Sam stumbled out onto the empty street, glaring back at the diner door as it slammed behind him. He straightened himself up, pulling his jacket stiffly back into place as he looked around for any sign that his ejection from the diner had been subject to an audience.

Thankfully, the street outside remained eerily quiet as the last of the evening's light faded behind the lowest rooftops. Sam strode purposefully across the street, headed for the relative privacy of his jeep as he turned his thoughts towards the events of the last 10 minutes. A picture of Clark laying injured and bleeding out on the diner floor remained etched in the forefront of his mind, along with an accompanying repetition of the ominous words the well-dressed gunman had whispered into his ears.

'A hospital wouldn't know what to do with him.'

He had no idea how, but there was no denying that this man knew - or at least suspected - that his son-in-law was not just a simple, mild-mannered small-town farmer. Between the kryptonite bomb and the man's suggestive comments, it seemed likely he had somehow stumbled across their family's well-kept secret. That Clark Kent… was Superman.

And now, he had his blood….

As Sam reached for the door to his jeep a surge of anxiety clutched at his chest and his mind flashed back to the dark red pool of the stuff collecting beside his son-in-law's lifeless body. What the man knew didn't matter right now. Sure, if his secret got out, all of their lives as they knew it would be over… but Clark's literal life hung in the balance in there. That was the priority – getting his son-in-law out of there and away from the kryptonite in that bomb any way he could.

The rest they could figure out later, once Clark was on the mend. Sam just hoped he wasn't already too late.

He tried to focus on their options for a strategy here, but so much of what was going on still didn't make sense. What was their end game here anyway? If the plan had simply been to kill Clark, why would they continue with their demands? In fact, why stage this whole diner siege at all? Why not just attack him at the farm?

No, there was definitely something more going on here.

From the way Kurt regarded his partners, Sam felt fairly confident that they weren't working together by choice… which meant they were working for someone else. Someone with a much bigger agenda.

Sam slid into the driver's seat, reaching for his radio tentatively and gritting his teeth. The special ops team Hardcastle granted him would be there within minutes, and he knew he needed to greet them with a plan… but this wasn't like any other hostage situation he'd handled. He'd walked into that diner hoping for answers, but all he had now were bigger questions and a growing lump of dread in his stomach.

The world's greatest hero, the father of his grandkids, was bleeding out on that diner floor - and it seemed like the only way he could really help him was to somehow meet the terrorist's demands.

Demands he knew the DOD wouldn't agree to easily.

He glanced up at the clouds over the diner before tapping his earpiece, connecting him to the man who had hopefully been able to gain a bit more perspective from his satellite like position.

'John, you still there?'

'I'm here Sam,' the other man replied grimly.

He sounded just as strained as Sam felt.

'Meet me at my jeep. Without the war suit,' he told him simply.

'On my way… but Sam, I think we have another problem,' John revealed. 'Someone's been watching you.'

Sam heard his phone's message alert, and he lifted the screen up, watching the short video John had sent him. It showed his daughter's partner, Chrissy Beppo, taking pictures of the diner from a not-so-stealthy hiding place across the street.

'This can't be good Sam,' he added.

'Maybe… or maybe we can actually take advantage of this…' Sam countered, the beginnings of an idea forming in his mind.

He'd had disagreements with Miss Beppo before, and ordinarily, her presence would feel like just another spanner in the works… but this time, Sam wondered if that persistent demand for the public to know the truth could be just the leverage they needed.

'Sam, what do you want me to do,' John asked.

'Bring her in,' Sam confirmed.

This wasn't the kind of situation to play by the books after all. That was his family in there, and if he had to play dirty to get them out, then there was no doubt in his mind that he would.

Chrissy simply stood transfixed as she watched General Lane getting kicked out of the diner, continuing to take as many pictures as she could. She'd heard muffled screams from inside before the military man was practically thrown out by some guy she'd never seen before.

Something was definitely going on in there. Something bad.

She watched anxiously as he headed back towards his jeep, keeping herself out of sight as much as she could. Once he was inside the vehicle and she could be fairly sure there was nothing more for her to see for now, Chrissy began scrolling through the photos on her phone, zooming in on the face of the man who'd kicked the General out of the diner, and seeing if there was anything else she could make out through the cracks in the blinds.

She was so engrossed in checking her images, she almost didn't notice a strange whooshing sound followed by a louder metallic crunch. With a slight delay, she pulled herself back to reality, looking around for the source of the unexpected sounds.

To her surprise, she found she was suddenly no longer alone in the alley. A familiar face approached her – a man she recognized as Clark's friend from Metropolis that had been staying with the Kents at the farm. What was his name? John… something?

'Miss Beppo,' he said politely, but with a sense of urgency that she assumed meant he was involved in all of this somehow.

When his eyes fell purposefully on the phone in her hand, she knew she was in trouble.

'Uh… hi,' she said nervously, taking a step back and looking around the alley for the best route of possible escape. 'John, right? You, uh, just out for a walk? Nice evening for it, not too cold, is it? Anyway, I'm just going to go back inside, have lots of work to do and I shouldn't be smoking anyway, it's a bad habit, I…'

'Miss Beppo, I'm here with Sam,' the man interrupted her babbling softly. 'We know you've been watching the diner.'

Chrissy felt another surge of anxiety despite his reassuring expression. 'Okay, well, whatever is going on in that diner, you can't just silence me about it. People have a right to know if they are in danger.'

'Actually, we were going to ask for your help,' John said with a slightly wry smile.

Chrissy sighed as she relaxed her position, but she raised her eyebrows sceptically. 'My help? With what exactly?'

'Not here...' John said, looking nervously back out at the street. 'Can we talk in the Gazette?'

Surrendering to an invitation that didn't quite feel optional, Chrissy nodded her head towards her office's side door and let the surprisingly commanding man lead the way towards it.

'Yup, this is definitely not a regular Taco Tuesday, is it?' she mumbled to herself.

Kurt carefully unfolded the bloody handkerchief, setting it down on the table in front of him as though it was the most precious thing he'd ever possessed. Perhaps it even was. There weren't many who could say they'd seen Superman's blood with their own eyes, let alone studied it.

It looked ordinary enough. Kurt wasn't sure what he'd expected – some small difference in colour maybe? A slightly different texture? He just hadn't thought it would look so… human.

The concerned voices of the diner's clueless occupants caught his attention briefly, and he glanced in their direction. They had surrounded the alien and his family, looking down at them with seemingly genuine concern.

Kurt wondered how eager they'd be to rush to his side once they found out the truth. That the man they'd grown up with, that they thought was just another simple small-town hick like them – was actually an alien being with God like powers. That he'd been hiding in their midst his whole life, lying to them, pretending to be just like them.

He looked down at the blood once again, marvelling at just how similar the kryptonian race was to the human-race in so many ways. It was baffling really. How a race that evolved on a planet thousands of lightyears away would produce beings so strikingly similar to those that evolved here on earth. And yet, despite outside appearances, he knew that beneath the surface, there had to be fundamental differences.

How else could it be that a man could fly?

Although he was fascinated to see how the alien's blood appeared under a microscope, his curiosity would have to wait for now. His current task was much more straightforward. He reached down to his belt and retrieved the other device his boss had provided him for this mission. His boss had programmed it to simply compare the blood to the recorded analysis he'd managed to obtain from Star Labs old confidential files.

He placed the handkerchief inside the device and started up its simple programme, watching with eager anticipation as its screen loaded and a rectangular progress bar appeared. In just a few seconds, he would be able to confirm with 100% certainty that his Boss' intel was correct.

Though personally, he didn't need a device to confirm the truth he could see so clearly with his own eyes.

Kurt smiled at the memory of the alien's face as he stuck his blade into his vulnerable flesh. Even with the presence of the kryptonite bomb, he'd clearly been surprised when the blade pierced his usually impenetrable skin. Like he wasn't expecting to be suddenly faced with his own mortality. He had to admit, bringing the man of steel to his knees had been quite the rush.

Now more than ever, he was looking forward to stage three.

Natalie couldn't take this much longer. Hiding back here, just having to listen to the sounds of distress coming from the diner – it was driving her crazy. Her friends… no, her family… were out there, and from the screams she'd heard, that gunmen was clearly hurting them.

Her dad was adamant that she stay put, reassuring her in his messages that he and General Lane were working everything out from out there. But she'd lived through enough tragedy to know how empty those kinds of promises could be.

Sometimes people couldn't just work everything out. Sometimes, they failed.

'Natalie, I'm detecting a new piece of technology in the diner,' Hetty alerted her to a new development.

Natalie pulled away from her darkening thoughts and reminded herself to focus on the things she could do. Things that might actually help.

'What is it doing Hetty?'

'It seems to be analysing a blood sample,' Hetty stated objectively.

Natalie's eyes grew wide, her mind immediately putting the pieces together even though she desperately hoped it wasn't true. Was it Clark's blood? Or could it be Jon's? Jordan's?

Whoever's blood it was, they needed to stop that device from working. Fast.

'Hetty, can you shut it down?' she said quickly, knowing there were likely only seconds until it would be too late.

'One moment,' the AI said cheerfully.

She made a mental note to change the AIs tone of voice… it was so irritating in situations like this. Natalie bit her lip as she stared impatiently at the device that had been with her throughout her multi-dimensional travels.

'I've been able to connect to the device,' it declared, and Natalie let out a huge breath.

'Shut it down! Now!' she ordered in a panicked whisper, praying it wasn't too late.

Lois stroked her hand over her husband's sweat-soaked brow, trying to soothe him as he continued to flinch in pain, despite having fallen into unconsciousness once again. His colour had definitely improved since they'd gotten him under her coat, but the blood loss combined with the continued exposure, even at lower levels, was making it impossible for his usual super-healing to kick in as effectively as usual.

She looked up at her boy's anxious faces, desperately searching for the right thing to say to soothe them too… but the fear clutching at her own chest was making it difficult to maintain her usual stance of defiant hope.

Ever since Sharon and those gunmen had stepped into that diner, she'd been searching for a way out of this mess, trying to figure out what actions they needed to take to bring these wackos down – but it seemed like the more they did, the worse things got. Sure, it was usually her husband who was the invulnerable one – but she wasn't exactly used to feeling this powerless.

'It's going to be okay,' she said, her voice low enough that only they could hear. 'You know your father has been through worse than this, and he always makes it through.'

The boys nodded weakly, but from the way they kept glancing towards the booth where the well-dressed gunman, Kurt, had hidden himself, she could tell there was something they weren't telling her about him.

She'd noticed some strange behaviour from him herself. The man had way too keen an eye on Clark from the beginning, looking at him like he was aware of something the others werent. Then when she'd watched the strangely careful way that he'd wiped her husband's blood from that blade…

Lois struggled to contain her feelings of disgust at the man's vicious attack on her husband, and the satisfied way he'd looked at his body on the ground. Like he was something disgusting he'd just squashed under his boot.

'Boys, what it is?' she asked softly.

'Mom, there's some stuff you don't know,' Jon said nervously, looking around to make sure no one was within listening distance. 'We think the guy who stabbed dad knows about his… other job.'

Lois felt the familiar wave of dread she always did when their family's secret was on the line. Her expression drew serious, and she leaned in closer as she said, 'Tell me everything you know.'

The boys looked at each other again. She could see Jordan silently clenching his jaw against his own waves of pain, trying his best to hide it from them and struggled to push aside her growing worry for both of their safety as well.

'When Sharon took you to the bathroom, dad told us he'd heard some sort of alarm. It detected use of kryptonian powers. The alarm went off after dad used his heat vision to take out the guns,' Jon explained. 'Dad said the guy looked right at him as soon as the alarm went off.'

'Okay, but there's still a chance he doesn't know for sure it was your dad, right?

'I… I dunno,' Jordan said with a strained look on his face. 'He whispered something to grandad before he left. He said… a hospital wouldn't know what to do with him... Besides, you should see the way he keeps staring at us…'

Lois felt a wave of protective anger wash over her as she noticed her son's obvious anxiety.

'Hey,' she grabbed their attention back to her, holding their gaze firmly. 'Whatever he knows, there is no way in hell I am letting him touch either of you.'

Despite the passion of her assurance, they didn't look too convinced. Looking back down at her husbands pained faced, she couldn't exactly blame them. Right now, these gunman with their kryptonite bomb had the upper hand – and even the one card they'd thought they still had up their sleeve, was apparently out on display.

The hostage situation, the continued demands… was it all just a cover? With everything the boys had just told her, it sounded like this entire situation was actually much more about hurting her family than it seemed.

Any hope they had of flying under the radar was becoming less and less likely by the minute.

Thanks for reading and commenting :)