Chapter Text
“Jonathan, pay attention.”
Jon snapped his head up from his phone and met his dad’s firm gaze. “I was listening,” he defended. “Jordan’s gotta aim for the middle, follow through… You know, I already know how to throw a punch, right? Grandpa taught me.”
His dad crossed his arms in front of himself. “It’s different when you have superstrength.”
“Okay, but I don’t have—”
“Yet. We know that it’s only going to be a matter of time before you have all my powers, and you might as well be learning from Jordan’s practicing until they kick in.”
Jonathan groaned loudly. “You know, I was supposed to be meeting up with some of the guys on the team right now? Why can’t I just take whatever little time I have left being mostly normal and enjoy it?”
“Jonathan.”
The frown on his dad’s face wasn’t enough to deter Jon, but the look of discomfort on Jordan made him pause. Sure, Jordan was coming up to almost a year with superpowers, Jon knew that his brother still felt at odds with things at times. His own bad attitude wasn’t helping.
“Sorry,” Jon muttered.
Clark looked at him thoughtfully and then sighed. “Jordan, can I talk to your brother for a minute?”
“Gladly,” Jordan agreed, skirting out of the cellar quickly.
Jonathan let himself follow the sound of his brother’s heartbeat as it left the barn. Steady and strong, it carried across the yard and towards the house—
The screeching of the screen door made Jon wince and he reached up to rub his ears in annoyance. Figured that the only power he had right now was also the lamest.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” Jonathan insisted shortly, refocusing on the cellar and on his dad’s voice. “I’m just… well, you know what it’s like, I guess.”
“You’ve come a long way in two weeks,” Clark offered.
Jon shrugged. Yeah, it was better than the overwhelming pain of when it had first happened, but things were still way touchier than he’d like, and he still hadn’t been able to go back to listening to music as loud as he used to or anything like that.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” Clark asked, leaning against the log and gesturing for Jon to join him.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Jon insisted, hunching his shoulders up.
“Really? Could have fooled me.”
There was a beat of silence as Jon watched his infuriatingly patient dad sit there, seeming perfectly content to wait it out. Admitting defeat, Jon slouched against the log beside his dad.
“I don’t really know,” he admitted. “I guess I’m still feeling… weird… about the whole powers thing. I mean, the future Jordan told me that I’m gonna have everything, but I really don’t right now, and just… where does that put me?”
Clark put a hand on his shoulder. “It puts you with me. And your brother.”
“Well, maybe eventually, but it doesn’t really feel like it,” Jonathan admitted. “The only power I have so far is the ability to give myself a super-migraine. But I know I’m not really the same as the guys on the team anymore, either. I, uh, I haven’t told anyone that I’m not playing football this year,” he admitted reluctantly. “I just know how to…”
Even if he found a way to gracefully back off the team, he was sure that whatever tenuous friendships he’d made would dry up as soon as they didn’t have that activity in common.
Clark was nodding guiltily. “Jonathan, if you really wanted, we could find a way to—”
“I can’t go back on the team,” Jon cut in. “I know I can’t do anything besides the superhearing right now, but the thought of something coming on all of a sudden when I’m on the field…” He shuddered. “Anyway. Better to just make a clean break of it before the season even starts.”
“Okay,” Clark agreed supportively. “You’re still going to have to tell Coach Gaines soon. There’s summer training coming up.”
“I know,” Jon nodded stiffly. “I’m just trying to gear up for it, I guess.”
Clark gripped his shoulder tightly, and Jon leaned into it gratefully. He still may not know what the hell was happening in his life, but at least he had his parents to help him through it.
Then, he saw the telltale signs of some distant sound catching his dad’s attention. Jon had no idea what it was, though. He had gotten pretty good at handling whatever was in the room, but the great world beyond was still very much a mystery to him.
“What it is?” he asked, not even wanting to try right now.
“It’s… coming from the fortress,” Clark replied, brow furrowed in concern. “I can hear a—” Then he stood abruptly, and Jon knew that he was going to leave. “Get to your brother,” Clark commanded seriously.
“Dad, what is it?”
Clark shook his head. “I’m not exactly sure yet, but I want you two to stick together just in case. I’ll be back.”
Then, in a gust of air, he was gone.
If it hadn’t been for the events of just a couple weeks ago, Clark might not have believed what he heard coming from the fortress. As it was, he still approached the darkened cave with caution, scanning the space before he landed inside the largest chamber.
There were two heartbeats in the room. One he recognized instantly as his son’s even though it sounded a little slower and stronger than usual. The other one was small and light, and Clark was about to investigate when he was interrupted.
“Hey, Dad.”
Although he had been preparing himself for it, Clark sucked in a gasp icy air as his eyes took in the sight of a thirty-something year-old Jonathan standing in the fortress. He wore a dark blue jacket over a grey t-shirt, and even though that obviously wasn’t enough to protect against the arctic air, he didn’t show any hint of feeling the cold.
“Jonathan! You’re—"
“Yeah, I’m back,” he shrugged with a lopsided smile. “It’s, uh, been a couple weeks for you guys, right?”
“Yeah,” Clark nodded breathlessly. He hadn’t imagined being able to see this version of his son again until years down the road, and it was all a little much to take in. Why was he here? It didn’t seem like an accident, but they all knew that casual visits from the future were out of the question.
“It’s been about three years for me,” Jonathan offered.
It made Clark’s head spin to think about that, and Jonathan shrugged wryly.
“Yeah, I know it’s weird,” he acknowledged. “And, obviously, I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t serious.” He turned towards one of the walls of the chamber, and Clark scanned his eyes over the collection of luggage that was stacked there. That’s where the other heartbeat was coming from, and he watched expectantly as Jonathan crossed the small space and reached out his hand towards what looked like a messy pile of blankets.
Clark’s breath caught when he noticed the mop of curly blonde hair that stuck out from one end. Jonathan ran his hand over the resting head and Clark heard a gentle hum of contentment come from inside the cozy nest.
“This is my daughter, Chelsea,” Jon said quietly, eyes looking down with care. “And we need your help.”