"Alright," Pete's hands slammed flat on the table, his forehead creasing with worry. "Where the heck you been, man?"

The diner was half-asleep during this off-hour. Only a couple of old-timers nursed their teas at a safe distance. The jukebox blared rock tunes, drowning out our conversation in a cocoon of sound.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Sorry for missing your show, it's been–"

"Forget the show, dude. Spill. You said something happened?"

I rubbed my face, trying to figure out where to start, and lowered my voice even further "Fucking Jake sold me off to a lab."

"He did what!?" Pete's jaw hit the table.

"Shhh," I hushed him, shooting a panicked glance around us.

"They turned me into their personal science experiment. Turns out, I might not exactly be Earth-born." I continued.

Pete nearly choked on his coffee. "Hold up, hold up. You what now? You saying you're an alien? Like E.T. phone home?" he whisper-screamed.

"That's pretty much it," I nodded. "It's what the scientists concluded after all their poking and prodding. I didn't believe them at first, but it all adds up. The green rock is not from Earth either."

"You're shitting me." Pete's eyes looked like saucers.

"I wish."

"I was about to ask how they'd manage to even… hold you. So they had the stone?"

"Yeah. Jake used it while I was asleep, and then he included it in the package."

Pete paused for a moment, nibbling on his lip then he leaned in with an awkward smile. "Won't lie, Clark, it did cross my mind. I don't know, you've always had this… this aura, like you're from another planet. I mean, remember when you could smell when girls…uh, you know," he pointed south with a tilt of his head. "That was some next-level freaky stuff, dude."

I blinked. "Y-you remember that?" My cheeks hit every note of pink imaginable.

"You kidding? Never forgettin' that!"

"I shouldn't have told you!" I groaned, "I didn't know what it was. We were like sixteen!"

"Hey, at least now we know why," he joked.

"So you thought I was an alien and didn't think you would share your brilliant theories with the main interested party." I feigned hurt, raising an eyebrow.

Oh yeah that would have gone swimmingly," Pete chuckled. "Hey bestie, remember the scary movies that made you cry when we were kids? Yeah, you're the scaly green monster from outer space."

"Yeah, hilarious," I rolled my eyes then sighed. "That's not even the craziest part. The people at the lab…they wanted to use me as some kind of living weapon."

"You?" Pete scoffed. "Come on, man, I can barely get you to use your powers for anything useful. Can't imagine them turning you into a one-man army."

"They did, Pete." I cut in, searching his eyes. "They worked with the military… They used mind control on me." I left out the part about the psychic gorilla, trying to keep it one level of crazy at a time.

I didn't miss the subtle hitch in Pete's breath, his heart racing, and pupils dilating slightly. I winced inside, recognizing the fear in my best friend's eyes.

But Pete quickly composed himself, wetting his lips and clearing his throat. "Wow, man. I am sorry, that's messed up… are you okay, I mean, did they make you… you know, kill people?"

My throat tightened at the thought. "I… they didn't get to, I got away before they could make me cross that line." Grodd's truck exploding replayed in my mind. The one being I had… disposed of. Not even under mind control. I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking away the memory.

"But they made me hurt people. Burn shit left and right. It was a nightmare."

Pete's hand hovered over my forearm, as if he was afraid of getting shocked. But then, he squeezed it gently. "It wasn't you. You would never…"

I let out a shaky breath. "I know, but it was scary to see that if I wanted I could… I could destroy so much."

"But you don't! For as long as I've known you, with all the crap happening in your life, you've never snapped. Hell, I've never even seen you throw a punch until the Crow's Eye fight. And you could have. A lot of people would have deserved it."

"That's the thing, Pete, I have wanted it! Many times. I just don't want to be a murderer. Sometimes I wonder how the hell I don't just lose it and go berserk, I…" I buried my face in my hands. "The heat in my eyes, you have no idea how many times it almost got out of control. It's a fucking miracle I haven't already wiped out my whole neighborhood."

"Hey, hey!" Pete's knuckles turned white around my forearm, as if he was trying to physically anchor me. It was clear he knew I couldn't bruise. "The fact is, you never acted on those thoughts. Like… Man! Jake is alive. Even now, after what he did. After everything he did to you! How many people would have snapped, even accidentally? If that's not proof enough that you aren't some crazy alien killing machine, I don't know what is. Even I would've…" He paused for a second.

The knot in my throat tightened further and I could feel my eyes prickle at his words.

"Listen, you are a good person, my friend, and you better start believing it." Pete finally said, releasing my arm.

I stared at him, lips parting, lost for words. I didn't deserve him.

Pete sipped his coffee pensively. "So, where are you gonna go? Back with Jake, after what he pulled?"

"Honestly, I haven't had a moment to think that far ahead." I sighed heavily, cradling the warm mug in my hands. "Mom is stuck at the hospital too…"

"What?! Is she alright? What happened?"

"Man, I swear I'm cursed. She got attacked by that psycho clown." I tensed at the thought, and I set down my mug before it turned to dust in my grip. "She's recovering. Got saved by The Bat."

"Oh Yeah! I heard about that. Fuck, I had no idea it was your Mom. I am so sorry, Clark. Damn, man..." Pete's eyebrows softened. "Well, you can crash at my studio if you want." His trademark grin returned. "Couch is surprisingly comfy."

"Thanks," I chuckled, feeling a weight lift. "I might take you up on that." I absently rubbed the back of my neck. "I don't think I can handle a single jab from Jake without pounding him into the ground. Especially now he got no green rock."

Pete nodded. "Sure thing, bro. Whenever you're ready, just swing by. I'll get you a spare key," he added. "And about Jake, if you need someone to beat his ass…You know since you can't go all out without—"

I chuckled nervously, raising my hands to slow him down. "Nah, I think he got the message. We sort of… had a little heart-to-heart."

"Whoa really? Dude must've needed a change of pants after that talk." Pete exclaimed, a muted gasp on his face.

"He actually did."

"Did he cry?"

"Yeah, he got emotional," I smirked. "And, uh, any word from Helena?" I deflected. "Last I saw her was after the Brentwood Heights party, right before my life turned into a shit show."

Pete shrugged. "Barbara hit me up when you went off the grid, looking for intel, but I was as lost as they were."

"Barbs, huh?" I raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Finally swapped numbers?"

Pete winked, his eyes drifting to the waitress who glided by to refill our coffee cups, balancing a tray of pastel-colored milkshakes. "Yep, we got caught up in an escape room. She's a pro." He leaned in, a sly glint in his eye. "Details later. But back to business, what's the plan with Helena?"

I lowered my gaze to the tabletop, fiddling with the scattered sugar packets. "Good question," I mumbled. "I need to come up with something. How long have I been MIA, anyway?"

Pete's brow furrowed. "A solid week and a half since that party where you pulled a Houdini."

"Damn," I muttered, rubbing my forehead. "Feels like a lifetime."

"How 'bout you tell her you've been playin' the good son, looking after your mom in the hospital? And, you know, you forgot your charger or something."

"Ah, that could work," I replied, the gears of deception slowly turning in my mind. "I've been at the hospital with her, day and night. Broke my phone, and only managed to replace it now."

"Lost," Pete interjected. "You lost your phone. Believe it or not, phones don't break that easily for us mere mortals."

"Lost… my phone," I corrected, feeling lighter. I had a plan to cling to. "Thanks, Pete. I knew I had to talk to you first."

Pete raised his coffee cup in a mock toast. "Shakespeare would approve, my friend. Just make it sound legit."

"Meet you at lunch after Forensics. Don't bail, Casper."

I glanced up from Helena's message on my phone, cringing at the nickname. Gotham Academy was two missed classes away from expelling me. Luckily, thanks to my unnatural precision, I had managed to forge a medical certificate that even the school's bureaucracy couldn't debunk.

I reached the lockers on auto-pilot mode when blond hair gelled to perfection slid into vision—Tyler.

Oh, fuck. The last time we'd crossed paths, I'd exposed my secret like a fucking idiot. A sudden chill coiled around my temples. How could I forget about that?

The image of him fumbling with his belt on top of Helena flashed in my mind. Remorse took a back seat, my hand tightening around my phone. I swiftly slipped it in my pocket; Pete wouldn't be thrilled about another phone in pieces. I'd already depleted his supply of discarded devices.

Well this was awkward. My books thudded into the locker. Through the metal slats, I caught sight of Tyler's black eye. The bruise had mellowed into this weird mix of purples and yellows. Must've been a week old. Not my handiwork; he wouldn't be standing here. Damian or Helena. Maybe Bruce? Alfred? Whoever threw that punch, I wish I'd been there to witness it.

Tyler's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he spotted me, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. "W-Whoa, Clark, buddy!" he stammered awkwardly, his heartbeat drumming in my ears. "Look, about the party, we're cool, right? I might've had one too many. Things got fuzzy, you know how it is." He tried to pull off the laid-back act, leaning against the locker, but his jittery Adam's apple told a different story. "I won't say a word if you don't… Let's just bury it, yeah?"

"Cool? Nah, Tyler, we're not cool." I tossed out, scooping up my books. "If I catch you in the same room as her, you're dead," I slammed my locker shut, enjoying the way it made Tyler jump like a scared rabbit.

I took a step closer, his Gucci loafers shuffling back. The weight of my secret being out in the open was oddly liberating. Tyler had nothing on me. What could he do? Tell the press I had red shiny eyes? They'd think he'd lost his mind. And if they dug too deep, he'd need to confess his own sins.

"B-but we have White Collar Crime together–"

"You fucking heard me," I grunted, closing in until I loomed over him. "You so much as breathe in her direction," another step, "and you'll wish daddy bought you a bunker."

Making my exit, I ditched my usual caution, bumping my shoulder into his. His body met the locker with a metallic slam that reverberated in the hallway. He winced, mouth hanging open, clutching his arm. Good. Hope he'd be nursing that one for days. I'd endured Tyler's crap long enough, never lifting a finger in return. It was about damn time the tables turned.

The cafeteria buzzed with the low hum of chatter. Grabbing a soda and a plate of tacos, I sat at our usual spot waiting for Helena. God, I'd missed Gotham Academy's culinary delights. They made the army's bland rations seem like a distant nightmare. Nerves and excitement twirled in my gut. It felt like eons since I last saw Helena. I craved her presence; had clung to it during the whole lab nightmare. And now, I was about to spin a fresh batch of lies to protect my truth.

The chair across from me scraped, and a tray slammed onto the table. I stiffened, my eyes meeting Helena's intense gaze. For a moment, words abandoned me. If she had my vision, I'd be a smoking crater.

"Well?" she spat out.

Shit. She was furious. I straightened up, bracing for the storm. She dropped into her chair, a cloud of jasmine and cedarwood blowing up my last coherent thought. My hands twitched with the urge to pull her close, to feel her warmth. But a wall of ice stretched across the table. It held me tight to my chair, giving her the space she clearly wanted.

I scratched my head, attempting a casual grin. "Hey, sorry about the ghosting act. I was at the hospital. My Mom– I had to–" I stumbled through my words, feeling like a complete moron.

"I know about your mom, Clark. Is she okay?" she asked, a frosty concern replacing her initial fire.

"She's pretty banged up, but she'll pull through," I replied, pushing the tray away, the tacos suddenly looking less appetizing. Wait, did she hear the news or had Bruce told her?

"Where were you?" Helena cut in. "You didn't answer my texts, not one? I was worried, you know."

I looked at her, a glacial tension settling in my throat at the impending lie. "Hospital," I finally said, trying to keep my voice and every facial muscle under strict control. "Couldn't leave her alone, could I?"

"Well, you still owe me an explanation, Casper." The nickname jab stung again. Seemed like I was about to get labeled the world's most famous ghost until I patched things up. "A week is a long time to disappear. Especially after what happened at Anne's house."

"Alright, alright, fair point, and I'm genuinely sorry for leaving you hanging." I ran a hand through my hair. "I forgot my phone, then couldn't find it. Jake probably took it or sold it for beer money, God knows. Took me a while to scrape together enough for a new one. Spent a week practically camping in a hospital chair; my back hurts like a bitch." I lied, flashing a sheepish grin.

Helena's eyes turned into narrow slits. "So, you're telling me you just lost your phone and slept at the hospital for a week? No texts, no calls. Nothing." She casually sprinkled dressing on her salad, side-eyeing me. "Couldn't borrow a phone there to at least give me a heads-up?"

"Yeah, I messed up there." I muttered, rubbing the back of my head. "I was all over the place. Didn't memorize your number." Lies, lies and more lies. I didn't need to; my eidetic memory virtually made me a walking phone book. "Honestly, my mom needed me; everything else just faded into the background."

Helena's expression softened a bit. "Well at least she's okay." She took a mouthful of salad, chewing thoughtfully. "Hm, if you need help with the hospital bills, let me know."

Helena's offer caught me off guard. "Thanks, Helena." I mumbled, embarrassed. "I gotta check if Mom's insurance can bear the load; we get some aids for her hip problems." I shifted uncomfortably. "Y-you already paid for my suit." I couldn't keep depending on others' charity. My scholarship only stretched so far. With Jake on the outs, it was maybe time to look for a student job.

"And, uh, how have you been doing?" I asked. "When I left you with Alfred, you were unconscious…"

"Yeah, Alfred mentioned you were the one who brought my passed-out ass to him. Survived the worst hangover known to man." She shoveled another forkful of salad. "Thanks for the save, by the way," she muttered.

"Glad you're back on your feet. It was too close… When I saw Tyler on you, I could have torn him apart… I–," Heat crawled up from my core to my eye sockets. I mentally kicked myself. Helena didn't need a rerun of that moment. I sure as hell didn't need one, unless I wanted this whole damn cafeteria to go up in flames.

"It's on me, though." I added, steering the conversation away from that scene. "I was his target." If Helena wasn't with me that day, the fork incident would have never happened and Tyler would've found some other poor soul to mess with.

Helena's eyes shone. "Don't say that, you self-flagellating nitwit. She balled up a napkin, tossing it my way and I caught it instinctively. "He came after me because he's a certified asshole." She violently stabbed a tomato, pointing it at me. "And that's on him, not you."

I bit the inside of my cheek, unconvinced. "And, huh… any idea who gave him the shiner?" I offered her a half-smile. "I'd love to shake their hand."

"That would be yours truly," she retorted with a devilish grin.