Jon Kent helplessly button-mashed the controller as he watched Superman get walloped on the screen before his very eyes. No matter what he did, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Story of his life. At least this was just a game.

"Dude, you suck," Jordan mocked. He sat in the beanbag chair beside Jon's, his fingers seemingly dancing over the buttons of his controller as he hit each combo. He finished Superman off with a final knockout and the victory screen played for Jordan.

Jon rolled his eyes and tossed the controller. They had tried three different games this evening and Jon had lost all three of them. What the hell was wrong with him? He had never been this bad at video games before.

"Hey, watch the merchandise." Jordan picked up the controller and dusted it off.

It had been Jordan who had suggested they play. Said he couldn't stand Jon's pacing anymore. Not that Jon didn't have a reason to worry. The school board was meeting with their parents right now to determine whether Jon would be let back into school. This was supposed to take his mind off of it. Not that anything could really do that.

What if the school board still said no? How would he ever fix things with Mom and Dad then?

"We could try Madden," Jordan suggested. "You always kick my ass at Madden."

"Yeah, no." He needed a distraction, not a reminder of how badly he had screwed up his life. And anything that related to football was just a reminder of that.

Jon grabbed the controller back from Jordan. "Let's just do another match."

They set up another round, same characters as before, and just like before, Jordan was kicking his ass. But then Jon started getting a couple of hits in and was even able to knock Jordan off the fighting platform.

"Hey, you see that?" Jon smacked Jordan's arm. But when he looked over, Jordan wasn't looking at the screen. Instead, he was staring toward the bedroom window, his head slightly cocked like a dog listening to something out in the distance.

"They're home."

Jon's heart pounded. A part of him wanted to immediately run downstairs to find out what happened, but another part wanted to stay in here and hide under Jordan's bed.

Jordan gave him a forced smile and put his hand on Jon's back. "Come on. We'll face this together. Fraternals."

His throat was too dry to protest. Plus, how could he when his brother looked so assured and was using that dorky team name from when he still thought Jon also had superpowers? Jon put the controller down and followed Jordan down the stairs.

They waited out in the hallway, but no one came inside. Jon snuck a peek outside. Dad's truck was parked, but Mom and Dad were still inside it. Talking, by the looks of it. Very intensely.

"Crap."

"What?" Jordan tried to look past Jon, getting up on his tiptoes before floating ever so slightly above Jon's head. He didn't stay up long, though, as Jon pulled him back to the ground.

"What are they saying?"

Jordan frowned. "You're not asking me to use my super hearing on them?"

"They're talking about me."

Jordan's eyes shifted between Jon and the hall window. "I know but…remember when we caught Dad spying on us with his super hearing? Or how you felt when I spied on you and Sarah talking? It just doesn't feel right."

"It's not the same."

"They'll be in in a minute. Just be patient."

As his eyes narrowed, Jon turned away, and he returned to staring out the window. All the superpowered people got to misuse their powers until they got called out on it, but normies like him couldn't even get one freebie? How was that fair?

Finally, Mom and Dad exited the truck and headed for the house.

"Living room," Jon said, and pushed his brother toward it. Even though he was the one advocating for spying, he didn't want his parents to know they had been waiting by the door for them like nervous puppies. He picked up a magazine off the coffee table and tried to look natural on the couch. Jordan followed his lead by sitting next to him.

A few moments later Mom and Dad entered. "Boys!" Mom called up the stairs.

"In here." Jon casually tossed the prop magazine aside as their parents turned around and spotted them in the living room.

"Hey." Mom had a fake smile that didn't meet her eyes. Instead, her brows were drawn together in worry. Dad had the same expression.

So bad news it was. He shouldn't have been surprised, considering how long they took in the truck.

Jon sighed. "Guess I better get used to online schooling, huh?"

That's what he had been doing for the past month, ever since he got kicked out of school. It wasn't so bad; it was just lonely. Boring. Tedious. He knew his parents wanted more for him. They wanted a return to normal. A real education. Real high school experiences.

They wanted him to have a chance to be seen as something other than the town screw-up. It was a little late for that, though. No one in this town was ever going to forgive him. No one was ever going to give him a second chance.

"They didn't say that," Jordan said. He could be so naive sometimes. "That's not what you're about to say, right?"

"Actually," Mom said, "it's not."

Jon's head shot up. What? They were letting him back in? Then why did his parents look so concerned?

"Jordan, can we talk to your brother alone?" Dad asked.

Jordan shot Jon a look, almost like he could read Jon's mind. Like he knew the last thing Jon wanted was to be alone. Jon and Jordan had never been the twin-telepathy, finish-each-other's-sentences kind of twins, but they had always known when they needed each other. And right now, Jon really needed his brother.

Things may have started improving with his parents since Dad had returned from the Bizarro World, and Jon and his girlfriend had come clean about her drug suppliers, but they were hardly back to normal. Just because Dad could look him in the eye now didn't erase the pain and disappointment Jon had caused.

Jon had still taken a dangerous, experimental drug. He had still got caught red-handed trying to hide Candice's drug stash, and got kicked out of school, and off the football team. He had still lost his family's trust.

"Can he stay?" Jon asked.

Mom and Dad shared a look. Unlike Jon and Jordan, the dynamic-reporting-duo Lois and Clark could silently communicate. It was one of their most annoying parenting tactics.

"If that's what you want, sweetie," Mom said. She sat beside Jon while Dad sat in the armchair next to Jordan's side of the couch.

"We met with the school board," Dad explained, "and they've agreed to allow you to come back."

"Alright!" Jordan raised his hand for a high five that Jon left hanging. Slowly, Jordan lowered it. "Am I missing something?"

"What's the catch?" Jon asked.

"There's stipulations," Mom admitted. "Drug testing, for one. The DOD has devised a test for X-Kryptonite. Nothing invasive; it's like a breathalyzer. Since Smallville is at the epicenter for the drug, the school was given testers."

"So, they'll, like, test me before I go back or—"

"Periodically. Randomly. Expect a lot of calls down to the main office."

Jordan elbowed him. "Timmy Ryan's been getting called down to the main office, like, three times a week," he whispered.

Three times a week sounded a lot more often than periodically. Jon sighed. This is what he got for trying to level the playing field with a cheater.

Timmy had taken X-K first. He had used it to steal the coveted QB starter spot right from underneath Jon. He had started all of this.

Except no one had forced an X-K inhaler into Jon's hands. It was his choice. One he made because he couldn't stand to be second best, but still his choice. Now he was living with the consequences of that choice. He just hated how he had taken brunt of the blame.

Timmy got caught with X-K too, but only with a couple of inhalers. He hadn't been caught trying to hide a drug dealer's entire stash. He hadn't been blamed by the town for all the consequences that had followed the discovery of the drug among the football team. A couple of weekly drug tests were nothing compared to the hell Jon had been living these past few weeks.

"They'll also do random checks of your bag and locker," Dad added.

The smallest groan escaped Jon's lips.

Things weren't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be the good kid. The star athlete. The role model. He wasn't supposed to get caught with drugs and ruin his life. He knew better than to do drugs, even if they gave you Superman's powers, never mind getting caught with an entire stash of them.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Dad asked.

"No, sir."

No matter how awful the drug testing and searches would be, he knew better than to argue. Besides, he had nothing to hide. Not anymore.

"I swear, I haven't taken X-K since the night Jordan caught me. And it's all gone. Candice isn't dealing anymore. She's out."

"Isn't this an invasion of his privacy?" Jordan asked.

"You lose some of your rights when you break the law," Mom said. "This is one of them."

"What else?" Jon asked, trying to move the conversation forward. "You said stipulations. With an 'S'."

"You know those yearly community service hours you need as a graduation requirement?" Dad said. "They're doubled."

Jon sighed. Between football and then his expulsion, he was already behind on those hours as it was. Now with his job at Brit & Dunn's Quick Mart, he didn't know how he was going to make up the hours in time. Not that he was going to point that out right now.

"Sure. I can do that."

"Does Timmy Ryan have to do extra community service hours?" Jordan asked. "Or anyone else on the team?"

"I don't know," Mom said. "Their parents weren't at the meeting. Does it matter?"

"Come on, everyone knows that pretty much the entire football team was on X-K. It wasn't just Jon."

"Jordan…" Jon started. He had wanted his brother here for support, not to start an argument. As far as Jon was concerned, he was still getting off easy. It might be hard and degrading, but he could push down his pride for the sake of resuming to normalcy. Or as close to it as he could get.

Never again would he hear a crowd cheer for him as he threw a football. That part of his life was definitely over.

"The rest of the team didn't get caught holding enough X-K to fuel an army," Mom said. "Jon's lucky they're letting him come back at all."

"I said I'd do it!" Jon hadn't meant to yell the words; he just couldn't handle a fight about this. He had caused enough heartache already.

They all looked at him, and suddenly everyone's faces softened.

"Sorry, Jon," Jordan mumbled.

Mom reached over and squeezed Jon's hand. He squeezed it back. At least this was progress. He couldn't imagine her trying to comfort him a month ago.

"There's more," Dad said.

"Still?" Jon's voice squeaked. They had to be coming to an end of these stipulations soon, right?

"This isn't necessarily a bad thing," Mom said. "Maybe it could be good. It helped Jordan when he went through it."

"Circumstances are different now, though," Dad said.

"What are you talking about? What's going on?"

Another shared look between his parents. Why did they keep doing that? His heart felt like it was about to break out of his chest. Why were they prolonging his anticipation like this?

"They want you to go to therapy." Mom finally said.

Jordan leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "That's all? You had me worried."

Jon's heart still thumped. Therapy? He didn't need therapy. That was for people with real problems. People like Jordan with his anxiety, or Sarah with her depression. Not Jon. He wasn't like that.

"I don't want to go."

"That's not really an option, sweetheart," Mom said. "This is what they're requiring."

Jon thought about sitting on some stranger's couch as they pried into all his decisions and mistakes. Why did he take the X-K? Why did he try to hide Candice's stash and take the blame for her? Why did he lie to his family?

"Then I guess I'll keep doing the online thing."

"No. No, no, no." Dad shook his head. "You don't get a choice in this, Jon. You're not staying out of school. We might not have been able to force you to give up Candice when it would have mattered, but I can drag your butt down to a therapist's office once a week if I have to. You're doing this."

He looked over at his Mom, but she had an even sterner look on her face.

"Jon, it's not a big deal," Jordan said. "I used to be in therapy and it was really helpful."

Of course they would all gang up on him. Not even his own twin was taking his side. So much for his support.

"What am I supposed to do if something about Dad comes up? I mean, Jordan hasn't even been to his own therapist since we found out about Dad," Jon pointed out.

"That's not because they're scared I'll talk about Dad or my powers. My anxiety is just more under control now." Jordan looked back and forth between their parents, who each wore furrowed brows on their faces now. "Isn't it?"

There was a long pause before their parents answered, and beside him Jon could hear quick, shallow breaths from Jordan. Clearly he wasn't as cured as he thought. Jon reached over and squeezed Jordan's shoulder.

"I thought it was," Mom finally said. "I mean, you joined the football team, got your first girlfriend. You had more friends here than you ever had in Metropolis. You were adjusting. I guess…therapy kind of just got pushed aside. It wasn't an immediate concern anymore."

Jon frowned and leaned back against the couch. He remembered when it was him who they weren't concerned about. Who they were proud of. Who had a list of accomplishments. Now he was the problem child who needed therapy for drugs.

"If you want to go back to therapy, though, we can talk about it." Mom looked back at Jon. "It's not a choice for you, though. You're doing it, end of discussion."

"Your mom and I had the same concerns as you, Jon," Dad said, circling back to Jon's original point. "We talked about it in the truck and we think we can set you up with one of the therapists who works with the DOD."

"The DOD has therapists?" Jordan asked.

"Soldiers can have psychological problems too, sweetie," Mom said.

"You'd be able to be a little more open with a DOD therapist," Dad said. "They'd know you're Sam Lane's grandson. Know how close your mom is with Superman. Would make for a cover as to why you've been so close to so much…"

"Alien shit?" Jordan offered.

"Language," Dad warned before continuing. "You still won't be able to go into specifics, Jon. Can't say who I really am, or what your brother can do, but you can be a little more honest. And honesty's important in therapy."

Jon wanted to scream. He wanted to throw something. He wanted to run away and out of this horrible conversation. But if he did any of that, it would just prove their belief that there was something wrong with him.

"What's the point?" he snapped. "It's not like I'd be doing therapy for real."

There was another long pause. This time it was Jordan who spoke up. "Jon. Maybe you should take this as a chance to try it for real. Like I said, therapy really helped me."

"I'm not the mentally ill one." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he even realized he said them.

Jordan looked like he had been punched. His bottom lip trembled, and his eyes watered. Without another word, he stood, and bolted for the stairs.

"Jordan, wait!" But it was too late.

Mom glared at him. "That was not okay."

"I know."

"You need to apologize to him."

"I will."

"He was only trying to help," Dad added.

"I know."

"You asked him to be here."

Jon leaned forward and put his head in his hands. "I didn't know you were going to be talking about frigging therapy."

"I already warned you about swearing," Dad said.

Jon rolled his eyes. It was Jordan he warned, and frigging was hardly a swear. It was certainly no worse than what Jordan had said.

"He wasn't supposed to take your side," Jon said.

"Our side?" Mom said. "Sweetheart, there are no sides." She reached for his hand again but he pulled away.

He launched himself off the couch, away from both of them and any more comforting touches they might attempt. He didn't want to be comforted. He just wanted his mind to be left alone.

"We only want what's best for you," Dad said. "Jordan does too."

"I really don't want to do this," Jon said.

"I know, bud. But this is just one of those things in life where you just have to suck it up and do it."

Jon pouted. There was no way he was getting out of this, was there? Well, they might be able to force him to go, but there was no way they could force him to take it seriously.

After his parents dismissed him, Jon went back upstairs and knocked on Jordan's door. Mom wasn't going to let them get through dinner without solving this, and Jon honestly felt horrible about the comment he let slip out.

He had always been Jordan's biggest supporter, the guy who used to fight off Jordan's middle school bullies. How could he sink so low as to act like one of them? Especially after all the support Jordan had given him this past month.

"Go away!"

"Jordan, I'm really sorry," he said through the door. "That was totally uncalled for. I asked for your support and I totally lashed out at you when I didn't like what you had to say. You know I don't think of you like that."

The door swung open to reveal a Jordan with red, puffy eyes. Damn, he really hurt Jordan with that stupid comment.

"I'd rather be mentally ill than have a drug problem," Jordan snapped.

Jon frowned. "I don't have a problem. You know I haven't touched that stuff in weeks."

"Still used it in the first place. So don't act like you're better than me."

"Trust me, I know I'm not better than you, Superboy."

Jordan was a legitimate hero, bound to follow in their father's footsteps one of these days. He had saved Jon's life more times than he could count.

"I know you're the golden child. And I'm the problem child. Just trying to get used to the new status quo."

Jordan squinted at him. Was he about to use his heat vision? Had Jon really angered Jordan that much? He retreated until his back was pressed against the stair's banister and braced himself.

"You're not a problem child," Jordan finally said. He said it in the same tone he used when they were bickering about something really stupid. Not anger, just annoyance.

Jon's shoulders relaxed and he pushed himself away from the stairs. "I got expelled from school for drugs. That's the definition of a problem child."

"So? I got arrested last year," Jordan reminded him.

Jon rolled his eyes. "That barely counts. That was for trespassing and they dropped the charges. Hardly the same league."

"I lied to Dad when my heat vision was coming in, just because I wanted to play in a football game, and I almost revealed the family secret when I couldn't hold back the blast."

"Yeah, well, we were facing Metropolis and you wanted to stand up to your old bullies."

"I broke your arm."

Jon frowned. That one was a little harder to excuse. But considering how his football career was now permanently over, Jordan breaking his arm last year never really mattered in the long run.

"Face it, Jon, we're both screw-ups. You've just been upping the ante a little more this year. Dial it back junior year and let me have a turn."

Jon forced a smirk, because it was easier than to argue more. Plus, he really just wanted his brother's forgiveness. "Yeah, sure. It's about time you took the heat off me… So you're not pissed at me?"

"No, I'm still pissed… But we're still The Fraternals, so at the end of the day I guess that means I'm here for you."

Still The Fraternals. Even though Jon didn't have powers, Jordan still insisted on pretending that they were that dumb superhero duo that would never be. The least Jon could do was humor him.

"Sounds fair." Jon shifted side to side, trying to figure out how to move past the awkwardness. "You up for a rematch in Super Smash Heroes?"

The smallest hint of a smile cracked on Jordan's lips. "Only if you'll up your gaming. That was real weak shit before."

"Shut up," Jon said, but he entered the bedroom with his own smile on his face, the first real one that he could remember having in weeks.

A/N: I would like to thank JellyfishWitch and Rosalind_in_Arden for beta reading this chapter for me.

Everyone else, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter, we'll see Jon's first therapy session.

Reviews are always appreciated! :D