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When Jordan had first suggested that they turn the barn loft into a hang out space, Jon hadn’t been particularly enthusiastic.
As far as he was concerned, they had enough comfortable spots to play video games and unwind in the house. The undertaking hadn’t seemed necessary. But Jordan had insisted that they make something new— something they could share. And since Jon had been more prone to avoiding public spaces since the big reveal, he’d eventually relented.
It had given them something to do during the strange first summer in the spotlight.
It had given them another place where they could simply be themselves.
They more they’d worked on it— reenforcing the structure, hauling in furniture, wiring it up with a small generator— the more it had grown on him.
And on that particular October evening, he was more grateful for it than ever.
It had been an eventful day at school, to say the least. After what had happened, he’d needed a place to get away.
Even the stares of his parents felt like too much. When he’d first gotten home, he’d withered under their concerned gazes— it wasn’t as bad as the terrified looks he’d received outside the cafeteria earlier, but it had still made him feel worse.
After months of assuming he had perfect control, months of thinking that he could handle it all, Jon had messed up.
His eyes had flashed with red— in the middle of the school day.
He’d had a power surge. A momentary loss of control. Nothing had erupted, and no one was hurt. But dozens of his fellow students had seen. That had been more than enough.
The gasps and the fearful gazes were still etched in his mind and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to shake them off any time soon.
Jordan and his dad had both assured him that it wasn’t his fault.
Apparently, there had been a minor solar flare that afternoon. The first since his powers had set in. They’d both felt them before, and knew how to cope without letting the surge in energy show.
But Jon didn’t, and he hadn’t been able to keep his welling powers completely at bay.
He’d felt a strange sensation just after lunch and he hadn’t reacted quickly enough. In his confusion, he’d simply frozen in place and he hadn’t even realized that his gaze had filled with a pulsing red until the people around him backed away.
Despite the fact that everyone knew about his family and he now flew into harrowing situations on a regular basis, he’d never truly felt like a freak until that moment.
The controlled facade— the face that looked so convincingly human— had faltered.
A few brief seconds had been enough to expose what was always looming beneath.
He could only imagine what the rest of Smallville High was saying about him now. If someone had been fast enough to pull out a camera, the rest of the world was probably saying things too…
He was afraid to go online or let his hearing stray, but he knew he’d have to face it eventually.
Jon released a tense sigh in an attempt to steady his breathing as his mind continued to swirl.
He was grateful for the seclusion of the barn, now more than ever. As he lay on the old futon Jordan had found, starring up towards the ceiling beams, he could make out the first glimmers of light in the night sky through a crack they’d been meaning to patch.
He tried to focus on those.
On the stars.
They usually calmed him.
Though, in the circumstances, he couldn’t help but wonder if was meant to be amongst them.
He’d pondered that before, but never too seriously. Earth was home, and he was just a guy who happened to have superpowers. That was what he’d always told himself.
But with the image of his terrified peers freshly etched in his mind, it was harder to hold onto that than ever.
He wasn’t like them. He never really had been, and he definitely wasn’t now. When his powers had first set in, the excitement and relief that he could finally make a difference had overcome everything else. He’d focused on saving his dad, and on ridding the world of Luthor’s threats. Then there had been the aftermath, and the unexpected fame.
He’d really only settled back into a semi-normal routine in the fall, but nearly every day since had been filled with small revelations he hadn’t contemplated before. In an instant, so many “normal” experiences and sensations had slipped from his grasp. He couldn’t feel the chill of the October air, he couldn’t remember what it was like to feel exhaustion or pain.
He couldn’t sleep when the sun was in the sky, he couldn’t shave or cut his hair without heat vision and a shard of Kryptonian metal. He couldn’t stop his body from growing faster than any seventeen year olds should.
And, apparently, he couldn’t stop his eyes from blazing when the sun intensified its rays.
As he blinked towards the night sky, Jon couldn’t help but wonder how he’d convinced himself that he still belonged.
A strange combination of sadness and yearning and worry welled within him and his spiralling thoughts were only interrupted by the familiar sound of someone else speeding in his direction.
He had just enough time to sit up on the futon before Jordan appeared in the loft, his current outfit suggesting that he’d just come back from some sort of save.
The familiar red symbol on his brother’s rapidly broadening chest instantly captured his gaze and he found himself subconsciously raising a hand to touch the fabric of his hoodie, feeling the same shape outlined beneath.
Somehow, that managed to both comfort and unsettle him all at once.
And clearly, Jordan knew him well enough to know he wasn’t doing great.
“See? I told you it was a good idea to have a brooding spot outside of the house,” his twin commented before flopping down on the arm chair they’d rescued from the attic. He looked weirdly casual and out of place in the super suit.
Jon rolled his eyes.
“I’m not brooding.”
“Fine, worrying then.”
Jordan’s tone wasn’t helping his mood and he couldn’t hold back a scowl. He knew he wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Well, wouldn’t you be worried if you’d just accidentally flashed half the school with your freaky laser eyes?” he huffed back, the knot of anxiety clenching in his stomach.
So many people had seen, and even some of his closest friends had looked scared of him. Malcom had been there. And Denise…
“I blew up a bonfire with my freaky laser eyes,” Jordan reminded him with an annoyingly blasé shrug, “and they welled up at school when my hearing was setting in. Then I nearly blew up a football game.”
All of that was true, of course. And way more dramatic and dangerous than what had happened to Jon. He hadn’t really contemplated the parallels yet, though it didn’t really help.
Things had been different then.
“Fine, but no one saw you. And no one knew about us,” he pointed out, his frown deepening. Jordan had certainly had a rougher time with his gradual emergence of powers, but at least he’d had the privilege of secrecy back then.
The entire world had learned about their family a mere three weeks after Jon’s powers had emerged. They were always being watched now, and (while most people viewed them positively) there was a vocal minority who were wary of Superman’s children. As much as their parents had tried to shield them from it, he knew that some questioned how safe it was to let two super-powered teenagers roam around.
Following their mother’s lead, Jon had largely brushed all of that off as paranoid bigotry— but after today, a small part of him couldn’t help but wonder if those people had a point. He’d never purposefully hurt anyone, of course. He’d spent months trying to prove that his mission was the opposite.
But the world around him was suddenly made of glass and, apparently, there were times when he couldn’t keep his powers at bay. Any loss of control could have terrible consequences.
While he’d known that abstractly for a while, he hadn’t felt the chilling reality of it until now.
The thought made him feel sick (well, as close to sick as his super-powered body could feel).
“The world is watching us now, Jordan,” he started again, “we can’t afford to screw up. Dad is always going on about how we have to build trust, and that’s hard to earn with glitchy powers that scare the shit out of people.”
He let out another long sigh, unable to repress the fear that it was already too late. If word about that afternoon got around, the naysayers would be out in full force.
“I’ve messed up way more than you have,” Jordan reiterated, “and this totally wasn’t your fault. Solar flares take a bit of practice to deal with. But grandma can help with that, and you’ll be ready to ride it out next time.”
He knew that was true, but it wasn’t as comforting as he wanted it to be. He couldn’t stop thinking about how precarious their position was.
“Do you ever feel like—“ he stopped, hesitating as he mulled the thought over. After a brief pause, he pushed ahead. “Do you ever feel like we have to prove ourselves? Prove that we actually belong here?”
Jordan’s expression shifted as Jon posed the question, his brow furrowing into something more serious.
“We belong here,” his brother replied. Though there was a slight waiver in his voice.
Jon could sense that he was willing himself to believe it, despite an undercurrent of doubt.
And the fact that Jordan was sitting there in full Superboy attire made the statement even less convincing.
Jon took a breath, glancing briefly towards the stars before looking back at the other teen.
“Do we?” Jon asked, allowing his own doubts to flow out of him. It was freeing and unsettling at the same time. He needed to talk about it, and Jordan was by far the best person to do it with.
He was the only other person like him in the entire universe.
“We have to control every breath and every movement. Every second of every day,” Jon pointed out, flexing a hand in front of him. It looked so normal, but he knew the damage he could do with a miscalculated touch.
Control had come naturally to him, which was lucky. But as that day had shown, it wasn’t perfect.
“We have all of this energy pulsing through us and we can’t experience the world the way everyone else does. Not anymore,” he swallowed, adding an afterthought, “who knows if we ever really did.”
Jordan looked down, grasping the side of the arm chair as another beat of silence passed between them. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about it, and maybe Jon was making the day worse by pressing on, but he couldn’t hold it all in.
Perhaps that was a running theme.
“Yeah, I know. Obviously I know,” Jordan replied quietly, meeting his gaze. “But we’re from here. This is our planet, we shouldn’t have to prove anything.”
“We shouldn’t have to,” Jon agreed, “but it still kinda feels like we do.” He let out another sigh, “like it or not, we’re famous for being Superman’s sons, more than anything else. Everyone knows we have powers, and the fact that we fly around like that,” he gestured to Jordan’s outfit, “just solidifies the fact that we’re…different.”
He’d been so excited when his dad had made them their suits a few months ago. He’d worn it with pride ever since, the family symbol on full display. He didn’t regret that. At all. But he felt more aware than ever of what that openly conveyed.
“We’re super-powered aliens, Jordan. We can’t afford to lose control or cast any doubt on how safe we are to be around. But I just did.”
His brother gave a slow nod, running a hand through his recently cropped hair. He looked more like their dad than ever nowadays— they both did.
“If it makes you feel better,” his brother tried, “I heard mom on the phone with Principal Balcomb earlier. She told her about the solar flare and cleared everything up. You’re not, like, in trouble or anything.”
Jon’s stomach clenched. On the one hand, that was obviously a good thing. He didn’t want to be kicked out of school for a temporary blip. But, while he knew it was inevitable, he couldn’t help but dread the stares and whispers that would surround him there. The ones they’d gotten after the big reveal had only just started to wane and now he’d be in the spotlight again.
He also didn’t love that his mom had had to call up the principal to explain that his weird body had been reacting to some unexpected solar energy. Once again, he couldn’t help but feel like a freak.
“Great. I guess,” he said heavily, slumping further into the futon. He hoped his parents wouldn’t make him go back until after the weekend.
He wanted things to die down as much as possible. Even if it was going to be awkward no matter what. There was no actual escape, only a delay.
The same could be said for his very existence. Everything had changed the moment his powers had set in and there was no turning back.
He was what he was.
The uncomfortable thoughts still churning within, Jon angled his head towards the window on the far side of the loft.
They’d set up their dad’s old telescope there (even though they didn’t actually need it to gaze far into the depths of space). The stars still twinkled in the distance, some bright and some dim.
He wondered if a dimmer one would have suited him better.
Wondered if that would have made his life less complicated.
Though it was pretty pointless to even think about it.
“It’s just a void,” he muttered, still transfixed on the vast sky beyond the barn. It was so inconceivably big, and yet somehow their father had passed through it and ended up in this exact spot.
They only existed because Krypton was gone.
They wouldn’t have been born if the planet had survived.
That was a crazy thought, and one that filled him with a surprising amount of guilt.
“There is nothing where Krypton used to be,” he started again, stating a fact they both knew. It made him feel more melancholy than usual that night. “There is nowhere else for us to go, even if we wanted to.”
Jordan was looking towards the stars now too and gave another slow nod.
“Yeah, that sucks,” he agreed, hand brushing against the crest on his suit. “But I guess it’s here now. In some ways. That’s what dad always says, right? We’re what’s left, and we have each other. At least there’s that.”
It was the most comforting thought he could hold onto, especially after the day he’d had.
Others might have reacted to him with fear and uncertainty, but his family never would. They had their own definition of normal.
Even if his circle was depressingly small, he was grateful for it.
“It seems stupid now, but I thought everyone knowing would clear the air, and make it easier to fit in,” he said, letting out another long breath. “But now people just know how weird we are and why. And today…it’s not like I can just pretend I huffed some XK or something. I have to own up to being the half-Kryptonian kid with unstable powers.”
“Today was just a blip, and your control has been amazing from the start,” Jordan replied, offering a small smile, “I was totally jealous when everything kicked in and you were a total natural.”
Jon snorted.
“Well, apparently crazy shit can still happen,” he pointed out grimly.
“Fine,” Jordan relented, “but we can explain it. And people will move on.”
“Once I build back their trust and prove I can blend in,” Jon added, still frowning. He had to believe that he could do it but, right now, it was a daunting task.
He had no idea how long it would take, and the thought of being even more guarded and on alert was mentally exhausting.
But there wasn’t really a choice.
“Even without random solar flares, pretending to be like everyone else is harder than I thought,” he confessed.
Everything had slipped away so abruptly for him and he hadn’t had time to sear every little detail of a normal existence into his memory. Even though he wasn’t technically keeping up a secret identity, he did find himself observing others and emulating their reactions.
He’d pull off his hoodie when others complained about the heat, or say he was thirsty even though he never was. Stupid little things like that which made him feel…human.
But it was all a facade. One he’d probably been keeping up for himself as well as others.
And one that had abruptly disappeared for a few moments that afternoon.
“Yeah, it’s hard. Because we’re not like everyone else,” Jordan replied honestly. “But we don’t have to pretend here,” he continued, gesturing around the loft. “That’s why we need places like this. Sometimes we just have to let it all out.”
He looked at Jon for a long moment before seemingly making a decision.
After flashing him a small smirk, Jordan blinked, allowing his eyes to suddenly fill with a pulsing red glow.
He didn’t release any heat. He simply sat, the evidence of what was always bubbling beneath on full display.
It was a strange sight, even though Jon had seen it before. Usually in the midst of a crisis. There was something different about doing it casually like this. Sitting in the barn with the stars stretching out behind the old walls.
In some ways, it was unsettling to see his twin brother doing something so obviously weird. Especially because it was a reminder of what he’d done earlier.
But it was comforting too.
He wasn’t alone, and he never would be.
“Come on, don’t hold back,” Jordan urged, smiling beneath the red haze he’d summoned. “It’s just us, and we can do as much weird alien stuff as we want in here.”
Jon let out a snort and, after a moment of hesitation, he decided to give in.
With perfect control, he drew on the exact amount of energy he needed to make his gaze glow just as bright.
It was undoubtedly strange, but a sense of relief washed over him too. Maybe it was the release he needed.
Jordan was right. He didn’t have to hold back when it was just them.
This was their normal now. It was way easier to embrace that together.
They’d never be entirely of this world but, as they turned back towards the night sky together, the red glow they both drew from within made him think of a distant star.
He’d never live beneath its light but maybe that light was part of them now.
They could fill the void.
They could find their way.
No matter what crazy and unexpected things happened next, and no matter how much doubt and pressure they faced, Jon could always hold on to that.