A/n: Okay, so I'm like so many weeks behind updating. I was participating in the "Superman and Lois Anonymous 'Weapon' Challenge" and wrote seven new fics last months (six of them are on AO3, and I'm still working on a seventh), so this fic kind of got pushed to the wayside. Sorry :/ But the good news is, you got some fics to look forward to (or you could just find them AO3 now—I recommend His Daughter's Brother, which is a Jon & John Henry fic and I totally consider to be canon to the Rise of Disgrace universe. Great primer for this chapter, actually, which has some good John Henry content. 3)

I should also let you know now that, unfortunately, chapter 7 might wind up being posted late as well, as I am currently dealing with multiple family deaths at the moment (literally am only posting tonight because I was able to get this out to my beta before this happened).

Some people thought of Superman as a God. But those people hadn't heard the tale of Jonathan Kent: the boy who could not be killed. Try as they might, nothing could kill him. Not gunfire. Not mind-control "Subjekts" jacked up on X-K. Not even a freaking cave-in.

He was invincible.

Jordan asked him if he was okay, but Jon was more than okay. He couldn't die. And he would never die because any time he came close, some miracle happened. He could totally pull a Mom right now and fall off the top of the Daily Planet and he'd be fine because Dad, or Jordan, or whoever would be there to rescue him. Hell, Jordan couldn't even fly, but with the way things were going, his brother would figure it out just in time.

Jon was just that lucky.

A few hours after the near-miss at the mines, Jon and his siblings were back at Nat's place. Any effects from adrenaline had worn off, as had any effects from that X-K (if that's really what it was), but they sat around Nat's living room, laughing, and recounting the details again and again. And again. And again.

They couldn't stop talking about it.

It wouldn't stop playing in Jon's mind.

"—oh my God, I can't believe how fast we went—"

"—I think I still have rocks in my hair—"

"—when the cavern shook—I totally thought we were dead—"

Jon listened, and laughed, and added in how he totally knew they were gonna be fine the whole time.

"When that boulder was gonna fall on your head?" Jordan reminisced. "All right, I swear, I almost let it hit you."

Jon joined in with giggles.

It was funny. It was! This hadn't been scary. He wasn't going to have nightmares this time. It was just a funny thing that had happened. A funny anecdote he'd tell at parties one day. It wasn't anything to get all freaked out about.

The laughter ended when John Henry arrived home. Each of the siblings clammed up, and Jon felt himself sitting up a little straighter. Sure, Jon was never the kind of kid who got in trouble at his friends' houses (that was always Jimmy Cutter), but he also was never known as the kid who sold drugs before.

John Henry asked them what they were doing, his face stern. Annoyed. He entered into the tiny kitchenette that was tucked away on the other side of the living room and placed down a bag of groceries.

"You know, just a little family bonding," Nat said.

Jon waited for John Henry to tell them that they weren't family–to remind Nat that this world's Lois wasn't her mother, and Jon and Jordan weren't her brothers. But instead, he smiled and told them that he liked seeing that.

He asked them how school went, and they lied to his face. Jordan giggled and Nat looked amused, but Jon just felt sick to his stomach with another lie.

If John Henry or their parents found out the truth, they'd be more than pissed. Jon and his siblings had to keep the adults from overreacting and flipping their shit like they always did. But it still didn't feel right. It felt just as bad as hiding his little drug habit.

Was that what he was now? A junkie liar? He pushed the thought away. Those kinds of thoughts were just Dr. Wiles and her ilk infecting his brain. Today was a good day. He wasn't going to let bad thoughts ruin it.

John Henry joined in with the laughter, like nothing was amiss. His Lois Lane clearly hadn't married him for his intuition. "Well, your dad and I had a very productive day."

Jon's ears perked up. "What happened?"

"Did you seal the portal?" Nat asked.

"We may not need to anymore," John Henry said with a cocky smile. "The pendant's been destroyed."

A new flood of adrenaline rushed through Jon's veins. The pendant was destroyed. Jon-El couldn't hurt him. He was safe.

They started talking about what this meant; they weren't out of the woods yet. Ally Allston, the leader of Jon-El's cult, had already used the pendant on herself. She had succeeded where Jon-El hadn't. The two versions of her had become one, and with it, great power that they still didn't know the limitations of.

The Ally Allston of this Earth hadn't exactly been well-regarded. The so-called "self-help guru" was basically a joke that started her own cult—and the takedown Mom wrote about her a few years back certainly hadn't helped her rep either. But the Ally on the Bizarro World? Now she had rizz. Her cult wasn't just a bunch of unemployed sad-sacks looking for answers in a meaningless existence. She had followers across the world—and with Jon-El's help, she had stolen control of world governments too.

Now that the two Allys were one and the same, the threat she—they—whatever—posed to this world was not to be understated.

But that was tomorrow's problem. Today, the pendant was destroyed and Jon-El wouldn't be able to turn Jon into the same kind of monster that Ally had turned herself into. Today was a day to celebrate.

"You boys want to stay for dinner?" John Henry asked.

Jordan's eyes cast over at Jon—he always left even the simplest social interactions in Jon's hands. There was no reason to say no, though, and even if John Henry didn't like him that much, anything had to be better than going home and having a repeat of this morning's family meal.

"Sure," Jon said.

"Text your folks, then you can help us make it."

Nat rolled her eyes at her father. "Saw that coming."

"You got it?" Jon asked Jordan. A simple text to Mom or Dad should have been easy, but the thought of opening the lines of communication between him and either parent right now just turned his stomach. Jordan gave him a nod so Jon followed the Irons into the kitchen area.

Helping in the kitchen wasn't as bad as Nat made it out to be. Jon and Jordan had never really learned much about cooking from their own parents; Dad was always too busy and Mom was kind of useless in a kitchen. She could bake, but that was about it. Anything that required more skill than measuring out precise measurements, and she was at a loss. But John Henry made it look like an art. He had made his warsuit and weapons tech look the same, back when he was living on the farm and still tolerated Jon tinkering around in his shop.

After some vegetables were chopped and noodles were cooked, John Henry showed the boys how to throw them all together into a simple stir fry, talking them through each step.

By the time dinner was on the table, Jon realized that John Henry—a man who didn't even like Jon that much—had said more words to him than his own father had all week; at least more words that weren't just criticisms.

The Irons didn't have a dining room, or accompanying table, so Jon helped Nat clear the prep station at the kitchen island, and then set their plates. The four of them seated at the island was a tight squeeze, but they managed to make it work, though Nat and Jordan did bump elbows a few times.

They started to dig in, and for the first time in over a month, things actually felt normal. There was no air of Jon's X-K use or expulsion hanging over anyone's head. No one mentioned Jon-El or the cult again. They just talked, like old friends.

"Hey, this tofu's not bad," Jordan said.

Nat giggled. "That's because my dad put chicken in yours. You didn't notice?"

John Henry shrugged. "Just because she tries to convert me doesn't mean you guys have to suffer too."

"Hey!"

Jon eyed the off-white, cubed shaped thing on Nat's plate, his curiosity suddenly piqued. "I'll give it a try." He shoved it into his mouth and chewed, but the back of his throat immediately felt like it was closing, refusing to let that slimy, jiggly mass in any further. It took all his willpower not to gag and spit it up right there on the table.

"Come on, it's not that bad," Nat protested.

He couldn't take it anymore. He took a napkin to his mouth and spit it out. "It tastes like a wet sponge."

Jordan giggled. Jon kicked him from underneath the island.

"It's an acquired taste," John Henry said. "One you learn to acquire when you don't want to be lectured by your fifteen-year-old daughter at every meal."

"Look, all I have to say is there are a lot of benefits to a vegan lifestyle," Nat defended. "The animals, obviously, but also the environmental effects. And the health effects."

"Yeah, like what?" The fork in Jordan's left hand was now aimed toward Nat's plate too. The damn fool had more food-based sensory issues than Jon thought was humanly possible, but he never could resist following his brother's lead.

"Well, it's a great source of protein if you want to bulk up."

"No point in that anymore," Jon muttered.

The smiles fell off all their faces. So much for not talking about Jon's screw ups.

There was a long, awkward pause. Oh God, this was just as horrible as breakfast. Was this just his life now? Anywhere he went, he was going to destroy the mood whenever he spoke?

"Jon, you know there are other athletic pursuits than football," John Henry finally said.

Jon tapped his fork against his plate. "Sure, sure... can, uh, can I be excused. Not really hungry. Guess the tofu filled me up."

"You barely had a bite—" Nat started to say, but she was cut off by her father.

"Sure Jon. If you want, you can check out the workshops. I have some new designs you might be interested in."

His rumbling stomach begged him to stop, but Jon power-walked into the garage anyway, ignoring the aches that had come back with a vengeance ever since his adrenaline had worn off.

John Henry's kinetic hammer was lying on a workbench. Was John Henry doing an upgrade? It was hard to imagine that hammer being any more badass than it already was.

As he ran his hand over it, Jon remembered pretty much the only time he had ever been useful to his family. That was back when John Henry was still convinced Dad was evil. He had used red solar lights to incapacitate Dad. Jordan hadn't been able to move either. It was only because of Jon's stupid lack of powers that he was able to lift this damn hammer and take out the lights, restoring Dad's powers.

His one moment of triumph. And it was all because he was the useless, human one.

It had all been downhill since then. Hell, it was downhill before that. Ever since they moved to this damn town. Ever since they discovered Jordan was special and Jon got left behind in the dust.

Jon wasn't invincible, he realized. He was the fucking damsel.

The doorbell rang, and Jon returned to the house just in time to see his mom enter.

"Car. Now." The clipped sentences couldn't be a good sign. What the hell had he done this time?

"Lois, what's wrong?" John Henry asked. Jordan and Nat were still seated at the island, but Jordan hyperventilated upon seeing Mom's face.

"These two geniuses didn't show up to school today. They decided to ditch—again—on Jon's first day back."

His stomach dropped. She knew. She freaking knew. They were so dead.

John Henry pulled out his cell phone then looked at his own daughter. "Nat-Bug... is this missed voicemail on my phone gonna be from the school too? Did you ditch school today with them?"

With them? The whole thing had been her idea—not that Jon was about to rat. Even if she wasn't one of the few people in his life who still liked him, he wasn't a snitch.

Besides, keeping that secret was easy. There was a difference between lying and choosing to stay silent.

"You don't know what those jerks have been like!" Nat said, her voice an octave higher than usual.

Other than when John Henry had gotten hurt a couple months back, Jon didn't think he had ever seen her lose her cool before. But now as she stood there, with her wide, panicked eyes ping-ponging between her father and the woman who looked identical to her dead mother, it was obvious she was not holding it together anymore.

"I mean, it's been a month and they're still complaining about the stupid football season being canceled. Harassing Jordan. Candice. Me. Just for being associated with him."

Jon's knees went weak. He had no idea that Jordan, and Candice, and Nat were getting blowback too.

He wasn't even the damsel in distress. He was a menace. An emotional milestone tied around the necks of all his loved ones.

"Then today, a couple of guys—guys who used to be Jon's friends—were harassing him in the hallway and I knew it was gonna be twice as bad for him. And with everything that had happened with Jon-El... hasn't he dealt with enough?"

"Nat, that's not your decision to make," John Henry said. "Lois and Clark have fought hard enough to get the school to let Jon back in. You can't go around undermining that."

Mom's angry brows had shifted into worried ones. "Jon?"

She wasn't yelling. Why wasn't she yelling? She was supposed to yell. That's what she did when she found out about the X-K. What Dad did too. They hadn't given him the chance to explain then, so why now? What was different now?

"Jonathan?!"

That was more like it. That was the Mom he knew. The Mom who didn't trust him. Because he couldn't be trusted. Not anymore. He didn't deserve it.

"Mom, Jon was on the verge of a total meltdown at school," Jordan added. "Talking about how nothing matters and how the world as we know it was about to end."

He hadn't had a meltdown. Jordan was the one who had meltdowns, not him. But Jon kept silent. What was the point of defending himself? No one listened.

"Jonathan." Mom reached over and lifted his chin, forcing him to look at her.

"I'm fine," he told her, praying his face didn't give him away. He didn't think it did. He wasn't on the verge of tears or anything. Any adrenaline from today, from surviving yet another guaranteed death, from learning that his archenemy couldn't hurt him again, had worn off. Now he just felt tired—too tired to deal with this bullshit anymore. Too tired of defending himself. Too tired of causing issues and everyone hating him. He just wanted to be dealt his punishment and for everything to be over.

Mom released his face from her grasp, and Jon went back to looking at anywhere but her. His mud-covered sneakers—Jordans that he had spent his first Britt & Dunn paycheck on—caught his eyes. They were ruined—just like everything he touched.

"We'll talk about it at home," Mom said. "Thanks for feeding the kids, John. Natalie, next time, just call me."

"I'm really sorry, Lois," Nat said.

"Don't worry, this one and I are going to have a long talk about personal responsibility," John Henry said.

"You two," Mom said to Jon and Jordan. "Car. Now."

John Henry handed Jon a tupperware container of his leftovers. "Look, Jon, if you ever need to talk..."

"I'm sort of talked out nowadays."

He wasn't completely sure if John Henry knew about the whole therapy thing—it would be just like Mom to gossip about that shit with her friends, but either way he had the feeling John Henry at least got the message: there's nothing to talk about.

"Okay, well if you ever want to work out some steam on a weapons project, you know where to find me."

Jon glanced over at Nat. It was a nice offer, but ever since John Henry had reunited with his genius daughter, it was clear he didn't need a dumb kid like Jon wasting his time in his shop anymore.

With his head slunk down, Jon followed his Mom out to the car.

The ride home was silent. At least externally. Inside Jon's mind, a million thoughts raced. Just how much trouble were they in? How much did their parents know about what they had done? And how, after everything that was happening, could they still think any of this bullshit mattered?

What were they going to do, ground him throughout the apocalypse?

The idea of Mom and Dad trying to send him to his room—after he merged with Jon-El—was so warped it circled right back around to funny. A scoff escaped Jon's lips. Then a chuckle. Maybe even a full-blown giggle.

Mom took her eyes off the road and stared at him like he was a lunatic.

Heat rose to his cheeks. He knew this wasn't a joke. He knew how pissed off his parents probably were. How could he have screwed up like this again? He was supposed to be making up for his transgressions, not digging himself into a worse hole.

His parents were never going to trust him again. Not that he deserved to ever be trusted again.

A short while later, they arrived back home and went inside to find Dad waiting in the kitchen. With Grandpa. The two men were silent, but their eyes were fixated on both boys as Jon and Jordan took their seats at the table.

"Great, triple-teamed," Jon muttered.

The glare Dad gave him sent a chill down Jon's spine. Was this how criminals felt when they faced down Superman? Grandpa's scowl wasn't much better, either, and Jon was suddenly reminded that this wasn't just his loving grandfather who used to take him on all those camping trips; he was General Lane, top brass at the DOD.

Mom took Jon's leftovers to the fridge, then found a spot behind Jon to hover from. She placed her hand on the back of his chair, grazing it against Jon's back ever so slightly. He leaned forward. It may have just been a graze, but it still felt too close to affection.

He didn't deserve affection.

Dad stood behind the kitchen island, leaning against it, as if he needed its support now with all this anger weighing him down. "What were you two thinking?" It was the same tone Dad had used when he found out about the X-K.

The memory sent another shiver down Jon's spine.

"And on your first day back? Do you know how hard we had to work just to convince them to give you a second chance? As if we don't have enough going on right now."

A super-powered cult leader and her followers from another world were definitely more than enough. Jon was scum for adding this to their plate.

"Clark." Mom's voice was steady and even. Her fingers brushed against Jon's shoulders for a moment, but another touch made him pull even further away. When he glanced back at her, all he could see was the hurt on her face, but she didn't try another comforting touch.

Jon looked back at his Dad. A vein in his neck had already been throbbing, and it twitched even harder once his rant got cut off prematurely. "I… what am I missing here?"

"Jon's being bullied," Jordan explained.

"You make it sound like I'm some incel dweeb," Jon snapped. "I'm fine. I can take it."

No one had listened to him when he told them he didn't want to return to school but now suddenly they cared? Why did they only seem to pay attention when he screwed up? Why couldn't they just leave him alone like they used to?

"Apparently he had a meltdown at school," Lois added. "About the end of the world."

"It wasn't a meltdown," Jon said through gritted teeth. He'd seen Jordan's meltdowns and what Jon had said—what he'd done—it was nothing like those. At least from what he remembered doing and saying.

"You said what?" Dad asked. He didn't sound angry. More like baffled.

Grandpa was looking at Jon like he had lost it too. And to think, Jon thought he had sunk his lowest with the X-K incident.

"It's not a big deal," Jon insisted. "It's not like I said anything about the secret… right?"

"No, he just ranted and raved about how nothing mattered and how everything was meaningless," Jordan muttered.

Jon sent a glare at his traitorous brother, who at least had enough shame to slink down in his chair as he blushed and turned away. In the corner of his eyes, Jon could see Mom and Dad glancing at each other, and it was clear that they definitely disagreed about his assessment of "not a big deal".

Before either of them could voice their own concerns, though, Grandpa sat down across from him. "Son, you know we're not going to let anything happen, right?" His voice was soft, so unlike the gruff disciplinary that he was supposed to be.

Where were the ultimatums and lectures? Where was the insistence to Mom and Dad to send Jon off to military school?

"You got Superman here to protect you," Grandpa continued. "I'm back in charge of the DOD. And that pendant we've been so concerned about? The one that lets two people merge? It's destroyed."

"Yeah, I know." Jon tapped his fingers across the surface of the table. "John Henry already told us this."

A couple hours ago when he had first heard the news, he had been so elated. But now… did it really matter? So what if Jon-El couldn't merge with him? Ally still had powers, and she was just going to be more pissed than ever. Did he really need to explain why pissing off a souped-up cult leader, and ruining her grand plans, might make her even more dangerous?

"So then you know you have nothing to worry about," Jon's unbelievably naive father said. Dad sat down next to Grandpa and reached for Jon's hands, but Jon pulled them away, just like he had pulled away from Mom's touch. "Jon." He sounded just as hurt as Mom had looked.

Why did everything he did have to cause them both so much pain?

The longer he stayed here, the more guilt would eat away at him. "Fine, whatever," he said. He needed to bury these feelings, and the only way to do that was to get out of here. "Can we just get our punishments and be sent to our rooms already?"

Dad held his gaze for a moment longer until Jon broke eye contact. Seeing the constant look of disappointment in his father's face was more than he could take.

"Jordan, you can't just cut class because your brother is being bullied."

Jordan. Not you two, or boys, or even "hey idiots" (which was really more of a Mom phrase anyway). Nothing to indicate that they were being disciplined as a unit. Just Jordan. Which meant Dad was holding off Jon's part of the lecture for his big finale.

"I know you were concerned about him, but this isn't the way to help. Don't you think your brother is in enough trouble at school without adding truancy to his permanent record?"

"I mean… it was just ditching," Jordan mumbled.

Jon elbowed his brother. "Dude, so not helping."

"'Just ditching?'" Mom repeated. "'Just ditching?' Haven't we already had this conversation?"

"No—I mean yes—but—I just mean… it's not like it was…" Jordan didn't finish the thought, but they all knew where it was headed.

It's not like it was drugs again.

So that was the new bar. That's how low their expectations of him had gone. As long as it wasn't drugs again.

"Just because it's not as bad as—as—as that"—she couldn't even say the words—"doesn't mean he gets a free pass. Don't you think that the school is going to hold him to an even higher standard now? They're expecting him to mess up. We need to prove to them that he won't."

It was like he wasn't even in the room. Jon could just melt into his chair—into the floor—and no one would even notice.

"What if they decide to suspend him over this? Or worse?"

Or worse? Like… kicked out again? Somehow, getting exactly what he wanted, a way out of that goddamn school, no longer sounded so appealing. Not if it was done by force again. Jon wanted his parents to back his plan to stay out of school, not to get expelled all over again.

"What?" Jordan's voice cracked. "They can't do that."

"They can do whatever they want," Mom said. "You can be kicked out over truancy, Jordan. They were already going out on a limb allowing Jon back in and if he's not going to show up, then they can rescind the plan."

"But… they're not going to, are they?"

Dad sighed. "I don't know. Probably not. We just got a phone call about your absences—a robocall. Your mom's just… we're both just concerned. Jon's in enough trouble at school. We need you both of you to understand how serious this is. He's on thin enough ice as it is. This can't happen again."

Jordan turned toward Jon, already blinking back tears. That had to be a record. "Jon, I—I'm so sorry. We shouldn't have—I should've… I'm sorry."

Jon looked away and stared down at the table. Why was Jordan apologizing to him? None of this was his fault. It hadn't been Jordan's idea to ditch. He didn't even want to do it. And he wasn't the one who had taken drugs and become the biggest pariah in Smallville. It wasn't his responsibility to stop Jon from making dumbass decision after dumbass decision.

Jon waited for his parents to correct Jordan, to tell him they were the one he owed an apology too, but it never came.

"Look Jordan," Dad said, "I know you meant well today, but this is the type of situation where you get an adult involved. Get a teacher, or your principal."

Jon rolled his eyes. Oh yeah, that would have gone over great. Tattling always puts an end to bullying.

"Or you call us," Mom added. She moved over to an empty seat at the head of the table, adjacent to Jon. "You have those cell phones for a reason—or if it's really bad, you have the ELT."

"The ELT is for Superman emergencies," Jon pointed out with all the irritation he could muster.

"It's for family emergencies."

Jon rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure Mom and Dad already had this disagreement a few months ago, back when Mom caught him and Candice alone in his room. On his bed. Shirtless. Dad definitely hadn't agreed that the ELT should be used to summon him to yell at idiot sons back then.

"She's right," Dad said. "I gave you those for if you're in danger—that includes if one of you two are in crisis."

"In crisis?" Jon looked up with a scowl. "What does that even mean? What do you think I'm going to do?"

Mom and Dad shared a look. And Grandpa too. What. The. Hell?

"I'm not Sarah. I'm not—I'm not gonna hurt myself."

"Whoa!" Jordan exclaimed. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"That's clearly what they're thinking. What else does 'in crisis' mean? That—that's therapy speak for hurt yourself."

"No, sweetie, no," Mom said, but for a woman who had supposedly won awards for her undercover reporting, the lie was pretty weak. "We're just concerned about…"

"So what is it then? You just think I'm going to take drugs again?"

Dad rubbed his temples. "Jon, we don't know what to think. We never thought you were going to do it the first time."

Jon hung his head in shame. He was never going to live this down.

"What did you two even do with Natalie today?"

"You know… hung out," Jordan said. "We wouldn't have let Jon get into any trouble. You know that."

Except they had gotten into trouble. Jon had come that close to dying. Again.

At least Mom and Dad didn't know what actually happened. At least they didn't know that his mind kept going back to that cavern, to that moment when all those rocks were falling all around him. They didn't know about how the X-K had made him feel. Or about how the aches he had been plagued with ever since Jon-El attacked him were now so much worse.

"I know sweetie," Mom said. "And I know you were just trying to help your brother, but you and Nat are just kids yourselves. You're not prepared to handle these types of situations."

These types of situations—crisis situations. Because apparently, Jon was in crisis. Jon had been handling his brother's meltdowns for years, and he had already faced down (and survived) countless near-death situations, but suddenly this kind of stuff was too much to handle? Since when?

Jordan sighed. "Okay. I hear you… So… how much trouble are we in?"

Another shared look between their parents. God, Jon hated when they did that.

"Consider this a warning," Dad said. "You didn't know how to handle something like this before, and now you do. But this can't happen again. You understand?"

"Really?" A smile tugged at the corners of Jordan's lips. "Um, yes sir. I understand."

"Keep looking like you think you got away with something, and we'll start to reconsider that," Mom warned.

"Alright, alright," Jordan said, his hands up in the air, but he was still losing a battle with his face to keep the smile away.

Jon looked away from his brother. That lecture had only been intended for one of them. Jon's punishment still awaited him. "What about me?" Jon asked.

With a heavy sigh, Mom told Jordan to head upstairs. "We need to talk to your brother alone."

Great, not only was he the only one getting punished, but a private lecture too. But of course Jordan was getting off easier. Jon and Jordan would probably be in nursing homes before the two of them were on equal footing again.

"You okay?" Jordan asked before he stood.

Jon waved him off. Causing a fuss would only make things worse.

Jordan gave him a squeeze on the shoulder, then exited out of the kitchen. Now, without his brotherly backup, surrounded by all three adults, he really was triple-teamed.

Mom waited until Jordan was up the stairs, and they heard the echo of his door closing before she spoke. "So what names do we need to give Principal Balcomb?" Her voice was suddenly soft.

"Huh? What? Huh?!" This was not the lecture he was expecting. Where was the yelling? The talk about how much of a disappointment he was? The implied implication that he was destroying their family.

"The bullies," Grandpa said. "We want the names."

Jon scoffed. This couldn't be about that. They still hadn't even punished him. "Sure, they still make phone books? Start under the Smallville section." He hadn't intended to give so much attitude, but the question was absurd. It'd be quicker to list who hadn't completely turned their back on him.

"Why don't you start with the ones who were hassling you today."

Jon stared at his grandpa for a moment while his brain tried to comprehend what they were actually asking. "Come on, you're not, like, serious? If I wouldn't rat on Candice when I was being expelled, what makes you think I'm going to snitch on a couple of guys over cracking some dumb jokes?" He glanced at his parents. "This isn't a big deal. Jordan and Nat were blowing it out of proportion."

Dad faced Mom. "How bad's this bullying?"

"It's not that bad!"

As always, they ignored him. Worse, they started talking about him like he wasn't even there again.

"You know how people get about their football," Mom said. "It can get pretty bad. A parent really tore into him at Lana's campaign rally last week. And Coach Gaines piled on."

"Coach Gaines has always given me a hard time."

"Not like that, Jon."

His stomach twisted again for the umpteenth time today. She was wrong. Gaines had always hated him, favoring his homegrown Smallville players instead, or even Jordan during the few months Superboy had played during freshman year. But if he was really truthful, things had gotten a bit more frustrating with him ever since the X-K incident.

Gaines had a new habit of coming into the store, and suddenly forgetting how to walk or use his hands properly.

"Oops! Spilled my coffee all over the floor again. Better clean that up, Kent."

"Oh, Kent, I can't seem to stop the slushie machine from overflowing. My bad!"

"Oof! Kent! Who puts a damn chip rack there? It's really your fault I knock this over every time."

Any little annoyance that Gaines could come up with, he'd do. But Jon could handle a jackass football coach who peaked in high school. It was everything else that was wearing out its welcome. The dirty looks he received from the other Brit & Dunn customers, or even just walking down the street. The muttered comments people made under their breath, just loud enough for him to hear. The occasional outburst from parents, or ex-teammates, or just really passionate townies screaming at him about how he had ruined everything. Not to mention the barrage of harassing texts and DMs he found on his phone after his last grounding had finally ended.

"It's not a big deal," Jon mumbled, but his heart was barely in the protest.

"Jon." Why was Dad saying his name like that? So sad and defeated.

What had Jon done wrong this time? Hadn't he been sucking it up and taking his licks just like he was supposed to? Didn't that count for something?

"Look, bud, maybe we didn't consider how hard the transition back to school would be for you."

With wide eyes, Jon looked up at his father. Were his parents—were they actually listening? "Does—does this mean I'm going back to online schooling?" He couldn't hold back the smile on his lips.

"No," Mom said, way too quickly. She wouldn't even give it some thought.

Jon huffed. What was the point of this conversation if they wouldn't even consider other options?

"But I think if we talk about it with Principal Balcomb—"

It was Jon's turn to answer without considering. "No way!" Getting the principal involved would only make things worse. If they thought the harassment was bad now…

"Sweetie, if you're being bullied—"

"I said no—"

"She might have some ideas—"

"No!"

All three adults stared at him, their faces covered in concern or pity. Where was his goddamn lecture? Anything had to be better than this, right?

"Jonathan." Dad's voice was unwavering in its conviction. "We love you and we want what's best for you. So you can sit here and pout and be as non-cooperative as you want. But it's not going to change the fact that we're setting up this meeting."

Jon grumbled. He had to give his parents credit, though, they sure were getting creative with the punishments.

"And we're talking about this with Dr. Wiles," Mom added.

His head snapped in her direction. "What? No. You can't—that's even worse than Principal Balcomb, Mom."

"Jon, your school is literally sending you there as an alternative to expulsion. If you're skipping school—skipping it because you're having issues with your classmates—it's something she needs to know."

"Yeah, well—well maybe I'll get lucky, and they'll kick me out again," he muttered.

"That's not even funny, Jonathan."

He looked down at the table, inspecting the wood grain instead of meeting any of their faces. He knew it wasn't funny. He knew it was wrong to say. He didn't even want to be kicked out again. So why the hell had he said it?

"Can you, like, just tell me what my punishment is?" he asked.

No one spoke for a long second, so Jon snuck a look up. Mom was looking over at Dad, having another goddamn silent conversation. He could just imagine it now, their near-telepathic agreement about how if being grounded for a month after the X-K incident hadn't taught him how to behave, then maybe a year would do it. Or maybe some military-style, corporal punishment physical training. Or perhaps a stay at a troubled teen center.

"Sweetheart," Mom finally said. "We already talked about this. When Jordan was here. Weren't you listening?"

"But that was just for…" Jon slowly realized that they never said that the warning was just for Jordan. The lecture maybe, but Jordan had asked how much trouble we were in and Mom and Dad answered without singling either of them out. "Oh… So Dr. Wiles is gonna handle my punishment?"

"What? No, honey. You're not being punished." Mom said. "Therapy isn't punishment."

"I'm literally going because I got in trouble at school," he reminded her, even though she had just said it.

Mom sighed. "You're going because your actions lately are a clear cry for help."

They thought he was broken. And even if he was, they weren't supposed to see that. He'd almost prefer a real punishment to this. At least he knew how to deal with that.

Jon looked over at his grandfather. "Aren't you going to tell them they're wrong? Tell them to throw the book at me instead of this"—he searched for a word that Grandpa would use—"'namby-pamby, hippy-dippy nonsense'?"

How many tales had Mom told him about her hardass disciplinary of a father—usually while trying to prove how easy he and Jordan had it? Surely Grandpa would think this was new age parenting nonsense.

Grandpa just frowned. "Wendy's good people, son. You should give her a chance."

Unbelievable. How was Grandpa of all people on their side? He didn't agree with Mom and Dad on anything, but this they all agreed on?

"Do you want to be in trouble?" Dad asked, looking at him like Jon had grown an extra head. "Cause, I got to be honest, Jon, that's probably the most concerning thing you've said all day."

"No," Jon said through gritted teeth. "Pretty sure I got my fill while you were away."

Mom had really tried to make those first couple weeks as hellish as possible, hoping that the boredom of sitting at home with no TV, no phone, no life, would make him cave and give up his dealer's name. He called that bluff; he read about 15 books last month, but in the end he won that game of chicken. He and Candice had only come clean on their own terms.

"Is there anything else or can I go now?"

"Jon—"

"Can I go or not?" If he stayed another minute, looking at those faces of pity, he might actually lose it. And then he'd never be able to convince them that he was fine.

Dad sighed. "Yeah. Fine."

Jon quickly rose from the table and power walked down the hallway and as far away from them as he could get. He didn't need to see those faces any longer. As he reached the bottom steps of the stairs, he caught a few hushed words that had gotten carried down the hall.

"…worried… not himself… struggling…"

He rushed up the stairs before he could hear any more of it. He didn't need to listen to them talking about how much of a lost cause he was, or how they thought he was losing it, or when they eventually circled around to writing him off entirely.

When he reached the upstairs hallway, Jordan immediately exited his room. Jon almost accused him of listening in with his super hearing, but Jordan had probably just heard him coming up the stairs.

"Dude!" Jordan whispered. "How much time you get?"

Jon stared at his brother, still trying to comprehend the punishment. "No time," he choked out with a dry throat.

"Really?" Jordan raised his hand for a high-five that Jon didn't meet. "What… what's wrong? Isn't that good news?

"They're gonna meet with Principal Balcomb and they're telling on me to my therapist." Jon practically spit out the last part.

"Oh… well that's not so bad."

Jon's head snapped up with a glare. He swore he could feel the phantom warmth of heat vision beneath his eyes. "They're gonna make me sound like a total loser!"

"No… it's not a big deal. Look, Mom and Dad did the same thing when I was being bullied at our old school. They just got my schedule changed, so I got out of the classes with those people. It wasn't so bad."

But Jon didn't want his schedule changed. He didn't want special treatment. Special treatment meant sticking out. It meant becoming a bigger target. He just wanted to keep his head down and get through everything without a fuss—at least until the world ended.

"Whatever," Jon mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. It had become increasingly obvious that Jordan was never going to take his side on this stuff. It wasn't worth the breath to try to convince him.

"You okay?" Jordan asked.

"Just peachy." He spat the words.

"Jon…"

"I said I'm fine!" Before Jordan could respond, Jon stormed off to his own room. He paced back and forth next to his bed, feeling like a wild animal trapped in a cage. Eventually he made his way over to the door and leaned against it as he slid down to the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest.

Everyone hated him. It was never going to get any better. He was definitely not okay.

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