Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Clark woke in panic, gasping for breath. His eyes flew open to a room bathed in dim red light. Lifting his head carefully, he scanned his surroundings, lingering on a few disturbingly familiar features: a well stocked bookshelf; a brown leather armchair; four glass walls, surrounded by nothing but darkness...

His heart raced as an uncomfortable recognition settled in. It looked just like...

But... how?

Drawing in slow, ragged breaths, he tried to steady his fear. Wherever he was, he needed to focus. To remember...

Clark pulled at his dangling threads of memory, until those last few moments of consciousness unspooled, a wild flurry of images tumbling through his minds eye. He saw the soldiers determined faces. Remembered his own desperate pleas for reason. Re-lived the pain of kryptonite bullets slamming into his shoulder, and the dismayed helplessness that followed. 

Anderson. 

The General had betrayed him. Ambushed him. Shot him. 

He tried to sit up, anger flaring inside him, but he was immediately halted by pain. His hands flew to his side as he froze, wincing sharply. Apparently he hadn't been able to heal while he'd been unconscious. His ribs felt achingly bruised, muscles tight and sore, but he continued to force himself upright anyway, swinging his legs over the side of the small cot bed he'd been placed on.

He was at a DOD facility, that much he was sure of.

His cell was almost identical to his brother's. Clark had visited Tal's prison enough times now to have it committed to memory. From the red light filling his vision and his apparent vulnerability, it also seemed safe to assume he was under the influence of red solar lights. 

His powers were completely gone, he could feel it. There were no sounds detectable outside his cell. His vision showed nothing but shadows beyond its walls. He couldn't smash his way out of this with brute force, couldn't fly himself to safety. He was trapped. A prisoner. At the whim of whoever was party to this operation. 

How could the DOD sanction this? 

It had taken him years to gain their trust, but he'd felt secure that had been established. He'd worked hard to prove to them, time and time again, that he wasn't a threat. That he was here to help. That they didn't need to try and control him. 

Had all of that really disappeared the day Sam retired? 

Clark sighed, his head dropping to his chest in resignation. Whatever was going on, his alliance with the agency obviously hadn't been as solid as he'd thought.

As he looked down at himself for the first time, he realised with a sinking wave of discomfort that he wasn't wearing his Superman suit. Instead, we was dressed in a white t-shirt and jump suit pants.

He tried to mentally bypass the image of someone undressing him, but the knowledge refused to be ignored, filling him with disgust. Bile churned in his stomach, his blood boiling with every furious thought.

They'd stripped him, dressed him in prison clothes and shoved him in a cell?

He'd had a lot of run ins with villains in his time as Superman, but no one had ever taken away his dignity.

Not like this. 

His fists clenched the side of the cot bed beneath him, knuckles turning white as he struggled to contain his outrage. 

'Ah, Superman, you're awake.' 

Clarks eyes darted upward at the sound of Anderson's voice. He traced it to a speaker in the top left of his cell. Right next to it was a camera, its red flashing light indicating he was being watched as well as listened to.

He stood up, careful not to do so too quickly in his weakened state, but also trying to appear stronger than he felt. 

'Anderson,' he said, his voice close to a growl. He addressed the camera directly. 'You need to let me out.'

'Actually I don't.'

Clark seethed at the man's satisfied tone. 

'You see, I've been given full command of this operation. Your arrest was sanctioned by General Hardcastle herself.' 

Clark shook his head in disbelief. He'd met the woman more than a few times, and while he knew she wasn't one to shy away from harsh measures where neccesary, it was hard to imagine her agreeing to this. Not without being fed some kind of fabrication of the truth.

'Given that you're actively harbouring a monster who's killed American soldiers, I think the consequences are appropriate.' 

Clark sighed. 'Once I destroy the pendant, I will bring him in so he can stand trial.'

Why wouldn't Anderson just listen to him? All of this was so completely unnecessary... They were on the same side here, they both just wanted to keep people safe, and see justice done, didnt they? 

At least, that's what he'd thought... Now he had to wonder if Sam's replacement was even concerned with justice at all. Or was this more about him saving face, regaining his sense of authority over the man of steel.

'I don't care about a trial,' Anderson responded, confirming Clark's doubts. 'And I don't trust you to keep your word, so... you will tell me where he is.' 

Clark glared stoney faced into the camera, letting his silence speak for him and hoping the man would see his determination.

There was no way he was giving up his doppelganger to Anderson's custody now. If this was how the man was willing to treat Superman, he could only imagine what he'd do to his bizzaro self. 

No trial. No fair procedure. Only vengeance. 

'Fine. You can rot in here,' the man said, his voice dripping with cruelty. 'But when I return, you will give me the location of my suspect.' 

There was a sharp click after Anderson's final words, indicating the line of communication was closed, but Clark called out in frustration anyway. 

'Anderson! There's a greater threat here! Her name is Ally Alston! She's dangerous and she needs to be stopped... Anderson!'

His words elicited no response, and he felt strangely abandoned in the silence. 

Clark shivered. Was he cold? Or had fear caused the unfamiliar trembling sensation... His eyes fell on a v-neck sweater sitting at the foot of the bed, and he reluctantly grabbed it, tugging it on over his head and rubbing his arms for warmth. He sat back down, willing himself to stay calm as he tried to think through his options. 

He just had to stay rational here. 

Okay, he had no clue where he was - the DOD had facilities all over the world - or how long they were going to hold him there. He wasn't even sure how long he'd been gone, but he knew it wouldn't take much for Lois to start raising alarm bells. 

Would Sam be notified of his imprisonment? Would he be able to push for his release?

What exactly were they holding him on anyway? Surely they couldn't legally keep him there without proof of any crime? He doubted that immediately. The DOD had rules, sure, but they often made exceptions where neccesary...

Had refusing to hand over his doppelganger been enough of a line to cross? Would that really have given them reason to treat him as hostile?

Clark sighed again, brushing a hand through his hair as he accepted the harsh truth. He couldn't do anything about it now anyway. Not from in here. All he could do was wait, and hope that his wife and father in law could get him out of there before Anderson took this mess any further. 

He kicked himself for not being more diplomatic with the man over these last few months. He had to admit, he'd not had a great start with Sam's replacement, finding it difficult to transition back to working with someone who had no idea who he really was. Who saw him as an asset, a weapon to be used to American advantage. 

Now the General had convinced himself Superman was a threat. That he was somehow working with the rogue doppelganger who'd attacked his super powered team. The man's paranoia had apparently driven him to hate the superhero he'd once admired. 

Clark dreaded to think what Anderson intended to do when he refused to give up his doppleganger's whereabouts. 

And he knew... he'd be powerless to stop it.

Chapter Text

Lois gazed at the photo in her hand, sadness tugging at her heart. It was from the last fishing trip she and her sister had taken with their dad, back when she was still in college. Things between them had never been perfect… but it was a time when they'd actually managed to take a vacation, like any normal family. Right up until their dad had to leave two days in, of course…

Now, things were so far gone, she wondered if they'd even find themselves in the same room together. She couldn’t believe how far away she’d let Lucy get… how broken their relationship was. Was it really all her fault? Maybe her sister was right. If she hadn’t printed that article, if she’d just tried a little harder to reason with her sister directly…

She heard the front door fly open with a force that startled her out of her thoughts, and she immediately lifted her head in it's direction. Her dad came rushing into the room, the look on his face making her stomach drop.

What was it? Was it Lucy? Had something happened to her?

She dropped the photo, letting it fall absent mindedly to the desk top. 

‘What’s wrong?’

Sam shook his head as though mind reading her first thought.

‘It’s Clark…’ he breathed. 

Lois’ heart started to race. Clark? What about Clark? She hadn’t thought for a second the panicked vibe of his entrance would have anything to do with her husband. Those two words filled her with dread. 

She waited, body rigid, as her dad caught his breath.

‘He’s been arrested for treason,' he explained finally.

Lois' expression remained frozen, the statement so ridiculous she wondered if she’d misheard it. Treason? How could Clark have been arrested for treason?

What the hell was going on?

From the apologetic look on her dad’s face, it had to be the DOD. Was this Anderson’s doing? Lois knew Clark had been having difficulties with the General ever since he'd taken over her dad’s role at the DOD. They were in an ongoing disagreement regarding Clark's bizzaro self, sure... but would Anderson really do something this monumentally stupid.

Whatever his rationale, they had to get Clark out of there. Fast.

Clark felt a wave of relief as he finally heard the thumping of footsteps heading in the direction of his cell.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed, isolated in the dim red light, forced to wait passively for something to happen... it wasn't something he was used to, and he found it harder than he'd thought. As anxious as he was at what the man might do, he was surprised to find the more unbearable feeling was boredom. 

His cell was empty, other than the bookshelf, chair and camping cot. Oh and a bucket in the corner, the purpose of which he didn't even want to even think about yet. He was too agitated to read, so he'd settled for mindlessly pacing back and forth, willing his captor to emerge. 

Clark scrambled to his feet as the footsteps approached, meeting Anderson's eyes with intensity as he and three soldiers strode towards him, stopping just outside his cell. The man held his hands behind his back, soaking in the sight of his de-powered prisoner like a hunter admiring its prize. 

'Where's my suspect?' the General demanded, apparently forgoing any pretence of civil discussion. 

The cold directness unsettled him. It told him Anderson no longer saw him as worthy of any respect, or deserving of any updates about his imprisonment. This was outside of any semblance of due process. There would be no offer of a phone call, no meeting with a lawyer... anything a normal prisoner might be entitled to, was no where on the table. 

Whatever Hardcastle had agreed, for now, he was at the mercy of one man. 

And that man seemed to be enjoying putting him in his place. 

'Where's my suit?' Clark couldn't help but bite back, his jaw tensing as he saw the man's eyes light up in recognition. 

'You'll get it back when you co-operate. Now, last chance Superman...' 

He glanced down at his watch suggestively. 

'I told you to look into Ally Alston,' Clark tried desperately to reason with him. 'If you did, then you know what we're up against.'

'All I want is the thing that killed my team. If you won't tell me where he is voluntarily, I have no choice but to provide... a little incentive.'

Anderson tipped his head towards the soldiers who stood at his side and they launched into motion without question. 

'You kryptonians must have so many secrets' he continued as his men entered the small cell. 'I know my suspects location must be one of them... but I'm sure there are more.' 

Clark briefly broke eye contact with the man as he warily turned to face the three soldiers who were now surrounding him. When the first reached for his arm, he tried to resist, shoving the hand away and stepping back. It was pointless though. His shoulder flared with pain from the kryptonite bullets, aggravating at the smallest movement, and he was simply too weakened by the solar lights and lack of yellow sun to heal. 

Two of the soldiers finally got a good hold on both of his arms, pushing down on his shoulders with so much force he landed painfully on his knees. They held him in place firmly, arms pulled behind his back as the third soldier came closer, holding a circular device out in front of him. Sections of glowing green radiated a familiar agony in his direction, telling him the colour wasn't an unfortunate coincidence. 

'Anderson, dont do this,' Clark shouted, struggling against his captors grip as much as he could.  

He could barely budge their position. All he could do was watch in horror as the third soldier placed the device over his head and clipped it tightly at the back his neck with a click.  

Instantly he could feel the kryptonite burning against the sensitive skin, his blood boiling in the arteries and veins beneath. He gasped, feeling his throat contract as his body screamed at him to get away from it somehow. But he couldnt. He just had to suffer the pain and discomfort helplessly.

'It's very simple, Superman. You tell me where you've hidden my suspect, I'll make the pain stop.'

'I told you... uh... I cant do that. You need to... let me speak to... General Hardcastle,' Clark tried to bargain between wheezing breaths. 

'I told you... I am in command now,' Anderson cut him off sharply, surprising him with the fury behind it. 'You are in no position to make demands, kryptonian.' 

Clark fell silent. That was the second time the man had referred to him by his species, and it was sending a clear message. Whatever had started this, it had become much more personal for Anderson. He seemed to want Clark to suffer. Why? To punish him? To show him who had the real power?

Anderson waited for a long moment, seeming to enjoy prolonging the tension of his lingering threat, before finally holding up a device that resembled an ELT and flipping its red button. 

Even though hed tried to brace for it, the violent onset of pain was too intense to control his bodies response. Clark cried out in panicked agony as what felt like electric kryptonite coursed through his system. His throat was already hoarse by the time he managed to forcefully contain further expressions of pain to low grunts. 

If the soldiers hadn't been holding him upright, he was sure he would have collapsed to the ground. Confined as he was, all he could do was tense his whole body as the searing agony forced its way into every fibre of his being, lighting his nerves on fire. He couldn't think, couldn't breath. He was almost certain if the device continued its assault for too long, he'd inevitably die. There was no way his body could withstand this level of pain indefinitely. 

Clark could just about make out the shadowy movement of Anderson, crouching down to meet his kneeling height as he spoke. 

'Tell me where he is,' he repeated his demand. 'Before the kryptonite destroys you.' 

'You don't... understand... need him... to stop... terrible,' Clark tried to communicate through the blinding pain, but it was impossible to put together a full sentence. 

'I don't care,' came the General's cold response. 'Are you willing to die for him?' 

He couldnt seriously get away with killing him, could he? Taking Superman prisoner was one thing, but how would they explain his death in captivity? 

Yet as he forced himself to meet the General's unwavering gaze, he could see, even through his blurred vision, that the unhinged man wasn't just making empty threats. There was a conviction behind those cold eyes that couldn't be ignored.

In his panicked state, he struggled to think through his options. Obviously he couldn't give Anderson his bizzaro self's real location... he could never forgive himself if he willingly got the man killed, no matter what he'd done. But was it worth the risk to give him a false location and send him on a wild goose chase? To buy Lois and Sam some time to secure his release...

'Enough... enough,' Clark croaked out finally, making his decision. 'He's at 76.2... North Longitude... 100.4 West Latitude...' 

Anderson seemed to hesitate, trying to read his captive's sincerity. 

'Take it... off,' he added desperately. 

Finally Anderson nodded to his men, and the collar was released from around Clark's neck, the soldiers letting go of his arms at the same time. The relief was so overwhelming he fell forward onto his hands and knees, panting for breath as his throat opened fully, allowing desperately needed oxygen to rush in. 

'Thank you,' Anderson said with sickly satisfaction. 'For your co-operation.'

With that, Clark heard the soldiers leave his cell. He could just about make out their outlines retreating across the floor and back into the shadows, grunting with the effort of holding his head up enough to watch their retreat. His spinning vision caused a wave of nausea that he fought to keep from turning into anything more, remembering the bucket in the corner of the room, but wanting to hold on to whatever sliver of dignity he had left. 

Once he was sure they were gone, he allowed his body to simply collapse on his side, wincing from the pressure on his bruised ribs, but unable to do more than roll over slightly. 

He lay on his back, staring up at the darkness above his cell, deciding to just rest and allow his body time to recover. He tried not to think about what Anderson would do once he figured out the co-ordinates were just his old fortress in the Arctic. That his suspect was no where near that location. He couldn't focus on that right now. 

He had to hold on to hope. 

The thought of his tenacious wife stopping at nothing to get him out of there was his only solace as he allowed unconsciousness to swallow him whole. 

Chapter Text

When Clark woke again, there was nothing different about his surroundings. He wasn’t sure whether that was a relief or a disappointment. There was no clock on the wall, no natural light… absolutely no way of orienting himself to the passing of time. How long had it been since he’d given Anderson the false location? How long had it been since he’d first been captured? 

Were Sam and Lois going to burst through those doors any moment and take him home? 

Or was Anderson about to charge in and continue to torture him for information?

The thought made him shudder. 

He was still collapsed on the cold floor of his cell, his body now aching even more than it had before. The sensation of electric kryptonite coursing through him had left his muscles feeling sore and his energy severely depleted despite whatever length of time he’d been asleep. He managed to roll over, pushing himself up onto all fours, before twisting into a sitting position, with his head resting against one of the glass walls. The effort left him needing to catch his breath, and he couldn’t help darting his eyes up to the camera self consciously.

Was someone actually watching him right now? Were they just keeping an eye on him in case he tried to escape, or were they doing something more insidious? Were they studying his movements, examining his behaviours?

The thought made him extremely uneasy and he tried to push it away before it triggered a lifetime of nightmares about scenarios not unlike this. Before he’d been Superman, he’d been a kid who knew he was from another planet. A kid who grew up watching TV shows and movies where the government’s response to an alien crash landing on earth was often some kind of scientific study… 

The fear of what they might do to him if they found out the truth was what had kept him careful as a child, kept him from telling anyone who he really was. Especially when his powers started manifesting and he understood just how dangerous they’d think he was. 

Now… well he’d spent a lifetime curating Superman’s image and reputation, developing relationships with governments and officials around the world, in order to ensure they didn’t see him as a threat. But he knew he was always walking a tight-rope of trust, and there were some who were just itching for an excuse to learn more about him, to understand how his powers worked, how his body differed from humans. 

Had he completely lost that delicate balance? Had he tipped it so far that the DOD might actually succumb to that curiosity?

Clark brought his knees up to his chest, resting his head on his arms as he tried to think through his approach. 

Okay, so if Anderson returned before Lois or Sam got to him… he was going to be pissed. That might even be an understatement. In the man’s muddled view of the situation, Superman was keeping a dangerous murderer from being brought in to the DOD for whatever consequences they saw fit. He would see Superman allying himself with the man who'd killed his team.

To be fair to the man... he could see why it might even look that way. 

Clark knew he had good reason for holding his bizzarro self at Tal’s fortress. He needed to know what he was doing there, what was really going on with Ally Alston and the inverse world. This was so much bigger than Anderson was willing to see, and gaining his doppelganger's trust, negotiating with him to get the full picture… it might be the only way they could get the upper hand over her. 

It might be the only way they could keep everyone safe. 

Still… he wouldn’t be able to keep anyone safe trapped in here… 

His body alerted him to the uncomfortable realisation he needed to relieve his bladder, and he glanced up at the camera again. The red light was still blinking, of course… but he didn’t have a choice, did he? 

He was going to have to use the bucket at some point. May as well just suck it up and get it out of the way now.

He stood up slowly, practically sliding up the glass wall to keep his balance, and then took a tentative step towards the bucket on the other side of the room. When he felt confident his legs weren't going to collapse beneath him, he crossed the small space and positioned himself with his back to the camera as well as he could, gaining as much privacy as possible in the given situation. 

Once he was finished, he headed over to the cot bed, sitting on the slightly more comfortable but still ridiculously thin mattress and looking towards the direction Anderson and his men had come from before. The cell, much like his brother’s, was positioned in the middle of a larger empty floor, with no light coming from any direction. It almost gave the illusion of complete isolation from the world. He couldn’t see an actual door into the space, only shadows that visitors would emerge from. 

He couldn’t just sit there, staring into nothingness, waiting for someone to appear. He needed to do something . Anything that gave him a focus. 

Clark decided to try doing a few push ups, hoping that maybe if he built up his strength, he might be better prepared to seize any window of opportunity to escape. The options were looking pretty slim right now, but who knows what might be coming. 

He dropped to the floor, once again resting on his hands and knees, before tentatively trying to lean forwards. As soon as he put pressure on his injured shoulder, he was hit with an unexpectedly sharp pain that took him so violently by surprise that he fell, just managing to twist to his side and avoid landing face first. 

He lay there for a moment, feeling defeated, his bruised ribs once again complaining at the position he’d landed in. The presence of despair started to push into his awareness, and he fought to keep it at bay. He couldn’t give up, not now, not ever. He needed to get home to his wife, to his sons. He needed to get out of there and make sure the world was kept safe. 

Okay, so he had to keep off of that shoulder for now. That didn’t mean he couldn’t do anything . He just needed to be more careful. 

He forced himself up on all fours again, determined to try again, even if he could only manage one handed push ups. 

Groaning with the effort, he slowly managed one rep, then two… the strength he was still able to access gave him some reassurance his body might be more resilient than it seemed. He might not have his powers… but he wasn’t completely beaten.

Not yet.

Lois hung up her phone, gripping it tightly in her hand as she struggled not to throw the damn thing against the wall. 

She’d been calling everyone she could think of all morning, all of her sources that were usually somehow mysteriously aware of any secret operations. 

She was just trying to find out whether anyone knew anything… but so far, there was a big fat nothing . 

Of course, she was having to be pretty vague with her questions… She didn’t want to give them information about Superman that they didn’t already have. Who knows what kind of mass panic it would create once word spread Superman was no longer around. She was sure criminals everywhere would have a field day. 

Instead she’d simply asked if there was any word on the street of an important military arrest. Any whispers of someone being held in a secret location or being questioned in any unorthodox ways. 

She looked up at the clock in the kitchen and then back down at her phone, double checking the time. Where was her dad? He’d left pretty much immediately after he’d told her what was happening, but other than a message to let her know he’d arrived at the DOD, she hadn’t heard from him since last night. It was adding even more pressure to her growing sense of worry. 

‘Mom, you okay?’ Jon asked, surprising her. 

She hadn’t even heard him come into the room. 

‘Yeah, sweetie, I'm just… frustrated,’ she admitted. ‘We’ll get some news soon though, I'm sure of it. They can’t keep this buried for long, and your grandad is on the case.’

Her son looked dubious, but he smiled anyway. It looked somewhat forced, giving her the impression he was doing so more for her benefit than his own. 

‘Yeah, it’s cool. I mean, it’s dad. He’ll be fine no matter what, right?’ 

Lois nodded gratefully at her sons attempt to stay positive, feeling herself calm, his efforts reminding her to do the same. 

There was a lot going on between them right now, and she couldn’t say it was completely insignificant, even with this current crisis taking front and centre in her mind. She was still so appalled with the knowledge that her son had taken X-K, but after their talk last night, she at least was starting to understand some of the reasons why, even though it didn’t make her feel any better about the outcome. 

Still, if he was showing her anything in that moment, it’s that he was still the same Jonathan, still the young man she’d always known him to be. The kid that was always surprisingly calm in a crisis, that tended to focus on how he could help everyone else instead of looking at how he felt himself. 

It occurred to her with sad recognition, that might even be part of the problem. 

The sound of heavy footsteps thumping down the stairs made them both turn their heads towards the kitchen entryway, and Jordan appeared suddenly, looking flustered. 

‘I can hear grandad getting into his truck,’ her other son reported. ‘He sounds pretty pissed… like, there were a lot of swear words I'm not going to repeat.’

Lois sighed, knowing that meant he’d likely had no luck changing anyone's mind or even getting in to see Clark.

‘What about dad?’ Jon asked.

Jordan shook his head. ‘Nothing. I can’t even hear anyone talking about him. Wherever they’ve taken him, they must have the place locked down with sound proofing or something.’

Lois felt her fists clenching as she stared at her phone, waiting for her dad’s inevitable call. 

No matter what he said, she knew she was going to have to do something more drastic herself. She wasn’t just going to sit around at home while her husband was in Anderson's custody, having god knows what done to him. If he really did want Clark to give up his doppelganger's location… well, she knew her husband well enough to know he wasn’t going to cave easily.

He’d have to be pushed right to the edge of what he could tolerate before he’d submit. 

Footsteps thundered towards him, echoing loudly across the room, sounding much more forceful this time. 

Clark stood up quickly, keeping his arms at his side, trying to look as innocent and compliant as he could. He knew the best chance he had of getting out of there was to appear like he was co-operating. To seem like a model prisoner, even given all the circumstances. 

To let Anderson think he was submitting to his authority. 

‘You lied to me,’ the man barked across the room before he’d even come into view.

Once he stepped out of the shadows, Clark could see the fury on his face. It was almost enough to make him doubt his current strategy. 

‘I didn’t…’

‘Don’t waste your breath Superman,’ Anderson cut him off, shaking his head in disgust. ‘I know you’ve been communicating with that thing somehow. That you warned him we were coming.’

Warned him… what was he talking about? Clark wracked his brain to make sense of the accusation, but he had no idea what would have brought him to that conclusion. 

‘We found it’s suit,’ Anderson explained, and Clark couldn’t hide the disappointment on his face.

He had no idea how his doppelganger's suit had gotten to his fortress, but it definitely didn't make him look good. He could only assume his bizzaro self had been able to feel the pull of his crystal, that perhaps he'd gone there looking for answers? Whatever had led him there, the evidence he'd left behind definitely complicated things.  

To his dismay, he could see from the satisfied smirk on his captor’s face that he’d mistakenly taken his reaction as further proof that he was right. 

‘How are you doing it?’ he demanded. ‘Is it some kind of telepathy? Are you able to reach him somehow, even from in here?’ 

‘Anderson, it’s not what you think…’ he tried to defend himself, but what exactly was he supposed to say? 

At this point, he wasn’t sure what would make the man angrier - that he’d given him what he thought was a false location, or that he’d given him the right location but somehow let his counterpart know they were coming?  

‘I don’t care what justification you think you have. I don’t care about your Ally Alston conspiracies or your faulty sense of loyalty to whatever that thing is. My people are dead ! And you are going to help me put that right.’

‘Just let me speak to General Hardcastle,’ Clark tried to negotiate. ‘If you bring her down here, I’ll give her all the answers I can.’

Whether she'd really signed off on his arrest or not, he was sure she was more in her right mind than Anderson. If he could just talk to her, there had to be some kind of compromise they could come to here. Their years of working together had to count for something. 

'You know, I really hoped you’d chosen to go about this the less painful way, but this little stunt just proves you are simply too arrogant, that you’ve been given too many free passes over the years… well not anymore. I told you earlier… you will lead me to him, one way or another.' 

‘Look, I don’t know what you think is going on here, but we’re still on the same side. You don’t have to do this. We can still work together.’

'You’ve made your choice Superman. If you won’t give up that thing’s whereabouts willingly, we’re just going to have to give you a more compelling reason…’

Clark tensed at the man’s vague threat, falling silent as he recognised his pleas were falling on dead ears. 

‘See the thing is, when I took over from Sam, I was let in on a few of your little secrets. Delicate matters I might use to my advantage…' 

The General’s suggestive words froze him to the spot, his eyes searching the other man’s for any sign of what he knew. There was no way Sam would have left any record of his true identity, right? That couldn’t be what he was talking about…

'Like how many people know you're actually extremely sensitive to certain frequencies of sound?' 

Clark let out the breath he’d been holding, feeling some relief before he processed the implications of Andersons knowledge. Suddenly he felt even more nervous. If the DOD had developed some kind of sound tech, he was in big trouble. He remembered the last time he was incapacitated by a sound weapon all too well. Killgrave's assault of his senses had completely thrown his equilibrium out of whack, knocking him off his feet and rendering him pretty vulnerable… and that had only been from a few seconds of exposure at a time. 

'I am only going to ask this once, and if you even think about sending a warning to your friend this time, I promise I will make you suffer in ways you're too idealistic to even conceive of...'

‘What do you want?’ Clark asked. 

‘I want to know where he is.’

Clark gritted his teeth in frustration, aware he was likely in an impossible position, but still feeling reluctant to give his own prisoner up. If he could be certain Anderson wouldn’t kill him… 

But he could see from the predatory anticipation behind Anderson’s eyes… that was exactly what he was going to do, as soon as he got his hands on him. 

‘I don’t know where he is now,’ Clark lied. 

Part of him knew it was foolish, that he’d regret it. Part of him knew the General could see through his pathetic attempt to deny it. But he had to at least try. 

Anderson shook his head, looking up towards the camera in the cell.

‘Do it,’ he said with cold finality.

And then it started. The high pitched frequency emanated from the small speaker so loudly he was surprised Anderson himself wasn’t affected by it. It filled every corner of the small cell, nowhere for him to retreat for any kind of relief. 

Clark’s hands immediately flew up to cover his ears, unable to even hear his own screams of agony as the frequency attacked his sensitive ear drums. The pain travelled down from his ears, into his neck, his shoulders… moving through his nervous system like razor blades. He fell to his knees again before collapsing completely, his body writhing uselessly on the floor. 

After what was probably only a full minute of exposure to the sound, it was finally shut down, and Clark felt a gargled groan of relief leave his lips.

He tentatively pulled his right hand away from his ear, feeling something wet dripping down his neck. He touched his fingers to the liquid and brought them out in front of him, startled to see a dark colour he could only assume was his own blood in the dim red light. 

Anderson crouched low again, leaning in close to the glass. 

‘Have you had enough yet?’ he whispered cruelly. 

Clark rolled over, pushing himself up slightly to meet his captor’s gaze. His eyes were watering from the shock to his system, but he blinked back the tears as he responded. 

‘I can’t give you what you want,’ he wheezed, too exhausted to manage another lie but still determined not to give in.

Surely the man had to give up eventually. If he could just hold out long enough, Anderson would realise he wasn’t going to give him anything, and he’d stop his assault before it killed him. He had to, didn’t he? What good was he to him if he was dead? 

Anderson rolled his eyes, waiving at the camera once again, and Clark braced himself for the next round of assault.

Unbelievably, it was even worse the second time. His senses were now so raw, it was like rubbing salt and lemon into a wound. He found himself back on the floor, his body convulsing as the frequency tore through him, his muscles contracting painfully. He could feel the sensation of nausea begin, intensifying rapidly until he was sure he was going to throw up, and as much as he tried to fight it, he knew he was about to lose control. 

With all the strength he had left, he managed to roll back on to his front, lifting himself on to all fours just before his stomach ejected it’s minimal contents and he threw up on the cell floor.  

The sound finally stopped, his body dry heaving a few more times, before finally he fell back onto the cell floor again, this time so lifeless he felt his head thud to the floor as it flopped back weakly.

His vision swam and he closed his eyes, dimly aware that Anderson was yelling something at him, but thankful to feel the pull of unconsciousness coming for him once more. 

He leaned into it, accepting its promise of escape from any further pain.

Chapter Text

‘Hey, Superman, wake up.’

Clark heard a woman’s soft voice tugging him out of unconsciousness. His eyes fluttered open, confused by the unexpected sound and the awareness he was now back on the cot bed.

The red lights still filled his vision, confirming he hadn't been moved from his cell, but there was someone else in there with him. A young woman’s face hovered over him, expression full of concern. She had dark black hair, tied neatly beneath a military cap, and she wore the standard camo shirt and pants he’d seen so many DOD soldiers sporting. 

He eyed her warily as he pushed himself slowly into a sitting position, noticing the way she bit her lip at his nervous movement. If he wasn't mistaken, she seemed wracked with guilt. 

‘It’s okay,’ she reassured him in a hushed whisper. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ 

‘Who are you?’ Clark asked, his croaky voice reminding him of how hoarse he was from screaming.

Or was he thirsty? He wasn’t even sure how to tell. He’d never actually been thirsty before. Still, from the dry, cracked feel of his lips, he was pretty sure that had to be part of it. 

As if noticing his dehydration herself, the woman reached behind her suddenly and pulled out a small flask, gesturing for him to take it. He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether he could trust whatever was inside wasn’t drugged or poisoned. 

‘It’s just water,’ she assured him. 

Still not 100% convinced, he decided to take the gamble and trust her. Without his powers, he knew he would need to keep himself hydrated if he wanted to survive, and he had no idea when he’d next get the opportunity. Anderson didn’t exactly seem that interested in providing him with any basic human needs.

He took a sip, and it immediately agitated his throat, making him cough and splutter. Still, the feel of the cold liquid on his lips was wonderfully refreshing. He allowed himself to cough a few more times before willing his throat to settle and lifting the bottle to his mouth to try again. Once he’d drained the rest of the water in the bottle, he handed it back to her gratefully.

‘Thank you,’ he said quietly, sighing with relief. 

He had no idea who was listening, but he assumed the woman's own lower volume meant they should be careful. His eyes flickered up to the camera in the corner, and he was surprised to see it’s red light was no longer blinking back at him. Someone had turned it off. 

Was it her?

‘Look, I don’t have much time,’ she said in a hurry, handing him a fairly squished sandwich wrapped in cling film. ‘I just wanted to bring you this, and to let you know not everyone here is okay with what Anderson is doing.’ 

‘Did Hardcastle really sign off on this?’ Clark asked.

The woman nodded solemnly. ‘Sort of. I think. It seems like she gave Anderson the go ahead to arrest you… but I don’t think she knows what he’s doing down here.’

‘Can you get a message to her?’

She shook her head, and Clark fought to hide his disappointment. 

‘That’s the problem. Anderson’s put this place on lock down. We’re not even authorised to leave the building ourselves, and we’re not even allowed to contact our own loved ones outside of supervised phone calls. Most of the soldiers here… i’ve never even met before. It looks like Anderson brought them in from his old platoon. They are pretty loyal to him. I’m not sure who to trust.’ 

Clark sighed, noticing the woman’s nervous energy and feeling pulled to somehow reassure her. From the sounds of things, she was almost as much of a prisoner here as he was… though maybe in less immediate danger. 

‘Don't worry. People will be looking for me by now, and when they come…’ 

‘I don’t know if there’s enough time for that…’ she cut him off in an urgent whisper, her vague words carrying ominous meaning. 

He swallowed anxiously. What did she know that she wasn't telling him? What was Anderson going to do next?

Suddenly she looked around self consciously, backing away from the cot bed and towards the door. ‘I.. I have to go. I’ll do what I can, I promise, but I have to get back to my station.’

‘Wait… just… what’s your name?’ he asked. 

‘Sullivan,’ she told him, her voice almost too quiet to hear from across the cell. 

‘Thank you, Sullivan.’ 

She nodded bashfully, before ducking quickly out of the cell and across the floor, disappearing into the line of shadows. 

Clark let his head fall back against the cell wall, sighing as he took in the new intel. Wherever he was, it was isolated. There was no contact in or out of the place that wasn’t controlled by Anderson. Did that mean… would Sam even know he’d been arrested? 

No, he couldn’t think like that. He had to assume someone in the chain of command would have notified his previous handler if something this big had happened. Sam had been head of the DOD for too long not to have enough friends in high places that would be aware of this. 

They’d find their way to him somehow. 

Lois would find a way. 

She always did. 

Clark pictured his wife and sons, heart aching at the thought of the worry they must be experiencing. He hated that they were having to go through this, hated that his life as Superman was always causing his family so much distress. 

He just needed to hold it together long enough for them to be reunited, and then he’d figure out a way to make damn sure this could never happen again. 

His stomach growled urgently, and he realised just how hungry he actually was. A thought occurred to him, and he scanned the floor briefly, confirming that someone must have been allowed in to clean up his vomit. There was a faint hint of bleach in the air and the grey tiles looked as immaculate as ever.  

He sighed gratefully, hating to think how much worse he’d feel if he’d been stuck with the unpleasant smell. Quickly, he peeled the cling film off the squashed sandwich and finished it off in just a few bites, before balling the thin plastic up in his fingers. He eyed the camera carefully, confirming the red light was still not blinking, before quickly slipping the evidence of his meagre lunch under the thin mattress. 

He didn’t want Sullivan’s kindness getting her in any trouble. 

It seemed like he’d moved just quickly enough, as only a minute later he noticed the blinking red light return, his big brother style observation continuing once again. 

It wasn’t much, but he tried to take solace in the knowledge there was at least one person in the building who wasn’t going to just let him starve to death at least. That there might even be more they could do to help him. Maybe they even could find a way to get word out, somehow. 

He closed his eyes, deciding to try and rest while he still could. 

If what the young woman had said was true, whatever Anderson was going to do next was going to take as much strength as he could get. 

‘What do you mean, he’s not there?’ Lois yelled at her dad, unable to control the force of her anger. 

She was just glad the boys had given up arguing and gone to school. At least they werent here to see her losing it. As hard as it was to convince them into it, she knew they needed to be somewhere safe right now, somewhere where there was enough distraction around, so they wouldn’t just be dwelling on worst case scenarios.

Her  dad seemed unphased by her volume, too concerned about her to be worried about how she was expressing herself. 

‘They’re holding him somewhere…classified. Apparently Hardcastle is the only person outside of Anderson’s team that knows his exact location.’ 

‘So where’s Hardcastle? Why are we not kicking down her door?’ 

‘Pumpkin, I know this is hard, but we’ve got a much better chance of getting them to listen to us if we try and stay just a little bit diplomatic,’ her dad tried to reason with her.

But she was beyond reason. The more time passed, the more she was starting to cross over into mad dog lane territory.

‘Diplomatic?’ she practically screeched. ‘They’ve arrested Superman. There’s no way they could have done that without weakening him somehow, which means they either used red solar lights or kryptonite on him. Or both! There’s nothing diplomatic about any of this!’

‘I know,’ her dad sighed, misplaced guilt crossing his features. 

Or was it even misplaced. Had he known there was some kind of protocol for this? Had there always been a plan for how to subdue her husband if he refused to give up something the military wanted from him?

‘Did you know this would happen?’ she demanded. 

He shook his head. ‘Of course not, don’t you think I would have warned you both if I knew there was something like this on the cards? I thought Anderson was a good man. I thought he was the best person to take over and work with Clark. His record showed he admired him, spent a long time studying his career with the DOD. He knew more about him than any other officer.’

Ah, so that was the guilt. He was blaming himself for giving the lunatic who’d captured Clark the thumbs up. 

‘Yeah well, you know what they say… never meet your heroes,’ Lois spat back sarcastically.  

Sam sighed. ‘Look, I know asking you to be patient is like asking a wild horse to slow down, but we don’t have any other choice right now other than to play their game. We need to speak the DOD’s language, go about this through the right channels. Otherwise, we might end up making it worse.’

‘Fine,’ Lois conceded through pursed lips. ‘What do you suggest?’

She watched her dad’s shoulders visibly relax, letting go of the tension they'd been holding, and she tried to soothe her fury. She knew he was doing everything he could to help, she just… hated being unable to take any action herself. 

‘I haven’t been able to get through to Hardcastle by phone, but I know where she lives. I’m going to head over there and try and sort this out face to face,’ he explained.

Lois didn’t need to hear anymore. She strode across the room, grabbing her jacket from the coat rack and reaching straight for the door. 

‘Pumpkin…’ her dad started to protest, and she simply raised her eyebrows at him, her death glare communicating more than words.

He shook his head, sighing again and waving her through the door. There was no point arguing with her. He knew all too well, when Lois Lane set her mind to something, there was no stopping her. 

Clark had managed to slip into a kind of meditative state for a while. It was a skill his kryptonian father - or at least the holographic consciousness of him - had taught him. A way of focusing your energy on healing, of grounding yourself in times of distress. 

He couldn’t say it was waving a magic wand and making all his troubles disappear, but it did seem to be helping. At the very least, he was managing to keep his breathing and his heart rate even as he waiting in the isolated silence.

A set of single footsteps alerted him to someone's incoming presence, and he twisted his body round, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, only this time not bothering to stand. 

If he was about to endure more pain, he might as well remain where he would be the most comfortable if he collapsed again. 

‘Don’t worry, no need to get up,’ Anderson drawled. ‘This won’t take long.’ 

‘What do you want?’ Clark spat back. 

‘I believe I've been pretty clear about what I want.’ 

‘And I've told you already… I'll speak to Hardcastle. I'm not giving you anything until you bring her down here.’ 

‘That's not happening,’ Anderson responded, the words sounding eerily final. ‘But don’t worry, my lab experts have been hard at work and they've finally perfected a more efficient method of extracting the truth from insolent kryptonians.’

Clark could feel his body shiver at the mention of a lab. What was he talking about? What was he going to do to him?  

Before he could ask any of his questions out loud, he noticed green smoke seeping into his cell from vents all around him. 

He felt his panic rising again as the gas drifted higher, already irritating his nose & throat. It felt similar to the gas he’d encountered back in 7734, when Rosetti had tried to abduct John Henry from DOD custody.

'Anderson, please, whatever you think you have to do… you’re going to far. There's no way you’re going to get away with this!’

Anderson simply smirked in response.

'Oh don’t you worry about that. Just breath deep Superman. When you wake up we'll have a bit more of an honest heart to heart over in the lab.’ 

Clark felt his throat tighten and his stomach churn, both at the kryptonite gas invading his body and the mention of being taken to a lab. 

He succumbed to what felt like an endless painful coughing fit, struggling to breath as the kryptonite seeped into his lungs, until finally, his consciousness flickered out once again. 

Chapter Text

When Clark came to, he realised he was laying on a hard metal surface this time. He could feel the uncomfortable sensation of metal shackles holding his wrists and ankles tightly in place. A strong chemical smell filled his nostrils, almost making him gag, and from the tingle of cool air against his bare chest, he could tell his shirt and sweater were missing.

His eyes flew open when he felt a hand softly touch his arm. 

Anderson hovered over him, eyes looking him up and down like he was taking in the beauty of his own work of art. He felt the man’s hand gripping his arm more tightly as he tried to move away from his touch.

Clark struggled harder, pulling against his restraints, feeling his fury rising once again. Even after everything he’d already done, he still hadn’t believed Anderson was capable of this level of cruelty. He was a decorated military officer… how could he have descended so far into depravity? 

Not to mention the actions of the doctors and soldiers under his command, who seemed to be following his orders without protest or question. 

Had he ever really been able to trust anyone at the DOD? Or had some of them always been secretly hoping they had a chance to tear him down, just waiting for Sam to step aside and be replaced by someone less… accommodating. 

‘You know, when you take away the flashy suit and the powers… you’re really not so impressive,’ Anderson leered at him. 

‘Let. Me. Go,’ Clark spat back, his voice as threatening as he could manage. 

What he wouldn’t give to have even the faintest hint of heat vision light up behind his eyes, giving his empty demand some kind of weight. 

Instead his captor simply scoffed.

‘No,’ he said coldly. ‘You see, my team here at the DOD have been making use of some of the resources my predecessor stupidly abandoned. You remember 7734, don’t you?’

Clark couldn’t hide the recognition on his face. He’d suspected Anderson had somehow gained access to the  stock of kryptonite tech and weapons as soon as he’d seen the gas creeping into his cell, but it was still uncomfortably real to hear him say it. It was supposed to be safe in John Henry’s hands, with no one else able to authorise access. He hoped that didn’t mean his friend had been hurt or worse…

Clark kicked himself for not agreeing to Sam’s initial suggestion that they should simply destroy all of it. 

‘Of course you do, you had a bit of an altercation with one of your brother’s drones down in the lab if I remember correctly. So you know that we were on the brink of perfecting a wide variety of kryptonite infused weapons and drugs.’

Clark caught sight of movement to his left, and he turned swiftly to see a nervous looking doctor walking over to him. He was dragging along what looked like an IV bag attached to a metal railing. 

The man refused to look in his direction, seemingly too ashamed to look his unwilling patient in the eyes. Instead he busied himself with ripping open an antiseptic wipe and cleaning the crook of Clark’s free arm. 

They were going to inject him with something. 

The knowledge filled him with fear, and he pulled futilely against his restraints again, refusing to let them stick a needle in him without putting up at least something of a fight. 

‘Superman, please, this is embarrassing,’ Anderson mocked cruelly.

He leaned in uncomfortably close so that Clark could feel the sensation of the man’s hot breath against his cheek.

‘Just accept your position here. You have lost. I have won. In a few seconds, you will be hooked up to a truth serum and I will know all the secrets you have.’

Clark just glared back at the man defiantly, but his mind raced with panic. Would it really work on him? Would he be helpless to prevent himself from telling the truth? He knew it would only take one slip of the tongue to end up putting his family in danger by revealing his secret. Would he be able to stop himself from blurting something out he could never take back?

He couldn't prevent his breath from hitching slightly as Anderson suddenly placed a hand gently on his chest, lingering there like he was enjoying feeling his heart pounding beneath. 

The gesture was so soft it was almost… intimate. He felt his heart rate rising, both from the disturbingly gentle contact, and the knowledge that he was about to be exposed to some kind of experimental kryptonite infused drug. 

'Such a waste, really' Anderson said almost wistfully.

The General's eyes flickered down to the hand on his chest, and Clark watched with disgust as the man let his fingers stroke back and forth over his skin, looking almost hypnotised, like he was caught up in a moment of tempting thought. 

Finally, he broke himself free of whatever spell he was under, stepping back suddenly like he was intentionally creating distance between himself and the source of his temptation. 

‘It’s only a matter of time, Superman,’ he said loudly, like he was reestablishing control of himself. ‘Soon we’ll know for sure whether you really are as truthful as you claim to be; or whether you’re hiding any little… secrets.’

Clark couldn’t hide his obvious discomfort at the man’s disturbing behaviour, but he tried to ignore it for now, deciding to instead focus on the person in the room he had way more chance of reasoning with. 

‘Please, you have to stop what you’re doing,’ he said to the doctor who was bringing a needle slowly closer to his arm.

He had no idea whether the metal would even puncture his skin in his de-powered state or not. He’d never been in a position to test that theory before.

‘I know you think you have to do what he says, but you have a choice here, you always have a choice,’ Clark pleaded with the man. ‘You can still do the right thing.’

He could see the doctor hesitate, wincing at his words. There was obviously some moral conflict within him. For a moment, Clark wondered if there was even a tiny chance he might actually have gotten through to him.

‘Proceed Doctor,’ Anderson barked from the end of the table, and the man jumped in his skin, moving swiftly back into action in a way that suggested he was acting more out of fear than loyalty.

Clark could only watch in horror as the doctor pressed the needle against his skin. With barely any resistance at all, it slipped beneath the surface with a sharp pinching sensation. A tiny drop of blood seeped out of the wound, and the doctor dabbed at it with a ball of cotton wool before covering the needle over with a small piece of medical tape.

Whatever was in that IV bag, was now slowly making its way into his system. 

Anderson crossed his arms, leaning on a table behind him as though settling in to watch some kind of show. At first, Clark felt no different, hoping desperately that maybe the drug they’d concocted would have no effect on him. But after a few seconds, those hopes began to erode.

It started with a fuzzy feeling at the base of his neck, that slowly started to move through him, making his skin feel hot and itchy. His racing heart began to slow, and a strange sort of calm, soothing sensation washed over him.  After a full minute, everything around him had begun to slow down too, creating a kind of dream-like sensation. It almost left him wondering if he hadn’t passed out again.

As though moving towards him in slow motion, he saw Anderson getting closer, saying something he couldn’t make out. The man’s voice was muffled, like he was trying to speak to him through a fishbowl.

For reasons he couldn’t begin to explain, Clark started to laugh.

Lois spotted the busted open front door immediately. 

Hardcastle lived in a pretty affluent neighbourhood in Metropolis, where most of the houses had extra security measures in place. It was hard to believe a high ranking General in the DOD like her wouldn’t have had her home fortified with some kind of high tech measures against intruders. 

But maybe this intruder had the means to find out her security systems codes. Maybe Hardcastle hadn’t expected the attack to come from someone within the DOD itself…

Lois felt the hairs on her arms stand to attention, knowing there was no way this wasn’t bad news. 

They took the few steps up to the entrance before Sam abruptly halted her. She rolled her eyes as her father lifted his fingers to his lips, indicating she should stay quiet. 

Right, like she was about to go running inside, screaming like an idiot. 

He pulled a gun from behind his back that must have been tucked into his belt, and led the way with it raised in front of him.

The place was a mess. Anything that could be smashed had been smashed. Even the sofa pillows had been torn into shreds, feathers and fabric strewn about the floor. Whoever had done this had at least wanted to make it look like a robbery. 

Lois' stomach turned as she took it all in, dreading what they might find as they crept further into the house. She trained her hearing, desperate to pick up on any signs of life in the home. Maybe they’d hear a voice busily reporting some kind of break in at her home.  Maybe they’d just pick up the sound of running water, indicating someone was in the shower and hadn’t been aware of anything amiss. 

Anything that would let them know Hardcastle was alive and well. 

She knew it was a foolish hope, even before the women's lifeless legs came into view. 

Her father’s face fell immediately, swearing and shaking his head in despair as he bent down to check the woman’s pulse. Her skin was drained of any colour, and her eyes were frozen open, still as glass. She looked like she’d been gone for a while, so it was no surprise when her dad turned back to her, shaking his head solemnly. 

Lois had unfortunately seen more than her fair share of bodies before. It wasn’t part of every journalist’s daily playbook, but she did seem to have a habit of chasing down the most harrowing stories Metropolis had to offer. In fact, she was often a direct part of them, right in the middle of the action. 

This was different though. 

From her dad’s pained reaction to the sight of the woman he’d worked alongside for decades lying dead on her bedroom floor; to the sinking knowledge of what this meant for her husband’s safety… she found herself feeling suddenly, urgently sick. 

Dashing into the little en suite bathroom to her left, she heaved a few times, letting a pool of bile evacuate from her stomach. As she caught her breath, wiping her mouth with a bit of tissue paper, she felt suddenly grateful she’d not yet eaten anything that day. 

‘Lois,’ her dad called out softly behind her. ‘Are you okay.’

‘I’m fine,’ she said with frustration, though it was more with herself than her dad. 

Pull it together Lane , she scolded herself. She needed to be stronger than this if she was going to figure this thing out. 

Clark needed her to be stronger than this. 

‘I’ve contacted Hardcastle’s superior,’ he told her. ‘He’s sending a team over right away.’

She stood up shakily, her mind spinning with all the ways this changed her sense of the worst case scenarios here. 

It had to be Anderson. It was too big of a coincidence not  to be. They knew Hardcastle was the only one who had knowledge of what he was doing… and now she was dead. 

If he was capable of this… who knows what he was capable of doing to her husband. 

‘We should call John Henry,’ she said suddenly, reaching for her own phone, but pausing when she felt another wave of nausea and letting her hand fly to her stomach.

‘Why don’t we get some fresh air first,’ her dad offered, before gently guiding her out of the room.

She conceded, letting herself be led outside, not missing the way he  deliberately positioned himself as they moved. He was obviously trying to shield her from another view of Hardcastle’s corpse, and for once, instead of feeling annoyed, she felt grateful. 

Once they were back outside, she turned to her dad, his eyes as wide and stunned as she knew her own must be. 

‘Call John Henry,’ she repeated, her muddled mind still managing to pull together parts of a plan of action. ‘And can we get hold of records of DOD facilities? Anywhere in the world, all of them…’

‘I can, but Lois… we aren’t just talking a handful of locations here,’ Sam explained dubiously. ‘There are thousands of buildings, some of them so shrouded in secrecy I wouldn’t have a clue how protected they are. Almost all of them lined with lead.’ 

Lois gritted her teeth at the knowledge the DOD had probably done so to make sure they could still keep secrets from the Man of Steel when they needed to. Clark must have known, but he’d never mentioned anything. He was so trusting, so accepting of people’s fear of him and the ways they felt they had to protect themselves.

It was that very trust that had likely led to him being captured. 

‘John Henry can still see through lead,’ she pointed out. ‘I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but the sooner he starts looking…’ 

Her dad nodded his agreement. It was clearly the best option they had, at least for now. If they could get John searching from above, then she and her dad could focus on what they could do here on the ground. 

Maybe once the DOD knew of Hardcastle’s demise, her dad’s early attempt to pry some more solid information from his former employer’s would get a bit more traction.

All they needed was a lead, something to give them some idea of where to focus their search.  

She just hoped it wasn’t already too late.

Chapter Text

Clark had never been drunk before, but if he had to guess, he'd say that was at least close to how he felt.  

After his unexpected fit of laughter, he’d felt something hard smack him across the face, but it had only made him feel even less coherent than he was before. His vision swam, and his head flopped forwards as his perception of reality twisted and morphed, like a deep, extremely surreal dream. 

He could hear someone yelling, making crashing sounds to his side, but he couldn’t make sense of any of it. The noises were like a strange orchestra to his kaleidoscope of visuals. He closed his eyes, feeling the pull of unconsciousness again and welcoming it like a warm blanket. 

Instead, he felt a sudden sharp irritation in his nose. 

His eyes flew open, and his vision started clearing immediately. The doctor who’d stuck the needle in his arm was waving a small white packet under his nose, and whatever was inside, the smell was way too intense for his already muddled senses. 

He tried to move his head away, but the doctor followed every direction he moved in, until he was on the brink of crying out, eyes watering, chest tightening. 

Just when he was about to start begging the man to stop, the doctor finally pulled the packet away.

‘He should be more lucid now, Sir,’ he heard him address the other man in the room.

Anderson’s frustrated expression loomed back into view, and Clark’s stomach dropped, his fractured mind starting to come back together. He could still feel the strange fuzzy sensation in his head, but the world was back to normal speed and he was thinking much more clearly. 

‘Okay Superman, let’s start with something easy, shall we?’ the General said, with more haste than before. 

The man seemed impatient, like his prisoner’s initial reaction to the drug had made him worry something else might go wrong if he didn’t complete this phase quickly. 

Clark opened his mouth to object, to try one last time to plead to the man’s reason, but he was cut off by the question he knew was inevitably coming. 

‘Where is my suspect?’

There it was. The words hung in the air, and Clark could immediately feel a powerful pull to respond. With as much determination as he could muster, he stilled his mind, desperately trying not to even think of the location. Instead he tried to picture anything else, anything neutral, afraid that whatever came into his mind would tumble straight out of his mouth. 

He settled on the view from his cell, the dim red light, the cot bed… and as he sank into the memory, he felt his conviction growing stronger. No matter what they’d given him, he was still in control of his thoughts, his inner world. He was still the one in charge of what he chose to say.

‘He’s at my brother’s fortress. In the bad lands.’

The words left his lips before he’d even had any awareness he was speaking. He blinked in stunned surprise, filled with confusion at his complete inability to stop it. 

Anderson’s frustration peeled from his face, replaced by a deeply satisfied smile. Clark could only stare at him dumbfounded, feeling nausea twisting his stomach once again. 

He couldn’t believe he’d just said that. 

After everything he’d been through so far, all the pain he’d endured to keep his bizzarro self from falling into Anderson’s clutches… and then he’d just given him everything? Just like that? 

Shame flooded through him as the uncomfortable knowledge settled in. If Anderson murdered his prisoner now, the man’s blood would be on his hands. 

‘Now that’s so much better, isn’t it?’ Anderson said in a sickeningly patronising tone. ‘All you had to do was be honest.’

Clark looked away, too appalled by his current reality and disgusted by the enjoyment the man was getting from it. 

‘Then again, maybe that doesn’t come all that naturally to you. Maybe you’re more adept at lying than anyone realises. You see... I have a theory. I think there's more to you than most of the world sees, parts of you that you try and keep hidden. What do you say, Superman? Am I right?'

He couldn’t hide the panic flooding through him at Anderson’s words, his captor making it clear he wasn’t just stopping there. Now that he had him in such a completely vulnerable state, literally poised to reveal anything the man wanted him too… he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. 

Clark closed his eyes, desperately trying to ignore the man's question, to find somewhere deep inside his own consciousness he could hide, somewhere he could block out any lines of enquiry that might follow.

To his dismay, he could feel himself nodding anyway. 

He couldn’t let this happen, couldn’t let the man prize from him the information that would give him all the leverage over him he’d ever need. 

‘Open your eyes,’ he heard Anderson command, but he wilfully ignored it, seeking to go deeper, to sink as far inside of himself as he could, as far away from the man’s voice as possible. 

But the man wasn’t going to let him get away that easily. 

Once again, Clark felt the unbearable sting of smelling salts enter his nostrils, invading his airways, and he started coughing violently, eyes flying open to blink away the irritation. 

Anderson grabbed his chin, roughly lifting up his head, his predatory eyes boring directly into his. 

‘What secrets are you trying so hard to keep, Superman?’ he demanded. 

Clark could feel tears rolling down the side of his face, unsure if they were a product of the smelling salts or a sign of his growing sense of despair. 

He resisted with everything he had, trying to fortify his mind, exert whatever control he could over his body’s movement. He pressed his lips together as forcefully as possible and gritted his teeth against the rising urge to speak. 

Pressure started building in his skull, sharp pain radiating from his temples and he found himself grunting with the effort it took to hold back. 

‘Tell me!’ the man yelled in his face. ‘What are you hiding?’

Clark refused to even breath, his body trembling as he clenched every muscle, anything to delay what he could feel was coming. His only hope was that maybe he could make himself black out, just force himself into unconsciousness. He was prepared to starve himself of oxygen completely if it meant not giving the man what he wanted… but as hard as he tried to stop it, his body’s automatic survival instincts took over, forcing him to breathe.

As soon as the sensation of air flowing into his lungs hit him, he felt something within him release. Like a damn collapsing under the pressure of an uncontrollable flood. With a gutteral scream, the truth finally burst out of him. 

‘Who I really am,’ he confessed, the force of his words leaving him panting for breath. He could already feel the pressure of more to follow, no energy left in him to stop the cascade of truth. ‘I’ve been hiding my whole life. Hiding my real name. Hiding my family...’

There it was. He’d really said it. He was giving Anderson all the secrets that kept his loved ones safe. 

‘Your family?’ The General asked with fierce curiosity, his eyes lighting up with a new fire of interest. ‘You mean more than just your brother, don’t you?’

Clark nodded, whimpering at the involuntary action. 

‘My wife. And my… sons.’ 

Once that last word was out, despair finally took hold, and Clark knew it was over. There was no longer any point in denying the man had won. He couldn’t pretend he had any hope of taking back control now, couldn’t delude himself into thinking there was a way out of this.  

He’d just given up his children. 

‘You have… sons?’ Anderson gaped at him. ‘How? How is that even possible?’

The man let his chin drop, turning his back to him and taking a few steps away as he processed all the implications of this new information. Suddenly he turned back to face him. 

‘Wait, you said you have another name?’ Anderson questioned, and Clark’s eyes flashed with fear once again, looking around helplessly for anything that might stall the next wave of confession. 

The General smiled even more broadly, clearly enjoying the power he now wielded.  

‘What is it? What’s your name?’

Clark looked away, ashamed by his own cowardice as he avoided meeting the man’s gaze. He just couldn’t take it any more, couldn’t handle the excited flash of recognition he was sure was about to follow. Couldn’t stomach the delighted way his eyes would light up when he understood the full truth. 

When he had that last piece of the puzzle, when he understood exactly why he’d had such a good relationship with the man’s predecessor over the years, why Lois Lane was always allowed in to visit him when he was being treated at the DOD… then Clark would have nothing left to give him. 

Then he’d be truly broken. 

‘Clark Kent,’ he said hopelessly, his heart clenching in his chest.  

He’d never hated himself more. 

‘Jon, Nat,’ Jordan called out down the empty school hallway, picking up his speed as he rushed towards them. 

He’d been listening in to his mom and grandad all day, not even feeling a tiny bit guilty about breaking their no eavesdropping rule. This was different. They’d agreed to their mom’s insane insistence that they needed to go to school, but he wasn’t just going to pretend like nothing was wrong. Like his dad hadn’t been arrested for treason, like he wasnt right now being held against his will. 

Now, from what he’d just heard, it sounded like things were even worse than they’d thought. 

‘Jordan, what’s wrong,’ Jon said immediately, knowing his brother well enough to know when something was up. 

‘It’s mom and grandad,’ he explained. ‘They went to General Hardcastle’s house to talk to her in person but… she’s dead. Hardcastle is dead.’

‘She’s… what?’ Nat responded, her face twisting in disbelief. 

‘This is bad. Really bad,’ Jordan continued, still keeping one ear trained on his mom’s conversation with their grandad. ‘It sounds like they’re getting your dad to just start scanning every DOD building they know about just in case my dad’s in one of them.’ 

‘There’s got to be tones of possible locations,’ Jon said in dismay. ‘And what if he’s somewhere there’s no record of? There must be some other way we can track dad that the DOD don’t know about…’

Jordan nodded, biting his lip. ‘I think I actually have an idea.’ 

Jon and Nat looked over at him expectantly, though maybe a little more surprised than he’d like. Okay, so he could be a bit all over the place emotionally, but he wasn’t an idiot. 

‘You know uncle Tal’s fortress, the one in the bad lands?’ he explained, pausing until they nodded their agreement. ‘I think that’s where dad’s keeping that bizzarro thing.'

Jon and Nat looked at each other dubiously, then back at Jordan. 

‘Okay, but… how can he help us find your dad?’ Nat asked. 

Jon’s eyes widened and Jordan could see he’d clocked on to what he was suggesting. ‘The visions! Dad said it was like a kind of telepathic link. Like he could see what that thing was seeing. If it works both ways, maybe he's seen something that could tell us where dad is.’

‘Exactly!’ Jordan said excitedly. ‘Besides, there’s a hologram of our grandma there too. She controls the kryptonian tech in Tal’s crystal. Maybe she can pick up on his location somehow?’ 

Jordan held his breath as he waited for his brother’s response. 

‘We should talk to mom,’ Jon responded nervously, ‘Maybe John Henry can fly over there and talk to that thing.’

‘I just told you, he’s out looking for dad, we shouldn’t get in the way of that,’ Jordan shot him down. ‘Besides, grandma knows who I am. Dad took me there with Tal when he was having those flashes. It has to be us.’

‘We should still run it by mom first,’ Jon protested, giving Jordan a look of caution. 

Jordan bit his lip, understanding where his brother was coming from. He didn’t want to give his mom anything else to worry about either but… he also knew she’d never knowingly let them go. So what was the point in asking for permission? She’d say no, they’d argue for a while… and by then, who knows what might have happened to their dad. 

‘It’ll take too long,’ was all he managed to voice, but he could see the recognition in his brother’s eyes. ‘Come on, I can get us there in five minutes. We’ll talk to grandma, maybe talk to that thing if it’s really there… any sign of danger and we’ll leave straight away.’ 

Jordan held his breath as he waited for his brother’s agreement, sighing with relief when it finally came.

‘Alright, i’m in,’ he said, still with a hint of reluctance. ‘We just have to be careful.’ 

‘I’m coming with you,’ Nat said with determination. 

Jordan watched Jon open his mouth to protest, he could see from the look on her face she wasn’t going to back down. 

Suddenly he started to doubt himself. Was he even strong enough to carry them both across the country at super speed? He’d never tried something like that before. He just had to hope it wasn’t much different than all the practice runs his dad had gotten him to do with logs out in the back field. 

‘Okay fine, but we have to leave now,’ Jordan insisted. ‘We don’t know how much time dad has left.’

With that, he glanced up and down the empty school hallway, before grabbing them both by the waist and speeding off out of the door.

Anderson burst through the set of double doors, striding with purpose down the dingy hallway of the facility. 

He hadn’t even needed his prisoner to give up the exact coordinates. The DOD had full records of the location in the badlands where Superman had fought Tal-Rho last year. In fact, as soon as he’d said it, he was kicking himself that they hadn’t sent a search team out there already. He’d just been so angry, so focused on the man’s continued deception and his desire to forcibly change it, that he’d foolishly ignored the possibilities right under their noses.

Still, none of that mattered now. 

He had the location of his suspect. Now all he needed was the means to bring him in. 

And once he had justice for his team, he could start the even more satisfying process of exposing the man of steel as the manipulative liar that he was. Along with his predecessor, the man he’d looked up to, General Sam Lane. 

It made him sick to think the man had been complicit in all of this, but there was no doubt about it. Superman, was Clark Kent. And Clark Kent had married his daughter. There was no way in hell he wasn’t in on this.

It made so much sense now. Why he was unable to manage relations with the superhero as well as the former head of operations. Why Superman had been so secretive, so resistant to sharing his honest motivations. 

He was scared of letting Anderson really see him. Scared of showing him his ‘human’ side, giving him any hint of a potential double life. 

Now that he thought of it, Superman was always just a little bit evasive, quick to leave once the action was over. He’d sometimes make an effort to stay and shake hands, smiling and waving for the optics… but no one really knew him. 

Now he truly understood why. 

‘General Anderson, Sir!’ he heard a woman’s voice calling from down the hallway, and he paused, turning to see a young cadet rushing to catch up to him. 

‘Sullivan, what is it?’ 

‘I’ve got the co-ordinates you were asking for,’ she explained breathlessly. ‘For Tal’s fortress in the bad lands.’

‘You could have just told me over the radio,’ he replied through gritted teeth. 

The woman was really starting to get on his nerves. She was constantly asking questions, seemingly finding it harder than any other operative to just fall in line and do her damn job. 

He started back down the hallway, feeling the woman follow him like a puppy nipping at his heels. 

‘I know, Sir, I just… what are you doing down here?’ 

‘They’ve been working together this whole time,’ Anderson told her in a rush as he pushed through another set of doors. ‘These kryptonian’s think they are above us, that they can control us because they have more power. Well not anymore.’

‘But Sir, General Hardcastle…’ the woman tried to protest. 

He spun around furiously, tired of keeping up this pretence of civility.

‘Hardcastle is dead, ’ he shouted, taking small pleasure in her suddenly mouse like transformation. 

‘She was too stupid to listen to me, too loyal to Superman to see the threat he really is. I had no choice. And if I'm going to prove the necessity of my actions to the world now, I have to finish this.’

He charged through the last door, striding into the room that was his intended destination. It was full of metal containers of various sizes, some covered in warning tape, others locked tight with padlocks. 

The only one he needed was sitting right there in the middle of the room, already unlocked from his search of their resources a few days ago. 

‘What are you going to do?’ the woman breathed. 

‘Simple,’ he said, lifting the lid of one of the boxes. 

His face lit up from the orange glow of a tray full of X-K inhalers. 

‘I’m going to kill the bad guys.’

Chapter Text

Sullivan watched the view from inside the small cell, guilt twisting in her stomach at the sight of the man inside.

Superman sat on the cot bed with his back against the wall, knees pulled up as close to his chest as he could in an effort to stay warm, but he was still shivering. She couldn’t believe Anderson refused to even give him back the flimsy t-shirt and sweater he’d been allowed at first.

Whatever had happened in the lab, it had seemingly emboldened the General even more. She had already concluded the man had lost his mind, but the look in his eyes as she’d stopped him in the hallway had confirmed it. He was way too far gone to be reasoned with.

He’d killed General Hardcastle. 

She was still reeling from that revelation. Had the woman even approved any of this?

She lifted her head at the sound of the man next to her snickering to himself, following his gaze back to the monitor. Superman had tucked his head low, and although it was hard to tell in the dim light, she was pretty sure he was crying. Seemed like her unsavoury shift mate had concluded the same.

‘Pathetic,’ the man said with venom, absently cleaning the barrel of his gun as he did so. 

She caught herself frowning at him instinctively, but she tried to wipe the expression away and replace it with something neutral. She didn’t want to end up like the doctor, who’d dared to express any kind of empathy towards their prisoner and was now locked in a cell of his own. She wouldn’t be any use to Superman if she didn’t try and play along, try to fly under the radar. 

‘Yeah, not what you’d expect from the Man of Steel,’ she said, her own words filling her with disgust.

‘No surprise really,’ the man added. ‘The guy was born with a power privilege. He never had to work for it, never endured any pain to earn it. Seems only right that without his powers he’s just a limp nothing.’

She nodded, her heart aching from the urge to set him right.

Sullivan had been a pretty low ranking officer most of her time so far at the DOD, but she’d been a member of Sam Lane’s team long enough to get a sense of Superman’s character. Maybe even more than most, since people had a tendency to ignore her, to underestimate her. If she was busy doing something in a room, they’d often forget she was even there… and that had it’s own advantages.

She’d heard more than a few debates between her old General and the Man of Steel. And what had always stood out to her, what she’d admired the most, was that he never backed down from what he knew was right. The guy wasn’t just your average joe who happened to have powers. There was a strength in him that she’d never seen in anyone, a set of moral convictions that made him the hero he was.

So he was vulnerable enough to cry in the face of whatever suffering he’d just endured… that didn’t make him any less in her eyes. 

Especially since they had no idea what had just happened to him.

‘Man, this is so freaking boring,’ the guy complained, picking his legs up and swivelling his chair.

He was such a child. An arrogant, petulant bully. Most of Anderson’s loyalists were. There were only a few soldiers here at the facility, six to be exact, and four of them were her new General’s ‘special’ picks for this operation. Then there was another guy she’d worked with under Sam, a kid even younger than her called Samson. If she had to guess, Anderson had selected the two of them only because they needed someone who had actually been to this facility, who knew how the equipment worked. 

She was also sure the man thought Samson’s youth and her soft, quiet demeanour would make them easy to intimidate. 

Maybe he was even right…

But the longer this went on, the longer she knew she was going to need to find some strength within her. The same power of conviction she’d witnessed in Superman. 

She needed to do something to stop this. 

Sullivan glanced up at the clock. It was 10:50. They’d be swapping shifts soon, so she didn’t have much time if she wanted to try and take advantage of Anderson’s absence. 

She tried to look nonchalant as she turned to her partner and said, ‘If you wanna head off early and have a smoke, I can handle things here for a few minutes. 

The man looked at her suspiciously, before his face twisted into a wry smile. 

‘I shoulda known you were sweet on me,’ he said, his eyes flashing with desire in a way that made her skin crawl. 

‘Just being friendly,’ she said, walking the line between shutting his interpretation down and not wanting to offend him. ‘I’m sure you’d do the same for me.’

‘Oh, I'd happily exchange favours darling,’ he drawled, locking eyes with her for an excruciatingly long uncomfortable minute.

She tried her best to make her squirming posture look like she was just shy. 

‘Anyway, you ain't gotta tell me twice,’ the man said finally, standing up and holding up his gun suggestively. ‘Just let me know if the alien does anything else worth a laugh.’

‘Will do, Sir,’ she replied, wondering if she was maybe even over doing it with the submissive tone. 

But from the way his smile broadened, it didn’t seem like it. Men like him always did love having their ego stroked, so much so that they didn’t even question where it was coming from. 

She waited until the door was completely closed, watching through the small window until he was definitely down the hall and around the corner. Then she dashed over to the comm controls. First she shut down the camera’s recording function, and then she hit the microphone, clearing her throat ready to speak. 

‘Um… Superman,’ she said nervously.

The man looked up immediately, seemingly shocked to hear her voice coming from the speaker. He didn’t look half as hopeful as he had the last time she’d made contact though.

He opened his mouth to speak, but seemingly thought better of it, his face contorting into a frown. 

‘What do you want?’ he said finally.

Her heart sunk at the bitterness of his tone. It was so unlike him.

‘Look, I don’t have much time… Anderson’s gone. He took a bunch of X-K inhalers and headed out to the bad lands.’

The news seemed to depress him even more. He looked away, shaking his head and muttering what sounded like the words, ‘It’s all my fault.’ 

How was any of this his fault? 

‘Look, I think I can get a message out now Anderson won’t be listening. My shift here in the comms room is up in ten minutes, and… I managed to swipe Anderson’s key card,’ she told him.

She twizzled the card in her hand, still feeling slightly smug about her successful stealthy lift of the item. When Anderson spoke to her in the hallway, he’d treated her like he always did - like she was an irritating, naive busy body. Being underestimated really was an advantage sometimes.  

‘You can call someone?’ Superman asked, and she was relieved to see a smidgeon of hope returning to his face.

‘Yeah. But look, there’s no getting word to Hardcastle,’ she explained. ‘Anderson… he killed her.’

That seemed to set him off into a more agitated state. He slid off the bed, standing up and moving closer to the camera.

‘You have to get a message to Lois Lane,’ he said with determination. 

Sullivan had worked at the DOD long enough to not be completely surprised by the request. She knew the General’s daughter and he were close. Still… did he not want to prioritise someone with a bit more power to stop all of this? 

‘Uh, I don’t know how much time I'm going to have, we should probably get word out to someone higher up the chain…’

‘No,’ he said, even more confidently. ‘Please. Just contact Lois. You have to tell her… tell her he knows. He knows everything.’ 

Superman looked down again suddenly, like he struggling to keep back tides of shame. 

‘He knows everything… okay, but... what does he know?’ she asked curiously.

‘Please,’ he repeated. ‘Just say those words. She’ll know what it means.’ 

She sighed, frustrated at the vagueness of his request, but wanting to respect both his judgement and his privacy. 

‘Okay Superman, if you’re sure,’ she agreed. 

He nodded, relief obviously washing over him. 

‘Just… hold on okay,’ she added, for whatever good it’d do. ‘This is going to work. I promise.’ 

Maybe she was even trying to convince herself. 

She let go of the comms button, watching as the superhero sighed and brushed a hand through his hair. He sat back down on the bed, but on the edge this time, his whole posture looking slightly less defeated. 

Now she just had to try and make sure she kept her promise. 

Jon looked around the huge rock formation that was his uncle’s fortress. 

He'd never seen anything like it before. I mean, it’s not like he’d ever gotten to go to his dad's old fortress in the arctic, let alone this one. There was no denying, it was pretty impressive. He couldn’t believe it was all constructed by the energy in a single crystal.  

‘Wow,’ Nat gushed beside him, echoing his thoughts. 

She gazed above them, marvelling at the cavernous ceilings. 

‘Through here,’ Jordan called out from a few steps ahead. 

He could tell his brother was enjoying being the expert here, charging ahead like the place was a second home. Like he hadn’t only been here one time, when dad agreed to let him come along for back up and he ended up almost getting killed by Tal. 

‘I think this is where Grandma’s crystal is,’ his brother added. 

Jon looked over at Nat and she shrugged, following Jordan around another bend. With a sigh, he followed suit, eyes darting behind him every now and then just to be sure they were alone.

As they stepped into a huge open cavern, he couldnt help but swear under his breath. The space was bigger than their living room!

And there, at it's centre, was their dad’s bizarre doppelganger, imprisoned by some kind of energy shield.

‘I knew it! I was right!’ Jordan exclaimed, looking even more smugly over at Jon like he wanted some kind of pat on the back. 

Jon tried to squash down his jealousy, knowing it wouldn't help them get his dad back.

‘Yup, score one for Superboy,’ he said reluctantly. 

‘Uh, Jon, Jordan,’ Nat said anxiously, gesturing towards the creature. 

Their dad’s messed up lookalike turned at the  sound of unexpected visitors, glaring right at them. The thing looked pissed.

Really pissed. 

He wasn't sure how they were supposed to get him to help them. The shadow version of his dad looked like he was more likely to rip their heads from their bodies if he could. 

It would have been disturbing coming face to face with the thing any day, but somehow, knowing his dad was missing made it sting even more.

He looked so much like his dad in some ways... but was obviously so completely different. It wasn't just the scarred up and pale skin. It was the pent up rage, the hatred behind his eyes. 

How had he gotten so messed up? He had to have gone through some pretty horrible stuff to look this… twisted. Could it happen to his dad some day? If he was pushed to the edge, traumatised... could he become some unrecognisable version of himself too? 

And what about him?

Was Jon himself capable of becoming a monster?

His dad hadn't told him everything he'd seen in the inverse world, but he knew part of this guys story was that he'd gotten hooked on Green K... apparently over there, it was like their X-K, giving him the extra strength and confidence he thought he needed to win. 

Would he have ended up looking like that if he'd kept up with the orange kind he'd been secretly huffing himself? 

Jon shuddered, giving Jordan a warning look as he bore the man's death glare; but his brother shrugged it off, whispering, ‘The energy field’s keeping him trapped. He can’t hurt us.’

Reluctantly Jon followed him as he took a few steps forwards, ready to try and engage. He knew they had to really. That's what they were here for. They needed to at least try and find out what he knew. 

‘Um hey, I'm not sure what to call you,’ Jordan said tentatively. ‘But… you’re connected to my dad, right? You get visions?’

The thing simply grunted in response, his head suddenly tipping to one side and twisting awkwardly like he was tweaking.

‘Do you know where he is?’

The creature said nothing at first, still glaring at them like he was attempting to intimidate. Then his eyes locked with Jonathan's and he seemed to slowly soften in sad recognition.

He could swear he saw a wave of guilt wash across the bizzaro things face. 

In what felt like an almost wistful tone, the creature started speaking, but the words were some kind of a strange language Jon couldn’t understand. Still, the thing was still looking directly at him. Was he talking directly to him? 

From the baffled expressions on his brother’s and Nat’s faces, they were just as clueless. 

‘This is pointless Jordan, we should just get out of here,’ Jon said nervously, not enjoying the man's fixed attention. 

There was something about the way he was looking at him that was weirdly posessive, and he felt suddenly eager to be anywhere else.

Besides, despite Jordan’s potentially unfounded confidence, they really didn’t know enough about Tal’s fortress to be sure they were safe here.

What if they set something off they weren’t supposed to?

Jon’s memory flashed back to the last time he’d gone investigating something he shouldn’t have without telling his mom. John Henry’s RV when it was parked in their barn last year. 

He’d nearly been shot by a tirade of bullets.

‘Wait, just let me see if it’s still…’ Jordan said, reaching into a crevice next to them. ‘Ah, see, I got this.’ 

Jon watched as his brother pulled out an orange crystal, smiling in satisfaction once again, and placing it carefully into a slot in the wall that seemed to perfectly fit its shape. 

Jon and Nat both jumped when a hologram of a woman dressed in a long regal looking attire appeared, smiling at them warmly. 

‘Jordan, my grandson, how nice to see you again,’ she said. 

Jon realised his mouth was hanging open, and he quickly closed it, feeling weirdly self conscious about his first impression to her being some kind of slack jawed idiot. 

It was kind of surreal... feeling self conscious about the first impression of a hologram… but she looked so much more real than he’d imagined. Jordan had told him about her, about their grandad too… but what he’d pictured hadn’t been anything like this.

‘Um, hi Grandma,’ Jordan said, beaming from ear to ear. ‘This is Jon, your other grandson, and that’s Natalie. She’s kind of our sister on our mom’s side.'

‘Welcome Jonathan, ive heard so much about you,’ she smiled warmly.

Jon couldn’t help but grin back at her. Guess it was nice to know his dad talked about him sometimes.

‘Pleased to meet you Natalie,’ she added. ‘So what can I do for you all?’ 

Jordan’s face dropped, like for a minute he’d forgotten why they were there and now he was kicking himself. 

‘Dad’s missing,’ he explained quickly. ‘We were wondering if you had any way to find him…’ 

Jon could feel himself holding his breath as they waited for her response. She looked genuinely concerned at the knowledge their dad was missing. Could an AI feel concern? Or was it just programmed to look like that if certain things were said? 

‘I can attempt to track his frequency…’ she said slowly, ‘But it may take a few minutes.’ 

‘Yes, please, try anything,’ Jordan nodded enthusiastically, and Jon had to admit, he was feeling suddenly grateful for his brother’s idea.

Maybe coming here really was the right call. If they could get a location, John Henry might even have their dad out of custody and home for dinner. 

‘Do you know what language that thing is speaking?’ Nat asked suddenly, waving her hand towards the disturbing prisoner Jon was trying to ignore.

He was still staring at them.  

‘This other Kal-El speaks English, his words simply come out in reverse. Here, this should correct it for you.’ 

Jon turned reluctantly back towards the bizzaro version of their dad, feeling his brother and Nat doing the same. The man seemed to sense something was different, smiling at them in a way that gave Jon the creeps. 

‘You want to know where your dad is? What’s happening to him?’ the creature hissed. 

Jon glanced at the others in confusion. Had he understood them before? Or was that just his best guess about why they’d be here. 

‘It’s not been a pretty sight,’ the thing continued. 

‘Whatever you've seen… we want to know,’ Jordan confirmed. 

‘He's trapped in a cell, stripped of his powers, weak. And they’ve been torturing him...’ 

Jon swallowed, horrified at the confirmation of his worst fear. 

‘How do we know you’re not just lying?’ he demanded. 

‘I don’t care what you believe,’ the thing grunted. ‘None of this would be happening if your father had just listened to me.’ 

‘Actually I think none of this would be happening if you hadn't killed a couple of kids,’ Nat retorted.

Jon flinched as he saw a flash of blue light up in the creatures eyes. Was the containment field able to keep vision powers from getting out?  

‘Jordan, Jonathan!’ their grandmas voice suddenly called out, sounding as worried as an AIs voice could sound. 

They turned to face her, and Jon could feel his heart starting to pound.  

‘Someone’s coming,’ she informed them. ‘Someone who moves very fast.’ 

‘Dad?’ Jordan said hopefully. 

‘No, it is not your father…,’ she confirmed, then looked at Natalie, ‘Nor is it yours. It is someone else. Someone I have never met.’ 

Jon wracked his brain for any explanation, but he came up depressingly short. 

If someone was headed their way at super speed… it very likely wasn’t a friend.

‘Quickly, back here,’ his brother hissed, pulling at Jon’s hoodie and dragging him into a hidden space to their left. 

Eyes wide as saucers, they stared helplessly at each other in silence, bracing themselves for whatever was coming. 

As quietly as he could, he reached into his pocket for his phone, thinking maybe he could get a message to his mom. 

He realised with dismay that there was no signal in their remote location. 

They were on their own. 

Chapter Text

'Boys?’ Lois called out frantically as she burst through the farmhouse door. 

She rushed straight into the kitchen, through the dining room and on to the living room, returning to the front hallway before her dad had even made it inside. 

His face bore a look of concern that she found inexplicably irritating, so she averted her gaze, turning around without a word and flying up the stairs two at a time.

She desperately willed her sons to just be in their rooms. Pleaded that they'd just come home from school, simply too upset about their dad to focus in class. That they'd be playing video games, headphones locked in place, recklessly ignoring their phones as they allowed themselves to be absorbed by mindless escapism. 

But they werent there.

There was no sign of either of them. 

She'd been trying to reach them for over an hour now, growing more and more worried as time passed. With everything else going on, she'd tried her best to reason with herself that there was no need to worry. That she was just over tired, understandably stressed and on high alert. After all, they were at school. They were safe. There was no reason to think they were in danger. 

She tried to stay focused on the situation at Harcastle's, reminding herself that Clark was the one in danger right now. They were still no closer to figuring out where Anderson had taken him, but now they had definitive proof the man was completely acting under his own authority.

They needed to take swift action, to start turning over stones until they came across a lead they could follow. That's where she needed to put her energy. 

Still, by the time she and her dad finished answering the DODs questions and she'd given John Henry the full debrief, she was losing her battle to stay calm. 

There was still no word from either of them.  

As they got back into her dad's truck, trying to decide where they should head first, she decided to just give the school a quick call. 

That's when she'd confirmed they were missing.

They hadn't shown up for their last two classes, seemingly no where to be found on the school grounds. Even worse, Natalie was with them. 

Lois was fuming at first, but now she was quickly crossing over into frantic worry. Where the hell would they have gone? Why wouldn't they have just told her if they were leaving school? 

‘Any sign of them?’ her dad asked as she trudged back down the stairs. 

‘Nothing,’ she confirmed. ‘This isn't like them…’ 

Her dad raised an eyebrow. 

‘Okay, maybe it’s a little bit like them lately, but not now, not when their dad’s been arrested,’ she clarified. 

Her dad frowned, seeming to consider something for a minute. ‘Is it possible they’d try and do something to help?’ 

‘Like what?’ Lois threw up her hands in frustration. ‘It’s not like they…’ 

She cut off her own rant mind flow when a thought occurred to her, bringing with it a new source of dread. 

‘Oh Jordan, please don’t have thought to go there,’ she muttered to herself.

Her dad eyeballed her, waiting impatiently for her to fill him in on her epiphany. 

‘Tal’s fortress in the bad lands. Where Clark took his bizarro self… Jordan knows where it is. What if they thought they could go and talk to him?’ 

Her dad's jaw tightened and he let out an anxious breath. Lois had to admit, the more she thought about it, the more likely an explanation it felt. It was the one place they'd want to avoid telling her they'd gone. They knew she'd never agree to it... 

Still they needed to be sure.

‘Okay, i’m going to call John Henry. If Nat’s with them, I'm sure he can track their location in no time, and if you’re right… he’ll just head over there and bring them right home.’ 

He waited for some kind of confirmation she’d heard him, and she nodded briefly, her anxiety causing her to start pacing in the hallway.

She felt her dad slip out of the door, and his gruff voice drifted back inside as he began explaining the situation to John Henry.

How could they be so stupid and reckless?

With everything already going on with Jonathan, she was starting to feel like her sons were going completely off the rails, slipping so far away from her. She couldnt begin to predict or even understand their behaviour anymore.

Lois almost jumped out of her skin as the farmhouse’s phone suddenly started ringing. 

She crossed the kitchen at close to super speed and picked up the phone.

‘Jon, Jordan, is that you?’ she asked in a rush. 

A young woman's voice responded, immediately filling her with disappointment.

‘No, Miss Lane, my name is Sullivan.’ 

‘Sorry, we’re a bit busy right now, whatever it is you can call back another time,’ Lois responded impatiently, in no mood for cold callers. 

She moved to replace the reciever back on its stand, but paused when she heard the voice on the other end screeching, ‘Wait, no, don’t hang up!’

Lois curiosity caused her to bring the phone back to her ear. Cold callers weren't usually that invested. 

‘Where did you say you were calling from again?’ 

‘I’m calling from the DOD facility where Superman is being held,’ the woman said in an urgent but hushed tone. 

Lois’ attention was locked in like an eagle, and she tightened her grip on the receiver in her hand.

‘Is he okay?’ She asked quickly. ‘Have they hurt him?’ 

There was enough of a pause to send a chill right through her.

‘Uh… he’s alive. And in one piece. Look, I don't have much time. Anderson's gone to Tal-Rho's fortress in the bad lands, but I have no idea how long he'll be... If you want to see Superman again please, you have to do as I say.’ 

Lois held her breath, afraid to make any sound that might scare the woman off. 

‘The facility he's being held at is in Smallville,’ the woman revealed.

Lois nearly swore impulsively, only just managing to bite her tongue.

‘It's underneath the old cream corn factory on Glenmore Rd, below ground.’

Damnit, there had been no record of any DOD buildings in her home town, but she was still kicking herself that they hadn't had John Henry search the area nearby. She just hadn't thought Smallville would be on the DODs top spots for a secret base.

Somehow it stang even more knowing Clark was right here, right under her nose.

‘If you meet me at the south side entrance in exactly ten minutes, I should be able to get you inside. But Miss Lane, if you aren't there at that time… we lose our window.’ 

Lois wracked her memory of how far Glenmore Rd was from the farm, concluding that it would be tight but she could make it.

No, she would make it.

Even if she had to break the sound barrier to do it, she would make it. 

‘Oh and Lois, Superman told me to tell you… Anderson knows. Everything. He said you’d know what that meant.’ 

Lois’ breath hitched at the woman’s relayed message, her throat drying up even as she thanked the woman and hung up. 

She tried to process everything her husband's words implied, while also forcing her body into motion, grabbing her purse with the stun gun in and heading straight back out the way she'd entered.

‘Pumpkin,’ her dad said with surprise, phone still pressed to his ears.

Good, he was still talking to John Henry. She didn't even respond, instead just grabbing the phone from his hand, leaving him gaping in speechless confusion. She didn't have time to explain herself.

‘John you need to head to Tal’s fortress now,’ she said quickly.

‘Uh, hi Lois, just let my AI finish tracking Nat’s phone…’ 

‘There’s no time,’ she cut him off. ‘Anderson's on his way there, might even be there already. I don't know if the kids are there or not… but if they are... you need to get there fast.

John fell silent for a second, taking in the conviction in her voice.

'John... I don't know how, but he knows who Clark is. He knows about the boys.' 

She couldnt hide the sheer terror in her voice, didnt even want to. She needed him to understand what was at stake.

'I’m on my way,' he said finally, and then all that was left was a dial tone.

She threw the phone back at her dad and immediately started down the porch steps and back out to the truck. 

‘Give me the keys,’ she demanded once she had the trucks driver side door open. 

There was no way she was wasting time letting her dad drive and explaining the directions. 

He hesitated for a moment, but seemed to think better of it when he saw the fiercely determined look on her face, crossing quickly to the other side of the vehicle and chucking his keys towards her without a word.

She started the ignition and was pulling away before he'd even fully closed the door. 

‘Woah, Lois, slow down. What the hell is going on? What happened in there?’ he demanded finally.

‘It’s Clark,’ she filled him in. ‘I know where he is.’ 

Jordan focused his super hearing on the person coming in to land at Tal's fortress, keeping a finger sternly over his lips to indicate his brother and Nat stay quiet. He ignored their matching eye rolls, seeing the fear on their faces despite the frustrated gesture.

Okay, sure, he didnt actually think they’d be dumb enough to make a lot of noise, but he needed to focus. 

They kept as still as ice statues as Jordan picked up the sound of cautious footsteps heading in their direction, making their way through the twisting series of caverns. 

It took whoever it was a while to find the main chamber, taking a wrong turn a few times and having to double back at an eventual dead end, but finally he emerged into the open space. 

Jordan heard a low gasp and a man's voice muttering something under his breath, before cocking what sounded like a rifle. 

He used his X-Ray vision to see through the wall between them, a ball of dread forming in his stomach when he saw the man’s military uniform and the green tinge of his weapon. 

He glanced back at his brother and Nat, biting his lip in a way that he hoped expressed the need for even more caution than before. The man looked like he was on a hunt, and not the kind where you just release your prey back into the wild. 

He was looking to kill. 

‘Finally. I knew i'd find you,’ the man said, seemingly addressing their dad’s doppleganger. 

Without hesitation or warning, the man suddenly shot off three bullets. They hit the containment field, bouncing straight off and falling to the floor uselessly. He heard the man curse loudly in frustration. 

The bizzarro version of his dad laughed coldly in response. 

To Jordan's surprise, Lara’s voice echoed through the chamber.

‘Who are you? Why are you intruding in my chamber?’ She demanded of their visitor.

‘Kal-El sent me,’ the man said slyly. ‘Told me right where to find this place. Guess he finally accepted the justice that needs to be done.’ 

'And where is Kal-El?’ She asked. ‘I was told he was missing.’ 

At the knowledge someone else had been there already, the military man looked around suspiciously. 

‘Oh, don’t worry about that, he’s perfectly safe. We’ve just been… getting to know each other. Now… why don't you just bring down whatever shield is protecting this man and let me take care of things from there.’

‘I’m afraid I can't do that,’ Lara refused. ‘Not until Kal-El returns.’ 

Jordan inwardly cheered his grandmas loyalty. He still didn't fully understand her programming, but he knew she was capable of making decisions. She was judging this man as untrustworthy, and that showed an impeccable sense of character as far as he was concerned.

He watched as the military man scanned around him again, his eyes falling on the orange crystal, slightly protruding from the wall.

With a look of satisfaction, he raised his rifle and aimed it at the device.

‘I'm guessing this is your power source, am I wrong?’ he said with a smirk.

‘It is,’ Lara’s AI responded simply. 

‘Well let’s see… does a holographic AI have survival instincts?’ he said curiously.

‘I’m not sure I understand your question, stranger.’

‘Let me put it simply,’ the man growled, growing seemingly impatient. ‘Either you lower that shield, or I destroy this crystal. I'm guessing you die along with it.’

‘I would ask that you don't do that.’ 

‘How about I give you until the count of 3, hmmm? 1…’ 

Jordans heart started pounding in his chest, and he looked desperately back at his brother and Nat. They looked just as freaked out as he was, confirming they'd heard at least some of the exchange as well.

‘2…’

His mind spun frantically as he tried to figure our if there was any way of stopping this without revealing himself… but there was no way out of their hiding place other than the entrance they'd come in or blasting through the wall… neither of which would be very stealthy. 

‘3…’ 

As the man called out the final number of his countdown, Jordan moved instinctively. He knew it was reckless, knew he might regret it… but he couldnt just let him do this. Tal had already destroyed his grandads AI. This was literally all they had left of Krypton, all the connection they had to their culture, to their home. 

He couldnt just stand there while the man blasted it to peices.

Jordan sped out of their hiding place, shoving into their unwelcome guest and knocking him off his feet. The man thumped heavily against the cave wall, hard enough that any normal human would have been knocked out. 

But to Jordan’s dismay, he got right up, brushing himself off and cracking his neck. 

He saw the flustered man’s eyes flash with primal rage, and his gaze darted around the cave floor. Jordan realised he was looking for his weapon. He moved quickly, grabbing it at super speed. 

The green tinge he’d noticed earlier was definitely kryptonite. He could feel the toxic radiation immediately, and he instinctively chucked the rifle as far behind him as he could, before turning to face Anderson in a defensive stance. 

‘I know you,’ the military man said slowly, recognition pulling his features into a delighted smile. ‘You’re one of General Lane’s grandsons.’ 

‘I don't know what you’re talking about,’ Jordan denied, but he could see from the man’s amused expression he wasn't buying it.

‘Oh there's no need to be shy. Your dad and I have been getting to know each other really well these last few days,’ the man drawled.

Jordan swallowed. ‘My dad?’ 

‘Superman,’ the man practically snarled. ‘Clark Kent. Kal-el. Whatever you want to call him. It's all the same lying alien scum, isnt it? And you… well you're nothing more than an abomination.’

Jordan winced at the cold sting of revelation that this man knew who his dad was. That he'd someone gotten the information from him while holding him prisoner. Maybe the bizzaro thing wasn't lying, maybe they really had been torturing him.

When he winced a second time, it was evident it was about more than just the shock and fear.

A barrage of sensations were beginning to escalate from the kryptonite in the room. He could feel it sapping away his energy, tormenting with increasing waves of pain. He glanced around urgently, eyes falling on the fallen kryptonite bullets laying only a few metres to his right.

‘Now, where's that brother of yours,’ the man asked suddenly, tipping his head to one side like he was using super hearing of his own. 

Jordan felt his panic rising even more at the suddenly pleased expression on his face. 

‘I knew he couldn't be far… Jonathan Kent, why don't you and your little friend join us?’ 

Jordan felt his vision starting to swim as he heard his brother and Nat stepping out from their hiding place in the cave wall. As much as he tried to fight it, he couldn't stop his legs giving way from under him at the same time. 

‘Jordan!’ His brother called out, dashing over to him as he fell to his knees, expression tight with concern. 

‘It’s the kryptonite,’ Jordan explained, gesturing towards the glowing bullets on the ground as a sharp wave of pain caused him to cry out suddenly.

‘You need to leave,’ Nat demanded, sounding way more commanding than she argueably should. 

‘And who the hell are you?’ the man Jordan had to now assume was General Anderson barked at her. 

Before any of them could react to what was happening, the man sped behind them at super speed, snatching his rifle from its discarded position on the ground. 

‘Now,’ he seethed, raising his weapon in their direction with a look of determined malice. ‘Let’s try this again. Tell this hologram to release my suspect, or I will open fire.’ 

Chapter Text

Lois drove as fast as she could down the country road, forcibly shoving aside the clawing anxiety for her children’s safety, and just trying to focus on her destination. 

There was nothing she could do for them, absolutely no further action she could take that would keep them safe. She just had to trust that John Henry would get there, that he would be bringing them back to the farmhouse and letting her know they were all okay in no time. 

She couldn’t help them… but she could help Clark. If this insider she’d spoken to followed through on their promise, there was a real chance they could bring him home. 

Her dad sat beside her in anxious silence, grimacing at every sharp turn she flew around without slowing down; but he seemed to have the sense not to comment on her driving right now. 

She only finally began to reduce her speed once she reached the battered old sign marking the road leading up to the old cream corn factory. 

Lois paused at the crossing, glancing anxiously at her dad as she tried to weigh up the time benefit of getting them closer vs the risks of their approach being spotted by the wrong people. 

‘Pull in up there,’ Sam suggested, waiving at an old tire yard across the street and helping make the decision for her. 

She knew they needed to be cautious. Neither of them had a clue how much security the facility had. It was off the books, and that might mean it was minimally guarded… but all it took was one trigger happy guard to notice them and their chances of getting inside would be ruined.

She was still partially in disbelief that the DOD had even built a secret facility here in Smallville; but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. With the discovery of the X-K mines last year, she shouldn’t have been surprised they’d want to keep a closer eye on the place. 

Still, she could tell it had bothered her dad as she’d filled him in on everything Sullivan said. He knew the young soldier, and could at least vouch for her somewhat… but he was obviously rattled, unsure what to trust. She couldn’t believe the DOD had gone behind his back to put this location together, with another kryptonian prisoner facility inside. 

Once she’d parked the truck, placing it between a couple of abandoned vehicles in the hopes it wouldn't stand out like a sore thumb, they headed up the dusty country road on foot, moving as fast as they could manage without making too much noise. 

As soon as they reached visibility of the building, her dad paused just ahead of her, gesturing for her to stop and crouching behind a nearby patch of brush. She quickly dropped beside him, scanning the area he was looking towards just in time to see a faint hint of movement as it disappeared around the corner of the old factory.

The abandoned building was barely even a building anymore. Parts of the factory walls were completely caved in, and most of the windows had been smashed out by vandals. No one would ever suspect there was a whole other facility just beneath the surface. 

Her dad ushered her towards a line of trees that would lead them around to the south side, still at a safe enough distance to hopefully go unnoticed. Lois glanced at her watch, tension filling her body as she realised they only had 60 seconds before their deadline. She gritted her teeth as her dad silently insisted on pausing between each tree, checking the fresh line of sight before darting on to the next. 

She knew she had to default to his judgement here. She’d dealt with her fair share of stealthy operations, but her dad knew how the DODs defenses operated. And as desperate as she was to get moving, she was also desperate to do so alive, and free from bullet holes. 

Finally they could see the south side entrance well enough to hear the muffled conversation of the two soldiers standing guard at the door. They seemed completely at ease, laughing to themselves and leaning against the door. Their casual demeanour told her they thought their guard duty was unimportant. Arrogant enough to think no one would ever find them. 

Lois’ heart thumped in her chest as she watched the seconds tick by on her watch. She glanced back at her dad, whose face was scrunched up in disgust. She could practically feel the sense of betrayal radiating from him. 

He’d given his whole life, sacrificed so much, in service of an institution he’d thought was a force for good… that he believed operated under certain principles. Principles that he’d respected. Of course he wasn’t naive enough to think there was no corruption within the DOD at all… but he’d obviously not expected them to be capable of this level of deception.

As the final seconds passed, she stared intently at the door, breath held in anticipation. She couldn't afford to miss anything, couldn't hesitate if there was any kind of signal. She needed to get inside, needed to see Clark with her own eyes, to know he was safe. 

And then she needed to get him the hell out of there.

What had he been having to endure anyway? From the hesitant way the woman on the phone had responded to her question about his well being, it seemed as though they'd obviously weakened him, maybe even hurt him badly. She just hoped he'd have enough energy to be able to manage their escape.

At exactly noon on the dot, the door started to open. The guards stepped aside, looking relieved to see two young soldiers coming out to excuse them. The young woman waved them on through the door, and they dissapeared into shadow. 

Lois watched her closely as she closed the door behind them, before furtively glancing around like she was searching for something specific. Or someone. 

Her dad gave her a cautious look, but she wasn't going to turn back now. She rushed out of the line of trees before he could say a word of protest, and she could feel him follow, only a few steps behind her. 

Sullivan sighed with relief as soon as she spotted them, gesturing at them both to move quickly. Her shift mate looked even more nervous, holding his rifle at the ready and pointing it back the way they’d come as though anticipating a potential ambush might come flying from the trees.

‘Lois! General Lane!’ the woman exclaimed in a hushed tone. ‘Thank god you made it. We haven't got long. Quickly, follow me.’

Okay, sure. No time for small talk. They weren't going to have a long discussion about the plan. They were either in… or they weren't. 

Lois knew they couldn't afford not to be. 

The woman opened the door, nodding at her companion before leaving him to stand guard on his own and heading inside. 

Lois caught her dad drawing his gun from his belt again, and she found herself reaching into her purse, placing her hand around her stun gun just in case. 

They followed the young soldier down a set of stairs and through another door, leading to a dark, dingy hallway. The overhead lights flickered above them ominously as they continued swiftly along its path, an intense humming sound echoing through the cramped space. 

After a few paces, the sound of muffled laughter floated towards them, originating somewhere further down their path. At a turning point, the woman stopped, placing her finger on her lips and glaring at them intently. The three of them paused, listening intently as the voices seemed to disappear into another room, until finally they heard the click of a door closing behind them. 

Lois could feel her heart in her throat as the woman suddenly dashed out from their hiding place, fumbling with a set of keys before sticking one in the door she’d approached. From the recognisable stick man figure on the door, it seemed as though she’d just locked them in the bathroom. 

‘Come on,’ the woman whispered. ‘They’re usually in there for a good few minutes after a sentry shift, but they’ll realised they’ve been locked in soon enough, and then they’ll start making a racket.’

Lois simply nodded, impressed with the way the young women was taking charge, despite her obvious fear. She seemed determined to see this through, to help Superman get to safety. All at potentially great risk to her own safety. Lois had so much gratitude and respect for her putting her life on the line like this. 

‘Through here,’ the woman whispered again, motioning for them to follow her down another hall. At the end of the path, the walls were bathed in red light, that seemed to be emanating from whatever lie behind the door at the end. 

Lois swallowed anxiously, knowing what the light likely represented, knowing they had to have weakened him somehow… but her heart still longed to be wrong. 

Finally they reached the double doors at the hallways end and the woman waved a key card over a lock pad next to it. With a beep, the doors slid open, and they were stepping into a wide open space. 

The huge room was shrouded in darkness, seemingly empty other than the prison cell at its centre. The cell was definitely the source of the light, its red hues emanating from every corner. 

Sitting on a cot bed inside, dressed only in a pair of loose white jump suit pants, his head flopped back against the wall in defeat… was her husband. 

He didn't even hear them coming at first, didn't even flinch. 

He seemed pretty out of it, staring blankly at the nothingness beyond his cell, trapped in god knows what thoughts and memories. 

Her heart wrenched at the sight.

‘It’s okay, I set up a recording to replace the camera and microphone feed for the next few minutes,’ the young soldier filled her in. ‘You can talk to him.’

She took the woman’s permission without question, flying the rest of the distance across the empty space until she was pressed up right against the glass. 

‘Superman?’ She said softly, tears falling freely as she noted his dejected posture. 

Still he didn't move, didn’t respond. It was like he was in some kind of trance, his mind somewhere other than reality. 

What the hell had they been doing to him down here? 

As much as she could tell in the dim red light, his skin seemed horribly pale, and his eyes were grey and sunken. There was a bandage on his shoulder and another at his side, with multiple bruises visible across his torso. 

Even more concerning, was what looked like a trail of dry blood coming down from his ear. His neck bore the traces of multiple evenly spaced out burns, and there was a plaster on the crook of his left arm that suggested he’d either had bloods taken or something injected into him.

Both options sent a surge of fury right through her. 

Had they even given him any food or water since he’d been here? She was convinced he looked much thinner than usual. 

The young soldier headed towards the door to the cell, and Lois tried to reach him again.

‘Superman,’ she said, this time more firmly. ‘It’s Lois Lane, can you hear me?’ 

He spun around suddenly at the sound of her name, his eyes finding hers instantly. She felt a ball of emotion swirling in her stomach as she watched the transition of emotions moving through him - confusion, joy, relief, concern, and then finally seeming to land on horror. 

‘No, please, you can't be here,’ he said urgently, standing up and taking a few wobbly steps to meet her. ‘He’ll be back soon, if he finds you he'll…’ 

‘Hey, it's okay, we’re going to get you out of here,’ she tried to reassure him, her eyes glancing impatiently over at the young soldier who was struggling to open the prison door. 

His body was trembling so hard he was forced to rest his hands against the glass. 

She could see from the yearning behind his eyes that he longed to touch her, to take solace in the comfort of her embrace. 

But something had rattled him more than she’d ever seen. 

‘Lois, please, you have to go, now,’ he begged her. ‘I can't watch him hurt you.’

‘What’s going on?’ her dad asked the young soldier impatiently, joining her at the control panel.

‘It’s the key card, Sir, it’s not working,’ she admitted, her voice thick with dismay. ‘I don't understand, maybe Anderson had a separate card for the cell itself? I'm so sorry!’ 

‘Is this place sound proofed?’ Sam asked. 

‘What? Um… yeah, they wanted to make sure kryptonians couldn't hear anything inside.’ 

‘Stand back,’ Sam said firmly, holding his arm out protectively and raising his gun towards the control panel. 

Lois covered her ears just as her dad blasted his pistol at the screen. 

The volume of the gunshot hit Clark hard, and he cried out in agony, immediately clasping his head in his hands. Lois’ heart pounded as she watched him stumble backwards, falling against the furthest wall and collapsing to the floor.

Thankfully, it wasn't for nothing. The smashed screen flashed green, and the cell door slid open. Lois was at Clark’s side in a heart beat, reaching out to touch him, offer him some kind of comfort. 

His skin was unexpectedly freezing to touch. 

She took his hands in hers, bringing them down and trying to get him to meet her eyes, but he seemed to be actively avoiding her.

‘Please, just go, you don't understand what he's capable of,’ Clark begged, his whole body trembling.

He seemed to be frantically searching the shadows, as though someone would emerge at any moment. 

‘Hey, hey listen to me,’ she said firmly, bringing a hand up to his chin and gently nudging it towards her. 

Finally, he met her gaze. His eyes were a whirlpool of guilt and desperation, fuelled by a level of terror she'd never seen in him before. 

It disturbed her more than she'd like to admit. She was so used to him being a bottomless pit of strengrh, the man who never gave up hope, no matter how bad things got. 

Now he needed her to be that strength. 

Now he needed her to save him. 

‘I’m not leaving here without you, do you hear me?’ She told him, her own voice shaking with conviction. 

He searched her fearless gaze in silence, his jaw clenching as he battled some kind of internal conflict. She reached up to stroke his cheek, and he closed his eyes at the warmth of her touch. 

‘Please,’ she said more softly. ‘You have to trust me. We can get through this.’ 

His eyes filled with tears, but he swallowed them down, nodding submissively and doing his best to start getting to his feet. 

Lois helped steady him with her arm. 

‘Okay Superman, can you walk?’ her dad questioned, looking Clark up and down warily.

He seemed as thrown by her husband's appearance as she was. He paused a beat, before tugging off his jacket and handing it to him. 

‘I… I think so,’ Clark said hesitantly, taking the jacket gratefully and pulling it on, trying not to aggravate his injured shoulder. 

She watched him take a few steps towards the door, then wobble for a moment, before his weight dropped from under him, the impact of the unexpected sound on his equilibrium apparently worse than he'd thought. Thankfully her dad was at his side before he fell. 

‘Hey, i’ve got you,’ he said, lifting Clark's arm up over his shoulder and taking as much of the pressure off him as he could. 

Lois dashed to the other side, propping up his other arm and trying to even out the weight. 

The three of them moved swiftly out of the cell and back the way they'd come, letting the young soldier lead them through the tunnel like hallways.

The woman held her own pistol out now, suddenly seeming much more nervous.

‘We lost a lot of time back there with the key card,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure our route out of here will be so easy now.’ 

As though proving her point, the sound of alarmed voices and sudden movement above them erupted, forcing them to move even faster. 

They flew down the hall, and Lois could feel Clark’s weight becoming slightly less heavy as they gained some distance from the red solar light. He was starting to regain his strength, taking more confident steps of his own. 

She could feel her hope rising as they passed the locked bathroom. The soldiers inside were thumping against the door, shaking its hinges, but she didn't care. They were nearly out of there, nearly free of their grasp. 

She just had to get Clark into the sun, and everything would be…

Before she knew what was happening, an alarm started blaring from a nearby speaker, causing Clark to cry out sharply again from the volume. She met her dad's equally horrified expression as the hallway began to fill with a sickly green gas.

Clark started coughing immediately, his body slumped heavily in their grip. He was gritting his teeth, grunting against harsh waves of pain, his body tensing in spasms. The more violently he began to cough, the harder it was to hold him upright, until finally he slipped from her grasp entirely, dropping so suddenly her dad had to just let him slide to the floor, resting him against the wall and taking a second to re think their strategy. 

The gas was quickly filling the narrow space, blocking their view in every direction. They didn't even know if the gas had any kind of negative effect on humans.

‘Is the south exit still open?’ Sam called out. 

‘I… I don’t know!’ Sullivan replied, her own rising terror evident. ‘I don't know what's happening. General Lane, I'm so sorry, they didn't tell me about any lockdown protocol.’ 

‘Wait here,’ he said quickly, before dissapearing into the green smoke ahead.

The thumping from the bathroom door was getting louder and sharper, and voices began to echo towards them from down the hall. 

‘Is there anything we can push up against the door?’ Lois asked the young soldier, snapping her out of her regret soaked panic. 

The woman nodded, hesitating for a moment before dashing back the way they came. 

Clark was trying to cover his mouth with the sleeve of her dad’s jacket, but it wasnt offering much protection. Besides, he’d already inhaled too much of the toxic gas. She could hear him struggling for breath, could see the way his eyes were drooping like his energy was draining away.

It wouldn't be long before he passed out entirely. 

‘Go!’ Clark insisted between wheezing breaths. ‘Leave me… just get out of here…’ 

Lois shook her head furiously, kneeling down to face him. She didn't care how ridiculously stacked against them the odds seemed right now. This is what they did. They survived the impossible, because they never stopped fighting. Ever.

‘No. I am not letting you give up, not when we are this close. You can do this Clark, I know you can. The boys still need you. I need you. You just have to get up.’ 

He gritted his teeth in determination, taking a deep breath through the fabric, gripping her hand tightly. She watched him force his body to pull together whatever strength it had left and he began pushing himself up off the ground, holding his breath as he slid up the wall. He leaned against it for a moment, as Lois slipped his other arm over her shoulder. 

He was heavy… but she could do this if they worked together. If he could keep going, so could she. 

‘Lois?’ she heard her dad’s voice calling out from the smoke as they made their way forwards. 

He appeared in a rush, dashing to Clark’s other side and immediately taking as much of the load as he could. 

‘Sullivan, she went back that way,’ Lois explained with regret. 

‘Let’s just get free of the gas for now, we’ll come back for her,’ Sam promised, already shoving them forwards. 

The alarm still filled the hallway with its overwhelming sound, making it impossible to notice the footsteps making their way towards them until they were nearly right on top of them. 

They heard a few sharp shouts that couldnt have been more than a few paces away, and then suddenly a slew of gunfire lit up the hallway, like someone had recklessly decided to just start shooting blindly into the dark.

Their hobbled steps turned into as close to a run as they could manage while still supporting Clark’s weight, and Lois found herself praying to whatever higher power there might be, to somehow help them make it those last few steps to freedom.  

Anderson didn’t even give them thirty seconds to respond before he pulled the trigger.

Jon watched in horror as the man fired his weapon. The bullets moved faster than his eyes could follow, but he felt Jordan thrash in his grip from the impact, crying out in sudden agony. 

Jon screamed his brother’s name, ignoring the man still aiming his rifle at them, yelling something that was nothing more than a distant fog horn to him now. 

He held his brother as he collapsed to the ground, cradling his head in his hands, staring in horror at the bullet holes in his brother’s hoodie and the trickle of blood that was starting to seep through them.  

This couldn't be happening. 

He couldn't lose his brother. Jordan was the one with powers, he was supposed to be invulnerable now! He gripped his brother’s hand, trying to reassure him that he was okay, that everything would be okay. 

But the truth was, he had no idea if it would be. 

Natalie cried out a warning, and he finally looked up at Anderson. The man had his gun raised again, apparently still determined to force them to comply with his orders. 

Unfortunately the man had just shot the brother that knew how the crystal worked. 

Jon could only tremble as the man shook his head with a disgusted sense of judgement. 

‘Just as bull headed as your dad,’ the man said. ‘The world’s not safe with your species running around, just doing whatever you want. I have to put a stop to it. For the good of mankind.’ 

The man's words came with a look of finality, and Jon braced himself for the same fate as his brother... until something powerful flew towards them, knocking Anderson across the chamber and right through the cave wall. 

Jon let out the breath he'd been holding. He looked around in confusion, realising the bizzaro thing was no longer in its containment field. 

Lara must have set him free. 

Another strong burst of wind blew through the chamber, and suddenly John Henry was landing beside them. 

Jon barely even registered the relief of the man's presence. His brother was sputtering in his arms, his lips stained red with blood.  

‘Jordan? Jordan, stay with me,’ Jon said frantically, panic flooding his system. 

He looked around desperately, first at Nat, then at her dad, who was slowly crouching down beside them.

He heard John Henry’s AI identifying there were kryptonite bullets in his brother’s chest, listened to it stating they were very close to his heart. 

It was all too real, too much of a nightmare. All he could manage was the stupid question, ‘Is he okay?’ 

Of course he wasn't okay.

He'd been shot. 

‘I’m going to have to burn the kryptonite out of him,’ John Henry told him bluntly. 

His brother was too far gone with shock to even register the words, his eyes closed in pain and confusion. 

‘Jordan, i’m sorry, but this is going to hurt,’ Nat’s dad warned, and Jon grabbed hold of his brother's hand, offering him the only solidarity he could. 

‘It’s okay Jordan, just hold on,’ he said, his voice a wobbly mess. 

‘Where did they go?’ he heard Nat ask, but he couldn't worry about that right now, couldnt focus on anything but his brother. 

‘Okay, here we go,’ John said, raising the arm of suit and carefully directing some kind of laser at his Jordan’s chest. 

His brother screamed in agony for a few heartbreaking seconds, until suddenly he fell silent. Jon found the absence of sound somehow much worse.

‘Jordan,’ he cried out. ‘Jordan please hold on.’

‘I think I got it,’ John Henry exclaimed, and before Jon could understand what was happening, the man was suddenly scooping his brother up into his arms.

‘I'm going to get him some sunlight,’ he said in a rush, looking around as if to confirm that Anderson and that thing were still gone. ‘Find a place to hide and stay there. I'll be right back.’ 

He looked reluctant to leave them, but Jon could see from the grim look on his face his brother might not make it if he didn't. 

‘C’mon, in here,’ Natalie called out beside him, gesturing them inside another crevice in the wall. This one seemed to lead to a narrow path, taking them further into the maze like rock structure.

Tears fell freely down his face as Jon let her guide him deeper into the cover of the caves, and he found himself praying to every God he’d ever heard of that those last few moments weren't the last time he'd ever see his brother alive.

Chapter Text

Jordan tried to make sense of the confusing sensations around him. The feel of wind pressure against his skin, the slowly decreasing sounds of the earth below. He was pretty sure he was flying… but he had no idea how. His eyelids felt too heavy to pry open and confirm. 

He was still in excruciating pain. His whole chest felt like it was on fire. The pain was different than before, the kryptonite now gone, its toxic poison no longer tearing apart his insides… but the wounds the bullets had left behind were yet to heal.  

‘Just hold on Jordan,’ the man carrying him said.

He knew the voice, could feel a sense of recognition pushing at the edge of his awareness… but he couldn't quite place it. It wasn’t his dad though, that much he was sure of, and the sinking disappointment of that knowledge flowed through him until he could feel the sting of tears. He longed to see him again, to be reassured by him. To know that he was going to be okay. 

The memory of what had happened to his dad hit him with painful clarity and he felt his resolve strengthening. 

He had to get through this. His dad still needed him. His mom too, and his brother. Jon’s face flashed through his mind, a look of sheer terror on his face as Jordan had simply lain there helplessly in his arms. 

He couldn’t just leave him. Not now, not ever.

Jordan gritted his teeth against the searing pain, and forced himself to open his eyes. 

‘Mr Irons?’ he said meekly, recognising the metallic suit.

He twisted his head to look around further, getting a better sense of their surroundings. They were flying alright. In fact, they were gaining in altitude rapidly, heading straight for the clouds high above the deserted bad lands. 

‘It’s okay, I just need to get you into sunlight,’ John Henry reassured him. 

Jordan nodded, or at least he tried to. His whole body felt stiff and unco-operative. The words felt reassuring though, giving a promise of relief to come, if he just held on a little longer. 

He tried to be brave, tried to contain the tide of screams that demanded to be expressed… but after what was probably only a few seconds, he was already doubting how long he could keep it up. 

Just as he was sure the dam was about to break, that he wouldn’t be able to stay silent for a second longer, they burst through the clouds, and he was mercifully bathed in light.

The warmth of the yellow sun’s rays washed over him like a soothing lotion, tingling like static electricity where it touched his skin. Somehow it reached inside him too, filling him with strength, healing his wounds. He sighed with relief, muscles relaxing as the pain in his chest steadily decreased. 

Tears of gratitude trickled down his cheeks as he felt his power returning, until he was sure he could hear all the way to Australia again. 

And then he heard the only sound he needed to focus on right now. 

His brother’s heart beat.

Pounding at triple its usual speed, telling Jordan just how frightened he was. 

He needed to get back to him. 

Now.

Lois could see light at the end of the tunnel. 

Someone had opened the door to the south side entrance, and the promise of sunlight drove her forwards with conviction. 

They were almost there, freedom almost within reach. 

A stray bullet smashed into the wall beside her, the rebound barely missing her, and she found herself feeling unexpectedly grateful for the kryptonite gas, grateful it was blocking the soldiers from getting a clear shot as they chased them through the maze of hallways. 

‘Go, Go!’ a young man’s voice called out up ahead, and she saw the soldier they’d left earlier coming into view, his rifle poised and aiming into the smoke behind them. 

He waved them past, and she didn’t even question it. There was no time to slow down, to doubt anything. As they reached the bottom of the staircase, she heard another spray of bullets, and a sudden sharp yelp of  pain, followed by voices barking at each other in the dark. 

She didn't look back. She was too afraid to. Besides, it was taking everything she had to keep Clark’s weight supported, to keep up with her dad’s steps as he urgently drove them forwards. Thankfully the fresh air coming from the open door seemed to be helping Clark to breath, making his strained movements slightly more fluid as they made their chaotic approach. 

They flew upwards, taking two steps at a time, practically dragging Clark’s body with them as they did… until they were finally out in the open, blinking at the contrast of stunningly bright light, breathing in the much needed fresh air. 

She forced herself to push just a few steps further until they were fully through the door, and then she felt herself collapsing, Clark’s body sliding to the floor with her. Her dad surrendered to their motion, moving with their descent and gently setting Clark down on the dry earth. 

She watched as her dad's expression turned determinedly focused and he headed straight back for the door, slamming it closed and searching around for something to prop against it. 

Lois’ eyes darted around frantically for any sign of movement from outside of the building, but they appeared to be alone. Once she was one hundred percent sure there were no armed soldiers about to take aim at their exposed position, she turned to Clark, rolling over his slumped body and lifting his face towards her, stroking a hand down his cheek. 

He was panting heavily, eyes wide with adrenaline and the still lingering remnants of pain… but she could already see his pallor improving. She watched as he closed his eyes, bathing in the healing rays of the sun, drawing in as much energy from it as he could. Every passing second seemed to instil in him a little bit more strength, a little bit more calm. 

She heard her dad grunting behind her and turned to see him rolling a nearby barrel over to the door, twisting it into position under the handle. From the furiously loud thumping that followed, it seemed like he’d been just in time. She could see the door already shaking in its hinges as the soldier’s inside fought to bust it open. 

‘Come on, we have to find cover,’ her dad called out, his pistol drawn again and firmly fixed on the door, as though he didn't expect the barrel to hold for long.

He didn’t wait for a response from either of them, leaning down towards Clark’s arm and tugging him upwards urgently, encouraging him to stand. Thankfully, he was already well enough to do so, rising and with a brief wobble, managing to support his own weight. They moved swiftly across the field, darting back into the line of trees she and her dad had used as cover earlier, until finally they were out of such open exposure to gunfire. 

Her dad pulled them behind a wide enough tree trunk to shield them from view, at least for now, and she watched as Clark collapsed to the floor again, wincing as he held his injured side. The short journey had obviously taken a lot out of him. He was healing… but it wouldn’t be instantaneous, she knew that. Not after such a long time out of the sun, and with god knows what kind of encounters with kryptonite. 

She looked over at her dad, poised to ask him whether they should keep moving, but he was already bringing his phone to his ear. 

‘This is General Sam Lane, I need back up at a location in Smallville,’ he barked into the receiver. 

He was calling the DOD. 

Any other time she might have been furious he was making that judgement call without her… after all, it was a risk. They'd decided against filling them in on their mission beforehand, unsure whether Anderson still had people on side who would leak their pending arrival. 

But now they were free, now they had physical proof of the atrocities being committed… she understood why he’d decided it was worth the risk. 

Besides, it was a relief to think they might not have to handle this next part alone. That there might be cavalry on the way.

They hadn't really had time to discuss where they'd go, what they'd do if Anderson’s people came after them. Without the DOD’s help, no where would be safe.  

‘Lois,’ she heard Clark call out raspily, and she returned his urgent gaze.

‘Hey, I'm here,’ she reassured him. ‘Are you okay?’ 

‘I’m getting there,’ he said with relief, before spotting something around her hairline and reaching to gently brush her hair aside. ‘You’re hurt.’ 

She brought her hand up to touch the spot he was staring at, and winced slightly at the evidence of some kind of graze. Damn. She must have been hit… probably by some flying debris as the bullets smashed into the wall beside them. She hadn't even felt it. 

‘I’m okay, it’s just a graze,’ she reassured him, though really it was impossible to tell. 

She needed him focused on his own recovery right now though. He was looking better… but still shockingly unwell compared to usual. 

Now that they were in the sun’s natural light, she could see his lips were painfully dry and cracked. She reached into her purse, pulling out the small bottle of water she always carried with her, and bringing it to his lips. He drank it gratefully, only stopping once it was all gone. 

What were they supposed to do now? She knew the soldiers inside would find there way out eventually. And what about Sullivan and her partner? Were they even still alive?

Now that they were out of quite such immediate danger, Lois had time to feel the twist of guilt in her gut at the thought of the soldiers they had just abandoned. 

They’d had no choice though, had they? There had been nothing they could do for them. Nothing that wouldn’t have been actively suicidal anyway. They were in no position to try and fight back against multiple armed soldiers, not while Clark was powerless, the kryptonite gas slowly killing him. 

If there was any way of helping them, first they’d needed to survive themselves. To make it out of there and call for help.  

‘Where’s Sullivan?’ Clark asked, like he’d somehow read her mind.

Lois bit her lip, knowing exactly how he’d take the news she was on the other side of that door. 

‘We lost her… back in the facility. Her partner too. They're still inside, somewhere.’ 

He looked just as horrified as she’d predicted, and then that same look of determination spread on his face that she’d seen a million times before. He immediately started trying to push himself up into a standing position, leaning against the tree and using it to support his wobbly ascent. 

His jaw set firmly in stubborn conviction as he spoke.

‘I have to go back,’ he said firmly, eyes begging her to understand. 

Usually, she did. Throughout their lives together, she’d accepted he would always be putting himself in the line of fire, always running into the battle instead of away from it. That was just who he was, the man she’d fallen in love with. He had the means to help, and he would always choose to do so.

But this was different. 

This wasn't the hero bravely stepping back into the ring for another round of a fight. This was her husband throwing himself pointlessly on a sword.

He wasn't strong enough, hadn't had enough time to heal. 

If he went back in there, he could die. 

‘No Clark, not this time. I know this is hard, but we need to wait for back-up,’ she insisted. ‘The boys need you. I need you.’

She could see the swirling conflict in his eyes. His natural instinct to do anything he could to save a life, coming head to head with his responsibility to his family, and his respect of her judgement. 

Just as she saw him relax with a resigned nod, the door to the facility suddenly flew off its hinges, sending the barrel clattering across the floor. 

She felt her dad’s hand on her shoulder, swiftly pushing her down, ushering all three of them out of sight again. A plume of green smoke funnelled through the doorway, and within it, a figure emerged. 

It was Sullivan. 

Lois felt her breath hitch at the sight of the woman she had been half assuming was already dead. She could see the other young soldier following closely behind her. They searched the landscape anxiously for any sign of movement. 

This time it was her dad who leapt into visibility before she could say a word, stepping out from their barely effective hiding place and calling the young woman’s name. The two soldiers rushed across the field, meeting him midway and allowing him to guide them back to their position in the trees. 

Lois was surprised to see they were surprisingly free from injury.  Considering how they’d left them in there, it seemed miraculous neither of them had been hurt.

What exactly had happened down there? And how had the door just been blown open like that? 

There was no time to ask her questions out loud. She could already hear her dad getting them up to date on the DOD’s promise of back-up, letting them know they had a vehicle parked nearby that they should all be making their way towards. 

She could see the relief on Clark’s face at the knowledge he wasn’t going to have to go back in there, that he could just focus on healing now, maybe even let someone else take the lead for once. 

‘What about the others?’ Lois asked, still watching the south side entrance doorway, baffled no one had yet followed them through. 

‘Don’t worry about them,’ Sullivan assured her. ‘They won’t be bothering us any time soon.’ 

She wasn't exactly happy with that non answer, but she could feel her dad’s hand on her back again, encouraging her to move forwards, and she swallowed down her own natural instinct to dig for the truth. 

They headed for the country road that would lead them back to the tire yard. Clark’s strength had improved enough that he was able to fully support himself, but she still held him tightly around the waist. Every second step, she twisted her neck to peer back towards the facility, just willing the soldiers to stay inside, at least until they were out of sight. 

If they could just make it to her dad’s truck, get far enough away to give the DOD time to arrive and shut down any possibility of pursuit…  

Then all they needed to worry about was Anderson himself. 

Where was he right now? Had he found Clark’s doppelganger already? Had her children really been at Tal’s fortress when he arrived, were they in danger too? 

She resisted the urge to reach for her phone as they ran in the direction of her dad’s truck, knowing rationally that they needed to get to safety before she could check in with John Henry. 

Besides, if they could get Clark away from the red solar lights and kryptonite gas for long enough to completely regain his strength… she knew he’d be able to listen for their whereabouts, reach them wherever they were in seconds. 

Until then, there was nothing they could do but wait. 

Jon held Natalie’s panic filled gaze as they huddled against the cave wall. He tried to keep his breath as silent as possible, listening intently to the sounds surrounding them. 

From the thumping and crashing coming from outside, he was pretty certain Anderson and the bizzarro thing were still out there, attacking each other at super speed, bodies colliding with powerful force. Each moment of contact with the ground or the cave itself sounded explosive, shaking the structure around them and sending a light trickle of dust towards them.

He was beginning to wonder if they might be safer going back to the bigger chamber, terrified of the idea that the small cave they’d retreated to might completely cave in, entombing them forever. 

But there was no time to act on the thought. 

With barely a second to react, Jon heard a rumbling sound like thunder, and then the wall beside them caved in, turning instantly to rubble. A red and blue clad body tumbled heavily against the other side of the cave, rocking the structure even more forcefully than before. Jon instinctively pulled Natalie towards him, shielding her as best as he could, pulling them both down into a crouched position as debris cascaded around them. He could feel himself being coated in a thick layer of dust, bracing against the impact of stray clumps of crumbling stone.

Jon froze in that protective position, not knowing what was going on behind them, but not daring to turn around and check, in case the movement drew attention to them. After a few long tense seconds, he finally lifted his head, looking around warily. The sounds of the ongoing battle seemed to have moved further away again, but he knew they could return at any moment. 

‘Are you okay?’ he asked Natalie breathlessly. 

She nodded, looking equally terrified. ‘Where did they go?’

‘I didn’t see,’ Jon said, shaking his head apologetically. 

He searched the vast landscape around them, uncomfortably aware of how completely exposed they now were. Should they go back inside, find another cave? Or should they try and find somewhere else to hide? Maybe it was safer to get as far away from the fortress as they could? 

But then, he needed to be here when Nat’s dad got back with Jordan…

He kicked himself for the wasted time in indecision as Anderson and Bizzarro Kal appeared in their line of sight again, wrestling furiously as they flew through the air. From their trajectory, they seemed to be headed straight back towards them, too embroiled in their struggle for power to care where they landed. 

‘Over here!’ Nat called out, grabbing his arm and dragging him with her as she ducked behind a decent sized jagged rock, cloaked in the fortresses shadow. 

They huddled behind it, staring at one another with wide eyes as they listened to the grunts and groans from both parties. The fight seemed to be growing closer. Jon had a panicked thought that they might just smash right into the rock they were shielding behind, but thankfully they heard them crash into the earth a few metres away. 

Jon forced himself to peak ever so slightly out from behind their cover, fighting every natural instinct in his body to do so. The fear of what might be coming their way just managing to override his desire to avoid additional risk. He needed to know what was happening out there. Anderson seemed to have all of his dad’s powers, which could mean x-ray vision as well. If he spotted their pathetic excuse for a hiding place, they'd be sitting ducks.

The General was only a short distance away from them, but his attention was fixed on his enemy. Jon watched as the man walked over to his dad’s doppelganger, still scrambling in the dirt where he must have landed. He was facing towards them, panting as he struggled to get to his feet, and he seemed weakened by something, holding his chest like he was struggling to breathe. 

Anderson approached him slowly from behind, taking a puff of what looked like an X-K inhaler and breathing in deeply. He smiled with satisfaction as he reached into his pocket and pulled out another, taking the last few steps and grabbing him by the neck of his suit. Jon watched as the man lifted his dad’s doppelganger up, crushing the inhaler right in front of his face. 

Its contents puffed out in a cloud of smoke, seeming to seep right into the man’s every airway, and Jon could hear him clawing for breath. He reached his arm up behind him, desperately clamouring for a good grip on Anderson, but the military man tucked his arm tightly around his enemies neck. He pulled him back against his chest, holding him in a vicious choke hold. 

Jon struggled to understand what was happening. Was X-K making him sick? Did it affect him like Green K did his dad? 

He watched as the thing’s eyes, so similar to his dad’s eyes, flashed with that electric blue, his free hands flailing, grabbing at Anderson’s arm around his throat and frantically trying to force the man to release his death grip. 

Jon could see his movements growing weaker, the man’s face swelling with the pressure. He couldn’t prevent himself from turning away, despite the immediate shame that followed. He just couldn’t do it, couldn’t watch this man, who looked so much like his dad, be killed right in front of his eyes.  

He felt Natalie’s hand on his arm and looked up to see a face full of empathy and understanding. They focused on each other, trying to shut out the sickening gurgling sound of the bizarro Kal’s last few breaths as they sat there helplessly. 

And then there was silence.

A sudden cold silence that somehow seemed louder than if he’d been screaming in agony. 

They didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe, as they waited for any sign of what was coming next. Was this it? If Anderson had really killed that thing… did that mean he was coming from them next? 

The unexpectedly familiar sound of someone taking off into the air at super speed blasted behind them, and suddenly Jon felt a glimmer of hope. Yet still they stayed motionless for another full minute more, not wanting to be lulled into a sense of false security by seeming indication he might be gone. 

When Jon finally dared to move, twisting around to peek back out from their hiding place, it was with both relief and dread that his eyes fell on the sight of bizarro Kal’s body lying lifelessly on the ground, with Anderson nowhere in sight. 

Despite every inner voice inside him screaming to run the other way, something compelled him towards the man. He stepped out from behind the rock, hearing Natalie’s soft warning as she realised what he must be doing, but he kept going. He knew he had to do this. He needed to be sure, needed to know without a doubt that the man was actually dead. 

After all, he’d basically just saved their lives, hopefully helped save his brother’s life, by keeping Anderson occupied all this time. 

He might not have been able to do anything to save him… but he could at least do this.

His dad’s doppelganger lay face down in the dirt, body completely still. Jon bent down beside him, pushing his shoulder and rolling him over onto his back. The pain stricken expression on the man’s face, eyes still wide from the horror of knowing he was about to die, made him jump backwards instinctively, but he forced himself to shake it off, determined to press two fingers up against the man’s throat. 

He needed to confirm for certain there was no pulse, that he wasn’t going to suddenly gasp and come right back to life. 

As he checked for any sign the man’s heart was still beating, he couldn’t prevent his eyes from searching all the similarities between the face before him and his dad’s own.  

Was this what Anderson had in store for him too? Was that where he’d flown off to? Back to wherever he was holding him, to eventually ensure he met the same fate? 

Tears fell freely down his cheeks as Jon pulled his fingers away from the man’s neck. 

There was no heartbeat. 

It was pretty obvious from the glassy emptiness behind those eyes, the man was dead. 

He felt Nat’s hand on his back, offering him some small piece of comfort and he turned around to face her. The concern on her face was enough to break whatever hold he’d had on his own tide of emotion, and he allowed himself to be pulled into her embrace.

She held him for a long moment, and he allowed himself to cry, his body trembling from the shock of everything they’d just witnessed. 

Only the distinctive crunch of metal boots landing in the earth behind them finally pulled them apart.

Chapter Text

‘Over here,’ Sam called out as they raced towards the tire yard. 

His heart hammered in his chest, sweat pouring from his brow as they pounded down the country road, fully exposed to the afternoon sun. He breathed a sigh of relief when the jeep came into view, still sitting right where they’d left it, nestled between two abandoned cars. He’d known rationally it would be there, that there was no indication anyone would have discovered it’s location in the short time they’d been gone. 

Still… their getaway being uninterrupted so far felt like a blessing.  

Where were the other guards anyway? What had Sullivan and Samson done to be so sure they weren't going to immediately follow them?

The two young soldiers were right beside him, matching him toe to toe, eyes locked in the direction he was leading them. He knew those answers still needed to wait, but it was killing him not knowing what to expect, what to be prepared for. He still clutched his pistol in his hand, glancing back the way they came every few seconds, each time just as grateful to see no one was racing towards them. 

Sam slowed down only when they were a few steps from the jeep. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his key fob and bashing its singular button as he pointed it in the jeep’s direction.

‘Get in,’ he instructed once he’d heard the satisfying beep of recognition from the vehicle. 

He waved the soldiers past, before turning around to check on his daughter and son-in-law’s progress, surprised to see they’d stopped a few paces behind.

Sam had been assuming the yellow sun was doing its job, that Clark was recovering well and would be back to normal in no time. When they’d set off from the tree line, he’d seemed to be getting better… holding himself up, making the steps forwards with comparative ease. His colour had seemed to be improving, and some of that aura of strength he so naturally carried was beginning to return. 

Now… he looked as bad as he had done back in his cell. Maybe even worse. 

Clark had one hand burrowed in his hair and the other resting on his thigh, body doubled over slightly as he pulled in raspy breaths. His daughter reluctantly left her husband’s side, looking pushed to the edge of her own anxiety tolerance as she approached.

‘Something’s wrong,’ she said. ‘I thought he was healing at first, but he’s started getting worse.’ 

His heart clenched at the frustrated helplessness he could feel oozing from her, and he couldn’t prevent another wave of guilt coursing through him. He’d been fighting a losing battle with the feeling all day, every unfolding chapter of this nightmare feeling like another piece of evidence of the suffering his decisions had caused. 

After all, he was the one who’d recommended Anderson. He was the one who’d overseen the production of kryptonite gas, authorised the construction of red solar prison cells… he was the one who’d left his position at the DOD, foolishly trusting that it would be in safe hands. 

This was all his fault. 

Clark’s capture. The boys being in danger. Hardcastle’s death… all of it. 

And now… all he could do was try and pick up the pieces, hoping there weren’t still worse consequences to come.  

‘Clark? You okay?’ Sam asked tentatively, moving closer and placing a hand on his son-in-law’s shoulder. 

The young superhero lifted his head, squinting back at him with cloudy eyes. Sweat poured from his brow and his skin looked horribly pale, a tinge of green the only sign of colour. It took a few seconds before he seemed to recognise who was speaking and what was being said, but finally, he sucked in a deep breath, setting his jaw stubbornly and attempting to stand up a little straighter. 

‘I’m good,’ he said with determination, shaking his head like he was trying to shake whatever it was loose. 

He took one firm step forwards as if to prove it, but the small movement was apparently more than his body could handle. The effect was instantaneous. Sam watched in horror as Clark’s eyes started to roll back, head lolling, posture slumping. His instincts kicked in just in time to react, and he managed to reach out his arms, catching his son in law’s body as it completely collapsed against him. 

‘Clark!’ Lois exclaimed, eyes wide with concern. 

‘It’s okay honey, i’ve got him,’ Sam reassured her as he bore Clark’s unconscious weight.

He let the man’s head rest against his chest as he adjusted his footing, trying to keep them both upright as his daughter tried frantically to rouse him, but there was no response. He’d completely passed out. 

They were going to have to carry him.

They didn’t have time to try and wake him up, they needed to move fast, to put as much distance between themselves and the facility as they could. Whatever was going on, the best thing they could do right now was to get him somewhere safe, somewhere they could properly assess his condition. 

‘Samson!’ Sam called out urgently. 

‘General Lane?’ the man responded, stepping back out from the side of the jeep. 

He wasn’t entirely sure the young soldier was reliable, but what choice did he have right now but to trust him? For better or for worse, the five of them were in this together now, and they needed to work as a team if they were going to survive. 

As soon as he saw the General’s predicament, he rushed over, resting his rifle against the jeep and reaching out to take some of the weight. Sam shifted his position, allowing the young man to slip an arm under Clark’s shoulder. 

‘Honey, can you grab his feet?’ he asked his daughter. 

She was starting to give Clark’s pale appearance a run for its money, but she didn’t hesitate, dashing to the other end of her husband’s body and gripping his ankles. Once Sam was sure they all had a secure hold, he nodded to each of them and they began dragging his son-in-law’s unconscious body towards the back of the jeep. 

‘What happened?’ Sullivan exclaimed, leaning out of the vehicle’s side door. 

‘He’s out cold,’ Sam told her, ‘Come on, we need to get him inside.’ 

With great difficulty, they managed to manoeuvre Clark’s body into the back of the jeep, Sullivan taking over from the inside and dragging him in by the shoulders. Sam and Samson supported the rest of him, guiding him into position, laying him as best they could on the middle seat. The young woman held him upright as Lois climbed in after him, letting his head fall back against the headrest. 

As soon as they were done, Sam flew to the front of the jeep, trusting the other soldier to do the same. He switched the safety on his gun, tucked it into the back of his belt and climbed into the driver’s seat, shoving the key into the ignition and immediately bringing the vehicle to life. 

Samson climbed into the passenger seat next to him, searching the horizon, rifle poised and ready. Sam hoped they wouldn’t need to, but he was grateful the young man was still treating this like any other mission, instincts taking over, combat training automatically kicking in. 

He took one last brief moment to glance back at his daughter. She had the back of her hand pressed against Clark’s forehead, holding it there for a moment before letting it trail tenderly down his cheek. 

‘Dad, he’s burning up,’ she said, her voice tight with concern. 

‘Okay, pumpkin, just hold on.’

He slammed his foot to the floor. He didn't even reverse, just drove straight through the wooden fence and into the field beyond. After a quick U-turn that kicked up plumes of dirt, they were back on the road, tyres screeching against the tarmac.

He could feel the jeep shuddering as he pushed its motor to the very limit, but they couldn't afford to take it easy yet. Furtively, he checked every line of sight the vehicle had, twisting around every few seconds to confirm they were still not being followed. 

It suddenly occurred to him, he didn’t even know where they were going. They’d been so focused on getting in, on getting Clark out of that place, they hadn’t had time to think about where they would hole up if they ended up on the run. 

He considered all their options, before settling on John Henry’s place. If Anderson really did know everything, it might still be somewhere he’d think to look… but Sam knew there was at least tech and weaponry in the man’s shop that they could use to protect themselves. Besides, for all they knew, he might be there with the steel suit, and hopefully with the boys and Natalie in tow. It was the best defence they had. 

He heard Sullivan say something to his daughter that he couldn’t make out over the roar of the engine, and his eyes darted backwards and forwards from the road to the rear-view mirror as he tried to see what was going on. He watched as the young soldier pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped it down the side of Clark’s face. She pulled the flimsy fabric away, staring at it sombrely like she’d just confirmed something dire, and showing it to his daughter. 

‘Dad, do you have any water?’ Lois called out urgently, already searching around her before he could reply. 

‘In the glove box,’ he replied. ‘Why, what’s going on?’  

Sam reached over, popping the latch and grabbing the small bottle. He passed it back to his daughter, who immediately began soaking another cloth she’d found.

‘I think it’s the kryptonite gas, Sir,’ Sullivan informed him. ‘Anderson must have modified it. It looks like it’s left a coat of powder all over him.’

She held the handkerchief up so that he could get a better look, and finally he could see the thick green smudge she’d wiped from his skin

It was kryptonite. The stuff was all over him. 

He kicked himself for not realising it sooner, for assuming the tinge of green in his son-in-law’s pallor was just a sign of how unwell he was… apparently, it had been much more literal than that. Dammit, he should have just destroyed the stuff while he'd had the chance, never should have let Clark convince him they might one day need it. They should never have risked something like this happening.

He watched anxiously in the mirror at their efforts to remove the poison from his skin, clenching his teeth against his own self hatred.

‘General, look out,’ he heard Samson screech beside him.

He returned his eyes to the road in an instant, but it was already too late. 

Anderson was standing right in the jeep’s path, only metres away, glaring at them defiantly. He wasn’t going to move. If Sam didn’t do something, they would hit him, head on.

Flashing back to his collision with Tal-Rho last year, Sam’s instincts took over and he swerved to avoid him; but the movement was too sharp, too sudden. He felt the jeep tip, and then they were rolling, tumbling across the tarmac, the body of the vehicle buckling with every collision. 

Panic took hold as his body jolted around, painfully pulling against his seat belt, testing its strength to the limits. His weight briefly floated at the top of each circular motion and then he fell, hard and sudden, as the force of gravity reclaimed him. The window next to him shattered, sending bits of debris flying towards him, but he was unable to shield himself from any impact.

Finally, the jeep came to a stop, rocking slightly as it settled on its roof, leaving its passengers hanging upside down. 

Sam’s vision swam as he blinked a few times in shock, trying to wrestle his mind back into rational thought. It had all happened so fast, there had been no time to process any of it. 

‘Lois,’ he called out before he’d even finished piecing together the chain of events. 

There was no answer. 

He craned his neck around, trying to get a glimpse of his daughter, first just needing to know she was okay. That was all he could think about right now, the only thing that mattered to him in the adrenaline fuelled moment.

He managed to twist far enough that he could see her. Thankfully her seatbelt was still attached, but she seemed to be unconscious, dangling lifelessly where she hung. As well as he could tell through still hazy vision, it looked like the small gash at her hair line was even worse now, droplets of blood collecting and dripping down onto the roof. 

As he followed their trajectory, he could see Clark’s body now sprawled out on the underside of the roof. He groaned slightly, shifting like he was starting to come to, but not quite making it into full consciousness. Sam couldn’t see if he’d been seriously injured, but there were definitely fresh bruises on his face and neck. 

The young soldier dangling in the passenger seat beside him was out cold. His gun hung loosely from his body and there was blood running from his nose like he’d taken a nasty blow to the face. For a horrified moment, Sam considered how lucky they were the gun hadn't gone off.

‘General, are you hurt?’ he heard Sullivan ask, and he twisted to the other side to see her. 

She sounded surprisingly calm, her expression completely unflustered, like she hadn’t just been thrown around like a rag-doll along with the rest of them. There was definitely something weird going on with her, but he had no time to query it further, the memory of Anderson’s unhinged death glare motivating him into movement. 

‘I’m fine,’ he answered gruffly. ‘We need to move, that was Anderson back there in the road.’

Trying to be both careful and fast, he unclipped his seatbelt, clinging on to the back of the steering wheel as he lowered himself, twisting around awkwardly until he was lying on the battered roof of the jeep himself. He could see Sullivan had done the same, and was now reaching up to help his daughter free as well, supporting her body gently as she maneuverer her release. 

He was just reaching over to do the same for Samson, when the sound of glass crunching outside the jeep made them both freeze, eyes darting between each other and the direction of the sound. 

A set of heavy military boots stepped into view. 

Sam held his breath, knowing it was pointless, but irrationally compelled not to make a sound. He reached behind him, pulling out his gun from his belt, and turning the safety off as gently as he could. 

The owner of the boots crouched down, and he saw Anderson’s face come into view, peering in through the smashed out window. That was all the confirmation he needed. Sam fired a single shot, aiming for the man’s shoulder. He didn’t hesitate, seeing enough evidence at Hardcastle’s place and back at the facility to know he was acting in self defence. 

The bullet hit the man, and he flinched slightly in surprise, but to Sam’s horror, he started to smile. 

‘Nice to see you too, General,’ he jeered.  

As soon as they landed outside Tal's fortress, Jordan flew into his brother's embrace, choking back sobs of relief. They were both speechless, unable to find any words to describe their gratitude… but the contact was enough. They clung to each other, just resting in the knowledge they were alive, that they were together again. 

‘What happened?’ John Henry asked, pulling softly from Natalie’s equally relieved reunion. 

Jordan reluctantly relaxed his hold on his brother, taking a small step back but still gripping his arm for reassurance. He scanned his expression, recognising the horror etched into his face. 

‘It was Anderson… he… he killed him,’ Jon explained. 

Jordan followed the direction the others were gazing sombrely, realising for the first time that their dad’s doppelganger's body lay lifeless on the ground. He was embarrassed to have completely blanked it, so focused on getting to his brother he’d kind of blocked out everything else. 

‘He’s gone?’ John Henry asked, glancing around with newly fuelled anxiety. 

Jon and Nat both nodded, but looked unconvinced, barking directions into his suit’s AI to do a full scan of the area.  

Nat’s gaze lingered on her dad for a moment more before she rushed over, pulling Jordan in for a tight hug of her own. 

‘Are you okay?’ she asked, her voice uncharacteristically wobbly. 

It was deeply unsettling seeing either of them look this scared. He was the one who was usually freaking out while the two of them stayed calm. Whatever they’d seen, it must have really thrown them.

‘I’m fine,’ he reassured her. ‘Your dad was right, as soon as we were in direct sunlight, I started rapidly healing. What happened to you guys?’ 

Jon shook his head in dismay. ‘Anderson’s jacked up on X-K. He’s completely unhinged. He… he strangled him. We were hiding, we couldn't do anything to stop it…’

Jordan recognised the misplaced guilt in his brother’s words, but there was a deeper fear there too. The same fear that he was starting to feel growing within himself. 

‘Do you… do you think he's gone back for Dad?’ Jordan asked.

His brother simply stared back at him, eyes wide with concern. How could either of them deny the possibility? The man had imprisoned their dad… and if what the bizzarro Kal had said back in the fortress was true… he’d been torturing him. What if the man decided to kill him too? 

Was this how their dad was going to end up? 

Jordan peered down at the doppelganger's body, a horrified shudder coursing through him. 

John Henry turned back towards them, somehow looking even more worried than he had before. 

‘I’m not getting any response from your mom or your grandad,’ he revealed. 

Jordan felt his heart drop. He hadn’t even thought about them being in danger too. 

‘Last I heard, they were headed to rescue your dad,’ he continued, seemingly noticing the obviously confused and mortified look on his face. 

Jordan didn’t even wait to explain what he was doing. He closed his eyes, focusing his hearing on the sounds he recognised as his mom. Her heart beat. The tone of her voice. The rest of the world faded as a cacophony of random sounds became only distant background, allowing him to locate specific noises. For a second, he thought he had it, eyes flying open in excitement… but then it began to fade. He was sure he’d heard the steady rhythm of her hear, but there was something  just slightly off with his hearing, and he couldn’t hold on to it, couldn’t stay with it long enough to feel out where she was.  

Jon was watching him intensely, willing him to fill him in on what he didn’t have the power to hear himself. 

‘I… I think I heard mom’s heartbeat, but I can’t figure out where she is…’ Jordan admitted finally, rubbing his temples as his head began to throb. ‘I think my powers are still slightly off.’ 

‘There must be something else we can try,’ Natalie said. 

Jordan was surprised to find his brother’s expression turning hopeful again, looking like he'd just remembered something important.

‘Grandma Lara,’ he said hurriedly. ‘She said she was going to scan for Dad’s location…’ 

No one needed to hear more, the suggestion implicit. All four of them took off towards the fortress wordlessly, heading straight inside through the huge gaping hole in the wall, and quickly locating the main chamber. 

‘Jonathan, Jordan!’ Lara called out as soon as they entered. She sounded as relieved as an AI hologram could. ‘I was concerned that man may have caused you harm.’

‘We’re okay Grandma,’ Jordan assured her. ‘Did you manage to find dad?’ 

She paused, looking thoughtful for a moment like she was checking something in her system, and then finally she spoke again. 

‘Yes, I've been able to successfully locate his unique biometric signature. It’s in Smallville,’ she declared, bringing up a holographic map to show them exactly where. 

Jordan looked at his brother in surprise, but he was already squinting at the map, accepting the unexpected close proximity to their home and focusing instead on trying to work out exactly where their dad was. 

‘That’s out by the abandoned corn factory,’ his brother observed. ‘But… why would they be there?’ 

‘I don't know, there’s nothing in the DOD’s records that indicates a location in Smallville…’ John Henry told them. ‘It doesn’t matter, I've got to go and check it out.’

‘We’re coming with you,’ Jordan stated firmly. 

He could see the immediate disapproval on the man’s face, but there was no way he was going to be persuaded otherwise. He wasn’t just going to wait around here while both his parents and his grandad were possibly in danger, not when he knew he could help. 

‘Jordan, it's too dangerous,’ John Henry began to push back predictably. 

‘It’s dangerous here too,’ Jon pointed out beside him. Jordan was grateful to see the same look of conviction on his brother’s face. ‘What happens if Anderson comes back? We’re sitting ducks here. At least if we’re in Smallville, we have a better chance of defending ourselves.’ 

Jordan could see the conflict swirling behind John Henry’s eyes, until his daughter took a step towards him.

‘Please dad. The boys are right, we need to stick together right now.’ 

John Henry’s gaze lingered on his daughter for a moment before he finally conceded. 

‘Okay, but you are staying well out of sight, and you will not put yourselves in harm's way for any reason, do you hear me?’ 

Jordan nodded gratefully, his brother and Nat doing the same beside him eagerly. With everything they’d just been through, he could see how much they all wanted to get the hell away from there, to be somewhere more familiar.

Even if that meant coming up against Anderson once again. 

Chapter Text

The unrelenting awareness of pain pulled Clark into consciousness. He let out a low moan, dazed and disoriented, opening his eyes and squinting at the nightmare around him. The jeep was a mess: windows smashed in, doors bent and twisted. He lay crumpled against the overturned vehicle's roof, limbs at awkward angles beneath him.

They must have crashed, but... why couldn't remember anything? He didnt even remember leaving the tire yard...

The mingling scent of petrol and burnt rubber hit the back of his throat and he started to cough, forcing himself on to his side as he tried to steady his breathing. Broken glass crunched beneath him as he moved, until his eyes landed on his wife’s unmoving body and he froze.

A wave of dread flooded through him.

‘Lois?’ he called out sharply. 

Silence answered. She lay on her back, head tipped towards him, the small gash at her hair line now much deeper. Trails of blood streaked down her face. He didn’t want to hurt her by moving her, but every instinct screamed at him to get her out of there. As firmly as he dared, he shook her again, calling her name with growing urgency. 

The horrifying sound of gunfire blasted through the air outside the jeep, and Clark stilled again, holding his breath as he listened intently for any sign it was moving closer. Fear coursed through him as he waited, until finally, another sound floated towards him. His father-in-law’s voice, strained and heavy, called out a name, confirming Clark’s worst fear. 

Anderson. 

The knowledge his captor was out there sent another wave of panic rocketing through him. He resented himself for it, resented his body’s instinctive response; but he couldn't escape it. His nervous system’s alarm bells were too loud to be ignored. 

Anderson had tormented him, tortured him, broken him; and that was before he’d dosed himself with X-K. Now he likely had all of his powers, and none of his weaknesses. Not to mention Anderson was potentially even more psychotic than before, if he'd found Clark's bizzaro doppelganger and satisfied his murderous intent. 

Clark could still feel the presence of kryptonite, a thin layer of residue clinging to his skin, keeping his strength from fully returning. He had no idea if he’d be strong enough to even stand up for long, let alone fight anyone. 

He squinted in the direction of the gun shots, testing to see if his x-ray vision had returned, but all he got for his efforts was a throbbing in his temples. 

Dammit, how was he supposed to protect anyone like this? 

How was he supposed to keep his family safe? 

A gut-churning sense of shame reminded him unhelpfully of whose fault it was they were in trouble in the first place, but he couldnt think like that now. He needed to focus, not go spiralling into useless regret. Closing his eyes briefly, he tried to steady himself, to regain some control. Drawing on whatever strength he’d so far recovered, he shifted his attention back to his wife, to what he could do for her here, now.

She’d put everything she had into getting him out of that facility, somehow managing to be strong enough for the both of them… now it was his turn to keep going, to keep fighting. The more he focused on his wife’s unrelenting determination, the more he felt his own conviction building within, over powering his fear. 

He was done letting this sadistic lunatic ruin his life. He was going to end this.

Adrenaline caught up with him, boosting his drive to action even more, and he searched the jeep for the best route of escape. Behind him, he could see one of the back doors had been torn right off its hinges. He slid his hands under his wife's shoulders, ignoring the broken glass scratching painfully against his skin. As carefully as possible in the cramped space, he pulled her towards him, backing up slowly out of the jeep and onto the road. 

Once they were completely free of the vehicle, he rested her on the ground for a second. His head spun violently as he tried to steady himself, sucking in a few deep breaths. The sun's light was already washing away some of the ache in his bones, but it was fighting a war with the lingering kryptonite, pulling his energy levels in opposite directions.

‘Clark?’ 

The sound of his wife’s voice seemed even more healing than the sun. Relief flooded through him as he returned her gaze, lifting her up into a sitting position, leaning against the jeep’s frame. 

‘Lois, are you okay?’ he whispered. 

Trying to get a better look at her head wound, he tucked her hair behind her ear, cupping her face in his hand. Thankfully, it didn’t look as deep as the amount of blood made it seem, but she still needed urgent medical attention… and he had no idea where they were.

‘I’m… what’s going on?’ she asked.

Fear and confusion swirled begind her eyes as they fixed on something behind him. He turned to see one of the young soldiers who’d helped them escape spread out on in the dirt a few feet from the jeep, also unconscious, but still breathing, chest rising and falling. The way he'd been positioned, it seemed like someone had pulled him free from the jeep and then had to abandon him there. 

‘I don’t know,’ he said, meeting her gaze with apology. 

Just as he began to stand, to asses the situation beyond the jeep, the sound of something smashing explosively into the road beyond forced him back down. He shielded his wife protectively, listening intently as a series of grunts and growls followed, mixed in with an onslaught of shorter, furious thuds of impact.

Clark pulled back, meeting his wife’s concerned gaze. He was reluctant to leave her… but he couldn't just stay huddled there, hoping whatever it was would just go away. Seemed like she knew it too. With a sigh, she nodded her head in the direction of the strained sounds. 

‘I'm fine, go… just be careful,’ she said. 

Rising to his feet fully, he took a few short steps out from behind the jeep, taking in the chaos on the other side.

A few metres away, Anderson was locked in a wrestling match with Sullivan. The young woman was fighting back with surprising force. She twisted out of his grip, pulling her fist back and landing a solid punch to his torso, sending him flying through the air and crashing into the road hard enough to kick up bits of tarmac. 

Clark watched in disbelief as the woman super sped over to where Anderson had fallen. It didn't take a genius to figure out she must be on X-K too, but he hadn't considered the possibility, hadn’t imagined she'd have stolen some from whatever store Anderson had tucked away. It all made sense now though. How she'd taken care of the other guards. How she'd gotten Samson and herself out of that facility without a scratch…

A pained groan caught his attention, and he searched for the source, eyes falling quickly on his father in law. Sam was resting against one of the jeeps' front wheels, clutching his leg with one hand, pistol still raised in the other. From the wild and shaken expression on his face, it looked like Anderson had come for Sam first, before Sullivan had time to intervene. 

Clark tried to just be thankful he was alive, but the sight of the man’s injuries only added to his persistent sense of guilt. He shouldn’t have gone with them, should have insisted they leave him back at the facility. He’d known it was only putting them right in the line of Anderson’s fire once the man returned from the fortress, but he’d allowed himself to be reassured by the comforting promise of escape. 

Everything that happened from this point on was on him. 

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

‘Don't worry about me, Clark, i’m fine,’ Sam said through gritted teeth. ‘Where’s Lois?’

‘Behind the jeep’ Clark said. ‘She needs a doctor, Sam.’ 

‘The DOD are on the way. If Sullivan can just hold him off for a few minutes…’ he trailed off.

As much as the knowledge of back-up and potential medical care should have reassured him, Clark couldn’t help but feel another twist of anxiety in his gut. He was pretty sure by now that Anderson's operation was completely off the books, but they still had no idea who within the DOD had been a part of this.

Would they be coming to stop him? Or was it possible they'd be on his side?

Clark felt something wet splash against his cheek. He felt a few more cold droplets fall, looking up and confirming a sudden onslaught of rain was beginning to pick up speed. Immediately he felt relief as the cool water washed over him, the rain slowly diluting the kryptonite residue on his skin, causing it to drip from his body onto the road below. It seemed like the clouds had appeared out of nowhere, and he thanked whatever god’s there were for the bit of good fortune. 

He allowed himself a few seconds to bask in the soothing sensation, but his attention was still trained on Sullivan’s ongoing fight. Anderson began rising slowly, animalistic fury tightening all the muscles in his neck. The young soldier stood over him, heat vision burning behind her eyes, stance full of confidence. She blasted a stream of energy at him, and he threw up both arms like a shield, fending off her attack. It looked like she had him on the back foot, and Clark felt himself almost daring to hope she might just win this fight… that maybe this would all be over, and he could just get his family home. 

But then she faltered. 

Only slightly at first, but her heat vision flickered repeatedly, becoming more and more spotty until it abruptly stopped. A look of panic swept over her and then she was grimacing in pain, hand flying to her forehead. She lost her balance and fell limply to her knees with a groan. 

Anderson smiled cruelly, sadistically. He didn't waste the unexpected advantage for a second, grabbing her by the throat at super speed and lifting her up as she struggled for breath. 

Whatever power she’d briefly had, it was now gone. The X-Ks effects must have run out.

He was going to kill her if he didn't do something. 

‘Clark…’ Sam breathed beside him.

He couldn't tell if it was a warning or an encouragement, but he knew he had to move, couldn’t just stand there and watch as the woman who'd potentially saved his life was strangled to death before his very eyes. 

With as much speed as his body was able to summon, Clark charged across the tarmac, building up momentum until he was only a few steps away, before leaping forwards, hurling his body in Anderson’s direction. Clark grabbed the man around the middle, crashing into him with more force than he'd realised he had. Anderson clearly hadn't expected the attack, his grip around Sullivan’s throat loosening immediately. The General dropped her to the ground as Clark's momentum carried them through the air.

After only a few metres, they hit the road, the force of their landing digging up a trench in the tarmac. Clark lost his grip on Anderson's torso, and they rolled away from each other, tumbling a few times before coming to a stop. There was no time to catch his breath, every second a potential life saving advantage. Clark pushed himself up, scrambling to his feet in a race for dominance, his enemy doing the same just a few steps away. 

Clark rose first, feeling a strength he hadn’t felt all day. He squared himself in a stance of readiness for whatever came next, meeting Anderson’s furious gaze with his own. Unexpectedly the man’s indignant anger shifted, and he scoffed, brushing off the debris from the dusty road like it was nothing but a brief annoyance. 

‘Glad you could join us, Clark,’ he jeered. 

Clark swallowed his disgust at the man’s use of his real name. It wasn't that he was saying it loud enough for Sullivan to hear - he was pretty sure, after all this was over, that he owed her the truth anyway - but the sound of it only served to remind him of how he'd found out in the first place. Of the torment Anderson had put him through over the last few days, the trauma of being forcefully drugged with a truth serum, and having all his secrets laid bare.

‘Stand down,’ he growled at the man, allowing all his pent up rage into his voice. 

Clark could feel heat vision building up behind his eyes, could feel the intensity of power building within him, despite the now overcast clouds blocking the unfiltered sun. Conviction and confidence built alongside it, pushing back against the voices of self doubt that had crept in. It didn't matter what Anderson had done to him when he'd been stripped of his powers and his dignity. It didn't matter that the man was trying to play super villain with XKs borrowed strength. Clark was Superman. He'd been fought worse monsters than this for decades. He could down one kryptonite enhanced lunatic. 

He just had to believe in himself again. 

‘Or you'll what?’ Anderson said dismissively. ‘In case you haven't noticed Superman, i’m the one with the power now.’

‘You have no idea what real power is, or what it means,’ he said with authority. ‘It’s over, Anderson. I’m not going to let you hurt anyone else.’

‘Oh no?’ Anderson smirked at him. ‘Not even your treasonous father in law? Or maybe I should take care of your wife first?’ 

Clark saw the man make the slightest flinch in their direction and he was moving again, letting out a frustrated cry as he crossed the short distance between them. He crashed into Anderson like a frieght train, this time pulling them upwards as he did. Clark flew them both into the air, holding his enemy tightly in his grip. He wanted to keep the fight as far away from the ground as he could manage, as far away from Anderson's threatened targets… and if he could get them both through the clouds and into the charging effects of the sun, that would be an added bonus. 

‘What's the matter Superman,’ Anderson growled, ‘Afraid a measly human like me might just over power you? That I might hurt someone you love’ 

The man’s hate filled expression was far too close for comfort as he wrestled to keep hold of him, wind and rain whipping around them as they continued their ascent.  

‘That’s never going to happen,’ Clark pushed back 

‘Oh but I already have!’ Anderson taunted, eyes flashing with predatory delight.

The words threw Clark just enough for him to loosen his grip, and Anderson twisted free, immediately halting in their flight path and hovering in position. He briefly glancing back down at the road before shooting towards Clark again, ramming into him and forcing him back down, their body’s twisting as they wound through the air. 

The General clutched the sleeves of Clark’s jacket, pulling him in close as he hissed cruelly, ‘I shot your son.’

The statement had the effect he’d know it would, throwing Clark off completely, allowing Anderson to grip him by the throat without much defense. He pulled his fist back and delivered a powerful blow to his jaw. 

‘You're lying!’ Clark screamed, ignoring the jarring pain rocking through him.

His eyes bore into the other man’s with intensity, searching for any sign his accusation was true. He had to be lying, didn't he? He was just taunting him, playing on his fears, knowing exactly what buttons to push to make him think his worst fears had come true. 

Clark felt a rising nausea as he saw the snake-like satisfaction on the man’s face, his heart-beat steady and even as he relished in his apparent truth. He wasn't lying. He meant it 

Clark lost all control. 

The heat vision that had been building up behind his eyes surged out of him, blasting towards Anderson with such unexpected fury the man had no time match it with his own. It hit him in the chest, thrusting him forwards and sending him into a tail spin.

Throbbing pain returned to Clark’s temples at the force of his outburst, but he drew on every energy reserve he had left, fighting his own rising panic at the man’s claims. His own heart rate became erratic as he focused his super hearing, pushing away all thoughts of his ongoing battle as he stretched out its search radius, honing in on two particular sounds

His sons heart beats. 

Clark was too distracted to resist when Anderson grabbed him, too focused on his search to bother defending himself as the man landed a blow to his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him painfully and momentarily interrupting his search. He let out an anguished cry as the man cruelly squeezed his shoulder, digging his thumb in where he knew Clark’s bullet wounds were still healing. 

Clark tried to ignore all of it, resuming his search, straining as he scanned through every sound he passed through. 

‘Fight back, dammit,’ Anderson screeched as he punched him again, this time hitting him square in the face and sending blood streaming from his nose. 

As the man pulled back, readying himself to deliver another blow, Clark finally heard them. His son's distinctive heartbeats were unmistakable to him, memorised since the day they were born. They pounded thick and fast, at a rate that gave no indication either of them were hurt. 

The anvil that had formed in his stomach melted away, and he could breathe again. 

They were alive.

They were okay. For now. 

His momentary relief was replaced by a newfound anxiety as he realised they were seemingly getting closer. The knowledge brought his awareness back to Anderson with urgency. If they were headed in his direction, Clark needed to end this, now, before the man could do anything else to hurt them. 

He threw his fist towards the sadistic General, landing a blow across to cheek that threw his head back. Anderson lurched away, giving Clark just enough time to reorient himself to their location. He scanned the landscape below, noticing the sound of sirens heading their way, and he zoomed his telescopic vision in their direction. A convoy of vehicles was flying down the road, lights flashing, seemingly headed right for the upturned jeep. From the military garb and automatic weapons of the people inside, he felt safe to assume it was the DOD, the supposed cavalry finally arriving. 

Clark spotted Sam’s outline limping into the road, waving the vehicles down, and they screeched to a stop, bodies swarming out onto the tarmac, pointing vaguely into the skies above and loading their weapons. Clark searched for Anderson, surprised to see him looking irrationally betrayed by the DOD’s arrival. 

‘Small minded idiots,’ he seethed.

Before he could react, the General sped past him, flying straight for them. Clark followed him immediately, thrusting after him as fast as he could, but the man sent a stream of heat vision blasting towards the military convoy before he could catch up. Soldiers leapt in every direction, shielding themselves as best they could as their vehicles exploded, but several of them were still much too close. Clark shifted his focus, speeding towards a cluster of soldiers who’d been thrown into the air, catching them before they hit the ground and placing them safely at the side of the road where Sam and Lois stood, arms still raised to sheild from the unexpected attack.

Despite the continued rain hammering down on them, Clark could feel the heat from the out of control flames behind him.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked quickly.

He scanned his wife from head to toe, water dripping down both of their faces, hair completely drenched. She shivered slightly, and Clark could feel her concern boring into him, but she nodded silently anyway. 

Something caught Lois' attention behind him and Clark turned, following her gaze. Anderson was standing just a few feet away, any remnant of his former rational self seemingly completely gone as he glared at him, teeth bared, eyes still glowing eyes. 

‘Anderson, you have to stop! It’s not too late to turn yourself in,’ Sam cried out, eliciting nothing more than an amused smirk. 

‘I don’t answer to the DOD anymore,’ he said coldly. 

And then he was flying towards them, the sudden action taking Clark by surprise. He managed to move just in time, grabbing Anderson by the front of his shirt and fly him up into the air again, driving them away from any civilian collateral. 

Anderson's hands clamped brutally around Clark's throat, desperately trying to squeeze the life out of him as they flew. Clark pulled their flight path up as much as possible, grabbing at Anderson’s arms and yanking as hard as he could to create even a fraction of room to breathe. He couldn’t tell how far away from the chaos below he’d managed to guide them, when the General finally relaxed his grip, shoving him away like discarded trash. 

Anderson's eyes glimmered with hatred as he pulled something from his pocket that Clark couldn’t quite make out. 

There was something about the look on the man's face that brought his earlier anxiety right back to the surface. It was the same look he'd given Clark back in the lab, when he'd had him chained to a metal table. 

It was a look of hungry dominance, like he knew he was about to bring him to his knees. 

Too suddenly, Anderson was flying through the air again, bee lining straight for him. Clark braced for impact, recognising the sensation of kryptonite’s insidious effects when he was only inches away. Anderson grabbed him by the front of his jacket with one hand, raising his other arm back to strike. He tried feebly to pull at his vice grip, but wherever the kryptonite was it was quickly eroding his recovered strength, sending searing pain coursing through him once again. 

Clark watched as the man brought his free hand back, and he could finally see what he was clutching - a needle, filled with liquid kryptonite, glowing ominously. 

‘The rest of the world might still be fooled by your hero act, but I know the truth,’ Anderson hissed. ‘Kryptonians are a threat to the entire human species. Someone has to put you down.’ 

The General brought his arm down, thrusting the needle towards his target's neck, but Clark managed to just catch him, grunting as he struggled to keep the sharp metal from touching his skin. 

This couldn't be happening. He couldn't let him do this, couldn't let him win. 

And yet… he could feel himself losing the battle of strength, terror coursing through him as he felt Anderson’s power overwhelming his own. 

Clark watched helplessly as Anderson’s pressure won out and the needle burrowed into his neck, easily penetrating his skin. He cried out in agony, the area around the puncture point immediately burning with searing hot pain. The man pressed down on the plunger mercilessly, emptying the needles contents into his veins. 

The sensation of the poisonous liquid now coursing through him felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside. The violent agony was unbearable. Clark tried to scream but could only gag hoarsely, the muscles in his neck and throat tightening so intensely he could barely breathe let alone make a sound.

Anderson let him go with a satisfied smirk. Clark struggled to stay airborne as his body began twisting and convulsing against the unwelcome invasion of his system. Darkness pushed at the edge of his vision, but he fought to stay conscious, knowing if he didnt it was over.

Gravity finally overpowered him, and he started to fall, tumbling through the air, limbs falling limp, body sagging as he picked up speed.

Apparently not content to just let Clark fall to his death in peace, Anderson flew after him, fists outstretched like he planned to see this through all the way, to attack at any sign of recovery. Or maybe he simply wanted to force him even further into the ground when he finally, inevitably hit the earth. 

It was obvious from the blind killer instinct behind his eyes, Anderson wanted him dead. 

And he couldn't do anything to stop him. 

The kryptonite flowing through him was all consuming. There was no fighting this off, no big come back he could summon up from some hidden pocket of strength. Hot tears stung his eyes as he weakly attempted to fight back anyway, to at least try and regain control of any part of his nervous system… but he knew it was hopeless. 

He'd lost. 

Anderson had won. 

Flashes of memory danced through his mind, images of his friends warm faces, his sons’ embrace, Lois' beautiful smile. Clark silently expressed his love for all of them, wishing he could tell them how grateful he was for them, tell them he was sorry, so so unendingly sorry, that he'd failed.

The wind whipped around him as his speed picked up, Anderson still shooting towards him, eyes wild with elation. 

They were descending fast, Clark’s vision fading in and out as the kryptonite in his system pulled at his consciousness… when he thought he saw Anderson's flight path wobble slightly. 

It was such a short blip, he was quick to dismiss it as a hopeful hallucination, but then it happened again, too abrupt and shaky this time to be mistaken. 

A flash of fear crossed the man’s features as he seemingly recognised what was happening. Clark watched through blurry vision as Anderson reached into his pocket, fumbling for something inside that seemingly wasn't there. The man's head whipped back up, staring at Clark with now unmistakeable terror.

Through his own haze of pain and nausea, he could see Anderson's surprisingly fast transition from flying to falling. The General's arms started flailing, and he struggled to keep his balance, suddenly no more in control of his trajectory than Clark was. 

‘Nooooooo!’ the man cried out pointlessly. 

Clark strained his neck, twisting and squinting at the scene below. They were only a few hundred metres from the ground, moving too fast and too hard. There was no way either of them were going to survive the impact. 

They were going to die.

He was horrified at the thought, in spite of everything the man had done to him. His only solace as he prepared for their impact, was that at least Anderson's death would prevent him from hurting anyone else.

Clark closed his eyes, not wanting the last thing he saw to be Anderson's hateful and desperate glare…

And then something crashed into him.

He felt arms grabbing him around the waist, yanking him away from the nearing ground and pulling him back up through the air. 

Managing to pry his eyes open briefly, Clark could just about make out the familiar logo of his son’s hoodie, before darkness descended once again. 

Chapter Text

Sam took in the sight of his successor with a heavy heart. Anderson’s lips were blue, skin pale and sunken. He’d been hooked up to a ventilator, unable to breath on his own. The heart monitor’s steady rhythm confirmed he was alive… but he looked like a shadow of his former self. The empty carcass of a man possessed, now laying discarded, abandoned. 

Sam swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat, confused at his own conflicting feelings. What the man had done was beyond forgivable. Sam could never have predicted how horrifically Anderson would abuse the power he’d entrusted to him. Maybe the man’s fragile state should even have felt like a satisfying end somehow; a kind of karmic poetic justice.

But all Sam felt was a clawing sense of regret.  

‘Dammit, Mitch… why didn’t you just come to me…’ 

Sam shook his head listlessly. It was just such a goddamn waste of a life. A waste of the potential the man had once had, to do some good in this world. How the hell had Anderson gotten things so twisted? He’d shot Sam’s grandson, threatened Sam’s daughter… and tortured his son-in-law for days. All out of some misguided sense of protecting the human race?

It was terrifying to think how quickly someone could be driven to such mindless xenophobic paranoia.  

‘General, what are you doing in here? You are supposed to be resting!’

His doctor’s unreasonably scolding voice drifted towards him and he spun around awkwardly, hopping on his still healing leg. Her expression matched her tone, and she crossed her arms firmly over her chest. The DOD’s head of medical staff wasn’t exactly one for a soft bedside manner. Usually he appreciated that… but now that he was the reluctant patient, she was driving him insane . 

‘Too much bed rest is bad for my mental health,’ Sam replied, putting on his best attempt at a charming smile.

She raised her eyebrows, apparently unconvinced. 

‘Oh, so now you care about your mental health?’

He nodded his head towards Anderson. ‘Can you just give me an update on his status?’ 

The doctor eyed him reluctantly for a moment before deciding to allow him that much. ‘Well, he’s much better than he would have been. If Steel hadn’t reached him in time.’

There was a surprising lack of sympathy in her voice. Guess word had gotten around pretty fast of what Anderson had done: to Superman, to the soldiers out on the road, to Hardcastle. In fact, she and Hardcastle had been friends, hadn’t they? From the mixture of anger and grief on the doctor’s face as she forced a look in Anderson’s direction, he wondered if they’d been closer than he’d known. 

‘But he’s stable?’ Sam clarified, not wanting to keep her there too long.

She wasn’t a direct part of the man’s medical team, and Sam was beginning to understand why.  

‘For now,’ she nodded coldly. ‘Without the ventilator… his system’s simply unable to function on its own. It was the X-K. The amount he inhaled caused massive organ failure. We don’t know if he’ll ever fully recover.’

‘Has he been lucid at all since he’s been here? Has he said anything?’

‘No, nothing,’ she said coldly. ‘He was placed in a medically induced coma as soon as he arrived. We’re still assessing whether there is any permanent brain damage, but honestly Sam… I don’t think he’ll be speaking again.’

Sam nodded solemnly. It felt sickening to be somewhat relieved… but Anderson knew everything. All his families' secrets. And there was no doubt in Sam’s mind that he would weaponise that information at any stage if he could. 

‘Now, shall I help you back to your room?’ she asked, gesturing towards the door. 

Sam sighed. God, she never gave up, did she? 

‘Just give me five minutes,’ he negotiated. ‘I promise I'll be back for whatever slop they’re calling lunch today.’ 

The woman seemed close to protest, but obviously thought better of it, dropping her hands to her sides and sighing with exasperation. 

‘Okay… but if I have to come and look for you again I'm putting in a request for restraints!’

Sam managed a crooked half smile at what he hoped was a joke, and watched her dissapear out of sight. 

Somberly, he returned his attention to Anderson. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t shake the uncomfortable presence of guilt swirling within him. After all, stockpiling the X-K from the mines had been his idea, hadn’t it? 

His instinct to investigate any possible methods of defence from super human attack, had once again resulted in harm to his family. 

They still had no idea how much of Anderson’s behaviour had been a side effect of the X-K use. How addictive the substance was, how much it might have warped the General’s mind… but it had to have contributed somewhat to his declining sanity. 

Dammit, that stuff should never have been so easily available to the man in the first place. 

Even more horrifying, the stuff had somehow found its way onto the black market and into public consumption. Had ended up in Smallville, making its way into the hands of high school students.

His grandson had even been using the stuff… 

A shudder rippled through him at the thought of Jon laying in that hospital bed in Anderson’s place.

He should have ordered every ounce of it destroyed.

‘Dad?’ 

Sam spun around at the sound of his daughter’s voice, almost forgetting his injured leg and wincing at the sharp movement. 

‘Hey Pumpkin… you okay?’ He attempted to cover up with a reassuring smile. 

‘Yeah, I'm fine,’ she said, wrapping her arms around her torso protectively. ‘Are you okay? Why are you out of bed?’

Sam sighed, glancing down at his bandaged leg. ‘I… was just heading back.’ 

‘Okay,’ Lois nodded despondently  her gaze lingering on Anderson in the bed behind him. 

Sam watched as she moved a few steps closer, until she stood right beside him, taking a long, anxious look at the unconscious man.

His heart ached at the cold horror haunting her  features. Anderson had caused his daughter so much pain these last few days; and yet, the brutality of the man’s fate still disturbed her. 

Sam stood there beside her in silence for a moment, as though paying a vigil. It wasn't even necessarily about Anderson… the unspoken moment seemed to represent an end to all of it. All the fighting. All the fear and uncertainty. 

‘I’m sorry, Lois, I should have seen this coming. I should never have let it get this far…’ Sam finally broke the silence. 

The words came tumbling from his mouth. He needed his daughter to know he was taking responsibility for this. That he’d never let it happen again. 

Unexpectedly, she scowled back at him, the look so impulsive he found it oddly reassuring. 

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said bluntly. ‘There was no way anyone could have known this was going to happen.’

‘I was the head of the DOD, I should have…’

‘Dad, just… don’t, okay’ she said firmly. ‘What happened with Anderson isn’t your fault, end of story.’

He opened his mouth to protest, but the warning look in her eyes gave him pause. He knew that look. She’d more than made her mind up, and there was no way she was changing it. He was just lucky, this time, he’d landed on her good side. 

‘Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done without you these last few days,’ she continued. ‘I never could have gotten Clark out of there without your help. You risked everything for us, and I will always be grateful for that.’ 

Sam took a few steps toward her, pulling her into his embrace. 

‘You know I'll always be there for you, Pumpkin,’ he said softly. 

‘I mean it,’ she said, pulling back and meeting his gaze with sincerity. ‘You really came through, Dad.’ 

Sam pulled her back in, a lump forming in his throat again, but for very different reasons this time. 

It had been a hell of a year so far, facing the consequences of his past failures in parenting. He knew there was still a huge mess to work through with Lucy when he finally got out of there, and he still felt so much responsibility for her landing in Ally’s clutches. 

Still, there was no point skulking around, beating himself up about the past. All he could do was keep showing up for his girls in whatever way he could, now, today. Maybe, if he was really lucky, there was still time to turn things around.

‘Miss Lane?’ 

Sam lifted his head, feeling his daughter do the same. The voice was coming from a friendly looking nurse standing in the doorway with a warm smile on her face. 

‘I was told to come and find you when Superman was awake?’

Relief flooded over his daughter’s face like a waterfall, and she pulled out of his arms, glancing back at him briefly, her expression still full of gratitude. 

‘Go,’ he said, nodding towards the door. ‘I’ll be right outside if you need anything. I promise.’ 

More than ever, he knew he meant it. 

He was never going to abandon her again. 

Lois hovered in the doorway to the private hospital room, smiling softly at the patient within. Her husband was sitting upright in bed, eyes closed, face bathed in sunlight. The huge window on the far wall covered almost its entire surface, specially designed to provide as much access to earth’s yellow sun as possible. 

Clark was looking better. A lot better. The sight washed away almost all of the lingering tension in her body. It had been a hell of a battle to get here, and so much had gone wrong, she’d had a hard time letting herself truly believe it was done until she knew he was awake. Until she’d seen for herself that he was on the mend. 

Finally, she could allow herself to let go. 

It was over. Clark was okay. The boys were okay. Her dad was okay. She was okay. Anderson was gone, and the rest of his soldiers were dealing with the consequences of their actions. 

There was nothing left to fight. Well… nothing physical anyway. 

It took him a few seconds to notice her arrival, but his eyes flew open, searching gaze meeting hers in an instant. She could see Clark’s own relief matching hers, the glow radiating from him skin seeming even brighter. 

‘Hey,’ she said warmly. 

‘Hey,’ he responded, his voice still a little hoarse.

The simple word filled her with joy. Lois crossed the room, placing her hand in his, needing the physical contact. She let her free hand stroke down the side of his face, and he closed his eyes again, comforted by the reassuringly familiar touch. 

‘How are you feeling?’ she asked. 

‘Better… I think,’ he said. 

His wariness was proven justified immediately as a coughing fit caught him off guard. Lois glanced around, spying a plastic cup of water on a table next to the bed and handing it to him. He winced as he leaned forwards, taking the water gratefully and giving it a careful sip. 

Once the coughing stopped, he relaxed back against the pillow, looking exhausted all over again. Lois couldn’t hide the concern on her face.

‘It’s okay,’ he reassured her. ‘They said it’ll take a few days for the kryptonite to fully clear out of my system, but i’m going to be fine.’ 

Lois smiled weakly. ‘I thought I'd lost you.’

‘I know… me too,’ he admitted, ‘But I'm okay. We’re okay. 

Lois nodded, swallowing away the lump in her throat. Those last few moments before John Henry and the boys arrived had been hellish. She’d thought she was about to watch her husband die, just standing there, helpless to do anything to stop it. 

‘The boys?’ he asked urgently. 

‘They’re both fine,’ she assured him. 

But he continued looking agitated. ‘Anderson… he said he’d done something…’ 

‘Shh, they’re both okay, Clark, I promise.’

He relaxed a bit, obviously not completely satisfied but seemingly willing to back down for now and trust her.

Lois felt a little guilty not telling him the truth about what had happened out there in Tal’s fortress… but she wanted him focused on getting better, not beating himself up over the boys being in danger.  All he needed to know was that they were alive and well… he didn’t need to know about things that had almost happened. Not yet. 

‘They never should have been a target in the first place,’ he said, voice filled with regret. 

Wow… so he was going to beat himself up anyway, huh? Guess she should have known him better by now… 

Still, the words sounded heavier than simple regret. She could see from the way he was shifting his gaze, he was seemingly ashamed of himself. Maybe more so than she’d ever seen him. 

She sighed. ‘Clark, none of this is your fault…’ 

‘You don’t know what happened in there,’ he cut her off, briefly coughing again at the harshness of his words. 

She waited for his throat to settle back down, before taking his hand in hers. 

‘I know the doctor’s said you had some kind of modified truth serum in your system?’ 

Whatever he was holding on to, she’d obviously guessed that part right.

A torrent of shame flashed behind his eyes at the mention of the experimental drug. Lois’ heart wrenched in her chest, and she was once again assaulted with multiple imagined scenarios of all the ways Anderson must have taunted him, toyed with him, before robbing him of something no one ever had before. 

His choice. His self control. 

His free will.

‘I told him everything…’ Clark said, meeting her gaze with desperate apology. ‘I told him about the boys, I told him my name… I'm the reason he went after them.’

‘You were drugged. It wasn’t your choice…’ she tried to reason with him. 

‘That’s not the point! They needed me to fight, to be strong. And I wasn't strong enough…’ 

An unexpected wave of frustration hit Lois so forcefully she couldn’t prevent herself from bubbling over. 

‘Dammit, Clark, I just talked my dad down from a self-blame pity party… now I’ve got to do you too?’

His eyes widened in shock, and she immediately regretted it. The last thing she wanted to do was lose her temper with him right now... 

‘Look, I can't imagine how horrible it must have been. But you can't keep thinking like this. You have to stop holding yourself to a higher standard than everyone else. I mean, if I'd been drugged with a truth serum, would you blame me for confessing our family's secret?’

‘Of course not… I…’ 

‘Then why should you be any different?’ 

He didn’t respond, looking down at his hands in his lap for a long moment. She wondered if she’d been too harsh, pushed too hard… until he finally broke the silence. 

‘I’m just not used to being that powerless.’

‘Yeah,’ she breathed in relief. ‘It really sucks. But everyone has their limits Clark. Anderson exploited yours.’ 

Lois noticed the tension in his jaw at the sound of his captor’s name and immediately regretted saying it out loud. 

‘That bizzarro version of me… he’s dead isn’t he?’ he asked, looking up at her with knowing anticipation.

She simply nodded, and he let his chin fall. 

‘He died trying to help us,’ Lois explained. ‘Lara freed him. He could have just flown away, but he fought Anderson. Kept him from hurting the boys.’ 

‘And now we’ll never know what he was doing here…’

She placed her hand in his and squeezed it tightly. 

‘We’ll figure this out, Clark. Ally, Lucy, the other world… whatever's coming, we'll stop it. Together, like we always do.’

He smiled up at her gratefully, stroking her hand with his. She leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered as they parted. ‘For saving my life.’

Lois smiled back at him, reassured to see that ever present flame of hope behind his eyes was still burning. It didn't matter what Anderson had done to him... as long as that was there, she knew she hadn't lost him. 

‘Always,’ she promised.

Chapter Text

Jon chewed on the sleeve of his hoodie, glancing up at the clock above his brother’s head for the millionth time. His mom had disappeared into his dad’s hospital room about ten minutes ago, and every second since then had been dragging like crazy. 

His dad was awake. 

The doctor said he was okay. 

Jon knew he should be feeling relieved; but part of him just couldn’t relax, couldn’t let himself believe it was all over until he’d seen it with his own eyes. 

The nightmares of the last few days flooded through his mind as he waited in the DOD hospital hallway, playing through all the worst moments like a horrific compilation reel. The menacing look in Anderson’s eyes as he’d taunted them. The snarl in his voice as he’d threatened them… before finally shooting Jordan in the chest. The sight of blood oozing from his brother’s hoodie. The terror he’d felt as John Henry had flown his twin away, not knowing if he’d ever see him again. 

But the image that seemed to linger the most? 

The expression on the face of his dad’s doppleganger when Jon had rolled over his lifeless body. 

The glassy emptiness in the man’s eyes - eyes that were so similar to his dad’s, and yet such a twisted reflection at the same time… he couldn’t shake the haunting image, and the questions that it seemed to stir up within him. 

‘You okay?’ his brother asked.

Jordan peered over at him in concern, still slouched in the uncomfortable hospital chair, hood up like it usually was when he was feeling anxious. 

Was he okay? Jon didn’t even know how to answer that. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, the adrenaline of the evening’s events still not fully settled down. His whole body felt wired, despite the clawing exhaustion that clutched at the edges of his awareness… but he hadn’t just been shot. He wasn’t the one who’d… 

All he could manage was a simple shake of his head.

His brother stood up, crossing the small hallway and slumping down into the seat next to him. He pulled his hood down, brushing his hair back from his face.   

‘Wanna talk about it?’ he asked tentatively.

Jon looked up and down the hallway nervously. Neither his mom nor his grandpa had questioned whether or not they should be there, despite the obvious risk of Lois Lane’s children being seen waiting outside of Superman’s hospital room. There seemed to have been a silent acknowledgement that forcing them to leave now would be worse than facing a few raised eyebrows of curiosity. 

Still, he wasn’t sure how much was safe to say in the hallway of the DOD facility. Especially now, after everything that had happened at the hands of a man who’d supposedly been a trustworthy figure within its ranks. 

He looked up at his brother, a lump forming in his throat, adding another challenge to his attempt to speak.

‘I thought you were dead, Jordan,’ he managed to croak out. 

He felt the words causing him to well up, but he forced them away with a few forceful blinks. 

His brother let out a long breath beside him. 

‘Yeah, that was... I mean, it’s such a blur, it feels kinda insane to even think about.’

Jordan’s hand drifted up to his shoulder, pressing against the spot where Anderson’s bullets had landed, like he was checking a phantom wound. 

‘Does it hurt?’ Jon asked.

Jordan shook his head. ‘Mr Irons said it’s completely healed. No trace of the green stuff.’ 

Jon felt a brief wave of gratitude for that, before the sound of his dad’s hospital room door opening sent a jolt of anxiety right through him. His head shot up, attention beaming towards it, just as a doctor appeared. He could feel his brother tensing beside him. 

She was holding a clipboard and still scribbling down some notes as she stepped into the hallway, until finally she looked up, catching their wide eyes. She pulled on a reassuring smile before she continued on her way. 

All the staff members had been doing that, ever since they got there. No one saying a word, everyone looking at them with a weird mix of sympathy and curiosity on their faces. Did they know? Were they silently making up theories? Was the fear both he and his brother were incapable of hiding going to give away their dad’s secret? 

Jon tried to push those thoughts aside, knowing there was nothing he could do about it anyway. He returned his attention to his brother, who was already looking over at him expectantly again, as though giving a silent invitation to continue opening up. 

‘I just… I can’t stop thinking about dad’s doppleganger…’ Jon began tentatively.

‘Seriously?’ his brother shot back impulsively, before catching his brother’s warning look. ‘I mean, of course it sucks that he died like that, but… he wasn’t a good guy, Jon. He murdered people.’

‘I know…’ Jon said, glancing down at his hands in his lap. 

The sleeves looked completely gnarly at this point. He hadn’t even realised how hard he’d been going at them. 

‘You couldn’t have done anything to save him,’ his brother continued.

‘Yeah, I know that too… it’s not about that…’ 

‘Then what…?’ 

Jon peered over at his brother, unsure how to put his confused feelings into words. 

‘He just… he looked so much like Dad…’

‘But he’s not Dad...’ his brother cut in again, way too fast. 

‘I know that, Jordan!’ Jon sighed, raising his voice in exasperation. ‘Would you please just let me finish?’

‘Sorry,’ his brother mumbled, and Jon felt a twinge of guilt for losing his temper.

He glanced down the hallway, making sure they hadn’t attracted any attention.

‘Look, I know he’s not our Dad, but… we don’t know what he was like before, do we? I mean, the messed up skin, the ticks, the aggression… was all of that because he was inhaling kryptonite? What if he was just… normal before? More like Dad?’ 

Jordan shook his head. ‘I don’t think it’s that simple...’ 

‘Maybe not…’ Jon conceded. ‘But you heard what the doctor said about Anderson. He’s completely messed up from inhaling X-K too.’

Jon could see his brother starting to put together some of the pieces of his uncomfortable train of thought.’

‘Okay but… that doesn’t mean X-K made them into monsters. We don’t know how much of what they did was because of the X-K and how much was just… in them already,’ Jordan pointed out carefully. 

‘Maybe that’s the point…’ Jon trailed off. 

He’d been thinking about it ever since he’d been caught with that bag of X-K inhalers. Part of him wanted to pretend he hadn’t known the risks, that he’d taken X-K because he’d thought it was safe. But he knew that would be a lie. 

From the moment he’d decided to take that first puff, there had been a voice in the back of his head warning him of the dangers. Even later on, when he’d felt his moods changing, realised he was losing his temper at Jordan, acting completely out of character… he’d still kept going. 

All because of a football game?

Except it wasn’t just about a football game, was it? There had been something sinister driving his choices from the start. All the stuff that had happened since their grandma died, all the changes he’d been struggling with, the confusing feelings he’d been trying to squash down and just pretend he could handle on his own… it had been slowly building up, forming into a giant ball of resentment.

He’d just been so angry. Angry at the world. Angry at his brother, at his parents. He didn’t want to be angry. The thought that he was ragingly jealous of his brother was just… embarrassing. But he couldn’t deny it. The shift in their family dynamic ever since his brother’s powers kicked in had been eating him alive, and he’d been too proud to admit it. 

Instead he’d let it drive him to do something completely reckless and selfish. 

What did that mean about the kind of person he was? What he was capable of…

‘Jon, you are nothing like either of them,’ Jordan said gently. ‘You weren’t taking X-K to hurt people. You were just trying to keep up with Timmy…’

Jon shook his head. ‘It’s more than that though.’

His mouth felt suddenly dry. Jordan said nothing, seeming to sense his need for space, and he sighed gratefully.  

‘I think I was just… sick of feeling powerless,’ he admitted for the first time. ‘I wanted to feel in control again.’ 

Jon pretending he was doing another sweep of the hallway just to get a few seconds break before facing his brother’s response. He was supposed to be the strong one. Even now that Jordan could bench press a tractor, he was the one who was supposed to keep his head on straight, the one who was always strong on the inside. 

That’s how it had been between them for as long as he could remember, and he knew his brother relied on him for that. Was he letting his brother down by even just talking to him about this stuff? And yet… it was keeping it all bottled up that had gotten him in this mess to begin with, wasn’t it? 

‘I’m sorry, I know it’s been really weird,’ Jordan said finally, lowering his voice as he added, ‘you, know… since I got powers .’

Jon looked back at him in surprise. He hadn't been expecting Jordan to be the one apologising to him. 

‘None of this is your fault.’

‘Okay, but… it’s been a lot. I mean, I've felt completely out of control too…’

‘You’ve had dad to help you though…’ Jon said without thinking, wincing at the hint of self pity he could hear in his own voice.

Even now, after everything… was part of him still salty about that?

‘I mean, so do you. You know that, right? And mom… You just have to let them in.’

Yeah. That was the hard part. 

Jon sighed. ‘I dunno man, the stuff you’re dealing with just always seems bigger…’

‘Maybe it’s not though. I think maybe I'm just… louder about it.’ 

An unexpected smile tugged at the corner of Jon’s mouth. 

‘That’s true,’ he teased. 

Jordan responded with a light smack to his arm. 

‘Hey, I'm just saying, it’s bound to have been hard for you too,’ he added. ‘And mom and dad want you to talk to them about this stuff.’

‘Do you think I'd have ended up… like him?’ 

Jordan shook his head. ‘No way.’

‘I yelled at you Jordan.’

‘What’s new?’ his brother shot back.

‘I shoved you into that locker,’ Jon pointed out.

‘Okay yeah, that was kinda rough…’

Jon looked down again, shame doing a back flip in his stomach. 

‘I think I could feel it Jordan.  Changing me…’ he said 

His brother placed his arm firmly on his shoulder. ‘That still doesn’t mean you’re anything like Anderson or that bizarro thing. You’d never actually hurt anyone.’ 

Jon shrugged. ‘Maybe… I just can’t believe I even came close to going down a similar path to them.’

‘Do you think it might be good to talk to someone. You know, when this is all over.’

Jon shot his brother a look. ‘Like a therapist?’

‘What? Like I'm the only one of us that would ever need therapy? It’s not a bad thing Jon, it’s kinda nice to have someone to talk to about how you really feel.’ 

‘Maybe,’ Jon conceded, brushing a hand through his hair. ‘Man, dad is going to hate me when he finds out what I did.’ 

‘He’s not going to hate you…’

‘Seriously Jordan, after all of this, you think he’s gonna be psyched to hear I was using that stuff too?’

‘No, of course not, but…’

Their debate was cut off by another sudden movement by their dad’s door. 

They fell silent, peering intently in it’s direction, waiting to see who was coming out this time. As soon as they saw their mom, they were on their feet in seconds. They stopped inches from her, gazing at expectantly. 

Jon tried to read her expression, but he couldn’t work it out. Was it okay to get hopeful or did he still needed to steel himself for something that was going to be hard to hear?

‘Is he okay?’ Jon asked.

‘Can we see him?’ Jordan asked at the same time.

They looked at each other, then back at their mom.

She smiled. ‘He’s fine . And yes, you can see him. Come in.’ 

She gestured towards the door and started heading inside, stopping to hold it open for them. Jordan didn’t hesitate, dashing past him and straight into his dad’s room. 

Jon found himself frozen to the spot for a moment, a cocktail of emotions creating a block between his thoughts and his ability to move. 

His mom cocked her head in concern. ‘Hey, what’s wrong sweetie?’

Jon bit his lip, feeling tears brimming in his eyes again and berating himself in frustration. What was the matter with him? His dad was okay, he was right through that door and he wanted - no needed - to see him. What was he so afraid of? 

He shook his head like he was trying to reset his brain. 

‘It’s nothing,’ he said quietly.

Jon took a few steps forwards, crossing the threshold into the hospital room, and his mom gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze as he passed.

As he allowed himself to fall into his dad’s warm embrace beside his brother, pushing aside the inevitably difficult conversations he knew were yet to come, he made himself a silent promise. 

He wasn’t going to say that anymore. He wasn’t going to pretend his feelings were nothing. 

From now on, he was going to figure out how to be honest about this stuff. 

—

EPILOGUE - 3 MONTHS LATER

*       *       *

Clark stood outside the small cell where he’d been through so much pain. 

The red solar lamps had already been dismantled and destroyed, but he’d asked Sam to hold fire on clearing the space out completely. He couldn't explain why exactly… but he knew he needed to come back here. 

Lois had offered to come with him… but he’d insisted she stay at home. He needed some closure, a way of processing everything that had happened, and he knew this was something he needed to do alone. 

It wasn't going to be easy though. Standing there, staring at his prison, he knew it wasn’t as simple as just having a moment's reflection. 

His whole body was responding to the site of his endless nightmares. 

Clark could already hear the faint whispers of Anderson’s taunting words, echoing in the silence. He could feel the hoarse sensation in the back of his throat, his screams of agony leaving him raw and spent. His muscles filled with tension, and he raised his hand to confirm the slight tremble he could feel coursing through him. 

He closed his eyes, but instead of trying to push the experiences away, he let the images that accompanied them enter, let each memory become whole. 

This was what he'd expected. He was prepared for this. 

Clark could feel his heart rate increasing, so he focused on the sensation of the ground beneath his feet, just like his therapist had taught him. He brought his attention back to the feeling of breath against his skin, slowly inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. 

He'd been resistant to the idea of seeing a professional at first, until Lois had filled him in on Jon’s X-K use. He’d sat down with his son that night, and had a real conversation about the emotions the teenager had been bottling up for over a year. After Clark had reassured him he was there for him, that it was okay to ask for help… he’d realised how much of a hypocrite he’d be if he didn’t do the same. 

At first, even thinking about what had happened during his incarceration had sent him into waves of panic, but after a lot of work these last few months, he’d gotten to a place where he could safely let those memories in. He could keep himself grounded as he waded through them, without letting them pull him away from the present. 

He could handle this. He didn't need to run away from it anymore. 

Besides, he wasn't finished yet.

There was something his therapist had suggested in their last session, when he’d explained his need to return. A way of taking back control in the space where he’d been made to feel so powerless. 

Eyes still closed, he took a deep breath and prepared to speak, trying to shrug off the sudden self consciousness.

‘You didn't break me,’ he said firmly .

The four carefully chosen words felt strangely powerful. He struggled to identify why for a second, and then the realisation hit him - this was the first time in a long time they’d felt true . 

He spoke them again, repeating them partly to himself, and partly to the ghost of Anderson that had taken root in his mind. 

Something shifted inside of him. 

He felt a strange sensation - like being released from some kind of invisible shackles. A wave of relief flooded through him and he opened his eyes, blinking away hot tears. 

He knew he could never erase everything that had happened, that he would carry it with him for a long time to come… but in that moment, he felt more free than he had done in months. 

It was over.

He wasn’t a prisoner anymore. 

Anderson was gone. 

Sure, his captor was technically still breathing, but the man would never be able to hurt him or his family ever again. Even the General’s loyal soldiers were behind bars too, along with the doctor who’d injected him with truth serum. Though he'd asked for leniency for the man, who’d so obviously been acting out of fear.

The truth was, he'd struggled not to blame himself. Apparently, that was one of his bigger problems though… his therapist even joked that it was going to take more work than the trauma. 

He’d managed to move through the guilt of everything he'd shared while under the influence of the truth serum, but as much as he tried to let it go, he couldn’t seem to shake his sense of regret about being taken prisoner in the first place. 

He’d let his guard down around the DOD over the years, allowed himself to feel safe… but the agency had always been full of people who saw him as a threat. And like it or not, they had access to information about him no one else did. They knew all the ways they could exploit his vulnerability.

He never should have walked into Anderson’s trap. Never should have let himself be so blind-sided. 

It had almost cost him the lives of everyone he loved. 

Even with Sam stepping back into his old position, reinstating the security protocols around kryptonite weapons… he vowed to be more careful from here on. To make sure something like this could never happen again.

Clark’s head picked up at the sound of soft footsteps entering the dimly lit floor, and he felt an unexpectedly powerful surge of anxiety grip his chest again. The effect of the simple sound took him by surprise, though it made sense - it had been the precursor to every attack, every torture Anderson had dreampt up for him. 

The panic’s hold on him released as soon as he recognised the young woman’s face.

‘Sullivan,’ he sighed, forcing a smile onto his face.

The woman nodded, looking sheepish. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ 

‘It’s okay. I just thought I was alone.’ 

Clark willed his heart rate to settle back down. 

‘You didn’t hear me coming?’ 

‘Guess I was… distracted,’ Clark said, gaze quietly returning to his prison.

Sullivan nodded, taking another step closer in silence, and standing beside him facing the cell.

‘I heard this place was being taken apart tomorrow… I felt like I just needed to see it one last time…’  

Clark smiled briefly. ‘Yeah. I had a similar idea.’

‘Did you want me to go? I don't wanna interrupt if you need some time alone…’ Sullivan said in a rush.

‘No, please, stay,’ Clark insisted. ‘It's good to see you.’

He meant it too. Her presence felt really welcome in his process of closure. 

‘So… it’s Clark… right?’

Clark simply nodded. He’d worn his Superman suit to the facility, but the question didn't exactly come as a surprise. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to deny it if she asked. Not after everything she’d risked to save his life. 

‘My name’s Georgia,’ she said, reaching out a hand for him to shake. 

He shook it firmly, noting the last hints of fading bruises around her neck, where Anderson had held her by the throat. 

‘How’s your recovery going?’ he asked. ‘I stopped by the hospital after… but the doctors said you weren’t well enough for visitors.’

Sullivan shrugged, rubbing her neck self consciously. ‘Yeah, I was pretty messed up for a while there. But the docs gave me a clean bill of health last week. Thanks for the flowers by the way.’  

‘I’m sorry,’ Clark said, voice heavy with regret. ‘Things should never have gotten that far.’ 

There it was again. That guilt his therapist would have confronted him about. 

‘Hey, you should see the other guy,’ she half joked, but there was a hint of vitriol to it. ‘Besides, I wouldn't be here at all if you hadn’t barrelled into him. You have nothing to be sorry about.’ 

‘Okay,’ he accepted somewhat reluctantly. ‘Well how about a thank you, then? For saving my life.’ 

Sullivan shrugged again, her cheeks slightly reddening. ‘Sure, I can take that. But honestly, I just did what anyone with half a conscience would have done.’ 

‘Not everyone has the courage to do what you did,’ Clark insisted.

‘Thanks,’ she said quietly. ‘That means a lot coming from you.’ 

They stood together in the darkness for a moment, just taking in the presence of the now empty cell, before she broke the silence again.  

‘I won't tell anyone, you know,’ she said quickly. ‘In case you were worried…’

‘I know,’ Clark said, smiling warmly at her. 

The idea of her exposing his identity hadn't even crossed his mind. It was never easy where his secret identity was involved, but he knew her could trust her to keep his families secret safe. 

‘That’s very trusting of you. You don't even really know me.’

‘I know enough,’ Clark insisted. 

Georgia smiled, her eyes lighting up for a second, before she cleared her throat. ‘Well… good. Just wanted to make sure you knew.’

‘So, what's next for you?’ Clark asked.

‘Oh, uh, guess I'm still figuring that out,’ she replied, rubbing her arm. ‘My fiance wants me to separate from the military completely, but I don't know…’ 

‘It's not easy, knowing someone you love is risking their lives on a daily basis,’ Clark offered. 

Georgia cocked her head at him curiously, before realization dawned on her. 

‘Oh right, of course, you're married to Lois Lane,’ she said with a soft laugh, and he couldn't help but grin at her immediate recognition. ‘You get it though. There's some things you can’t just switch off, no matter what happens to you.’ 

Clark nodded. ‘Well, whatever you decide, if you ever need anything…’ 

‘Hey, same to you, big guy!’ she said awkwardly. 

‘I mean it,’ he said firmly. ‘I almost lost myself in there. I owe you my life.’ 

He held her gaze, trying to communicate the weight of his words. It wasn't even just the escape plan… her presence in his unfolding nightmare had been a sliver of light to hold on to in the dark.

‘Just keep up the hero stuff,’ she said sincerely. ‘Pay it forwards.’ 

Clark's assessment of her character cemented even further in his mind. She was a perfect example of why humanity was worth fighting for. 

‘Deal,’ Clark said, extending a hand to shake hers again. 

She looked at it awkwardly for a moment, before launching herself forwards and surprising him with a hug. Clark leaned into it, squeezing back tightly, in a way he hoped expressed at least some of his gratitude. 

He could see tears in her eyes as they finally parted. 

‘Sorry,’ she said, wiping at them in frustration. ‘I don’t know why i’m getting all mushy. I think i’m just… really glad it’s all over.’ 

Clark sighed. ‘Yeah, me too.’ 

‘What do you say, you wanna get the hell out of here?’ she asked. 

Clark gave the cell one last look, feeling weirdly uncertain. As strange as it was to admit, there was something reassuring about standing there in front of it, despite the fear it produced. Like some part of him had needed to know it was real. That it wasn't just a hallucination or some crazy nightmare he hadn't yet woken up from. 

Once he walked away, that was it. Tomorrow it was due to be dismantled completely. No proof of it’s existence left behind beyond the scars in his own mind. 

He’d come for closure… but suddenly he felt nervous about the part that came next. The part where he had to really move on, where things would get back to normal. 

‘You still need a minute?’ Georgia asked. 

Her empathetic voice cut through the fear and doubt, giving him the courage he needed to leave the place behind.

‘No. I’m ready,’ he said finally. 

She smiled, before making her way towards the door, glancing back to see if he was coming. Clark followed behind her, letting her lead the way out of the darkness. 

Again.