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Jordan loved his brother but he could really care less about football. He only came to games for moral support and because his parents had always dragged him along. He spent most of the time on his phone but looked up every once in a while to check the score or make sure Jonathan wasn’t getting himself killed. Smallville was losing by a lot at this particular game so at some point in the third quarter, his parents started talking about what they were doing for dinner
When Jordan was growing up, he had always seen Superman as this otherworldly celebrity. He never thought about what his life looked like when he wasn’t saving the day. Three months into knowing the family secret and it was still bizarre to think about the Man of Steel at a high school football game discussing with his wife whether they were going to pick up Thai food or Mexican food. He actually avoided thinking about it and turned his attention toward the game. Something was off, though, with Jon. Jordan had already developed super-sight and while he had used it to cheat on a math test or two (a fact he was taking to the grave), he didn’t need it to see his brother was incredibly disoriented. Like bumping into players, spaghetti-legs disoriented. He knew Jon was having…performance issues…when they had first moved, but he didn’t think it was this bad. Jordan tapped on his dad’s shoulder.
“Dad,” he said, “Dad, I think something’s wrong.”
“What?” Clark asked, turning toward his son. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, no, not me,” Jordan informed him. “Look.”
Jordan pointed his chin toward the field. Clark turned back toward the game. He did use his super-sight to get a better look at Jon who was on the far side of the field and seemingly on the verge of a panic attack.
“Shit,” Clark said, standing up.
He seemed to know what was going on.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” Lois asked.
“Jon needs my help,” Clark said before making his way to the edge of the bleachers and down the stairs.
Jordan and Lois watched intently as Clark made his way to the sidelines. He quickly found his way to Coach Gaines.
“Coach,” Clark said, “why aren’t you getting Jonathan off the field?”
“Kent, Cyclones are crushing us anyway,” Coach responded. “I’ll get him out before the fourth if he’s not recovered by then.”
“No, you need to get him out now,” Clark said. “Call a time-out. Please.”
Clark stared at the coach with all the worry of a concerned parent and all the intensity of Superman. The coach wasn’t sure what was going on but he obeyed Clark’s wishes. He signaled to the referee who blew his whistle.
“Heyo, Kent!” Coach yelled at Jonathan.
Jon was crouched down at the far end of the 30 yard line, panting like a dog and sweating a pig. He looked up at the coach…or more specifically, where Coach’s voice was coming from. He couldn’t really see him. He couldn’t see anything. Except outlines of bodies…and skeletons…everything in black and white. He felt like he had fallen headfirst into a different dimension because the world he was processing around him wasn’t the world he was used to. He was terrified.
“Jon!” he heard his dad yell from right next to the coach.
Knowing that his father might be the only person who could help him, Jonathan mustered all the strength and focus he could and ran across the field to Clark. When he finally made it the coaching box, he grabbed onto his dad to attempt to regain his balance.
“Hey, you good?” Clark asked his son.
“No,” Jon said bluntly, looking up at his dad.
“Okay, come on,” Clark said, grabbing Jonathan’s shoulders. “Close your eyes.”
Jonathan obeyed and trusted his dad
“Thank you,” Clark told Coach before ushering his son off the sidelines.
Coach nodded back at Clark.
“Greenberg, you’re in,” Coach told the young man standing next to him.
Clark and Jonathan had just made it to the parking lot before Jon lost all sense of balance. Closing his eyes made the world a little darker but he could still see right through his eyelids. He’d never experienced vertigo but he imagined it must’ve felt a lot like this. The sudden disorientation was beyond jarring. Next thing Jon knew, he was on the floor feeling incredibly nauseous.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Clark said, kneeling next to his son. “You’re okay. You’re okay. What do you see?”
Jon looked at the cars surrounding him. At least they were stable and not moving like everything else.
“Engines,” Jon started listing, “axles, transmissions, mufflers, fuel tanks—”
“Okay, Jon, you need to breathe, alright,” Clark instructed him. “This is x-ray vision. You can control it—its intensity, when you use it…but it’s not gonna disappear unless you calm down.”
Jonathan tried his best to focus on breathing. In…hold…out…hold…in…hold…out… Slowly but surely, color seeped back into his world. Objects started to solidify. He looked at his father and saw a face, not a skull. Relieved, he dropped his head into his hands and tried to rub out the searing headache the episode had left him with. Suddenly, his mom and brother were at his side, as well. Lois knelt down to her son.
“Sweetheart,” she said, putting one hand on his back and the other on his knee, “are you okay?”
Jon just barely nodded his head. He then slowly lowered his hands.
“Thanks for getting me out of there,” he told his dad.
“What happened?” Jordan asked.
Clark looked up at his other son.
“Looks like you’re not the only one with powers,” he said
Jonathan’s heart was pounding out of his chest. Whether he didn’t think this day would come or just denied that it ever would, it had happened. His worst nightmare for the past three months. Jordan had seemed to be taking all the developments he was going through in stride and was even excited by it…but Jon just wanted to focus on football and getting acquainted at a new school and making a long-distance relationship work. He didn’t have the time or the patience or the mental bandwidth to deal with this Kryptonian bullshit. He was happy to support Jordan but, ever since they found out about their dad, he wanted to stay as human as possible. Some things are too good to be true, he thought.
He looked up at his brother. Jordan was already staring at him. But not with pity or jealousy or any sense of horror. Just with love. And compassion. And every ounce of empathy he had. Jonathan was there for him, helping him through this from day one. Jordan was going to be there for him, too. And they didn’t need to say anything to each other to understand what the other was thinking. Jordan just nodded at him. And Jonathan nodded back.