Jon watched in horror as his dad's body crumpled to the ground.
A slow, disconnected feeling washed over him, and he blinked several times, his mind struggling to accept the reality of what he'd just seen. Various indistinguishable movements danced in his peripheries, and he could hear vague sounds of shock and distress, but they seemed faint and distant. Like a radio playing quietly in the background.
The only thing he could hear loud and clear was the steady thumping of his own heart.
'Dad?' his brother's confused question drifted through his surreal haze. His movements felt impossibly slow as he turned to face him.
Jon realised dimly that they were standing now, though he had no memory of getting up from their booth. As he met his brother's horrified expression, the growing sense of dread that had been working its way through him grabbed tightly hold of his chest.
'He's just faking,' he reasoned with himself, hoping his expression conveyed the same to Jordan. 'He has to be faking.'
Jon returned his gaze to where his dad had fallen, scanning him intently from head to toe for any sign of movement that might prove his theory. Maybe an eye would peek open slightly. Or maybe he'd just twitch a finger or do some other subtle movement. Give them some sign that he wasn't as unconscious as he looked, that he was just biding his time.
Something. Anything. Please.
He held his breath as he willed it to be true, his body tensing as though he could physically force reality if he just pushed hard enough. Then his eyes drifted to the slowly spreading patch of blood soaking through his dad's plaid shirt and he felt his breath leave him like a deflating balloon. A strange, pained sound came up from his throat so unexpectedly he almost didn't recognise it as his own.
'Oh my god,' he heard Mrs Cushing gasp sharply next to him, her hand flying up to her mouth.
She stood transfixed, along with the rest of the diner's occupants. Their bodies seemed frozen like statues, either staring at the spot where his dad had fallen or eyeing the gunmen with hyper vigilance. Jon could see they wanted to help his dad… but they also didn't want to attract any fatal attention.
He felt his brother grab his arm tightly, and he reached out his hand to return the unspoken request for contact. Lana glanced in their direction protectively, as though somehow wanting to shield them from what they were seeing, but her worried gaze offered no sense of comfort. Jon quickly turned his attention to the other side of the diner, desperately searching for his mom's face.
Just as his eyes reached hers, she seemed to break out of her own frozen spell. His dad's name came screaming up from her throat, ripping through whatever surreal feeling had been protecting him so far, and returning the world violently to full speed. Jon felt his heart rate triple as he watched his mom scramble across the room, collapsing at his dad's side and lifting his head gently onto her knee.
'C'mon Clark, wake up,' she said urgently, pressing two fingers into his neck to identify a pulse, before her eyes drifted down to the still bleeding stab wound in his abdomen.
'Mom,' Jon choaked out, as something wet trickled down his cheek and he realised he must be crying.
'It's okay boys,' she tried to reassure her sons, quickly taking off her sweater and placing it over his dad's shirt in an effort to stop the bleeding. 'He's going to be okay.'
Jon tried to remind himself that this was his dad. He was different. He wasn't just going to die, even with kryptonite around. He had super-healing, right? Any minute now he was going to wake up all flustered, and then they'd have to figure out some ridiculous cover story for how he miraculously got better.
That's what he kept tell himself as he continued to stare at the widening puddle of blood forming on the diner floor.
'What have you done?' he heard his grandpa demand angrily, turning towards his dad's attacker.
The man was silent at first, seemingly enthralled with the blood covered blade in his hand. He smiled to himself as he reached into his jacket pocket and took out a handkerchief, slowly and purposefully wiping the blood from the blade.
'You knew the terms of our agreement, General,' Kurt replied, as though stabbing his dad had been a simple business transaction.
Despite his professional mask, Jon could see something darker had made itself known the moment the man had drawn blood. Something that had probably been lurking underneath the whole time. The man seemed unnervingly calm, but there was a look of deep satisfaction on his face that made Jon feel nauseous. Like a trophy hunter posing with their kill.
Even Johnny and Sharon seemed to have noticed the shift in their comrade's behaviour, staying quiet despite their obvious agitation. Johnny cradled his injured hand protectively as he glared at their so-called partner, and Sharon simply stared blankly at his dad's body on the floor, like she was processing the full reality of what she was now a part of.
'Please,' his mom pleaded, trying to supress the anger Jon knew must be thumping away inside her. 'We need to get him out of here.'
'He needs medical attention,' Sam added, still regarding Clark's unmoving body with an air of disbelief.
Kurt eyed his grandad curiously, as though analysing another piece of the puzzle. Jon watched nervously as the man leaned in and whispered in his grandad's ear.
The General's usually stoic expression turned dark and grim. He swallowed slowly, giving the man a regretful, wary look, but staying uncharacteristically silent.
'Jon,' his brother let out a terrified whisper, letting him know his super-hearing had successfully picked up the man's secret threat.
Jon's stomach turned as their grandad glanced briefly in their direction with a whole new level of fear in his eyes. Watching the well-dressed man carefully fold the handkerchief and place it back in his pocket like a delicate prize, Jon began to realize he didn't need super-hearing to work out what had been said.
The man had his dad's blood. He already suspected who his dad really was... now it looked like he had a way of proving it.
As though somehow reading his mind, Kurt's gaze turned towards him, and Jon saw an unmistakable flash of sickening excitement. Whatever this guy wanted with his dad's blood, there was no pretending he and his brother weren't a part of it too.
Jon kicked himself for being so petulant earlier. Ever since his dad had come back from bizzarro earth, Jon had been wondering what it would be like if everyone just knew the truth. Now, with Kurt looking at him and his brother like specimens he'd like to keep in a jar, he finally understood just how dangerous their family secret really was.
His dad had tried to tell him it wasn't something to take lightly, but he was still so angry with him for the way he'd reacted after he was caught with X-K, and he was struggling not to push back against everything he said just to get a rise out of him. Sure, he got that he was going to have to deal with the consequences of what he'd done, but he couldn't understand why his dad seemed to be so concerned with the subject of lying… and yet was totally avoiding why his 'normal' son might have wanted to use X-K in the first place.
Even his mom hadn't dug too deeply into that side of things, and as much as he wanted to open up, he just didn't know how to start that kind of conversation or how to explain all the things he was feeling. He felt so ashamed of it all - of being jealous, insecure, desperate, lost…
But wasn't it their job to notice this stuff? Surely it didn't take a detective to realise he might be feeling more than a little bit… invisible lately.
Not that his brother hadn't always demanded more attention in some ways; his anxiety had meant he'd needed a lot of extra support, and Jon had been happy enough back then to let his own needs take a back seat most of the time. Of course, that was back when his life was actually pretty good, and he didn't have much to complain about.
Now it was his life that was imploding, while Jordan was succeeding… and yet somehow, the attention was still on his brother. Everyone just expected him to continue getting on with things quietly; expected him to be the good boy, the one that just took it all on the chin.
With a whole month to stew on it while his dad was missing, his resentment had grown and festered - and despite a couple of shaky attempts at reconciliation, he and his dad hadn't really found their way back to being on good terms.
Now he was terrified this lunatic was going to make sure they never got the chance to.
'We can't just let him die,' Mrs Cushing added to his mom and grandad's plea for reason.
'Every one of you in this diner is going to die if you don't start taking our demands seriously,' Sharon threatened, breaking out of her own silence, and holding up the detonator once again to emphasise her point.
'What you think General? Worth having another run at your boss' at the DOD now?' Johnny asked with a mocking tone.
'You have 1hr,' Kurt directed to his grandad with an air of finality, grabbing him by the arm and shoving him towards the door. 'Bring me the X-K and the alien prisoner, and your son-in-law might just have a chance to live.'
Jon felt torn between not wanting his grandad to leave but also hoping there was something more he could do out there than he could from in here. He watched anxiously as Kurt spun him around to face him one last time.
'And if you fail…' he said menacingly, 'the next time it'll be one of your grandchildren.'
With that, the man shoved his grandad the final few steps towards the door, and he reluctantly opened it. Jon watched him give his mom a firm 'stay put' look, before turning back towards him and his brother.
'Don't worry,' he called out to them, without half as much conviction as Jon was sure he intended, 'I'm going to figure this all out.'
Kurt finally shoved him through the open door, slamming it behind him and pulling down the blind. He turned back to the still motionless crowd like they were an unfortunate annoyance he had to put up with.
'There will be no more heroics,' Kurt instructed impatiently, 'No more plotting, no more planning. You will do exactly as you are told, without hesitation… or you will regret it. Is that understood?'
There were a few stiff nods around the room, but no one dared make a sound or sudden movement. That was until a women Jon recognised as Doctor Frye stepped forwards, moving out of the small crowd slowly and cautiously, holding both hands up over her head. She was very clearly trembling.
'Please… I… I'm a doctor,' she managed to blurt out. 'Will you let me take a look at him?'
The man glanced down at his dad with a look of disgust that made Jon's stomach turn, before shrugging like it made no difference to him anymore.
'Do whatever you want with him,' he said callously, reaching his hand into his pocket like he just wanted to confirm the handkerchief was still there.
With seemingly no further interest in his hostages or even the man he'd just stabbed, he headed to the back of the diner, sliding into a booth where he was hidden from sight. Sharon and Johnny looked at each other and shook their heads in annoyance as they watched him go without a word in their direction. Jon wondered how long the two of them were going to put up with his blatant disregard and what might happen when they'd had enough. They didn't exactly seem the type to just calmly talk things out.
Johnny nodded his head towards the diner windows, and they each took a post, peeking through the blinds to see if all the commotion had attracted any unwanted attention. Thankfully, Sharon chose a spot pretty far away from them. Jon wasn't sure if it was dumb luck, or if Sharon was actively avoiding hearing what they might have to say. Unlike her partners, she seemed to still have the faintest flicker of a conscience.
As soon as their captors stepped away, the rest of the diner seemed to unthaw. The doctor was the first to reach his dad's side, with Jon and Jordan only a few steps behind. She gave them and their mom a brave attempt at a reassuring expression before reaching her still shaking hands into her bag and pulling out some emergency medical supplies.
It wasn't long before everyone in the diner was crowded around them in a circle. Jon looked up, feeling kind of annoyed that everyone was just gawking, but he softened slightly when he saw the genuine concern on their faces. He recognised most of them. Their neighbour Cobb Branden. Chuck and Aidy who ran the butcher shop. Malcolm's dad, Mr Teague, from the hardware store. And was that Mitch, the fireman that Sarah's dad worked with?
'Is… is he gonna be okay?' Chuck asked, seemingly echoing everyone's thoughts as they watched the doctor expectantly.
Sarah crouched down next to his brother, placing her hand on his arm, but he didn't even look up. His eyes were fixed on his dad's pale face as he fumbled with the buttons of his mom's coat, still trying to hide the occasional wince of pain from the ever-present waves of kryptonite.
Jon anxiously realised what his brother might be about to do, but before he could process the thought, his dad began to stir to life, a weak groan escaping his lips.
'Clark!?' his mom said as softly as she could, trying to make sure the first sounds he heard weren't full of fear.
'Lois?' he spoke in practically a whisper, his eyes flickering open and gazing up at her in confusion.
Jon felt a wave of relief wash over him at the sound of his dad's voice, but it faded quickly as his dad's expression turned pained and he groaned loudly, as though suddenly hit by a whole host of unpleasant sensations happening in his body.
'Mr Kent, it's Doctor Frye,' the older woman announced, slipping on a pair of blue gloves.
At the sound of the word 'Doctor', his dad's head whipped around, and he looked suddenly panicked. His mom stroked his face gently, offering him words of comfort, and he squinted at the small-town doctor, eventually settling down somewhat once he'd accepted that she was someone safe.
'I'm just going to take a look at your wound,' she notified him as she set to work.
Doctor Frye pulled his mom's jumper away from his dad's wound, lifting his shirt to get a good look at the extent of the damage, before quickly pressing some kind of heavy-duty gauze down on top of it. Jon wished he had some understanding of how stab wounds were supposed to look. Was that a bad one, or not? Was it supposed to look like that or was his dad's body somehow giving away that he wasn't normal.
Thankfully the doctor didn't seem to react as though anything was amiss.
'Hold that there,' the doctor instructed his mom, before turning around, seemingly in search of someone or something specific.
Her eyes fell on the diner's namesake. 'Ah, Vicky, do you have a first aid kit in the kitchen? I think we are going to need all the bandages and gauze we can get here. And some towels, as many as you can find.'
Vicky gave the doctor a frightened nod before heading off to the kitchen, and Dr Frye turned back to her patient.
'Keep as much pressure on his wound as you can,' she told his mom, as she reached back into her bag to pull out a stethoscope.
She placed the bell on his dad's chest and listened intently. Jon didn't exactly feel encouraged by her expression as she pulled it away. She reached for his dad's hands, holding them as though checking their temperature and squeezing them gently to observe their colour.
'Clark?' she asked, and Jon realised that his dad's eyes had closed again. 'Can you look at me?'
'Ummm,' was all he managed at first, before slowly opening his eyes and trying to focus on where the sound had come from.
Jon watched the doctor eyeing his dad with concern as she held up a finger and asked him to follow it, moving it in front of his vision slowly. Once she was done, she took the stethoscope from around her neck and lay it back in her bag, before tugging the disposable gloves from her hands.
'I'm afraid he's lost a lot of blood,' she explained as his mom looked at her expectantly. 'His heart rate is extremely high, and I think he may be in hypovolemic shock. If he doesn't get fluids and blood soon…'
Vicky returned from the kitchen, interrupting the doctor's ominous statement, and handing her a green first aid kit and a pile of clean towels. Jon tried not to finish the doctor's sentence for her, but his mind seemed to have an agenda of its own. She lay some of the towels at his dad's side, soaking up the blood that had already pooled out. They were sodden in seconds, and she moved them out of the way, laying down a few more fresh ones.
'Mom,' Jordan said quietly, his voice suddenly sounding more pained than it had before.
Jon spun round and saw his brother reaching out with his mom's coat in his hands, now fully exposed to whatever effect the bomb was having on him.
'Jordan…' his mom hesitated, still stroking his dad's face softly.
Jon watched his brother with concern as he continued to hold the garment out with trembling arms, but he seemed to be handling the effects of the nearby kryptonite much better than before. Jordan gave their mom the kind of determined look that could only come from her very own flesh and blood, and she conceded to his silent point… his dad needed the protection more than he did right now.
'To keep him warm,' Jordan added, looking around at the curious onlookers self-consciously.
The doctor nodded her approval, and their mom took the coat from his brother's hands, laying it over their dad's body and positioning it so that she could still hold the gauze tightly in place. Jon thought he saw his dad's colour considerably lighten, but he couldn't be sure if it was just wishful thinking. When he heard his dad's small, almost imperceptible sigh of relief, he knew the coat had to be doing something.
'Just keep pressure on that wound,' Dr Fry instructed again. 'If your arm gets tired, swap out with someone else, and there are more gauze pads here when you need them. I'll keep monitoring him, but right now there's nothing more we can do… but wait.'
Lois nodded her understanding and gave the doctor a grateful smile, before returning her attention to their dad who was looking up at her with a bit more lucidity. Jon watched as the doctor stood up and gave the small crowd a suggestive wave.
'Shall we give Mr Kent some privacy?' she said, cocking her eyebrow at the sea of faces.
There were a few unintelligible murmurs in response as the small crowd gently dispersed. Jon watched as they sat back down in their booths, anxiety and exhaustion written all over their features. A few faces glanced up at the clock on the diner wall, eager for this to all be over soon.
'Sarah, shall we get Soph settled in over there?' Lana said, stroking her youngest daughter's hair and tipping her head towards a booth further down.
Sarah gave Jordan a long apologetic look, but she did as her mom asked, her sister gripping tightly at her side.
'I'll be right back,' Lana said, looking first at Lois and then to everyone else around them, as though wanting to reassure them that their mayor wasn't going to just hide away in a booth.
Jon felt a flash of anger as he watched her leave. Less than an hour ago, she'd been acting like his family was to be avoided at all costs. Why should that be any different now? If anything, there was even more reason for her to think she was better off staying away from them.
He couldn't help but feel like her concern was all for show.
'What do we do now?' Jon asked his mom, knowing it was probably a stupid question, but feeling frustrated with just watching helplessly.
'Nothing,' his mom responded firmly. 'Your grandad is going to figure something out. I don't want either of you doing anything stupid.'
Jon glanced at his brother, before nodding at her reluctantly. It wasn't like he had any idea of what to do anyway, and he was becoming more and more worried about what the well-groomed gunman might have up his sleeve. He'd obviously come there to try and get some kind of proof of who his dad was… but what would he do once he had it?
Was the plan just to tell the world who Superman really was? That he had a secret identity this whole time? That he has a family?
No, Jon could see in the man's eyes, it was something much darker than that. He wasn't just testing for proof that he was Superman. He was confirming that he was an alien.
Jon hated that word, but he knew when the man looked at him, that was exactly what he saw.
Despite having no powers, no response to kryptonite… literally no identifiable kryptonian traits, Jon knew he wasn't simply human. His dad's DNA was in the mix somewhere, and they had no idea what kind of tests would prove that. Or what it might mean on a scientific level, to be a basically human kid with some kryptonian DNA. He was sure that any scientist wanting to understand how alien/human hybrid biology worked would be just as interested in him as they would his brother.
Jon knew that there were people out there that thought Superman should be more forthcoming in providing samples for various kinds of research. His mom had written plenty of scathing articles about the kind of people that seemed to see him as a potential test subject.
Although his dad seemed to accept it as a part of the natural curiosity people were bound to have when he made himself known, Jon could see the fear the topic always brought up in his dad's eyes. Like being locked away in some secret laboratory was a nightmare he'd lived with all his life. A fear that now extended to his not so human sons.
Jon glanced anxiously over at the booth the well-dressed man had slid into, wondering how long it might be before that nightmare became their reality.