THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE FEEDBACK!

Sorry I kinda put a rant at the beginning of the last chapter, but you guys are so kind! Thank you for the sweet responses!

Disclaimer: I only know a surface amount about monetary investments and such. Please forgive any minor inaccuracies.

Here we go with the story!

I pinched the bridge of my nose, then began to rub my eyes in fatigue. A LOT had happened since I went asteroid mining six months ago, and Lexi and I found out about Rogue's powers mutating.

When We had arrived back at the institute, there was a search for her, as apparently she was missing. I used my X ray vision to find her, and when I got close she scrambled away from me. She was shivering, crying, and wouldn't go near anyone.

My heart sank when we finally got her to explain why.

We immediately did further scans of her powers, and the new effects on her body. We had assumed they would be boosted in a similar way to Lexi, slightly stronger with an added Telekinetic element of some kind. We had assumed that she would adapt to it like Lexi did.

We were wrong.

Lexi was was only occasionally exposed to incredibly small amounts of the kryptonian solar fusion energy I had in my body, such small amounts that it wouldn't affect anyone normally. The only reason it affected Lexi at all is because of how young she was when she was first exposed (literally a few minutes after being born) and the fact that she had been around it constantly for so long.

It allowed her X gene to accept and adapt to the excess energy, growing and changing in a stable way before it was activated.

What happened to Rogue was different. She was exposed after her X gene had already manifested, and the sheer amount of energy that coursed through her in that moment was equal to all the power that was in my body at that moment.

Which to be clear, is way, WAY more than a human body should be able to handle.

So how did she survive? Well, Rogue's power actually has two parts. Power absorption, and copy based metamorphosis. Her body actually changes to match the physical traits that sustain the powers of whoever she just took from, though this ability is only temporary. Her power had a physical side, and an energy side.

So for a few moments, her body had morphed to match that of a Kryptonian, which would have been fine, had my energy not boosted her powers.

Now she had powers that adapted themselves to a body that was capable of absorbing sunlight for energy, which she was no longer able to do, because her body didn't have the traits of a Kryptonian anymore. The incident had only boosted certain parts of her powers, and practically left other parts unchanged. Left the physical side unchanged.

We didn't dare have her absorb from me again for fear of making her even worse than before.

The strangest adaptation we noticed was the pink crystals. Her body could draw in a tremendous amount of energy, but it wasn't actually capable of metabolizing it all at once. The rate at which her body processed the energy was the same as before, but her rate of absorption had been multiplied many times over, so where did the energy go? It crystallized. The fuchsia crystals that formed on her skin acted as a battery, storing the energy until her body was able to metabolize it. The longer she went without absorbing energy, the smaller the crystals shrank as they were consumed.

It was when we studied these crystals that we got a breakthrough. They were similar in composition to the ruby quartz that held back Scott's optic blast, but also bore a striking resemblance to Kryptonian crystal tech.

With some of the crystal to analyze, dr McCoy and I worked together to create a containment suit. Hank's portion resembled a full coverage pink morph suit. It was skin tight and didn't have any breathing or vision holes, but did its job in containing and stabilizing Rogues powers. The material of the suit was light and breathable enough that she could see and breathe out of it. When it was worn, the special material it was made from was able to block her from draining people's energy, allowing her to more or less touch people again. Her face was completely covered, but at least she didn't have to worry about draining anyone she didn't want to.

Since the material was made from her own crystals, she was able to absorb through it when she focused, but otherwise was blocked. We also found that she retained a lot more stamina when wearing the suit, which was both good and concerning at the same time. Good because it partially fixed her problems, but bad because it suggested that her life force was leaking out of her when she wasn't wearing it.

More damage that I have done.

My part of the equation came when I tried to use a Kryptonian scanner on her, only to have her absorb the energy from it from across the room!

"Sorry!" She had been quick to apologize.

"It's fine. If you can absorb energy from Kryptonian tech, then that means I can't bring you back to the fortress, or do a deep scan of exactly what's going on with your energy system. But it also means, that we have a method to provide you energy without having you drain anyone."

I had created a special harness. Its only job was to interphase with the containment suit, absorb sunlight, and feed the resulting energy into rogues body.

The first few tests, the harness worked too well, and the excess of energy surged beyond what her body plus the containment suit would hold, and her body started producing Chrystal's to store the excess.

Not to be deterred, we tried a few more designs, and finally arrived on one that was able to regulate the amount of energy it produced from the sunlight based on how much Rogue was drawing at any moment, only feeding her body the energy she needed at that moment, and no more or less.

When she wore the fuchsia body suit and the white harness together, I couldn't deny what she looked like.

A pinkish purple humanoid shape, a white ring around her shoulders, chest, and back, and another around her waist, which were both connected to each other by a vertical white line down her middle.

She looked like parasite.

Why?

Why the fuck did she look like parasite?!

Was this my fault?

After we fitted the final version of the suit, she had walked out into the sun and sighed in relief. The hunger was gone. Her powers were stable, she could fly and basically had super strength because of her TK, and she could actually choose whether she wanted to absorb from someone or not. She had hugged me and Hank, bawling under the containment suit with thanks at finally fixing her powers. She even had a talk with me about how she didn't blame me for this, that she had been the one to absorb from me, and it was against my will. She told me not to feel guilty, even as she failed to hide the discomfort and fear she felt in my presence.

It didn't fucking work.

She didn't just look like a mutant in a containment suit. She looked like parasite. This had to be my fault somehow.

After the suit was done, everyone just seemed to… relax.

Her powers were stable now.

They would 'get through this' together.

It was just like Scott's visor. Just like the other measures they needed to take.

They gave up. They considered the problem solved, hell, even Rogue was trying her best to be in a state of acceptance.

I wasn't.

This was unacceptable.

And so I began my work. Without the ability to perform a full kryptonian scan, I could only speculate what her energy system 'looked' like right now, but I had scanned the human body, as well as a blood sample of Rogue's, and was trying to find a solution.

It was slow going. I had been trying to develop a system of crystalline fibers that could be formed within her body to mimic the aspects of Kryptonian biology that she was missing, so she could be stable without that suit or harness. I had originally gotten the idea from the injustice video game, from the pills the characters took that increased their durability, but I was trying to mimic the role of Stellacytes, the special cell kryptonians had that absorbed and regulated the solar fusion reaction.

If I could succeed, she wouldn't have to wear that suit anymore.

Unfortunately, it was currently seeming like it was impossible. I had been working on and off on the project for months, with Jor El helping along the way.

The main limitation was the lack of information. We couldn't do a deep scan of Rogue, because her body just absorbed the energy used to perform the scan. If we could figure out how to perform the scan properly, things would be much simpler.

I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms above my head. Couldn't anyone see that the containment suit was a temporary measure? That if it was ever breached or damaged, that we would have an actual crisis on our hands?!

I sighed. Even if rogue's situation was the only problem I was dealing with I'd be plenty tired, but I was also dealing with shit back at the farm. Back after we had first completed Rogue's suit, I had returned home. Ma and Pa had spread the knowledge that we were expanding the cellar by this point, but we hadn't 'found' the treasure yet.

During this time, I received a visit, alongside a conundrum of a more… personal nature.

Kent Farm: 2 weeks after Asteroid mining trip

The golden rays of the morning sun beamed through the open barn door, warming my face and filling me with a gentle energy.

Before this would have made me extra cautious, especially if I had to do delicate work, but ever since I started my T-Rao training, I had attained an even higher level of control. If I focused, I could feel and control nearly every muscle fiber in my entire body, alongside controlling certain aspects of my biology that would be impossible for a human, like compressing my spine and limbs to appear shorter, contracting my skin to compress my muscles and appear lighter, to even such ridiculous control over my facial muscles that I could look slightly different in several ways, and could even wiggle my ears independently from anything else on my face and, most impressively, perfectly do all of Jim Carey's facial expressions. Truly, a superhuman power. I of course, didn't usually make use of that last ability, as it was generally unnecessary in everyday life, but it was fun to do in the mirror at the end of a long day.

When that level of control is possible, to the point where you can slow down or speed up the growth rate of your hair and nails on command? Doing a chore like milking a cow doesn't take much concentration anymore. I enjoyed simple work like this, as it distracted me from all the other things I had to deal with. It was almost… meditative in a way.

Clarabelle was the only cow we owned, and I raised her from a calf for the FFA, and she was now a dairy cow who I babied and spoiled as much as you can with a cow.

She liked it when I sang, and with the superhuman muscle control I now had I could pretty much sing anything I wanted and hit all the notes perfectly, so I'd been branching out lately on the types of stuff I sang. Today, I was feeling Elvis, as Clarabelle enjoyed hearing lyrics at a lower, smoother pitch.

"Wise men say,

Only fools rush in.

But I can't help falling in love with you."

Done milking I poured the contents of the bucket into a large jug and put it into a cooler, then got out a brush and started working my way through her coat. Most people didn't bother to do this with cows, as installing a large vertical tube brush that they could scratch themselves on was perfectly fine, but I had raised Clarabelle from a literal calf, and this was one of the ways I liked to take care of her.

"Like a river flows,"

"Moo"

"Surely to the sea,"

"Moo"

"Darling so it goes,

Some things, are meant to be."

Done with her coat, I checked her hooves, holding them up myself under my arm like she was a horse. Normally you'd use a machine for this, as cows were much heavier and much stronger than horses were, but that wasn't a problem for me. Not only because of my strength, but because Clarabelle trusted me completely, and almost never kicked.

"Take my hand,

Take my whole life too.

For I can't help falling in love with you."

"Mooooooo"

Done with the song, and her care, I patted her side. "There you go girl, nice and clean."

I heard a sigh from over at the barn door, which was open. Surprisingly enough, it was Lana, a girl I'd gone to high school with. I was surprised to see her, as I didn't realize was home from college. She and Whitney Fordman, that guy who tried to take my bag when we were 13, were currently dating, and lived next door to each other in the student dorms on campus.

"Clark, if you treated a woman half as good as you treat that cow, she'd be a happy lady all her life." Lana said, shaking her head and smiling.

I chuckled, "Why, you offering?" I joked, falling back into high school ribbing among friends.

I expected her to laugh, roll her eyes, or to gag exaggeratedly, or maybe even to mime wrapping a noose around her neck. You know, give me shit about it.

The last thing I ever expected her to do was what she did, which was to meet my eyes with the deepest, most sincere eye contact and say, "Maybe."

I was briefly stunned. She looked… vulnerable, as if she was baring a bit of her inner self she normally didn't let out.

I was lost for words. "Lana…" I started, but she interrupted.

"Whitney proposed to me yesterday." She said, looking away.

Now I was completely off balance. Finally, my brain reengaged. "Um… Congratulations! That's wonderful!"

She sighed, sounding a bit disappointed, "I didn't say yes. I told him I needed to think about it."

"O-Oh" was all I managed. What the hell do you even say to something like that?!

"Give me a reason." She said, so softly and tenderly she was almost whispering, and stepped forward towards me. "Give me a reason to say no. Tell me you…" she trailed off. "If there is anything between us, anything at all, say so. Please."

My stomach twisted in knots. What the fuck was even happening?! How could she just spring this on me with no warning?!

Had there been warning? To me she had always been a child. To me, she still seemed like that. I've pretty much had the awareness of an adult since I was four, and even though we were now both over 18, it seemed… weird. Almost like… grooming maybe? I obviously never made any attempts to grow such a relationship, but still, it didn't feel good. I knew her when she was a kid while I had the mind of an adult, it… didn't feel natural. Didn't feel…

Whatever. Big picture bottom line, I didn't return her feelings. It was that simple.

It's funny. I've never been on this side of things before. She was a good person, and she was quite attractive, but… I just felt super uncomfortable with the thought of being together. It just wasn't clicking. It was just… weird.

"Lana, I…" I didn't want to burn a bridge here, but I didn't want to give her the wrong idea either. What the fuck do I do?! "I…"

She must have seen the discomfort on my face. A tear ran down her cheek. "Right. Got it." She said, hurt, and turned towards the barn door, walking away. She wiped the tear track with her sleeve.

"Lana, wait!" I sad. She paused, and turned back towards me.

I thought hard, trying to find a way to make my true feelings known while remaining graceful and inoffensive. "It's not you, I'm just… not ready for that kind of thing you know? I mean… we've never even dated, never even talked about dating. To me this seems like it's coming out of left field y'know?"

She sighed, but seemed to look a bit better. But also… hopeful? Uh oh. I couldn't lie. I had to be sincere. But I also couldn't lead her on. That wouldn't be fair.

Instead of a statement, I asked a question. "Do you… even want to get married? Is that something you've been working towards? Or did Whitney just spring it on you all of a sudden?"

She chewed her lip, actually thinking about it. "I… I don't know. I obviously knew it was a possibility, but… it wasn't something I was… 'working towards'. I was just… living my life. But time carries on, and I'm afraid if I don't take this chance then I'll… I don't want to end up alone Clark."

I sighed. "Lana, your twenty, not sixty, and even then there'd be hope. You've got plenty of life to live yet, you act like it's all downhill from here. It isn't."

Lana sighed, hugging herself.

I hesitated, thinking of what else I could say. "Look… Lana. If marriage is something that you want, then there's no reason to hold back. Go for it. But also, the opposite is true. If right now, marriage isn't something that you yourself want then, well, don't get married! The point is, at the end of the day, it's up to you, and no one else. Don't say yes just for Fordman's sake, and don't say no just for my sake! Do what you want. It's your future we're talking about, you're allowed to be a little selfish."

She sighed again, with more tears falling. "I just… I dont know what I want!"

I sighed again. "You want my advice? What I'd do in your situation?"

She nodded.

"I'd say no."

She looked up, shocked.

"You said yourself, you don't know what you want yet. So take time. Time to find out. Finish college, become a— a scientist, or a news anchor, or a fashion designer, or whatever. Find out who you are, and what you want. That takes time. And hey." I paused. I looked at her, really looked at her. I remembered everything I knew about her. She was beautiful, I knew her very well, thought she was fun enough to hang out with, and she obviously liked me a lot. Honesty? I could do a lot worse. "If… in ten years, after we've both had some time to live our lives, and figure stuff out, we're both still single? Let's give it a try."

"Ten years? Really?" She asked incredulously.

"Look Lana, I'm not ready for a serious relationship right now. I've got a lot on my plate, and I don't know the answers to a lot of questions. I need…"

"Time." She finished.

"Yeah." I finished lamely.

She sighed, then smiled in a bittersweet but hopeful way. "Alright, fine. Ten years."

"Yup!" I said.

"Will you wait for me?" She asked.

I cringed inwardly, but managed not to let it show. "No. And you shouldn't wait for me either. Be free, find yourself, do what you want."

"And what if you are what I want?" She asked, only half joking.

I stopped myself from sighing. "Love isn't love if it isn't mutual." I answered.

She winced, then chuckled. "Ouch."

"Sorry… it's just…" what do I say? "I kinda have a… type?" I answered, regretting making her feel bad and trying to lighten the mood.

She quirked an eyebrow, intrigued, "Oh? You've never talked to me about anything like this before. Spill!"

I paused, embarrassed, but figured she'd been vulnerable to me so it was only fair to do the same. "I kinda… sorta… well the term MILF is a bit crass but—"

Lana choked in shock, then burst into full on belly laughter, her hands on her knees. "Holy shit! Whatever I was expecting it sure wasn't that! Ten years huh? When we're 30? It all makes sense now! Haaahahaaa!"

Heat bloomed in my cheeks and I cursed the fact that I was probably blushing. "Shut up, I told you that in confidence."

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry! I'll stop laughing I promise! It's just so… unexpected! It's just…" she tried to hold in her laughter, air squeaking past her lips, then failed spectacularly, cackling even more.

I sighed, letting her get it all out.

Finally, with a deep breath that seemed to cause the tension to melt off her frame, she got herself under control. "Oh. Oh my goodness, I don't think I've laughed like that in… wow."

That made me smile. "That's awesome." I said, genuinely happy for her. Everyone could use a good laugh every once in a while.

She sighed, contemplating. "Clark… there's something else? Or… not really something else, just..."

"What is it?" I asked. We walked out of the barn, our steps crunching on the gravel road as we made our way to her car.

"I don't like Whitney's parents. At all." She confessed.

I nodded, not at all surprised. I had interacted with them many times and shared the same opinion. They weren't horrible, I mean, it's not like they were criminals or abusers or anything.

Whitney's dad was almost always completely checked out. He got home, sat on the couch, cracked open a beer, and did nothing. Got drunk almost every night. And honestly? That wouldn't even be so unforgivable if he interacted with everyone a bit more, or did a few chores every once in a while, but nope. Worker by day, couch potato by night. But even that wasn't so bad when you considered that all you had to do to avoid the man was to not step between him and the television. The really bad one was his mom. She was the kind of woman to show up to her sister's wedding in a white dress if you know what I mean.

Almost everything had to be about her, she called Whitney her 'sweet baby angel' in front of polite company, was a compulsive non listener, and bulldozed over everyone and everything that told her anything she didn't want to hear.

One time Whitney picked on a kid in high school, got in a fight, and Whitney's mom had demanded the other kid be suspended for 'attacking her boy like unprovoked like that' despite numerous accounts that Whitney had been the aggressor. She was a classic enabler/helicopter parent that lived in her own world made of false appearances, backbiting, and gossip.

In other words, not a nice lady. "Me neither." I agreed.

She huffed. "It's not just me right?! Like… they totally suck!"

I nodded, and she looked at me with a wistful look in her eye.

Wait. "Hold on. Do you only want to date me because of Ma and Pa?!"

"I could say it wasn't a factor Clark, but then I'd be lying."

I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself. "Jeez Lana, really?"

"I didn't say it was the only factor! Just a main one."

I shook my head, laughing. "You know we don't have to be dating for you to hang out with my parents. They'd love to have you over whenever you want, you know you're always welcome. For heavens sake Lana, we grew up together and they even babysat you a bunch of times, I mean at this point we're practically—"

Lana interrupted me, a dangerous look in her eye, "Clark Joseph Kent, don't you dare say siblings or I swear to—"

"I didn't! I wasn't!" I blatantly lied, and from the look in her eyes, she knew it.

As we arrived at her car, She sighed, and looked deeply into my eyes. We stood across from each other for a few seconds, before she walked up to me and gave me a hug. "Thanks Clark."

I hugged her back. "If you ever need any help, just call. I'll be there."

She gently tugged on my collar to get me to lean down, and standing on her tiptoes, she gave me a kiss on the cheek. "See you around?" She asked.

"Yeah. For sure." I answered.

She got into her car and rolled down the window, "Don't get snapped up by a cougar while I'm gone!" she called out as she began to drive away.

I laughed. "No promises!" I hollered, and she flipped me off, her hand out her window, a smile on her face.

Honestly, that whole experience had brought up a lot of things I had been ignoring. The realization that I came to during that conversation, that I like more aggressive/dominant women? How will I ever find a girl like that when I can dodge bullets and bench press the moon? That would frighten anyone, wouldn't it?

Also, My lifespan was theoretically endless so long as I was under a yellow sun and didn't die from battle! What partner could I reasonably have knowing that?

I guess I just shouldn't think about it, and enjoy any relationship I eventually have for what it is while it lasts?

In my past life I hadn't really been able to get many dates, and in this one I had always held myself back because it didn't seem right, but what was holding me back now? Nothing.

It was both exiting and also terrifying at the same time. I knew I wanted to eventually be in a relationship, I just didn't know what that would look like. I couldn't imagine it.

Of course, all of this business took a back seat when we finally got around to announcing that we had 'found' the treasure.

Smallville practically rioted.

People came all over the state to see it, and I was glad I had taken the time to mix the impossible 100% elementally pure gold with a tiny amount of sediment taken from the mines of the gold rush town it was supposedly from.

It was declared genuine, and from there started the process of us tying to keep our own gold. A museum in Kansas City tried to petition that we had to relinquish it as an object of historical significance, but the fact that it was a family heirloom allowed us to prevail. While we could have auctioned it off to a treasure collector for a higher price than the gold was worth just as gold, we didn't want to actually commit fraud, and just in case the actual treasure existed/ever got found, we sold it for the current market price of gold.

Once taxes were paid, we were left with a little over one million dollars.

We had all celebrated that night, and Pa had Taken Ma by the hand and danced around the living room.

It didn't hold a candle to what came next.

We bought the property in Texas, and had surveyors come in and assess the property, as well as preliminary drilling to connect to the reservoir I already knew was there.

It was a massive reservoir of incredibly high quality oil, and while we could have leased it to a company to maintain ownership of the land, while getting a cut of the oil that was extracted, we didn't really want to enter the oil business as it were. So instead, we elected to sell the mineral rights to the highest bidder. A lot of people tried to shortchange us, and it took so, SO much bargaining, but we finally were able to sell it for a good value.

At the end of the day?

After even more taxes, more fees, and even a ridiculous lawsuit from that guy that Pa told us about who had trespassed on the property when he was a kid, and was salty that the treasure was 'real' after all (that was quickly dismissed), we were left with a lump sum of a little over 247 million dollars.

People in Smallville knew we had found the treasure. They knew we had money now. They didn't know we had graduated from having barely a single mil to having just short of a quarter billion.

It was honestly… surreal.

But now that we had it, it was time to use it. Invest it most of it, but… maybe spend a bit on the side. Just because we didn't necessarily want to live a uber rich person's lifestyle doesn't mean we wanted to live exactly how we were before.

We updated all of the farm equipment that needed it, and fixed a lot of things in the house that needed fixing.

We got a computer and internet, as well as a larger TV for the main family room.

But just recently, I had the job of convincing Ma and Pa of the hardest sell yet.

Tony Stark had returned from Afghanistan. I had briefly considered saving him, or if allowing it to happen at all was a shitty thing to do, but ultimately decided against interfering. Born out of that experience was Iron Man, and I couldn't Justify interfering with that. I could only do what I could, and for everyone I saved there were many more that died at that same time. There were always people dying. It wasn't my responsibility to completely rid all the world of every crime.

I still felt guilty about it though.

When Tony had been kidnapped, SI stock had began to drop. When he announced that he was shutting down all weapons production, his stock plummeted further.

Like I said, I did feel guilty. Not nearly SO guilty that I didn't take a golden opportunity when it was right in front of me.

It had been a tough discussion with Ma and Pa. Neither of them were fans of Tony Stark, as he was, and I quote, "a narcissistic, gambling, womanizing, alcoholic man-whore of a billionaire who was loose with his weapons sales and probably did drugs in his spare time."

And while some (not all) of that may be true, I nearly had a brain aneurysm when Pa suggested we instead invest with Hammer Industries, simply because his Cousin worked there and it would be good to support him.

Things finally tipped in my favor when Lexi backed me up. As soon as we had began our foray into buisness, Lexi had been irritated by her lack of knowledge, and had put her genius brain to work in learning finance and economics from the professor and his library.

Between that, her technical knowledge stating that stark products were superior, and me making an impassioned speech about how as soon as Tony found out that his company was double dealing he shut it down, and how he was seriously in the process of changing his ways, did we get through to him. I was a bit irritated with Pa, but he later apologized, saying he was mostly nervous about the sheer amount of money we were spending on this investment. He wanted to be ABSOLUTELY SURE it was in good hands, and Tony Stark did not have a good reputation.

Because so many people were selling stock, trying to get out before they lost too much money, we were able to buy a ridiculous amount at a relatively cheap price, and 74 million dollars later, we were the proud owners of 4.3% of Stark industries. It wasn't quite enough to get a seat on the board of Directors, but it was enough that we would get a tiny portion of Stark Industries' monthly income as dividends. Part of these dividends were reinvested into the company to keep our percentage where it was even with the inevitable influx of new investors, but part of these dividends were given as cash.

After Tony announced himself as Iron Man, and announced a slew of new products, the company's value began ramping up once again, and we got our first monthly check.

And if it weren't for the Kryptonian artery scrubbing Nanites that I had given Pa, I would have thought he was having a heart attack.

We were not going to run out of money any time soon.

Quickly, Ma and Pa started purchasing people's debts who were struggling around the area, and meeting with the people whose debts they now owned.

If they had already paid the initial principal of the debt off, their debt was forgiven. No additional payments necessary.

For people who got their loans more recently, or who hadn't managed to pay the whole principal off yet, were given much greater leeway in their payments and had the interest reduced to zero.

They called this charity, and it was a charity, as we made no money off of it, "Kent Debt Solutions". And the amount of people sobbing with gratitude increased quite substantially around Smallville.

Because of this project, many people that would have otherwise lot their farms or houses were able to keep them, and we decided that every year at Christmas we would hold a raffle of all our 'clients' names in a hat, and whoever's name was pulled, would be completely forgiven on any debt they had remaining, which we would call our Annual Christmas Jubilee.

We had initially wanted to forgive all the debts outright, but quickly found that such a thing would rapidly make us go bankrupt, and we wanted to continue helping as many people for as long as possible, and the current money drain was at the point that it almost matched our income. Because it was registered as a charity, we technically could ask for donations, which we had plans on doing, but we would need to meet with someone to set up commercials and marketing and such, which we planned on doing in the coming months.

The amount of good we were doing made my heart swell, and I had never seen the community of Smallville and even the surrounding rural counties happier in my life.

It made me even more proud that I held the name Kent.

It made me want to more as Superman as well.

I would find a cure for Rogue. I swear.

But first? The Kents were getting famous. I needed to shore up my secret identity.

Making sure to remain anonymous, and with the help of Charles and his contacts, we secretly spread word around the country that there would be a Superman lookalike contest, the winner of which would win 25,000 dollars. It would be held In Chicago, Illinois, and as it was approaching, we even managed to get television coverage of the event. Admission was fifteen bucks per compeditor, and we ended up making a little more than what was necessary to cover the the Pot, which was an unexpected surprise.

Ma made a replica of my super suit out of spandex, and I competed, making sure I compressed myself to be just a bit shorter and lighter looking than I was normally.

Black haired, blue eyed buff guys from all over the country came to compete in the event, and we got a bunch of surprising visitors, which included Arnold freaking Schwarzenegger, who expressed interest in viewing the competition, as he said it was a "retyuhn to a moa clazzic foahm of bahdy building, focuzing moa on de elegance and aesthetics of the muscular bahdy, rathuh than just pureuh bulk."

It honestly got a little out of hand, but I guess that's what happens when you have a cash prize of 25 grand.

And do you want to know the crazy part? The part that I hadn't expected?

I didn't even win.

I didn't even get in the top five of super man lookalikes.

A bodybuilder from Miami had won. The judges, (who were legitimate, as we didn't want to fix the competition) had praised my looks, but docked points because of my costume, and critiqued my face as 'a bit too boy next door for Superman' despite me not doing anything to actually change my face.

I felt a bit like I was in the twilight Zone.

But whether I won or not, the plan didn't change. At the end of the competition, just after they announced the winner, a crystal golem robot that was a perfect replica of me as Superman, remotely piloted by Lexi, descended on the stage and congratulated the winner, shaking hands with him. 'Superman' stayed for a bit, taking pictures with anyone who wanted, which of course included myself.

We took the picture of me shaking hands with 'Superman' in my homemade costume, and hung it up in the house, with Ma talking around town and bragging about how I had placed seventh in a national Superman look alike contest, and showing people the picture.

By the end of the week, people in town shouted things like "Hey! There goes Superman!" Jokingly as I walked by, and none of them even had the slightest idea that their words were far truer than they thought.

Instead of hiding it and hoping people wouldn't notice I was Superman, we shoved my 'resemblance' to 'him' in everyone's faces, letting them recognize the resemblance in a way that completely obliterated the possibility that I actually was Superman in their eyes. If people notice a connection on their own, they are more likely to dig deeper. But if they already are introduced to me looking like Superman by seeing a picture of me shaking hands with him, they will dismiss the resemblance as nothing but a cool coincidence.

This would free me up to be more active publicly as Clark Kent, and I posted the picture of me shaking hands with 'Superman' on my social media profiles. The fake robot me had a confident and heroic smile that showed his/my pearly white teeth, while my smile was close lipped and nervous, and with the expressions, apparent height and weight difference, and even difference in body language? We even looked like two different people in the picture to me and I actually knew I was Superman!

It all turned out so much better than I could have imagined.

After my day working at the fortress on a cure, I flew home to the farm. I sent them a quick heads up, and they sent a message back that they were entertaining, so I landed secretly outside the property limits and walked the rest of the way.

When I walked into the house and entered the living room, I froze.

Tony Stark was sitting on our couch, talking amicably with Ma and Pa.

As soon as I entered, he turned towards me. "Well hello Superman! Nice for the Man of Iron to finally meet the Man of Steel."

From the Twinkle in his eye, I could tell he was joking, but he wasn't the only one in our house.

Next to him, was Natasha fucking Romanoff, in the guise of Natalie Rushman, PA to Tony Stark. Her eyes were narrowed slightly in appraisal.

Fuck.

Suddenly, Lexi came thundering down the stairs, rushing past Tony without a second thought on her way to the tv. "Guys! You've gotta see this!" She shouted, flicking on the news.

"A giant pink monster made of what appears to be Crystals is attacking New York! It seems to be absorbing the surrounding energy, as all technology that comes into contact with the beast is seemingly drained dry, thwarting most military efforts. We can only hope for superhero intervention, as everyone is desperately hoping against nuclear response. Only time will tell if—"

""I Need to go."" Both Tony and I said in unison.

Natasha quirked an eyebrow at me, her eyes flicking between me and Tony.

Double fuck.

I cleared my head. That didn't matter right now. That 'monster' attacking New York sounded suspiciously like a friend of mine. Which meant I needed to stabilize her before she gets killed by someone who doesn't know that there is a human in there!

I needed to leave ASAP.

I'd deal with the fallout later.

Aaaaand that's a wrap.

Sorry if this one was a little dry, I wanted to ad more POVs, but I also didn't want ant to spend multiple chapters on what was basically just 'the Kent's make a fuckton of money and use it to improve their lives and also help people"

More info on Rogue and her side next time, as well as some Tony POVs, and a Superman Iron Man team up, which I'm looking forward to.

Sorry the events of Iron Man happened off screen, but I didn't really see a reason to change them from the original movie.

This chapter also contains one of my first attempts at writing romance, and I'm not sure how it came out. It's not super romantic ironically enough, but I wanted to establish Clark as interested in relationships, just unsure how to proceed on starting one, and feeling awkward about dating anyone he knew as a kid. Idk. How did y'all think it came out? Too awkward? Was it out of place? I want to be flexible in my skill as a writer, but I don't want it to feel shoehorned in or forced. Honestly I'm not so sure about this chapter as a whole, but I don't know how I could've made it better. Any advice?

I know things look bad for Rogue but I promise you guys, this too shall pass. I'm not just torturing her for no reason.

Anyway I'll see y'all next time!

Ciao!