, look, all I need is a yes or a no answer. You don't have to explain anything. I don't need any details. Quite frankly, I really don't want to think about it, but I need to know. And I don't want you bugging me about why I need to know. I just do. It's embarrassing enough as it is to have to ask you this, but I can't go to Mom 'cause she doesn't remember. So, just a yes or a no and we'll leave it at that."

His brows were knit together in confusion. "Okay," he said slowly.

I exhaled sharply, screwing up my courage to ask this highly embarrassing question. My face was already red, but I went forward anyway. Best to make it quick and get it over with. "Did you have sex with Mom?"

My question hung in the air surrounded by stunned silence.

I risked a glance over my shoulder at him. His mouth was hanging open slightly, a look of confusion and astonishment warring for supremacy on his face. It was almost comical.

"Well?" I said.

"I… beg your pardon?" he replied.

I groaned. "Don't make me repeat it."

His mouth opened and then closed and opened again, fish-like. "I just… wasn't expecting…" He blinked and took a step forward. "Why are you asking this?"

"I told you I didn't want to explain it," I grumbled. "I just need a yes or a no answer."

"Well, it's not as simple as that, Jason."

"Oh, good grief," I rolled my eyes and turned my body on the ledge to face him. "Yes, it is that simple. Did you or didn't you? That's all I need to know."

He wet his lips. "Well… Jason… my relationship with Lois was – is – complicated."

"Complicated. Right, I get that." I was growing very frustrated with him. "But did you have sex or what?"

A frown crossed his face. "Or what?" he asked. "What else do you suppose—"

I blurted it out. "I'm not a test tube baby, am I?"

"Oh, Jason," he gasped. "Heavens no! Why would you even think—"

"Well, what else am I supposed to think? You won't give me a straight answer. And Mom doesn't remember it. For all I know you took her up to your little 'Love Shack' of ice and experimented on her."

"Jason, stop it right now," he snapped. "That's not what happened."

"Then what did happen?" I fumed. "Did you or didn't you?"

He paused, staring at me intensely as if deciding how best to explain my unusual existence. Very softly, his voice no more than a whisper, he said, "Of course we made love."

"Good, 'cause that's all I needed to know," I said quickly. Not wanting any more details, I swung my legs over the edge with the intention of climbing down.

"But you need to understand something," he said, coming closer to me.

"No, I don't need to hear anything else," I insisted, standing up. "That's all I came here for."

"Jason, it wasn't what you think." His hand reached out to touch me, and I instinctively drew away from him.

"Don't," I demanded, stepping backwards.

Before I knew what was happening, my leg hit the side of the building and I lost my balance. I tried to catch myself, but I wobbled backwards instead and went right over the side of the ledge. The air left my lungs as I plummeted downwards , but only for a moment. Just as I had predicted, he caught me securely in his arms and floated me back to the roof, where he gingerly released me. The whole incident lasted all of five minutes, but they were five minutes that changed everything. Even though I was unaware of it that would be the last time I would fly with him for almost five years.

I waited for the inevitable "I told you so" that I so richly deserved, but to my surprise, he stayed quiet.

I wasn't like him though – I couldn't stay quiet. "Bet you enjoyed that," I growled.

"Why would I enjoy the possibility of you getting hurt?"

"Because it proves the point that I can't fly. I'll never be able to fly."

He sighed, "Then you do want to talk about it. I wanted to—"

"No, I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk to you anymore. I got what I came for and that's enough." I took a step away from him. "Your services are no longer needed."

"Jason—"

"Now, I'm going to go back inside and tell Mom that I was talking to Marcus on the phone and got distracted. That's going to be my story. I'll leave you to decide what your story will be." I ran back inside the building, ignoring the way his shoulders and head slumped in defeat.

Even though I had my answer – even though I knew it was possible – it still didn't help matters much. I was ever conscious of the way I would touch Meredith and how she would respond. My fear that I would hurt her didn't go away. One look from her – one touch and I was lost to my feelings. Once carnal instinct took over, I wasn't sure I'd be able to be careful enough and keep from holding her too tightly. It was better just to avoid it altogether.

And so, for reasons she would never understand, I started to keep my distance from Meredith. We would still see each other and go out, and I would still kiss her every now and then, but the moment the energy shifted and her body would come into contact with mine, I would pull away. After a month or so of such unusual behavior, Meredith couldn't help but question me about it.

"What's wrong, Jason?" she asked one night after I drove her home from a movie. Her hand had wandered dangerously up my thigh, and I had removed it and placed it back in her lap. "I thought you wanted this as much as I do?"

"Mer, it isn't that I don't want it." GOD no! I really did want it; I just didn't think I would be able to without sending her to the emergency room.

"Then why won't you let me get close anymore?"

I sighed and resorted to my current lame excuse. "I just think we'd be better off waiting."

She shook her head. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to say to you?"

"Maybe," I said with a hard laugh. "I just don't… We don't know what could happen."

"Like what? What could happen?" she challenged.

"I dunno. Anything."

"What exactly are you afraid of, Jason?" she pressed.

I had to come up with something. "Well, what if you got pregnant?" It hadn't even been something that I'd thought about, so the question surprised me as much as it did her.

"We'll be careful," she said, taking my hand.

"Careful," I mocked. "That's what I'm trying to be." I blinked and looked up into her eyes. "Are you on the pill?"

"Are you crazy?" she laughed. "My Mom and Dad would freak out if I asked them for that."

"Well, there you go."

"There are other ways that we could be careful," she insisted.

I ran my hand through my hair. "But nothing's a guarantee. Why are you in such a rush for this, anyway?" I thought that if I could put some of the focus on her it would be easier for me to keep saying no.

"I'm not in a rush," she gaped at me. "I'm just… confused. If I were with any other guy right now, we wouldn't be having this discussion."

"Well, you're not with any other guy. You're with me." I was angry at her for the implication.

"Right, and I can't figure out why you aren't even interested."

"Meaning you could have any guy you wanted, right?" I snapped.

She glared at me. "I have had other boyfriends."

"So, why didn't you sleep with any of them?"

"Would you rather I had?"

"I dunno, Mer. You seem to be awfully focused on having sex with someone that it doesn't sound too far-fetched at this point."

"But I didn't!"

"Why not?"

"Because it didn't feel right!" she said pointedly.

"Well, maybe it doesn't feel right for me with you." I regretted saying it the moment it was out of my mouth.

She inhaled sharply and I could see the wetness swelling in her eyes. "Fine," she muttered after a second, grabbing up her purse and opening the car door. "Fine."

"Meredith—" I called to her.

"Just go home, Jason," she said climbing out of the car.

"Meredith, I didn't mean it like th—"

The door slammed and she darted up to her front door, slipping inside very quickly. I collapsed back against the seat, feeling just awful for saying what I had. Inside her house, I could hear Meredith crying, telling her mother that I had essentially dumped her tonight. I closed my eyes and slid down in my seat, hating myself for lying to her and making her think I didn't want her. The curtain parted and I saw the angry face of Meredith's father. I put the car in gear and drove away from the house like a coward, unable to face the mess I'd made.

When I arrived home, Mom was at her computer in the office and Dad was watching the news. I was fuming with anger at myself, so it was no surprise that Mom noticed how mad I was from the moment I stepped into the house.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," I snapped. I tossed my coat in the closet and started to head up the steps to my room.

"Did something happen with Meredith?" she asked.

"I don't want to talk about it, Mom."

"Jason," she sighed, coming to the foot of the stairs. "Did you have a fight?"

I couldn't look at her. "Something like that."

She frowned. "I'm sorry, honey, but Meredith is a sweet girl. I'm sure you two will work it out."

"Not likely," I mumbled. "We broke up."

"Oh, no. I'm sorry."

"What happened?" Dad asked, coming down the hall.

"Meredith broke up with Jason," Mom explained.

"No," I corrected. "I broke up with her."

Dad looked at me in confusion. "Why? I thought you liked her."

"I do like her! I like her a lot! I just…" I couldn't find the words to express my dilemma. It wasn't something I wanted to discuss with them. Instead, I pushed past them and headed into the kitchen. "Just forget it."

"Jason, we can't just forget it. You're upset," Mom said, following me into the kitchen where she leaned against the counter. Dad joined her a moment later.

"What happened?" he asked again.

I shook my head, embarrassed and feeling completely worthless. "I happened," I said under my breath. "Everything is just a mess right now," I complained, keeping my back to them.

"Everyone feels that way when they are a teenager," Mom offered. "It's normal."

"Normal?" I grumbled. "It's not normal, Mom."

"I think what your mother means is that at your age breaking up and feeling badly about it is a normal thing," Dad explained.

"And what I mean is that there is nothing normal about me," I countered. Turning around to face them, I let it all out. "You can go on insisting that things are normal – pretend that everything is fine, but I can't. There is nothing normal about my life because I am not normal!" The rage was growing inside of me now, bubbling over.

"It's not normal to be able to hear the conversations going on in the next house!" I said, my voice growing in volume as my anger increased. "It is not normal to be able to see that Mom was working on a story about the up coming election," I fumed, taking a quick peek at her computer through the walls. "It's not normal that I could make it into the city and back in a matter of minutes without breaking a sweat if I had the chance." I circled around and picked up a metal trivet from off the counter. "It is not normal that I can crush things with my bare hands!" As I spoke, the trivet became a mass of tangled metal under the pressure of my hands. "You tell me what is normal about any of that!" I slammed the remains of the trivet down on the counter.

"Honey—" Mom started to take a step closer to me.

"I just want it to stop!" I shouted, pounding my hands down on the stove and leaving dents in the process. "DAMN IT!" I said when I saw the imprints my fists had made. "I hate this!"

The fire inside of me had reached a breaking point – literally. It spilled out of me, hot and fierce, taking me totally by surprise. I could feel the heat and see the flame, but I didn't realize where the fire had started. I looked down at the stove, over the wall, and up to the cabinetry above before I realized that I was the one causing the fire. It was heat vision, and everything I looked at was catching fire.

"Jason! Stop!" my mother yelled from behind me.

Instantly, I snapped my eyes shut and sank down to the floor in horror at myself. I covered my eyes with my hands, fearful that I might accidentally open them again and set fire to something else, perhaps even burn one of my parents.

The fire alarm went off sending a ringing signal throughout the house that stung my ears. I heard what I interpreted to be a fire extinguisher blowing foam over the burnt area. I could even feel a few specks of the foam as it drifted onto my skin.

"Jason," Dad's voice came from beside me. His hand rested on my shoulder. "Are you all right?"

I wanted to shout at him that I wasn't all right at all, but I knew that he was questioning my health and not my emotional stability. "I'm not hurt, if that's what you mean," I mumbled, my voice cracking.

"We should call 911," Dad said.

"We should call for Superman," Mom replied.

"NO!" I shouted.

"Jason—"

"NO! I don't want him here!" I reiterated.

"Honey, you have to have help!"

"There isn't anything he can do, Mom!" I bellowed. "What exactly do you think he can do for me, anyway? He can't take my eyes out of my head. He can't stop me from being a freak!"

"He can help you. He can teach you." She was kneeling beside me now.

"Mom," I sighed. "He's had sixteen years to help me and he never has. What makes you think he'll start now?"

"Oh, Jason," she whispered, her hand stroking my face. "You can't go through life with your eyes covered."

Slowly, I lowered my hands from my eyes and blinked them open. It was a risk, I knew that, but I also knew that Mom would insist on telling Mr. Wonderful if I couldn't control this new ability. I was still angry, but I didn't feel the power of the rage like I had just a moment before. The heat and the energy of the fire weren't there inside me, so I knew it was safe to open my eyes.

"See? I'm fine," I managed to say.

Mom and Dad only frowned uncomfortably at me. Although they tried not to show it, I could see that both of them were afraid to have me look directly at them. I couldn't blame them. It gave new meaning to the saying "if looks could kill."

I stood up and inspected the damage I'd caused. One whole entire wall of the kitchen was destroyed, including the stove.

"I'm sorry," I said remorsefully. "I didn't know I could do that. I didn't mean to."

There was a long moment of silence before my dad said, "It's okay, Jason. We're just glad you aren't hurt."

I looked over my shoulder at my Mom still crouched on the floor and said, "Do you still think I'm normal?"

She stood up. "I think you're special."

I rolled my eyes. "Let's just call it what it is, Mom. I'm part alien." I looked back at the burned kitchen. "It's for things like this that I broke up with Meredith. You can pretend all you want, but I know that I will never have a normal life. That's something I'm just going to have to live with forever."

I heard her take a deep breath.

"Do me a favor," I continued. "Don't tell him about this."

"But Jason—"

"Just don't," I stressed. "I really don't want to talk to him. He doesn't make me feel better. I always walk away feeling worthless and like a total failure. I already feel badly enough. Let's not beat a dead horse."

To my surprise, she pulled me around to face her. "Look at me," she said. When I didn't, she cupped my face in her hands and forced me to look at her. "Look at me." Very evenly, she said, "You are not worthless, so stop talking like that. You had a bad day, and because of your abilities, your bad days end up being ten times worse than they should be for someone your age. But you are not worthless, Jason. You are smart – probably smarter than I am. You are talented. And I love you."

Her arms came around me, and I fell easily into her embrace. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"It's okay," she soothed. "You're going to be fine. I promise I won't say anything to Superman."

Dad clapped a hand on my back to offer his support. I looked up at him and repeated my apology to him as well.

"I ruined the kitchen," I said as we all took in the damage.

"Don't worry about the kitchen," Dad said. "It can all be replaced. Besides, it's not like we didn't know what you were capable of."

"What do you mean?" I frowned. "I didn't know I could do this."

"No, of course not. But you know, it's not like there's a guidebook for how to raise a child with super powers."

Mom and I both slowly turned our heads to glare at him.

"What?" he gaped. "Well, there isn't. It sure would come in handy if there was a 'Dummies Guide for How to Control Your Heat Vision.'"

I snorted. "That would be a short book. Step one – close your eyes."

Beside me, after a long moment of quiet, my mother stifled a laugh.

"Are you laughing at me?" I asked.

She shook her head no… and then yes.

"I don't think it's funny." But even as I said it, I felt the smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "Hey, I broke up with my girlfriend today. I burnt down the kitchen."

"You're right, it's not funny. Not at all," Mom said, trying to keep a straight face.

It didn't last long.

"I'm sorry," she said, breaking at last. "I was just thinking the other day that I really hated the cabinets in here and how I now have a good excuse to replace them. And then you go and make the comment about keeping your eyes closed. I just found it all funny."

"I don't think burning things with your eyes is something to laugh at," I pointed out, still holding back a smile.

"No. No, you're right, Jason," Dad said. "We should treat this as a very serious matter." He paused and looked around me over to Mom. "I think maybe we should go with a dense wood or even a metal cabinet. Something that doesn't burn as easily."

"You guys," I groaned.

"Okay," Dad smiled. "We'll stop. We were only trying to make you feel better."

"I know," I sighed.

"And look on the bright side," Mom added. "We're going to be ordering take-out and pizza until this place gets fixed."

I couldn't hold it back any longer, and I smiled.

"See, I knew you'd see it our way eventually," Mom said lightly.

"Thanks," I said.

"Hey, we love you, Jason," Dad said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"I know."

In the end, Meredith and I officially broke up the next Monday at school. We spent the rest of the year avoiding each other. I found out later that she honestly thought I didn't like her. I tired to tell her that wasn't the case, but I don't think she ever believed me. I missed her terribly and considered trying to get back together with her, but by the time I got up the courage she was already dating Will Dennison. I'd probably always think of her as the one that got away.

The damage to the kitchen ended up costing Mom and Dad about three thousand dollars to fix. I helped out by doing a lot of the hard labor that came easy to me, like carrying the old stove out to the dumpster. To my surprise, Mom kept her word and didn't tell Superman about the accident, and that was fine with me. If I had my way, I'd never have to see him ever again. I should have known better though; things never worked out the way I wanted them to.