Chapter Text
Jordan rummaged through the ridiculously messy back seat of his brother’s truck, amazed at how easily he was able to lose things, even now. Getting super powers had changed a lot, but apparently it didn’t prevent his possessions having legs of their own.
“What's the hold up, Jordan?” Mom asked. “It looks like there's only a few trees left!”
“Just a second!” Jordan called back.
At the impatience in her tone, he stopped searching the human way, and kicked his X-Ray vision into gear. After a quick scan of the vehicle’s interior, he'd spotted what he was looking for, stuffed down between the right side passenger seat and the door. He reached into the gap, feeling for the soft fabric, then yanked it free from its hiding place.
“I got it!” Jordan exclaimed, spinning around to face his family.
He held up the winter beanie, giving it a wiggle in the air that got an enthusiastic thumbs up from Dad.
Jon frowned at him. “Why’d you even bring that thing? The whole world knows you don't feel the cold anymore.”
Jordan shrugged, shoving it on his curly locks and trying to ignore the stirrings of self consciousness.
“Maybe I like dressing for the season,” he defended.
“Since when have you cared about fashion?” Jon laughed, flicking the hat's dangling bobble and knocking the whole thing askew.
Jordan yanked it back into place as his brother received one of Mom’s disapproving scowls. He didn't actually care though. The two of them had been through so much together over the last few years, it was a relief when they fell back into their old sibling dynamics. It usually meant they'd gone five seconds without anyone being in life-threatening danger.
As soon as Mom turned away, Jon punched him on the arm, and Jordan gave him a firm shove in return. The familiar dance of The Fraternals.
“I smell chocolate bacon,” Dad declared with delight.
Jordan matched his brother’s immediate eye roll, but it was more out of habit these days. After almost losing Dad last year, the things they’d found embarrassing about him before never quite bothered them the same. Jordan would take all the dorky comments in the world as long as they still had their Dad here with them, alive and well.
Besides, the stuff tasted better than it sounded, especially to a half Kryptonian pallet, as his brother had more recently discovered. So many unexpected things had changed once their powers kicked in. Jordan found his own experience weird enough, but it was even weirder now, watching Jon go through it. The alienness of it all seemed even more obvious from the outside.
Jordan shoved his hands into his coat pocket as his family fell into their usual formation, heading for the line of festive stalls set up along the high street. Mom and Dad walked ahead, Jon and Jordan followed a few paces behind. Mom leaned in close to Dad like she was trying to syphon some of his Kryptonian body heat, and Dad had one arm wrapped around her back, like always.
Jon’s quip about their inability to feel the cold now was true. Jordan watched his breath puff out in smoky clouds, remembering the other sensations that used to come with it. The way it had bitten at the end of his nose, making him nuzzle his face further under a thick scarf. He could still feel the temperature, could sense that it was lower. It just… didn't bother him. He could have been strolling around in a t-shirt and shorts and wouldn’t have felt a single goosebump appear on his skin.
The awareness of that had been strange at first, but he'd gotten used to it.
And now, so had most of Smallville.
After Dad had gone on air and told the world who he really was, it had taken their friends and neighbors some time to adjust. There were plenty of shocked expressions, double takes, and swiftly turned heads when his family did anything out of the ordinary; but they'd discussed it, and decided it would be dishonest to keep pretending they were normal.
One weird thing at a time, everyone in town had become accustomed to their quirks, barely batting an eyelid when one of them arrived somewhere at superspeed. Or, on rarer occasions, carried something heavy like a new sofa out of the furniture store with one hand.
Still… there was no rule saying Jordan couldn't wear a winter beanie, was there?
The feel of it on his head was just… familiar. Comforting. He’d had a teacher back in kindergarten, Mrs Paige, who’d knitted the whole class winter beanies for the holidays each year, and he’d associated them with her loving presence ever since. The hat brought to mind memories of all sorts of winter outings, mostly with the four of them walking around, a mug of hot cocoa each cradled in gloved hands, steam and breath mingling as they shivered against the cold. It was all kind of nostalgic, even if he wasn't going to be shivering without it. Just part of the vibe of the holiday season.
Jordan wanted to enjoy that more than ever this year. To just have a nice, normal holiday, separate from all the chaos of being a member of the super family.
It had been hard enough to escape the craziness of their lives when their Dad’s secret was still back in its box, but now that they had to deal with being famous too, it was almost impossible. Their lives were so full of pressure now. They were rarely able to escape the scrutiny of being in the spotlight, and the constant dialogue about them was pretty unforgiving. There were some cool parts to it, for sure, but Jordan had spent way too many nights getting lost in the weeds of social media, feeling the sting of every word of ridicule, every scolding criticism.
It didn’t seem to bother Jon as much, but then that was nothing new. Other than his blip with X-K he hadn’t made as many mistakes as Jordan had. His brother seemed to have taken to super-heroing as easily as he’d taken to football when they were kids. Jordan on the other hand was still figuring things out, still freezing up sometimes, making the wrong decisions in the heat of the moment. It left him questioning his place in it all, even though he knew he couldn’t just run away from the responsibility.
He wanted to help. He just wasn’t always sure he was helping.
The stress of battling with that pervasive self doubt made him treasure these quiet, ‘normal’ moments with his family even more. Jordan would take whatever time they could carve out in between finishing school and training to save the world—the brief windows they got to just be themselves, without the super expectations.
And, truthfully, he’d always loved Christmas.
The cosy clothes, the lights, the colors. Sure, there had been a phase in his early teens where the whole thing had started to feel super cheesy and uncool. Dad's unapologetic enthusiasm hadn't helped. Every year he managed to find new ways to embarrass them. This year, for example, he’d taken to singing along to Christmas songs, out loud, while running errands in public. Oh, and he was still trying to get them excited about Grandma Kent’s handmade advent calendars, despite the lack of chocolate.
But the older Jordan got, the more he realized that maybe Dad had it right all along. Maybe the whole point was to lean into the silliness.
Speaking of Christmas songs, the familiar chorus of ‘Last Christmas’ had started drifting towards them, and his brother groaned beside him. Jordan hid a grin. He knew his brother hated that one with a vengeance, and he could already hear Dad muttering along with the words under his breath, head bobbing. He'd probably be singing it all the way home in the truck.
The music seemed to be coming from a small radio on the table their neighbor, Bill Crane, had set up next to this season's crop of freshly-grown fir trees. Right where they were heading.
And damn, it looked like Mom was right.
There were only a half dozen sad-looking trees left. All four of them paused in front of the sparse selection, looking at each other dubiously.
“Well, if it isn’t the reclusive Kents!” Bill called out warmly.
The farmer tipped his tinsel-covered cowboy hat to the customers he’d been talking to, then bounded over to greet them. He pulled one glove off and reached out his hand eagerly, making sure to connect with each of them one by one.
“What can I do for you folks tonight?” he asked. “Surely you ain’t looking to buy one of my trees?”
Dad smiled back at him. “Uh, yeah! We're running a bit late this year but we heard you still had some.”
Bill cocked his head. “I mean of course… I’d be honored and all, but… couldn't you just fly a nice big one home from Metropolis?”
Dad laughed a little self-consciously, and Mom stepped in. “We’d rather support local businesses,” she explained. “I know it’s been a tough year for everyone.”
Bill nodded, a hint of sadness shadowing his warmth. “Ah well, we do the best we can, but with all these droughts and wildfires, we’re lucky we still got a crop at all this year. The way the world’s going, there mightn't be any before too long.”
Mom and Dad gave the man a sympathetic nod each, and Jordan felt that familiar little knot forming in his stomach. It was hard to ignore what was going on with climate change at his age, but he tried not to think about it too much. Wrapping his head around what the world might look like in ten years seemed like more than he could handle right now. Trying to see to the end of the school year was hard enough.
Bill clapped his hands together. “Well, take your time now, and just let me know when you decide which one you're taking home. I’ll get my son, Dan, to wrap it up tight for you.”
The man nodded in the direction of a young man beside the table—who waved back at them in star-struck wonder—and then slid off to greet an attractive young couple with a baby that Jordan didn’t recognize.
“So… what do you think?” Dad asked, gesturing to the small bunch of sad-looking trees.
Mom's nose had wrinkled unconsciously, but she caught herself, pulling on her best gracious smile as she met Dad’s gaze.
“I think they all have… potential,” she said, with barely disguised effort.
“I kind of feel bad for the little ones,” Jordan offered. “Everyone’s always leaving them till last, calling them ugly. It’s sad.”
“Exactly!” Dad’s smile broadened into the doofy one that somehow always made Mom grin from ear to ear.
“Alright you big softies,” she said, patting Dad lightly on the chest with her gloved hand and smiling at Jordan. “Let's adopt one of these sad little trees and give it a home.”
Mom lifted on to her toes to give Dad a kiss. Jordan turned away instinctively, catching his brother doing the same, both looking anywhere but their parents' public display of affection.
It was a good opportunity to appreciate how great the high street looked. Sure, some of the decorations had seen better days—guess they didn’t have the budget to buy new ones—but it was clear a lot of love and effort had gone into making Smallville look appropriately festive. There was even a guy in a basket crane working on a set of large overhead fairylights, struggling to get them attached to a telephone pole at the end of the street.
Most of the shops in town decorated their doors and windows themselves, filling the street with a kaleidoscope of color. It wasn't just Bill out tonight either. There were several stalls set up along the closed-off road. Half the town had turned out to browse what was on offer, and the air was rich with the scent of hot mulled drinks, roasted meats and chestnuts. The high school’s band were setting up outside Vicky May’s, occasional blasts of barely-in-tune trumpets indicating they were getting ready to perform.
Jordan's mouth started to water at the enticing mix of smells. He didn’t get hungry anymore, at least not in the same way, but his taste buds still activated when he got a whiff of something delicious. There were just enough coins in his coat pocket to grab some food, so he turned to his brother to see if he wanted anything, but Jon's attention was already on his phone.
From the flirtatious smile on his face, Jordan guessed he was texting Denise again. He shook his head. His brother couldn’t stay single for more than five minutes! But hey, at least she was better for him than Candice. Jon had kinda shut down after he’d been dumped by her for the second time, but Denise had managed to get through to him where even Jordan had failed. She’d been such an amazing friend to both of them.
Jordan headed over to the hog roast stand and stepped in line behind the couple with the baby. The kid was being cradled by his mom, face bobbing over her shoulder, and his eyes lit up as they fell on Jordan. The unexpectedly joyful reception made Jordan grin from ear to ear, and he gave the little guy a wave as his parents moved over to collect their food.
Just as he was about to place his order, a loud, screeching sound drowned out his words.
He spun around, easily spotting the source of the noise. Half the crowd were already pointing and gasping in its direction. The workman in the basket crane had slammed into the telephone pole so hard that the basket now dangled at an angle. It swung back and forth, creaking ominously. The guy was already losing his footing. Jordan watched, horrified, as the man wobbled over the edge.
Time froze as he fell. Jordan's super speed kicked in, and he was about to move, to speed over there and catch him—when Dad beat him to it. He was already speeding towards the man, without that second of stunned hesitation that so often held Jordan back.
In the time it took him to let out the breath he'd been holding, Dad caught the guy and placed him gently back on solid ground.
There was a brief collective sigh of relief, but it quickly turned back to panicked gasps as the telephone pole itself began to sway. Jordan could hear the slow snapping of wood at its base as it began to lose its stability, and then it too was falling, heading right for the stalls, electrical wires snapping free as it descended.
Jordan was still too slow to react. His brother was already on the move, flying up to catch the pole before it could slam down on top of Bill and his few remaining trees. But Jon's focus was on the huge chunk of wood. He hadn’t spotted the wires still attached to the pole, flailing and crackling as they whistled through the air.
They were heading right for the young couple with the baby, who were standing only a few feet away from Jordan, hot dogs raised half-way to their lips, expressions frozen in terror.
Jordan considered grabbing the family and speeding them out of range, but he couldn't be sure where the wires would end up if he did.
What if someone else got hurt because he made the wrong choice?
He couldn’t risk it.
With no time to think it through, he decided to just grab the wires. He was fairly confident he could take the electric shock. Dad always could, right?
It might hurt him, but it wouldn't kill him.
He sped in front of the family, reaching out and scooping each of the rogue wires into his hands. The action was over so fast he didn't even feel the electrical current until he came to a stop in the street, all eyes on him as he clutched the wires.
But then he felt it.
Oh, he really fucking felt it.
Burning pain tore through him, blinding him, causing his whole body to seize and convulse.
Jordan couldn’t even scream.
He was dimly aware of his name being called. A variety of voices jumbled together around him. Strong hands settled over his, and he felt someone prying his fingers open, peeling the wires from his grip. Once he was free from their magnetic-like pull, he felt his muscles give and his body crumpled. He had no energy left to keep himself upright.
Someone caught him. His brother maybe? It sounded like Jon’s voice repeating his name in a horrified chant; but he couldn’t respond, not yet.
As the shock faded, the burning pain in his chest and hands increased, causing him to wince; but he could already feel his body starting to heal. He gritted his teeth as he waited for the pain to subside, gasping with relief when it reached tolerable levels.
“I… I'm okay,” he said shakily.
He held his hands out in front of him, staring down at the bright purple burn marks that were already shrinking.
“See, I'm—”
Jordan’s vision turned black.
His brother called his name again, but the sound was fading, like he was drifting further and further away. Jordan felt the strangest sensation wash over him, as though he was sinking inside his own mind, travelling deeper and deeper into himself and leaving the high street behind.
Then there was silence.
Not just quiet, like everyone had stopped talking, but an absolute, chilling silence.
An equally intense darkness accompanied the absence of sound, and for a moment, Jordan panicked, wondering if he’d somehow gone blind and deaf. But as he searched his senses, that didn't seem right. There was only one way to know for sure though.
“Hello?” he called out into the nothingness.
The sound of his own voice was music to his ears. It echoed around him, but there was no response. He listened closely for a few tense seconds, then tried again, holding his breath as he waited.
This time, to his amazement, he saw a pin prick of light form in front of him. He blinked… was the light getting bigger? Or was he getting closer to it? He was too disoriented to tell.
Jordan could only watch as the opening of light became big enough that he was sure he could step through it. There was nothing but white on the other side, as empty as the black all around him.
He had no idea what it actually was, nor where it might lead, but he was drawn to it, overcome with the inexplicable urge to throw himself through it. He searched around the strange mindscape he was trapped in and decided there weren’t a lot of good options here.
Wherever this portal of light might take him, it had to be better than pitch black silence, didn’t it?
Jordan stepped through the portal, and felt the light envelop him.
For an instant, there was nothing.
And then…
Everything.
A montage of images barreled through his mind, too fast and intense to process. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe. Whatever was happening to him was completely overwhelming his system.
Just as he felt like his mind might fracture into a thousand pieces and never repair, the onslaught of images began to slow. Soon there were only a few floating through his awareness, and he could bring each of them into clearer view.
A forest full of towering trees, covered in luminescent moss and purple flowers. Clear turquoise water cascading down crystalline cliffs. Crowds celebrating in glowing halls. People uniting in joy and laughter over plates of food Jordan didn’t recognize. He saw fields of golden crops. Heard the musical tones they were emitting, the sound carrying on the wind passing through them.
It was only then he realized that they weren't just pictures.
They were memories.
Kryptonian memories.
Jordan was excited to find he could bring one of them into full focus. A warm, inviting memory of a couple walking hand in hand along a purple-sanded beach. Twin moons decorated the sky as the couple leaned in for a long yearning kiss. He could feel their love for each other. Not just as an observer, but as though they were his own feelings. The sensation washed over him, ridding him of the lingering awareness of his recent pain.
“JORDAN!”
He heard his Mom’s sharp call interrupting the peaceful scene. She still sounded distant, but he could hear her urgency.
Part of him longed to stay and watch the rest of the memory unfold, to indulge in the pleasurable feeling he was sharing with the mystery couple.
But he couldn’t just leave his family to worry.
He forced himself to call back.
“Mom?”
“Jordan, please wake up,” she pleaded.
He had no idea if she'd heard him, but he fought to return to her, willing himself towards the sound of her voice.
Jordan searched for something to ground him and found the feel of solid asphalt beneath him. He focused on that hard point of contact with the real world as he struggled to return to his body.
With a strangled gasp, he was back. His eyes flew open to a sea of concerned faces. Mom, Dad, Jon, and half the town behind them, all eyes on him.
“Jordan!” Mom cried out again, relief softening the word.
She pulled him into her embrace, and he rested against her, his gaze not leaving the worried expressions on his dad and brother's faces.
“Are you okay?” Dad asked.
“What the hell was that?” Jon breathed.
Jordan just shook his head, still a little shaky, but less terrified than he was sure he should be. A strange sense of euphoria persisted, unlocked by the images in the white place.
He had no idea what was going on. What he'd seen. What any of it meant.
But whatever it was, it was beautiful.