Chapter 2: Crash

The life support system blared in my ears as I came to. Everything was shaking and I wondered if this was how my father felt when he plummeted to the Earth before bailing out of his doomed aircraft during World War II.

I looked at the read out on the console, forcing myself not to panic as I continued to breathe the oxygenated fluid I was in.

For a fraction of a second, I saw a digitized map of Europe. And then I crashed.

The fluid took the majority of the impact for me, though I'm pretty sure I had still blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing I knew was the door opening and the life support system disengaging.

A hiss of pressure echoed around me and a whoosh of fluid. And then I felt cool air against my skin as I brutally coughed up the fluid in my lungs and instinctively disconnected the fat cord from the back of my neck.

Taking in gulping breaths of air as I stumbled further away from the craft, I immediately turned to the warmth on my left: the sun.

It felt mind-numbingly wonderful. Like a drink from a perfect, ice cold glass of water on a hot day. I could feel power rippling into me, as if my cells were tangibly eating the sun's rays.

I basked in its welcoming embrace as I allowed myself to process my situation.

I was on Earth, away from Zeta-Rho. Away from the suffocating oppression of the High Council.

I was free.

Free with (eventually) all the abilities of Superman and the rough knowledge of what the future likely held. I didn't know which Superman universe I had been born into, and even if I had, there was no guarantee things would happen as I expected. Butterfly effect and all. Still, I had long since decided I would take advantage of what I could to live a second wonderful and productive life, especially since I already had a lifetime of hard earned lessons at my back.

I closed my eyes as I sank to my knees, still soaking up the sun's rays.

I could start a new family. I could be a better father than I had been the first time. Tears gathered in my eyes.

While I had been a good man by most people's standards, there were, of course, things I wish I had done differently the first time. My thoughts strayed to my children. I should have tried harder to spend more time with them. They had grown up so fast and I had missed so many opportunities to strengthen my relationship with them.

Thankfully, I did have good relationships with all of them at the time of my passing, but two had required some concentrated efforts of repair during their young adult years to get there.

I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes of silent tears.

I prayed they were doing well. I missed them and had worked hard to not think about them while I had been on Krypton, especially after my first year there, certain I would break down – and that would have been dangerous. But I wasn't on Krypton anymore.

My youngest grandson absolutely adored Superman. I had introduced him to George Reeves' Superman, the televised Superman from the 1950's, on his third birthday.

My daughter hadn't believed he would be interested because the show was in black and white and colored televisions were now prevalent, but my grandson had instantly loved it.

From then on, Superman was our thing, our shared interest. When the Superman movie with Christopher Reeve came out, I took him to see it. And, years later, he introduced me to the animated series and then to the televised live action series in the 90's. Later, we introduced Superman to his children. My great grandchildren.

What he would say if he saw me now. . . .

He would no doubt be listing out everything I should set out to do. He would be adamant that I use the powers for good and do my best to fully emulate everything it was to be Superman.

How many times had we talked about what we'd do if we had superpowers? How many late night discussions did we have on how Superman might have gone about things differently to do even more good secretly? How the Superman Foundation in some versions were underutilized or how it was important for him to hold back and allow humanity to step forward without pressure? After all, just as a nation cannot simply be handed freedom and be expected to keep it without internal effort, no people can truly step up to a challenge without first having personal ownership and honest self-motivation.

With a deep breath, I vowed to do my best to make this version of Earth – the Earth with two Kryptonian sons – one my grandson would praise.

I smiled through a choked sob.

"Jacob! Oh, my god!" a woman shouted from behind me.

I startled with a gasp.

"Margaret!" a man warned.

"It's a boy!" the woman, Margaret, declared.

I turned my head to gaze at them, surprised and unsure of what to do.

"Don't you move!" the man ordered, lifting a weapon I was quite familiar with: a double-barrel shotgun.

I immediately raised my hands but kept the rest of my body still, my back to them.

"P-please don' s'-s'oot," I managed, still on my knees.

Had the situation been different, I would have been embarrassed by my poor pronunciation and stutter – my tongue no longer accustomed to my true first language – but right then I was more afraid of what would happen if the man fired.

Would I die here, before I could try to do anything I hoped? Before I could truly enjoy this second life? Or would the bullet ricochet off and end up killing one of them?

"Jacob, he's just a boy," Margaret whispered urgently.

"Who are you? Where did you come from? Answer!" Jacob demanded.

"M-my name is Tal," I said, my mind scrambling as I realized how my presence and words might impact Superman's future. "Please, I'm from far away. I need help."

The man was silent for a long moment and I decided not to try to hide my trembling as I struggled to come up with a plan.

I had assumed I would land in a secluded place. My father had said the ship's navigation system would place me 'away from any pathetic humans and their primitive technology'.

Well, so much for that.

"Jacob, he's scared. He's alone," Margaret said, concerned. "Put the gun down."

I gave a muffled sniffle, hoping the woman would convince the man. Thankfully, she did. I heard him lower the gun a little.

"Turn around, slowly," he directed.

I did so, swallowing my pride when I failed to successfully blink back my tears.

"Why are you here?" Jacob asked, still pointing the gun at me, but he had it lowered and his voice wasn't as threatening. He was still firm though.

"To li'be," I answered softly, inwardly grimacing at my failed pronunciation.

I had scarcely whispered English to myself in the dead of night when I was certain no one and nothing would be able to hear. This was the first time I had actually spoken English at normal volume since my rebirth.

"To live?" Margaret asked gently, kindly.

I nodded and the couple glanced at the ship behind me.

"What is that?" Jacob asked.

"My, uh, spaces'ip," I admitted. It's not like anything else I said would have been believed.

"And where did you come from exactly?" the man questioned again.

The wording of the question struck me harder than I had expected and my mind instantly recalled my life from The Before.

My family home where I had been raised and where I later raised two of my five children, before moving to a city in Colorado. The schools and clubs where I volunteered and cultivated a lifetime of friendships, both before and after I had children. The engineering laboratory where I participated in dozens upon dozens of projects, solving a multitude of problems. My first wife's garden that I designed and built behind our second home, which she tended to and loved for a decade and a half before her premature passing. My oldest son's garage where I taught him and his children woodworking when I had lived with them for a time before I married again. My second wife's vineyard in which we took over her family business before handing it off to her oldest daughter when she was ready. The hospital I volunteered at, the Time one in which one of my children was born, three of my grandchildren and one great-grandchild.

So many places. All of them home. On Earth.

But not this Earth.

I broke down and covered my face as I cried. Bawled, really.

A moment later, I felt Margaret's arms come around me, comforting me. I instinctively relaxed, though I ended up crying even more, grateful for the human contact.

Only after my tears had been spent and I finally began to regain control, did I grow nervous.

What would they do? What should I do? What should I say?

"It's alright, child," she said tenderly after giving me a moment. "Tal, right?"

I nodded, pulling back and hastily wiping away my tears. If I had done that on Krypton, Zeta would have beat me to the edge of death – perhaps even beyond it.

"Alright. Well, why don't you come with us? Are you hungry?" she asked.

"Margaret–" Jacob began, clearly not approving.

"We're not leaving him out here, Jake. He's just a boy," Margaret argued.

He grudgingly nodded. "Okay, but what about that?" he asked, pointing to the ship.

"Uh, is this your land?" I tentatively asked.

"Yes," Jacob answered, though he didn't elaborate further.

"Could I . . . bury it here?" I asked. "It's better if. . . ." I hesitated.

Would these people help me? Were they like Martha and Jonathan Kent? Could I be that lucky?

"If what?" he prodded.

"If it's hidden," I admitted, deciding I had to chance it. "I can't let . . . bad people find it."

He looked at me for a long moment before nodding. "We'll come back here tomorrow with a shovel and you can bury it."

I heaved a sigh of relief, fine with the likelihood of doing all the digging on my own.

"Thank you," I said earnestly.

I then followed them to their house, the ship closing as I stepped away. They blinked back at it but didn't pry. As we walked, I learned they were sheepherders and that I had landed in Wales. They had been out hunting the wild dogs they suspected were targeting their lambs when they saw my craft crash on the other side of their property.

Half an hour later, we came upon their farm house. It could have been out of a fairytale, and I gazed up at it in wonder as we approached the little front gate.

"Like what you see?" Jacob asked, amused by my reaction.

"Yes, sir," I said.

They led me to the kitchen and I obediently sat down.

"Would you like to eat something?" Margaret asked as Jacob put away his gun, placing it high on the wall, out of my reach.

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

They gave me food and I ate all of it, barely keeping control of myself as my taste buds danced with joy. I had never tasted anything so wonderful in this life!

"When was the last time you ate, Tal?" Jacob asked, baffled.

I pursed my lips, nervous and, yes, scared. But I knew hiding things would make them suspicious and hurt my chances of getting to stay with them, so I answered.

"Uh, honestly? Probably four months. Maybe fi'be, fi'be–" I opened my hand to demonstrate 'five' before hurriedly continuing. "–I was in stasis," I explained quietly. Anxiously.

They blinked at that.

"How far did you travel?" Margaret asked.

"Twenty-se'ben light years." I glanced up at them from my empty plate.

I was really hoping they might become a version of Martha and Jonathan Kent to me. Though, because of my age, I knew adoption would not be easy.

"You're—?!" Jacob asked, straightening. "An alien?!"

"Jacob!" Margaret admonished.

I ducked my head. "I guess I am now," I admitted.

Jacob and Margaret exchanged looks, and I really wished I knew what they had been thinking.

"Are there any more of you coming?" he asked firmly, harsh once again.

My thoughts shot to Superman, Kal-El, Clark, my half-brother. Should I lie? But what if they sensed I was holding back?

"I hope my little brother makes it, but . . . I know no one else is coming," I said, clasping my hands together.

I was very confident no one else would be coming. Other than what I knew from The Before, I had been privy to the Council's plans and situation. They had no spare resources to do anything more than they had. And even if there had been, the vast majority of Kryptonians viewed the cerebral downloads as a means to live forever, thus, attempting to physically escape Krypton when one could put their memories in a crystal or, in this case, the Eradicator, why bother?

They did not view death the Time way humans did. And their concept of a soul was just as different.

"Do you want more to eat?" Margaret asked after a moment.

I was still hungry, but they had already given me a lot.

"I'm okay. Thank you," I said.

"Alright, but here's some more milk," she offered. "Stay here, okay?" she added before stepping away with Jacob to the other room.

I tried not to listen, but either they were talking louder than they thought or my hearing was already better than a human's (which I believe was the case). Either way, I heard every word.

"Jacob–" Margaret began, but Jacob cut her off.

"We can't keep him, Marge," he stated.

"We–we could adopt him," she proposed.

"How would we explain it? Just say we found him and the judge will magically give us custody?" Jacob argued, exasperated before his tone shifted. "Look, I get it, and really, I wouldn't mind taking the kid in. He seems respectful and honest, but we have to be realistic. He's not from here, we have no idea how different he really is, and what if the government finds out? What if anyone finds out? What if some of his kind actually follow him? It's. . . ." He trailed off, and I bit my lip, wondering what I'd do in his position.

What if some kid had fallen from the sky one day on my property? Some unknown being with an unknown past, unknown biology, unknown goals, unknown . . . everything.

"We have to help him, Jake. I just know he . . . we have to help him, somehow," Margaret argued. "Something is telling me that if we don't . . . we will regret it forever. And no, I don't think he'll hurt us if we don't, it's that . . . how will we look at ourselves in the mirror after this if we don't?"

Jacob took a deep breath and I could almost swear I heard him nod solemnly.

"Alright, here's what we'll do. Tomorrow, we'll bury the ship. He said that his ship has to remain a secret, and I agree. If that ship is discovered, this whole place will become a madhouse, not to mention what would happen if it became public knowledge!" he explained. "The world would go bonkers. Which is why, as much as I know you won't like this, he can't stay here. If we got involved in any investigation or custody thing, there's a chance investigators would find the ship and who knows what would happen then. He is better off being found by a police officer or someone else far away from here. So we will help him form a cover story so he can start a life somewhere. He looks human, so hopefully he's close enough. His emotions are certainly like ours. Anyway, he'll be placed into foster care and that should give him a chance. It was enough of a chance for my father."

I swallowed, knowing that Jacob was probably right. And, considering everything, the fact they were willing to help me at all was more than what most other people would do.

Most would already be on the phone with the police by now.

They continued talking a little longer before returning and I successfully behaved like I hadn't heard a word.

They then outlined their plan and I did the only thing I could do when they were done: I thanked them.

That night, I slept in their guest bedroom, knowing that the next day would be the beginning of my new 'human' life.

O o O

A/N: So here is the next part ^_^. Thoughts?