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Part 1 of Escapismverse
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2021-08-18
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2024-01-06
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22/31
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Escapism

Summary:

Sucked into a portal created by the villain Warp, Garfield Logan finds himself sent to Smallville, Kansas on another Earth, where he's taken under the care of Clark Kent and Lois Lane, along with befriending and becoming housemates with their twin sons: Jonathan and Jordan.

Experiencing the unknowns of a normal teenage life alongside The Kents, Gar finds himself growing deeply fond of the fresh start this Earth allows him to have and family that calls it home.

While Garfield is adjusting to his new life, Jonathan finds himself in a confusing time in his: recovering from a traumatic experience and gaining powers unlike his family has ever seen.

Both boys finding themselves growing closer together as they travel down a different yet same path.

Notes:

An au made to focus on Gar and Jonathan since the shows they're featured in don't give them the spotlight and stories they deserve, Escapism is everything you just read in the summary.

Prepare yourselves cause this au is a roller coaster I swear. There's so much going on, so much to tell, it's gonna be a wild ride but in a good way,,

enjoy! ❤️

IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm no longer in the Titans (2018) fandom and don't want this universe to be tied to that show anymore, so I'm officially removing Titans from this fic. But don't worry nothing is changing! No characters or stories are being changed. Besides a few lines I replaced with new ones that fit this universe, everything else is exactly the same. Gar is still Gar, he's not changing at all, and the Titans he's separated from are just a version of the Titans, not solely the 2018 show version.

Chapter 1: The beginning

Chapter Text

You never know when a day won't go as planned, do you? You go through your routine as the day unfolds, normally going as every other day, maybe there'll be a few hiccups but nothing too drastic, nothing that throws your routine, let alone your whole life, for a curve. You could never plan for a surprise change in the story. That’s why when the Smallville Gazette and the street surrounding it began to shake, Lois abandoned her seat and marched over to the window, Crissy at her side in a matter of seconds; asking questions Lois didn’t have answers for just yet.

Peering outside, it wasn’t long before the journalist spotted the source of the vibrations: The sky, clear blue moments ago, twisted into an ominous wine red, accompanied by clouds colored pink swirling slowly around as the lightning inside follows the same pattern.

It’s been two years since Superman and the D.O.D put an end to Morgan Edge and since then, it seems like the world went back to a sense of normalcy- well, as normal as a family made up of Superman, Lois Lane, and their twin alien hybrid sons can be. This, whatever it was, was about to put their normalcy to a screeching halt in ways they could never prepare for.

Across town, returning home from a boring day at Smallville High School, Jordan alongside his twin Jonathan found themselves stopped, frozen in their tracks. Hovering in the middle of the road, a few feet away, is what looked like a tear in the universe. A vertical jagged line color matching the sky with what looked like pink electricity surging from it.

Jordan steps back, eyes round and unmoving from the anomaly, “What the hell is that?”

“I-” Jonathan gulped, “I don’t know.”

It wasn’t until the tear began growing in size, electricity quickening, and a thundering crack sound from inside did the twins break from their trance. Grabbing Jordan’s wrist, Jonathan pulled him over to the nearest barricade, a mound of dirt in a field, and lowered behind it. The brothers held onto each other, bracing for something large and dangerous to crawl out of the rift.

Just as quickly as the odd storm came, it left. The red sky returned to blue and the rift stitched itself shut, disappearing as if it was never there.

Prompted by the sudden silence, Jon blinked his eyes open to investigate. Relieved by the sight of the bright blue sky above, the teenager twisted around and peered over the dirt mound, inspecting where the rift previously was.

Jonathan didn’t really know what he was expecting to see: an alien, a monster, some kind of gross goop maybe, but the body of another human being lying still in the middle of the street definitely wasn’t something that crossed his mind.

“What the..?”

“What? What is it?”

Ignoring his twin’s question, Jon vaults himself over the mound and steps slowly and cautiously closer to the body in the road. Kneeling down, he narrowed his gaze and eyed the unconscious human; taking immediate notice of the teen’s bright green hair and fresh scrapes under his left eye and forehead. No doubt caused by the road. Next came the weird attire, a whole body suit, black and purple, with what looked like armor for protection and a green paw print set in the middle of the chest piece. As far-fetched as it sounds in his head, it looks like the stranger was sporting some kind of super suit.

Jordan appears over Jon’s shoulder, “Is he dead?”

Jonathan tilts his head and presses two fingers to the teenager’s neck, checking for a pulse. When a steady beat pulses under his fingers, he breathes a sigh of relief and retreats his hand.

“He’s alive, just out cold.”

“Who is he?”

Jon hears his twin question aloud as if he’d have the correct answer. Some dude who fell out of a portal is the only explanation he’s got.

“I don’t know,” Jon scooted behind the stranger’s shoulders and slid his hands under his arms, lifting the teen up as he stood, “But we can’t leave him here to get run over, I’m taking him to the house.”

Jordan blinked, watching his blonde twin begin to walk backwards in the direction of their home while dragging a complete stranger like he was trying to flee the scene and dispose of the body.

“Dude, it looks like you killed him.”

“Well, how else am I going to get him back to the house?” Jon frowned, raising an eyebrow, “I can’t pick him up, he’s just as big as me.”

“There has to be something else we can--”

Their discussion quickly comes to a close when an all too familiar truck comes to a screeching halt behind them. Freezing in place, the boys stared round eyed as their mother swung the door open and marched towards them, hazel eyes moving between them and the teenager being held up by Jon.

“Jonathan! Jordan! What happened?”

“We didn’t hurt him!” The twins reply in unison.

“A portal opened in the road during that weird ass storm, I think he came out of it. I just wanted to help.” Jonathan added an explanation as this whole picture must look quite weird.

“Okay, okay,” Lois ran her hand through her hair with a deep inhale. Smallville must be a hotspot for people from other universes to visit. “Jonathan stay in the back with.. whoever that is and Jordan, you’re up front.”

Jon nods.

“Where are we going?” Jordan asked his mother, pulling the car door open.

“Home.”


It happened in San Francisco, he remembers that. There had been an argument between him and the team leaders, they separated for the day. He awoke to a strange red storm and a rift in the universe tore open. Inserting himself into the mess before the tear could drag Raven into it's metaphorical jaws, Beast Boy sacrificed himself by shoving his friend out of the way, allowing the portal to take him instead. That's where his memory ends. He doesn’t remember what happened inside the portal, just the last thing he saw before it shut: Nightwing running and reaching for him.

Garfield doesn’t know how long he’s been unconscious but assumes it’s been awhile because when he blinks his eyes open he’s staring at circling fan blades and lying comfortably on a couch. The portal couldn’t have kicked him out into a random living room, someone found and brought him here.

Sitting up, he lifted his hand to inspect whatever it was he could feel stuck to his face. Determining it to be gauze, his gaze took a sweep of the room. There’s a fireplace to his right with framed photos sitting on top, chairs on each side of the couch. Rustic décor seemed to be the main theme. If he had to guess, by the decorations and look of the room, this was a farmhouse out somewhere in the middle of a no-where town in the countryside.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

The teen snapped his head in the direction the voice came. Standing in the doorway, another teenage boy who looked to be around the same age as Gar, holding a plastic cup full of water and blinking at him with round, ice blue eyes. He had blonde hair, short on the sides with a poof of curls on top, clad in a long sleeve white shirt with a thick brownish orange stripe in the middle, a gold chain necklace around his neck, and jeans that tucked into a pair of green nikes that Gar swears he has as well back on his earth.

“Um,” The blonde teen steps closer and holds the cup out for Garfield to take, “I was going to drink this, but you probably need it more than me.”

After a moment of hesitation, Gar takes the cup from the other teen and lifts it to his nose to sniff, enhanced senses checking for the scent of poison or drugs. Always check before drinking anything a stranger gives you, a tip from Nightwing.

The blonde tilts his head.

Senses ruling out anything suspicious, giving him the green light to drink, he gulps the whole cup of water down a few seconds. Guess he was thirstier than he thought.

Gar set the empty cup on the side table next to him, “Thank you.”

“No problem, man.” The teen rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, then points over his shoulder with his thumb, “I’m gonna let my family know you’re awake.”

As the blonde teen began to exit the living room, Gar swiftly hopped off the couch and grabbed the other teen’s wrist to keep him from leaving. An effort earning a confused, slightly panicked look from the blonde, who’s gaze moves in between Gar’s face and hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Wait! Where am I? Who are you?”

The teen’s expression relaxed at the reasonable interrogation, relieved Gar’s sudden burst of speed was to ask questions and not harm him.

“Smallville, Kansas and you’re currently in my house. You are completely safe here, don’t worry.” The other boy shrugs as a grin pulls at his lips, “We kind of have the best security system, trust me.”

Gar releases his grip from the teen’s wrist and folds his arms over his chest.

“I’m Jonathan, by the way, but you can call me Jon.” The newly named teen smiled, “What about you? I can’t keep calling you ‘dude I found in the road’

So, the portal kicked him out onto a road? Makes sense. Did Jonathan drag him to his house by himself and how far away is the road? Would he have got hit by a car if Jon didn’t show up? Ugh. Too many questions, he’s getting a headache.

“Garfield, but I prefer Gar.”

“Sweet,” Gar flinches when Jon gently punches his upper arm. “Our names match!”

Dumb as it sounds, Gar didn’t understand Jonathan's comment until he repeated their names in his head. Jon and Garfield, like the newspaper comic characters, duh! It was refreshing to have someone not question his name or look at him like it’s the weirdest name they’ve heard.

In the doorway another teenager appears, longer black curly hair and clad in all black from his jeans to his hoodie. A style reminding Gar of Rachel and her all black and blue wardrobe.

“Of course,” The boy scoffed, “You were supposed to notify mom when he woke up, not start a conversation.”

“Gar,” Jon nods towards the other teen, “This is my twin brother Jordan.” Then repeats with Gar, “Jor, this is Gar.”

Gar gives an awkward smile at Jordan’s just as awkward wave.

“I’m, uh, gonna tell mom so she can inform dad.”


“So, you’re from another earth and on that earth, there’s a group of superheroes called The Titans?”

Sitting in one of the living room chairs with hands clasped together and set on his lap, the adult man with short black hair and eyes framed by a pair of square glasses questions.

Gar nodded, “Yeah, we protected San Francisco.”

“You were a superhero, too?”

Averting his gaze from the boys’ father to Jordan, who was sitting on the opposite end of the couch, then to Jonathan in between them, leaning back comfortably, practically sinking into the cushion with arms folded over his chest. He wonders how detailed he should get in his answer. These people seem nice but also doesn't know a single thing about them..

Simple it is.

Gar shrugs, “I was in training, but yes.”

Jon adds to the game of twenty questions next, “Do you have, like, powers or whatever?”

Jonathan's question seemed to draw everyone’s attention to Garfield. Eight eyes staring at him in interest and curiosity, awaiting his answer. If only the answer was simple - like Superman’s powers simple - but having to explain shapeshifting and how he’s able to do such a thing? They could be here for hours.

“It’s um.. Complicated,” Gar chuckled, “I’m still learning how to use them.”

Gar watches Clark share a quick glance at Jordan, then to his wife. A silent conversation going on between the three people and he looks down to Jonathan for confirmation, raising an eyebrow. Jon only presses his lips into a smile and shrugs.

“Do you know if these Titans will be able to find you?”

Lois’ words brought a frown to Gar’s face and he shook his head. It was the truth. The Titans are an amazing team, smart, and work together perfectly and there’s no doubt they’ll be doing whatever they can to search for him, but if they can or will find him is another story. None of them knew portals to other earths existed and only Fate knows what earth he’s on right now, it was completely random the portal landed him onto this one, and how many he passed before this one. There could be hundreds or thousands of earths his family would have to search until they find him, that could take them years.

The woman exhales, glancing at her husband then back to Gar. There’s a kind, sympathetic look in her eyes that made Gar’s fears feel a little less intense, “Until your team can find you, you’re welcome to stay here.”

Gar tilts his head, “Really?”

“You aren’t the first guy from another earth that’s stayed with us,” Jordan comments, “And you’ll be a lot more fun to hang out with than an old man.”

“Old man?” Clark cuts in, “Me and John are the same age.”

“We don’t have another room, so you’ll have to bunk with one of these two. I promise they’re well behaved boys.” Lois smiles, “We have a spare bed in the basement, I’ll have Clark clean and set it up for you. If that’s okay.”

“All good.” Gar matches her smile, “Thank you, I greatly appreciate it.”

Jonathan raises his hand to volunteer before his twin even has a chance to speak up about the arrangement, “He can stay with me. My room is bigger than Jordan’s anyway.”

Gar nods in agreement when Lois gazes at him for an okay.

“Welcome to room de Jonathan.” Jon holds a balled fist up for Gar to bump.

Smiling at the action, Gar bumps his fist into his new roommate's.

“I hope you can sleep with him tossing and turning all night,” Jordan snorts, crossing his arms, “Oh, and snoring that sounds like choking.”

Jon throws his hands up in protest, “Dude!”

The green haired teen chuckles quietly, watching the blonde playfully shove his twin into the couch’s armrest and Jordan retaliating by slapping Jon on the back of the head gentle enough to not cause harm, insisting what he said was true.

“Boys,” The adult chided, “Your mother just said you were well behaved.”

The twins put their antics on pause, focus on their father, and reply in unison, “We are.”

Lois sighs, getting to her feet, “Jon, take Gar to your room and get him something-” She eyes the teen’s super suit for a moment, “-More comfortable to wear before dinner.”

The teen exhales and pushes himself up from the couch, “Alright. Come on, man.”

Taking one more glance at the new faces he’ll be living with, Garfield stands and follows after Jonathan. He’s gonna have to get used to this, remember where everything is and what leads to where. Get used to climbing stairs instead of an elevator and hopes he never accidentally falls down them because his brain is too familiar with the lack of stairs in the tower.

/

Sitting on the edge of the teen’s bed, he watches Jon dig through his dresser drawers, searching for clothes for him to wear.

“Here,” Jon hands him a pair of dark gray pajama pants and blue t-shirt with the Superman logo in the middle, “I don’t have a lot of loungewear.. That’s more Jordan’s thing.”

“Superman fans?” Gar asks with a hinted smirk, raising an eyebrow.

Jon breathes, “You could say that..”

Scratching the side of his face, he proceeds to back up towards the open doorway, “I’ll, uh, let you get changed without an audience..” He laughed awkwardly.

Pausing right before exiting, he adds, “My mom is making dinner and you’re welcome to join if you're hungry or just want company, but if not, that’s cool, you can chill up here.”

“Thanks, Jon.” Jon. Being a part of a family with names like Dick and Koriand’r, a simple name like Jonathan sounds foreign to speak, “I am pretty hungry,” Honestly, there’s never a moment where he’s not hungry. Damn fast animal metabolism. “So, I’ll be down.”

“Got it! I’ll make sure mom makes enough food.”

The bedroom door shuts and Gar sighs, starting to remove his suit, pulling the chest piece off first then the body armor shirt he wore under, replacing it with the t-shirt. Turning his gaze down to the Superman logo, he couldn’t help but chuckle. What are the odds. On his earth, his family were a family of Bats- for obvious reasons - but it looks like, out of the many earths that portal could have chosen, it chose to drop him into a family of Supers.

Chapter 2: The friendship

Summary:

a beautiful friendship is born.

Notes:

there's not a doubt in my mind that these two would become best friends as quickly as possible and that's what I wanted to write

also think of this as an epilogue to chapter 1
this what happened the first night at the Kent household

Chapter Text

It felt like his body was being compressed inside of a tube, like those tubes you slide down at a waterpark but if it was closing in around you, as random colors flashed in his eyes. The colors blinding him from whatever was surrounding him inside the portal. In the compression he was moving faster than he ever has before, probably just as, if not faster than the Flash. While it felt like he was being crushed, there had also been the feeling of being torn apart from the middle. Everything was so fucking loud too, he thought his eardrums were going to burst. It was like that ride at the carnival where you’re pressed against the wall and spun like a washing machine but worse, so much worse. Bringing his hands up to cover his ears was a struggle as if he was trying to lift his hands under gallons of water being poured atop of them. Pressing his hands against his ears, he squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as possible and screamed.

That’s when he woke up.

Eyes glowing a neon green shot open as the teen is thrusted up into a sitting position, breathing heavily and shaking fingers instinctively gripping onto the blanket. From the chaotic scene in his nightmare and the room being encased in total darkness, his brain couldn’t properly register where he truly was and wanted to call out for his team leaders out of habit.

It wasn’t until a bed squeak, footsteps, and the lamp set in the middle of the beds flickering to life did Gar remember Dick and Kory weren’t here and he wasn’t in San Francisco. The blonde teenager he’s become the most familiar with moving from the lamp, taking a seat on the bedside and blinking at him with blue eyes round in concern.

“Are you okay?--whoa..” Gar watches as Jon tilts his head slightly and expression twists into one of curiosity, “What’s going on with your eyes?”

“Uh,” Quickly, Gar squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head until he could feel the power pulsing in his head -causing the green glow to his eyes- fade away, “It’s just a reaction. Power thing.”

Jonathan pressed his lips into a thin line and gaze averts to the side as if he was carefully thinking about his next question and Gar hoped it wouldn’t relate to his powers. Talking about them is something he didn’t want to do, especially not right now. Someday, just not tonight.

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me what that was about if you don’t want to, but if you want someone to talk to about it,” When Jon returns his gaze, a smile appeared on his face and Gar found a hint of one pulling at his lips in mirror, “I’m right across the room.”

“Noted. Sorry for waking you up.”

Well, that’s not what Gar expected. These are people who just met him hours ago, a teenager with super powers unknown to them and none of them have mentioned it once, even when he can tell they’re curious about it. It was almost like they’re used to people with powers and understand that sometimes metahumans feel more comfortable keeping their abilities a secret until they feel it’s the right time to reveal them. Powers are personal thing, they’re a part of you, it’s not like showing off a new outfit or recipe. So the Kent family respecting his choice (without him having to tell them) of keeping his abilities hidden for now is comforting, making everything feel a little less awkward and confusing.

“Hey, no need to apologize.” Jonathan places a warm hand on Gar’s upper arm, causing the teen to meet his icy blue gaze that Gar could swear looked like it was glowing as well. “We all go through stuff and you just went through a lot,” He shrugs with a soft chuckle, “Nothing to be sorry about.”

Actually, one thing might be a tad bit confusing. When he met the Titans years ago on his earth, they weren’t this kind to him at first. Besides Rachel, Dick and Kory seemed like they didn’t know what to do with him, but Jon hasn’t even known him a day and he’s already treating him like they’ve been friends for a while and that’s not the confusing part. His powers already determined the blonde’s characteristics and personality, though there’s definitely more going on behind the scenes, he can sense it. The confusing part is that Gar is okay with it. He usually doesn’t accept comfort or kind words but from Jon, a person who barely knows him, it feels real.. If that makes any sense? It probably doesn’t.

“Now that I’m awake,” Jon stands, stretching his arms out, “I’m gonna get a drink. If you want one too, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Um, sure.”

Pushing the blanket to the side and getting to his feet, he follows Jonathan out of their shared room and stays quite a bit closer to the other teen this time than he was earlier. Jon must know his home’s layout like the back of his hand while Gar doesn’t. The last thing he wants is to walk straight into a wall or fall down the stairs.

In the kitchen, with a cup of water in hand, Gar finds himself wandering around instead of sitting at the table with Jonathan, who’s watching him walk back and forth and investigate every little thing.

“Can’t sit down?” Jon chuckles.

“Not really.” Gar replies with a grin, opening a cupboard and inspecting what’s inside. Bowls, stacked bowls, “Back home, after I had a nightmare, I’d stay up the rest of the night because I couldn’t fall back asleep.”

“Do you get nightmares regularly?”

Gar shrugged, “Depends. I usually get them after a..” Trailing off, Gar shook his head and shut the cupboard door quietly as possible.

Jon raised an eyebrow with a hinted smirk, “Intense shit?”

“Yeah,” He laughed, bringing the cup to his lips, mumbling into the styrofoam, “Intense shit.”

Setting his cup down and leaning back in the wooden chair, Jon folds his arms over his chest, “And travelling to another earth sounds insanely intense.” The teen pauses and Gar could see the look in his eyes change to something darker, more troubled, “Hell, just learning about other earths is complicated, sometimes terrifying.”

There was a story behind Jonathan’s words, he knows it. Remembering Jordan’s words earlier about how Gar wasn’t the first person from another earth that occupied the Kent household, he wondered if something bad happened with the previous out of earth resident that caused some kind of traumatic experience and if it only happened to Jon or everyone else.

“That’s, uh, what the nightmare was about..” When the teen’s blue eyes uncloud with memory and focus on him, Gar cleared his throat and went on, “The earth travelling. I didn’t remember how fucked up how it felt until I tried to sleep. Guess my brain thought that was the appropriate time to remind me.”

“How did it feel? If you don’t mind me asking..”

Why is this family, but mostly Jon, so polite? The only polite people he met on his earth were his family but even they had their moments where they hurt him, very badly.

“Like..” Gar hummed in thought, tapping his finger against the cup, “Being stuck in an extremely loud washing machine without the water and gross ass clothes that’s been left under your bed for weeks.”

The teen’s lips stretch into a smile when Jonathan snorts at his reply. Gar always was the master at lighting the mood.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jon quieted his laughter, “I shouldn’t be laughing.”

“I purposely tried to get you to laugh, so please,” He flapped his hand, “Go on.”

Humor sparkled in the second teen's eyes as he stood from his seat and took the empty water cup to the trash can, “I’m the funny one of the house, if that wasn’t obvious enough during dinner-” It was. “-but I guess I got some competition.”

Gar raised his eyebrows and shrugged, “Or a partner in crime?”

Jonathan thought for a moment, then tilted his head to the side and pointed at Gar, “I definitely like that one better and not just because I think you’d win the competition with ease.”

With a soft laugh, Gar shook his head and averted his gaze from his roommate to the floor as his face suddenly felt warmer than it did before.

“Come on.” Jon nods forward and proceeds past the green haired teen. Gar followed without question and tried to avoid anything hidden in the dark that looked like he could walk into as best as he could.

Narrowly avoiding smacking his ankle against the hall table legs, he stepped into the living room where Jon was already turning the tv on and selecting Netflix. Moving closer to the couch and taking a seat, he eyes the blonde for a few moments before asking what he was doing.

“You said you don’t go back to sleep after a nightmare, so I thought we could watch a movie or something.”

“We?”

“Yup!” Falling back onto the opposite end of the couch, Jon shifts his gaze to Gar and points at him with the remote, speaking candidly but sprinkled with playfulness, “You literally just woke up from a universe travelling nightmare and are stuck on a completely different earth than yours. If you think I’m going to leave you down here by yourself with thoughts like that, you are mistaken.”

Smiling at teen’s blunt but kindhearted response, Gar isn’t quite sure what it is about Jonathan, but out of all the family members, he finds himself gravitating towards him the most. Maybe because their personalities are so similar or just his laid back vibe, there’s some reason.

As hard as he is on his powers, they really do pick the right people for Gar to get himself attached to and that’s something he’s got to stop doing so easily. How long he went without feeling accepted, understood, and cared for is the reason it happens so quickly. The second anyone is nice to him, more than a passing stranger’s kindness kind of way, his brain switches the ‘I wanna be your friend forever’ switch and it’s not good, he knows. However, it’s only happened with Rachel and now Jon, so clearly he’s doing something right with his choices.

And Jon’s so sweet, it’s almost sickening but he’s not complaining. How can you be this comfortable with someone you met today? And the way he jumped into action when Gar woke up, knowing exactly what to do, almost like it had been instinct. Knowing without a doubt there’s more to the blonde, the different earth discussion confirming it, he wonders if he’ll ever learn what it is. It's interesting. Jon is interesting.

But until that day comes, they’re just two sixteen year olds lounging on a couch in the dark looking for a movie to pass the time.

“Like Jurassic Park?”

“Yes!” Gar piped happily, probably louder than he should have and notices, cheeks turning red in embarrassment, “I mean, yeah. It’s my favorite movie series.” He finished in a quieter tone.

By the grin on Jonathan’s face, he didn’t seem bothered by Gar’s out of the blue raise in volume, blue eyes only glittered with curiosity and something else, but Gar couldn’t figure out what it was at the moment.

“Okay! What about popcorn?” Jon asked, though it sounded like he was talking aloud to himself, “I think we still have some leftover bags from last movie night.”

“Totally!”

And that’s all it took to send Jonathan scrambling down the hallway, returning to the kitchen for their late night snack. Laughing, Gar abandoned his spot on the couch and chased after his roommate.

“I know nothing about your earth but if you don’t have extremely buttery popcorn, I’m not staying!”

Both boys clearly forgot it’s currently three-forty two in the morning.

Chapter 3: The shopping

Summary:

Gar has no idea what the feeling of friendship is but he's learning.

Chapter Text

It’s closing in on three whole weeks since Garfield Logan found himself a part of another new family, the Kents, and honestly, he’s blended in perfectly. Helping Clark with farm work in the early mornings (as they were the only two awake) and having breakfast together when everyone woke up, joining Lois in making dinner or cleaning up around the house, playing video games with Jordan, and whatever the hell he and Jonathan get themselves into. Trying to befriend the local barn cats, wandering around the nearby woods and getting soaked because they weren’t paying attention to the many creeks located in it, getting milkshakes from the diner, just to name a few things they managed to do in the span of three weeks and who knows what else is going to happen next.

Everyday is like a new adventure and gods, he loves it.. but there’s one thing he couldn’t help feeling bad about. Ever since he was dropped onto this earth, it seems like all of Jonathan’s attention is on him -- why? Gar doesn’t know, he’s not that interesting -- which leaves his twin, Jordan out of a lot. There has to be a way Jordan can hangout with him and Jon without feeling like the third wheel, right?


Circling the upcoming week on the calendar with a blue sharpie, Jordan sighs longingly as he gazes at the freshly inked circle; a smile of fondness tugging at his lips.

“Just one more week..”

“One more week till what?”

Inhaling sharply, Jordan spun around with dark blue eyes wide in surprise. Leaning forward against island, being supported by his elbows, Jonathan raised his eyebrows and had that dumb grin he gets on his face when he thinks he’s funny. When the blonde twin went to repeat his question, Jordan cut him off.

“Shouldn’t you be upstairs getting ready with your boyfriend?”

After a noticeable eye roll, Jon pushes away from the island and steps closer to his twin, “One, he’s not my boyfriend and two, he’s getting changed so he kicked me out.” Peering over Jordan’s shoulder at the circled dates, he returns to his previous question, “What is that week, anyway? I don’t remember anything important going on.”

“Because it’s not important to you.”

Jordan hoped his brother would leave it at that and go on with his day just this once. But that’s wishful thinking. When Jon wants to know something, he doesn’t stop until he knows the classified information even if it has nothing to do with him, being the equivalent of your annoying little sibling poking your head repeating ‘tell me, tell me, tell me’. Well, only with Jordan. If Gar doesn’t want to talk about something, Jon magically forgets what they were talking about and moves onto another conversation.

“But, since I know you won’t stop pestering me until I tell you,” Jonathan shrugs at the claim. “Sarah is visiting that week.”

To the curly haired teen’s surprise, there was no immediate good-natured jab from his twin about his sometimes over the top affection for his girlfriend. She and her family moved to another city two hours away the year Edge attempted to eradicate the world and turn it into a revamped Krypton. She hasn’t got a proper visit to Smallville since then, until the upcoming week, she’s coming to see Jordan and the whole family, of course. She’ll be staying for almost a whole month.

Jordan tilts his head slightly as his brother stays silent, only brows pulled together and gaze averted to the side like he was stuck in thought.

“Hey, earth to Jon,” Smiling in amusement, he waves a hand in front of his twin’s gaze to grab his attention, “Whatcha thinking about?”

“I'm gonna, like, assume you wanted her to stay here, but where is she going to stay? There’s no room.”

Jordan isn’t sure what caught him off guard more. The fact he was too love-stupid to remember a teenager from another earth is currently residing in the only room big enough for two beds or that Jonathan is making sense.

Thankfully before the situation even got the chance to become a stressful cluster of who goes where that could have turned into re-planning and rescheduling, Jordan remembers the one spot in the house no one occupies after dark.

“The couch is always open. She can sleep there.”

“Whoa, whoa, no way.” The blonde twin shook his head in protest, “I need the couch.”

Jordan’s expression twisted in confusion as suspicion showed in his narrowed gaze, “Why? You’re never downstairs at night?”

His brother blinked at him for a moment like his brain was buying time as it searched for an answer before he scratched the side of his face and averted his gaze to something that wasn’t Jordan.

“Uh, ya know.. bad dreams and stuff. I come downstairs to, like, chill, I guess?”

“Oh,” Jordan frowns, suspicion draining from his gaze; leaving a hint of concern. With a sympathetic smile, he places a comforting hand on his twin’s upper arm, “You don’t gotta be ashamed of having bad dreams, okay? We all get them. After what happened to you--”

“Wow, thank you for the oh so sweet words, Jor,” Jordan blinked, puzzled, when Jon began to laugh awkwardly and back away, “But, I gotta get ready to go.”

Watching his brother hurry out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom, Jordan can’t help but shake his head. He’s not annoyed with his twin, just a little disappointed and now concerned. How long has he been having bad dreams and why did it take it this long to tell him? Are they about what happened with Teagan and her piece of shit friends, because if they are, Jordan is going to have a very hard time not blasting her and friends with heat vision or breaking their faces with super strength when school starts. It’s been two years and he still can’t wrap his mind around how could they do such a thing to his brother, his sunshine personified brother, who wanted nothing more than to have friends. Evil, heartless pricks. Better be glad Jordan is the son of Kal-El and not Tal-Rho or things would have gone a little different.

/

Technically Jonathan wasn't lying when he said bad dreams were the reason he needed the couch open, they were. They just weren’t his and didn’t specifically say they were, just that he and bad dreams were involved in the same thing. Why didn’t he tell Jordan that Gar was the reason? Simple. He doesn’t know if Gar even wants anyone but them to know about said nightmares and he’s not going to blab about them to Jordan. That’d be a pretty shitty move. Jon respects privacy.

That’s why when he reaches his bedroom door, he knocks twice and waits a few seconds. Since the two boys share a room, they have to take turns getting dressed for whatever is planned for the day. There’s a system; a very well run system if you ask him. Since Gar got dressed first today, Jon goes first tomorrow, then Gar, then Jon.. you get it.

Along with turn taking, there’s the door-code. Whoever is currently in the room, the roommate waiting has to knock twice before entering and if there’s no protest, you can enter. Luckily for Jonathan, growing up with a twin brother made all this so much easier, none of this is really new to him. Is there a bathroom one roommate could get dressed in while the other stays in the bedroom? Yes. Are they both too dumb to remember it and when they do, it’s too late? Also yes. Did they give up on remembering the bathroom after a week of forgetting it? Again, yes.

When there’s no voice of objection, the door opens and Jonathan steps into his shared bedroom. The green haired teenager was standing in front of the dresser, a shirt in each hand, looking between them.

Eyeing the jacket Gar had laid out on the bed behind him for a moment to help quicken the decision process, Jon pointed to the white t-shirt with light blue trim in his friend’s left hand.

“The blue and white one.”

“Really?” Gar asks, gaze unmoving from the clothing in his hands.

“Yeah.” Shutting the door, he moves towards his bed and takes a seat on the edge, “Trust me, they’re my clothes.”

Gar hums at the response as he slips the blue and white shirt over his head, then quickly runs a hand through his bright green hair to flatten the frizz the fabric caused. As he goes to grab the jacket from the bed, Jon gets to his feet and steps over to the stand between their beds. From the top drawer, he pulls out a necklace made of black string with a thin gold, slightly rusted key attached at the bottom, through the opening in the key, and turns to Gar.

“Here. No outfit of mine is complete without one of these bad boys.”

Pulling the jacket over his shoulders, Gar dipped his head, letting his friend slide the necklace over his head and around his neck. When Jon steps back, Gar inspects the key attached to the string and smiles.

“Where’d you get this one?”

“I found the key in the field and kind of just.. put it on a string.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to make to make another one,” Turing on his heel, Gar began to progress towards the bedroom door, “Because I’m stealing this one”

Jon laughed, following his friend to shut the door when he left, “How can you steal something I was already going to give you?”

Pausing in the doorway, the other teenager laughed as well and twisted around to face Jonathan, “Bull-” Gar poked his index finger into Jon’s chest “-shit. You only said that because I was going to take this one.”

Smirk tugging at the side of his mouth, Jonathan folded his arms over his chest, “Stop swearing before we both get in trouble.”

Gar huffs a mini laugh before progressing towards the staircase, “You gotta stop this ‘being nice’ to me, Jonny. It’s getting kind of freaky.”

Jon feels bad, he really does. It’s comments like those that make his heart tighten and arms ache to wrap around his friend. He’s hurt, like- very hurt, it’s obvious there’s been some serious damage done; not only because of the comments hinting at a deeper problem, but you can see it in his eyes. Exhausted. A haunting of bad memories constantly looming over you like a tiny rumble of thunder ready to turn into a hurricane of bottled emotions and ignored trauma.

It takes a person with their own hauntings to recognize another’s.

“Yeahh.. that’s never gonna happen.”


Why it’s taken this long to ship the boys off to the mall to buy Garfield clothes he didn’t have to share with Jon is anyone's guess. Whether it had to do with pay or Lois and Clark planning on what would be the right time to do what, it’s happening now. And as grateful as Gar is for Jon agreeing to share his clothes with him, dude’s style is nowhere near what Gar wears. There’s not even a pinch of neon colors or wacky shirt patterns in Jon’s dresser and don’t even get him started on the lack of green.

Standing inside at the entrance of the large, multi-floored building, all three boys were lined side to side like they were soldiers awaiting a command and actually, that’s kind of what was going on. In front of them, Lois stood and retrieved some cash from her wallet, handing it to Jon with the instructions of taking Gar shopping and staying together, no going off by yourself. When Jordan’s done getting a haircut and Lois with her own shopping, they’ll all meet up and go to lunch. And that Gar is allowed to buy something special if he wants, which Jonathan quickly explained it means he’s allowed to buy a video game or anything un-clothes related.

When the group separates into pairs of two, watching Lois walk away with Jordan at her side, Gar grins as a warm feeling of familiarity settles in his chest. Being lined up like warriors, the instructions of no splitting up and meeting at a set time. Nightwing did the same thing with the younger Titans when they’d prepare for a mission.

Not a day goes by he doesn’t miss his family. Kory’s soft voice, Rachel and Tim's laughter at his silly jokes, and Dick’s hugs, but thankfully he’s not alone on this different earth and already learning how to be a part of it, loving it, and the people in it: Clark, Lois, Jordan, and...

Turning his gaze to Jon standing a few steps away, the other teenager had his head tilted down as he counted the money in hand, lips moving and speaking silent numbers. He must have felt Gar staring at him because the count comes to an abrupt pause and ice blue eyes lift up to meet brown, frown pulling into a side smile. After returning the smile, Gar swiftly averts his gaze elsewhere and suddenly becomes aware of the key hanging from the string around his neck.

When Jonathan finishes, the boys go on their way. Side by side, Gar sticks close to his friend and not only to follow the order he was given but- as dumb as it sounds- this earth is still something completely new to him. Yeah, it's just a mall and he’s pretty sure all malls look the same but knowing it’s a mall on a different earth full of people who’re going to look at him and have no idea he’s some superpowered dude from another world, it’s a tad bit overwhelming to think about so he’s going to stay close to the only person who makes him feel not like an outsider.

Not long into their journey, Jon suggests they grab something to snack on since they both slept-in and missed breakfast. Food always being high up on the ‘important things’ list, Gar agrees without a second thought even if he has not a clue what’s in the food court. Does this earth have different restaurants and food chains than his?

After going along with Jonathan playing tour guide as he led them to the food count, Gar takes a seat at one of the open tables and waits for his friend to return with food, he offered to pay for both of them so Gar doesn’t waste money and he let him, knowing the blonde wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, anyway.

Jon’s sweet and stubborn personality is something Gar instantly took a liking to; it never fails to make him laugh or smile and sometimes he thinks that’s why Jon does it, not only to be nice but to make him laugh. It never gets annoying either because it’s so real. The Patrol didn’t care about him, their kindness was pity: ‘The poor little boy who got himself stuck living in Doom Manor.’ and Titans, their kindness sometimes felt like babying. Which is understandable, he wasn’t doing the best when he joined them and the soon-to-be Titans leaders probably picked up on it.

What he’s trying to say is: being treated like a friend, not like a superhero or a baby or like everyone’s counselor, is surprisingly more relaxing than he expected it to be. Just proves how long he went without being Garfield Logan and played multiple roles for the people around him. Here, in Smallville, he’s just Gar and no one else.

Leaning back in the black metal chair, folding his arms over his chest, Gar twists his neck side to side, observing the people around him. Definitely not the crowd in San Francisco. Closest to him were a group of high school girls chatting and giggling about something, a lone dude finishing a sandwich and texting on his phone, and a mother with her very talkative children. Children that began to raise in volume the longer he focused on them, so he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, only opening them again when the connection broke and hearing balanced out. The other enhanced senses like sight and smelling were pretty easy to learn control over, but hearing was always stubborn and thinks it’s funny making random conversations or noises around him loud without warning. It’s not.

“Sorry that took so long,” When Jon takes the seat across from him, Gar tilts his head with a lips pulled into a slight smile like a confused puppy. Jon was only gone a few minutes, what’s he apologizing for. “This place hasn’t been busy like this since before Edge.”

Taking the soft pretzel handed to him, he blinked just as confused but with a little bit of curiosity added in, “What’s Edge?”

Jonathan seemed to freeze up at the question, ice blue eyes round and shoulders tensed, like it had been something Gar shouldn’t have brought up, even though Jon spoke about it first. With a clearly forced laugh, Jon’s gaze roamed around the court in quick flashes before meeting his friend’s.

“Did I say Edge?”

“Yes.” Gar replied, then ripped a piece of pretzel off with his teeth.

“Edge.. okay, um-” Jon crossed his arms tightly over his chest and frowned, “Without going into too much detail, it was like some social experiment two years ago that turned bad, like, way bad. It almost broke apart the whole town.”

Gar’s eyebrows raised as he pressed his lips together and lowered his gaze to the lemonade ice in his hand, “Yikes.”

“Yeah, that’s why Jordan’s girlfriend moved away.”

What?! Inhaling an ice cold drink down the wrong pipe in his throat instantly threw the teenager into a cough fit. Gar leaned to the side and pounded his chest with the side of his fist. Over his coughing and wheezing attempts of laughter, he hears Jon join in the laughter. No doubt drawing attention to them and for once, he doesn’t care.

“Oh, my god! Are you okay?”

Burst of laughter dying down, Gar straightens in his seat with teary eyes and smile spread across his face, “Jordan has a girlfriend?! How’d that happen?”

Jon shrugs, grin matching Gar’s, “I don’t know. No one knows. It sort of just happened.”

“Wow.”

“I guess I forgot to tell you about Sarah, huh?”

“Clearly.”

With an exhale, Jonathan leans back in his seat and proceeds to explain the story of Jordan Kent and Sarah Cushing. Through his story, it was obvious the teen was carefully dancing around certain areas, like there’s some extra information kept under wraps. Pausing at odd places and starting at new ones that leave a gap in the timeline he’s being told. He wouldn’t think much of it if this was the first time this specific thing happened, but it wasn’t. There is definitely something else going on with this family.

With the story finished and Gar informed on his housemate’s love life, he drops his gaze to the rusted key laying against his chest; fiddling with the string for a moment, “So, what about you. Are you seeing someone?”

He hears Jon shift in his chair a little, “Me? No. Not since I was fourteen. Each time ended badly-” The blonde chuckles quietly, “One worse than the other.”

Response causing him to turn his sights back onto his friend, Gar found himself observing the scar on Jon’s forehead as he continued to speak. Towards the left side, a semi-deep line starting from his temple stretching to the front of his forehead, creating a pointed down crescent-like shape. Wondering if it had to do with the ‘worse than the other’ relationship.

“You ever date anyone?”

Gar snorted and shook his head, “Never! My life has always been a cluster of nonsense, I was always occupied by something, I didn’t have the time to think about dating..” Pausing, he hummed in thought and scratched the side of his face, “I don’t think I even had a crush before.”

Jonathan tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowed in doubt and mouth curved into a smile, “Really? You haven’t dated one person?”

“Nope.”

“But you’re, like, so cool? And your hair is super sick. How did you--” Interrupted by a phone ringing, Jon grabs it off the table and gets up from his seat when reading the caller name, “It’s my dad, I’ll be right back.”

“Kay.”

Waiting until the blonde was out of sight, Gar exhales and slides down in his chair a few inches. Untensing shoulders and allowing his arms to hang comfortably at his side for a moment before running fingers through his hair and making a mental note to style it differently when he gets the chance. Something a little more fancy and put together and less messy and spiky. Someday he’s gonna have to be truthful about this green mess stuck on his head. Everyone thinks it’s dyed and are going to be confused when after months of taking showers the green never fades away.


“Dude, you’re my best friend and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but do you wear anything that’s not green?”

The green haired teen shifts his gaze away from the clothing rack to Jon standing a few feet away, inspecting the clothes he picked out.

“No, I really don’t.” Gar laughed, “It’s the only color that goes with my hair.”

Jon raises an eyebrow, looking at Gar, “If you dyed your hair blue would you dress in all blue?”

If Niles Caulder’s gods-forsaken cure turned his hair blue, he guessed he would dress in blue since it’d be his hair color and that’s the only reason he dresses in green all the time. His favorite color isn’t even green, it’s lavender. Now thinking about it, blue hair would have been a lot cooler - no pun intended - than bright green.

“Hmm.. probably.” After shrugging his shoulders, he returns to the clothing rack, “I guess if I had to dress up I’d wear something not green, but I never had to on my earth and fancy outfits aren’t really my thing.”

“Then you’re in luck because dressing up is my thing!”

Oh, he knows. He has been wearing Jonathan’s clothes for the past three weeks after all- while borrowing a few sweatshirts and hoodies from Jordan here and there, who didn’t mind in the slightest; understanding his twin’s lack of comfy clothes and wanting to not dress like an Abercrombie & Fitch model every minute of the day. It fits Jonathan, just not Gar.

Dragged over to another clothing rack, Gar stood next to his friend, watching as he skimmed through the shirts. Frowning when Jon pulled out a thin navy blue long sleeved shirt. A shirt that looked like it had been torn straight from Dick’s closet, if he might add.

“I appreciate this, dude, but I don’t look good enough to pull that off and my hair will ruin it.”

Turning around to face Gar, Jonathan frowns, “You are really hard on yourself.” Holding the shirt up in front of his friend’s chest, he tilts his head slightly and moves his gaze between the shirt and Gar’s face, “I think you’d look good.” He smiles, “And your hair isn’t as bad as you think it is, trust me.”

“Oh, um- thanks.” Heart now thumping faster in his chest, Gar clears his throat and crosses his arms, lips stretching into a sheepish grin, “I’ll- uh.. I’ll take your word for it.”

“But it’s cool if you don’t like this, I’m sure I can find something you’ll like.” Jon shrugs and goes to return to shirt when Gar interrupts, causing his roommate to keep the piece of clothing in hand.

“I mean, if you think I’d look-- er, it’d look good on me, it wouldn’t kill me to try something new, right?”

He found himself chuckling through his response as if it was funny somehow. It wasn’t. Nothing is funny. Why is he laughing? And why does every word that comes out of his mouth sound so cringy?

Jon bumps his fist into Gar’s upper arm, “Right! Smallville throws this festival every year and people kind of dress up for it, so you’re already ready to go!”

“When’s the festival?”

“Like, October twelfth to the seventeenth I think? So next month. It’s fun- well,” He shrugs with a chuckle, “As fun as a town festival can be.”

Honestly, a town festival sounds more fun than anything he’s done on his earth. The only times he left the tower were on missions. Experiencing the world around him isn’t something he did in San Francisco, only staying locked up in the tower because Dick said they’d be safer there and maybe he was right to think such a thing on that earth, but this earth seems pretty chill compared to his. He’s been out in the public like a normal person for three weeks and nothing bad has happened.

Though, it might be best not to jinx it.


Finished shopping, the boys sat outside on the curb, waiting for Lois’ car to pull up as Jordan just texted they’d be there in a few minutes and both were more than ready to tear into a plate of food like ravenous pair wolves.

Sitting out here, Garfield didn’t have much to do besides people watch and count how many cars in the parking lot were the same color. Thankfully the silence was comfortable. To his side, Jonathan is scrolling through something on his phone, not really paying attention to the world around him. Being so used to your surroundings to the point where you don’t even take a quick glance at the people strolling past you just in case is something Gar definitely doesn’t have a clue how to do. Be on high alert constantly, observe and study everything and one close to you, prepare yourself for anything and always be ready to fight. It’s all Gar knows how to do. Paranoid and ready to throw hands.

“Do you like Friday’s ‘cause that’s where Jordan says we’re going to eat.”

Gar tilts his head, looking at his friend, “What’s that?”

“It’s a restaurant,” Jon smiles, “But by your response, I’m guessing you don’t have one on your earth.”

Chuckling, he shrugs, “I guess not ‘cause I have never heard of it before.”

“It’s kind of an old place, but it has good food.”

“As long as the food is good, I could care less about everything else.” After a nod of agreement, Jon returns to his phone and Gar continues, trying to keep the conversation going, “Hey, um, about in there-'' When Jon turns back to Gar, he averts his gaze and scratches the back of his neck, “I really do appreciate you trying to help me. I mean, you could have just dropped me off and went with your mom and Jordan, but you stuck with me. Soo.. Thank you.”

Jonathan swiftly wraps an arm around his friend’s shoulder, pulling him into a side-embrace, green and blonde hair meeting; creating some mix of a hay bale and a grass field.

“Dude, you’re my best friend and I am never gonna leave your side, so-” Jon grins, ice blue eyes gazing into brown, “You’re kind of stuck with me.”

Gar raises an eyebrow, eyes unmoving, smirk tugging at the side of his mouth, “You said that like it’s a bad thing. I never had a best friend, you’re the first.”

Releasing his green haired friend from the embrace, Jon hums, “What a high honor.”

Gar huffs a mini laugh, playfulness sparkling in his eyes, “And what an honor it is to be friends with a man who knows oh so much about fashion.”

“Hey!” Jonathan laughs, clearly taking no offense to the comment, “After my football career was ruined, I had to do something and I just happen to be good at choosing outfits.”

“You used to play football?”

“Oh yeah, I used to be one of the best!”

Gar frowns, “What happened?”

Watching his friend’s face drop, expression showing sadness caused by a memory he couldn’t see, he opens his mouth to apologize for asking but Jon speaks first after a quick exhale.

“I broke my arm,” The teen’s grin returns as he holds his right arm up, “Like, three times.”

“Three times?!”

“First time some school kids beat me up, second, I was in a car crash and third, same as the first but a little more unexpectedly.” His roommate kept going as Gar listened, jaw dropped and blinking, dumbstruck, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “The last time the doctor said it was a miracle my arm healed and that if I broke it again, it probably wouldn’t. So, me playing football is never happening again.”

“Shit.” Gar breathes.

“It’s not that bad, though.” He admits with a slight head tilt, “Every player was a huge asshole. We didn’t get along.”

“I broke a rib once, that’s about it.” Gar chuckles, “I’ve been stuck in a tower most of my life so not much bad could happen to me up there, besides maybe burning my hand on the stove.”

“A tower?”

“A huge building in the city.”

“Ohh! I thought you meant like a tower tower for a second. That’d be weird.”

Gar smiles as his friend keeps talking about how weird it’d be to live in a tower. Gods, Jon could talk all day and he would never get tired of hearing his voice. It’s like listening to your favorite song- but on the radio. It’s always better on the radio. It doesn’t matter what he’s saying, something serious, goofy, or neutral. Gar is going to sit silently and listen to him go on about it. Even if it doesn’t make sense.

Is this what having a real friend feels like? Because this is a whole new type of feeling he never experienced on his earth. Anytime the blonde expresses any kind of admiration for him or even just a simple compliment makes his heart feel like he finished running a race or laugh like a complete idiot even though nothing is funny. It must be obvious he’s new to this friendship thing and doesn’t know how to react properly. It must be a sad sight, being this unfamiliar with friendship.

Not long into Jonathan’s rant, going from towers to explaining the hustle and bustle of Metropolis and how he prefers the quiet and calm of Smallville, a silver car pulls up to the curb. Out of the window hidden from view, Jordan climbs out far enough to be seen by the boys, more than likely sitting in the area the window rolls down into so he doesn't fall.

“Hey, Romeo! let's go!” The curly haired teen grins, dark blue eyes set on his twin, and pats the car’s roof, “I’m hungry!”

After shaking his head at the name his brother called, Jon grabs the few shopping bags set next to him and stands from the curb, “Alright, Rapunzel, let’s go before Jordan convinces mom to honk the horn.”

Gar should have seen that nickname coming.

Chapter 4: The falls (part 1)

Summary:

Jonathan suggests the friend group go to a swimming hole before fall officially sets in and Gar isn't sure he'll be tagging along

Notes:

I meant for this to be one whole chapter but it's turning out longer than I thought so I split it up
this is part 1 to the Kent-Cushing-Logan day of adventure, next chapter will be part 2

Chapter Text

Farm work.

Moving farm equipment, tossing hay bales, pulling weeds, is all Jonathan’s been doing for a week straight. Getting up at five in the morning and ending at nine for breakfast.

Years ago it would have been Jordan doing all the ‘heavy’ farm work because of his enhanced strength but ever since Jon grew older and beefed up as Jordan jokes, it’s been Jon’s job to carry heavy hay bales among other things. He assumed it was because Jordan had been busy with training so Clark needed Jon to fill in but as of recently he’s starting to think there’s other motives for why his father asked him for help. When the teenager goes to lift a bale he can feel his father watching him. Taking quick glances at him throughout the morning like he’s waiting for something to happen and catch it when it does. Jonathan has an idea of what Clark is looking for, expecting to see. His powerless son to show the possibility of having alien abilities, even if it’s just a glimpse.

He’s not sure if he has powers like his father or will ever have them, the only thing he’s sure of is that his entire body feels like it’s been hit by a truck. Completely exhausted, wanting to do nothing more than recharge and sleep the day away. Every muscle felt like a rubber band being stretched to the max, insanely tense and afraid they were going to tear apart if he moved too fast. He was about to question how his father grew up like this, did this everyday then he remembered and felt a little stupid. If anything, Jonathan’s body feeling like it’s about to break into tiny pieces as if you smashed a mirror only proves he doesn’t have powers.

It’s comfortable in sleep, like being wrapped in a warm blanket that cancels the pain surging through his limbs, making them ache. He doesn’t want to wake up, not yet, because that means his day will start. Get a hot shower, down some painkillers, and go on with today's plans which include Sarah. Jordan’s girlfriend will be arriving in the afternoon and honestly, if he had the choice Jon probably wouldn’t get up. She’s here for Jordan, not him. Someone’s gonna have to drag him off his bed if they want him up because there’s nothing that’ll make him remove his tired ass from this cozy burrito of blankets.

Is what he told himself until a hand carefully shaking his shoulder pulled the blonde teen out of his slumber. Having to investigate who woke him up wasn’t necessary, he knows who it is. Parents are at work and Jordan is gone, picking up Sarah. That only leaves one person left with him in the house and that ‘nothing will make him get out of bed’ is instantly thrown out the window. It never existed.

“I don’t wanna ruin your beauty sleep but your parents wanted us to clean up before Jordan returned with Sarah.”

The teenager groans, grabbing the pillow from under his face and places it over the back of his head, “Rightt..”

“Yeah,” Gar chuckles, “I’m making coffee if you want some to help you wake up.”

Jon has never drank coffee once in his sixteen (going on seventeen) years of living. Has no idea what it tastes like or how you prepare it. Plain water kind of has been his thing for awhile. So he gives his friend a thumbs up on the coffee. Might as well try something new.

When his green haired roommate steps out of their bedroom, Jon rolls off the bed onto his feet with a long groan. Shuffling tiredly across the carpet towards the open doorway, the teenager’s face scrunches in pain as he stretches his arms over his head. He had to have pulled something during yesterday's work because the muscles in his arms felt like they were going to rip apart at any moment. Which can not be good. Jordan’s gonna have to take over for a little while or Jon’s going to end up on a stretcher.

Upon entering the bathroom, Jon sends his reflection in the mirror a glance out of habit. It’s not until he throws his shirt into the corner of the room and goes to start the shower does his brain finally inform him that his reflection wasn’t quite normal.

Stepping back from the tub and returning to the mirror, the blonde teen places his hands over the sink’s porcelain for support and leans forward to inspect his face. Under the teen’s icy blue eyes seemed a little more red than usual. For a quick moment he thought he was bruised but there were no other colors blended like you’d see in a bruise and his face didn’t hurt. Pressing the tip of his index finger against the reddish skin, there wasn’t pain, only a faint heat.

“What the hell..?”

/

Vaulting himself over the stair railing, the teenager lands in the hallway with a loud thump and marches into the kitchen; eyes searching the head of dyed green hair that belonged to his best friend (it was almost out of habit at this point), finding him standing with back against the counter, crossed arms, and watching the coffee brew.

“Is that entertaining or something?” Jon chuckles, taking a seat at the island.

“Not in the slightest,” Gar murmurs, gaze unmoving, “But my dad would do this every time he made coffee. I wanted to see if it did something-” The second teen shakes his head and turns to his friend with a smile, “Besides make me tired, that is.”

The blonde teen pretends to think for a moment, giving his roommate a perplexed look, “I thought coffee was supposed to wake you up?”

Gar scoffs at the joke and steps away to retrieve mugs from the cupboard, “You’re funny, Jon.”

“I am. Glad you noticed.”

With Gar taking care of the coffee situation, Jonathan removes himself from the island seat and begins his task of making them both waffles-- well, putting frozen waffles in the toaster. Making waffles from scratch isn’t on the list of ‘things Jonathan Kent can do’. He’d probably light something on fire by accident or burn himself since getting hurt is the usual for him. There’s a reason Clark and Lois don’t let him light a match without supervision and it had to do with the curtain over the kitchen window. Wherever Jon goes, danger seems to follow.

It’s silent as the boys finish up their breakfast. Jon isn’t used to silence, not when you live in a home with your father, who’s Superman, just as super brother, and very hardworking mother. Someone’s always talking about something and he adds his two-cents wherever he can, but over the few weeks he’s noticed Gar rarely starts conversations. Talking only when spoken to first. Wondering if it’s because of the whole superhero from another earth thing, can’t accidentally give away too much info, or whatever else is going on in his head. There’s still so much unknown about the green haired teenager.

Jon knows the simple things like his full name, personality, favorite and not favorite things, but the complicated things? The things that’d need more explanation? No. Gar’s powers are a mystery, he only knows his friend’s eyes turning green are because of them. His parents and siblings being members of the ‘Titans’ is all he knows about his family. And his childhood? Not one clue. Though he has a suspicion that it was far from a good one just by some of the comments he hears his friend make.

But, to be fair, Gar has all the right to keep his life from his earth a secret if he wants. It’s not like the Kents are being very truthful either. They haven’t exactly told Gar about their lives before he showed up, who they’re related to, or the fact that two people living here have superpowers as well.

Grabbing the finished plate of waffles and standing from his seat, Jon progresses towards the cabinets where the over the counter medicine is stored, dropping his plate in the sink along the way to be washed. The cabinet door squeaks as it opens, the noise amplifying in volume until it becomes a high pitched ringing, making the teen squeeze his eyes shut and cover his ears. A sharp throbbing pain running from his ears into his forehead.

“Jon?” Gar gets from his seat, moving quickly to his friend’s side and places a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah.” Jon breathed once the high pitched noise faded away and pain in his head eased, “Just, uh, I think I overworked myself this week.”

Gar frowns and Jon hates the concern he sees flash in his friend’s brown eyes. Making Gar worried about him is the last thing he wants to do. The green haired teen has enough to worry about, things that keep him awake at night and Jon refuses to be one of the reasons Gar doesn’t sleep; only sits outside on the porch all night.

“You need a break. I can fill in until you rest up. ”

The blonde teen chuckled at his friend’s offer, patting his upper arm, “You’re the guest here. I’m not gonna ask you to do my job.”

“Well, this job is one hay bale away from sending you to the hospital.” Gar frowns, watching Jon step over to the table and swallow a painkiller with a swig of coffee, “And I’m gonna do it whether you want me to or not.” He ends with a grin.

“Can you even lift a hay bale?” Jon smirked from behind the glass mug, leaning back with one hand placed on the table.

Gar folds his arms over his chest, “I have enhanced strength.”

“You do?”

“I mean, not like Superman strength-” The blonde teen presses his lips together in a forced grin at the name drop, averting his gaze to the side, Haha yeah.. Superman.. “-but I can lift a bus.” Gar shrugs as if being able to lift a bus with your bare hands is nothing out of the norm.

Jonathan raises his eyebrows at the claim with a quiet chuckle, causing Gar to narrow his eyes, taking his friend’s disbelief as a challenge. Jon blissfully unaware of his roommate’s competitive nature.

“How heavy are you?” Gar asks, stretching his arms side to side and giving his shoulders a swift loosen.

“I dunno, somewhere in the hundreds. Why?” He stopped caring about counting pounds when his football career ended.

Brows knitted together in confusion when Gar’s brown iris began to glow green and stepped towards him, the teenager’s blue eyes widened and cheeks flushing red as one of Gar’s hands wrapped around his lower back and behind his knees. The teen with green hair lifts Jonathan off his feet without a stumble, easy as if Jon were only a kitten, and holding him in what could be called ‘bridal style’.

“Wow, you’re lighter than I expected you to be.”

The blonde teen flashes his friend a semi-awkward smile, “Is that, like, a good or bad thing?”

Gar shrugs, “Not really either.”

Placing a hand on Gar’s shoulder, gripping it gently in efforts to keep himself supported, “Soo.. I’m not heavy at all?” He questions, eyes glancing swiftly over to the other teen’s biceps exposed by the pale green short sleeved shirt he wore. Okay, maybe he could lift a hay bale– even without powers.

“It’s likee..” Gar mused on the question for a moment, then sent the friend in his arms a smirk, “Holding a chicken.”

Jonathan scoffed at the comment, “Farm jokes already? You’ve only been here a month.”

“Yes, and there’s a lot more where that came from.”

“Oh, god, no.”

With a mini laugh, Gar sets Jon down and pats his shoulder as he begins towards the living room hall, “Be careful washing those dishes, Jon. They might be too heavy for you.”

“Thanks!” Jon grins at the tease and turns around, watching Gar disappear down the hallway, “I’ll make sure I don’t pull a muscle by washing a plate.”


Parked in the gravel driveway, the gold car’s passenger side door opens with a click and a young woman with wavy dark brown hair stepped out, her short sleeved light maroon sweater loosely fit around her figure waving in the late-summer’s breeze, the black tank top worn under visible on her shoulder.

“Is it sad I’m excited to meet him?” The girl questions, waiting for her boyfriend to exit the car.

“No, he’s great.” Jordan assured with a chuckle, climbing out of the driver’s seat, “We haven’t had someone new to hang with since you.”

“It’s nice, ya know.” Appearing at Jordan’s side, Sarah sighs and locks arms with the curly haired teen as they stroll towards the porch together, “After what happened to Jon, he really needed someone.”

Jordan frowns when Sarah’s brown eyes meet his dark blue. There’s a look of relief painted on face as she gazes up at him, but a sadness as well. A sadness he knows all too well, among other emotions. All tied to what had to be the worst months of his life.

The sirens, he could still hear them like the tragedy was only yesterday; not two years ago. The blue and red lights flashing in the darkness of night made his heart skip. Copper - sick smelling copper - hit him first, like a punch to the face. Stomach twisting into knots at the sight of blood splattered onto the asphalt, vomit rising in his throat at the amount soaking the tar. Running over to the closest officer and grabbing onto her sleeves, staring up at the woman with teary eyes wide and begging for an answer as he broke out in cries: “What happened to my brother!”

“It’s just.. I’m glad he has a friend.”

Being brought out of the flashback by Sarah’s voice, the curly haired teen blinks the tears beginning to form in his eyes and sends the girl a genuine smile, “Me too.”

Stepping inside the Kent-Lane home two voices, one familiar and one unfamiliar, rang through the young woman’s ears. Lounging on the living room couch, Jonathan’s blue gaze was burning into the tv screen, focusing on the round of Mario Kart he seemed to be leading instead of noticing Sarah’s appearance in the doorway. Set on the cushion next to Jon’s with legs - still clad in dark green flannel pajama pants - criss-crossed, the teenage boy with messy bright green hair turns his attention to her and hops off the couch.

Moving towards the girl with a smile stretched across his face in greeting, Gar holds his hand out to be shaken, “You must be Sarah!”

Taking the boy’s hand, Sarah returns the smile, “And you must be Garfield. Jordan told me you’re from another earth.”

“Yeah, I guess Smallville is a hot spot for out of earth vacationers.”

Giggling at the joke, she averts her gaze to Jonathan when the teen stands up from the couch and calls her name. Wrapping his arms around his Sarah when Gar steps to the side, pulling his friend into an embrace.

Returning the embrace, she couldn’t help but sigh at the thought of what ifs. What if when she hugged Jon and Jordan the day she moved from Smallville that would be the last time she’d hug one of her closest friends. She wouldn’t have known, couldn’t have prepared. Her heart clenches in her chest at the thought. She should have been here with Jordan when everything happened and hates that she wasn’t.

“I haven’t seen you in awhile, Jon.” Releasing from the hug, she smiles up at her friend, “How are you?”

“Better than I used to be.” The blonde teen shrugged in honesty, then gazed over to Gar with a grin, “I got a roommate now. He keeps things interesting.”

Sarah chuckles, glancing between the two, “I heard you two are quite the pair.”

“Oh god, don’t get them started.” Jordan comments in teasing as he passes behind the group of teens, hauling Sarah’s luggage up to his bedroom.

“So,” The girl folds her arms, “What are the plans for today?”

“The Kents never just sit and relax.” Gar adds in, stepping over to Jonathan and bumping his shoulder into the blonde teen’s, “I know you already have an idea.”

“Oh, I do.”

/

“Bear Creek Falls?” Turning his gaze onto his brother, who’s leaning back against the kitchen counter, Jordan frowns, “That’s almost three hours away, Jon.”

Jonathan tilts his head slightly, “And?”

“I just got done driving four.”

“Okay,” Pushing away from the counter, the blonde twin moves towards the back door where the spare car key is left hanging on one the pairs of hooks in the wall, “I’ll drive.”

“I-” Gar shakes his head, “I’m confused-” Twisting around in his seat and gazing back to Jon, he asks, “What’s Bear Creek Falls? And how can it be a creek but also have falls?”

“It’s like the best swimming hole ever.” Spinning around to face his friend, Jon shrugs, “And good question.. I have no clue why it’s named that.”

“Maybe a lot of bears used the creeks the falls made as their drinking place.” Sarah guessed with a semi-awkward chuckle.

“What made you think of Bear Creek Falls?” Pulling his phone out of his front pocket to observe the time, Jordan exhales and mumbles aloud to himself, “Do we even have enough time?”

“This might be our last warm day until next summer, gotta make the most of it, and-” Jon raises his eyebrows and throws his arms out, one hand gesturing to Gar and the other to Sarah, “They’ve never been there. We gotta take ‘em, and just in case Gar’s family finds him soon.”

“Sounds fun to me.” The girl chimes in.

“Alright,” Jordan sighs, then raises an eyebrow at his twin, who’s twirling the keys around his index finger and looking at Jordan with a dumb smirk on his face, clearly glad everyone agreed with his plan, “But, do you know how to get there? We only went twice and dad drove.”

“I got the directions on my phone.” Jonathan replied quickly and simply.

“Great!” Jordan piped in fake enthusiasm, “I’ll be reading the directions because you suck with them.”

“Pshh” The blonde teen scoffed at his twin’s claim, “I do not.”

“You got lost in a corn maze four years ago and cried.”

A shit-eating grin stretched across the curly haired teen’s face when the smug look on Jon’s face disappeared, being replaced with red cheeks and blue eyes wide; shocked and more than likely upset Jordan would bring such a thing up. Especially around a certain someone in this room.

Garfield glanced between the twins with a smile parting his lips, like he couldn’t believe what Jordan said, “Seriously?”

Sarah scolds her boyfriend but couldn’t hide the hint of humor in her tone, “Don’t be an asshole.”

Face heated up red as a tomato you’d find outside in their father’s garden, Jonathan marched towards the hall leading to the living room and angrily shoved his shoulder into Jordan’s along the way.

“Whatever. Let’s go.”

/

Standing in the opening to the living room, watching the three descend down the stairs and laugh at inside jokes he didn’t quite understand, Gar frowned at the backpacks full of a change of clothes, swimsuits, and sunscreen and bug spray. Jordan even carried a cooler to fill with ice, drinks and snacks when they stop at a nearby Circle K.

Following the friend group when they progressed outside, listening as Jordan suggests they all go on a bike ride together when they return to Smallville and earning two agreements from Sarah and Jonathan. Gar halts at the edge of the porch, allowing his housemates to advance to the red truck parked by the barn without him.

He’d like to join in the activities, it sounds like a blast, but being a part of a group of teenagers (who definitely have more world experience than him) and how to act like one isn’t something he’s ever gotten to do. Training, fighting, and shapeshifting being the only things natural to him. There hasn’t been one day on his earth he got to act or be a normal teenager and do normal teenage things. Sarah’s only here for a few weeks and he’s kind of worried his lack of teenage adventures will ruin the vibes. Asking too many questions, making things awkward when everyone laughs at inside jokes but him, and just being a burden instead of part of the group. It’d be like going on vacation but having to bring a stranger along. It wouldn’t be very fun, would it?

So, he turns on a heel and begins to the front door. Only for his attempts to be put on pause by a question.

“What are you doing?”

Sighing, he doesn’t know why he thought he’d be able to slip back inside without questioning.

“Listen, Jon,” Twisting around to gaze at his closest friend of the group, taking notice of what seemed to be sadness or something in the same family of it in Jonathan’s eyes, along with the clear confusion, “I’m flattered you want me to join you guys but..”

Trailing off for a moment, Gar frowns as Sarah and Jordan’s attention on him becomes hard to ignore. Making him feel like he’s under a spotlight in a crowded auditorium.

“I’m not like you guys. I- I don’t know how to be a teenager, I don’t know how to have fun.” Folding his arms over his chest, the teen drops his gaze to the floorboards. “I just- I don’t wanna ruin it for you.”

After a moment of silence, the blonde teen laughs softly at the statement and Gar lifts his gaze to see Jon stepping closer to the porch and stopping at the bottom stair.

“Dude, I don’t think you could ruin it if you tried.”

Unable to fight the smile tugging at the side of his lips, Gar huffs in humor, “You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do.” Jon matches his half-smile before holding his hand out, an offer for Gar to take and follow them on today’s journey.

Heart beginning to beat a little faster in his chest, Sarah and Jordan standing behind seem to blur out of his vision as it focuses solely on Jonathan and his ice blue eyes glittering in the sunlight.

“You might not have had friends on your earth, but here you do, and they want you to come along. I want you to come along.”

He hates how long it took him to accept the teen’s offer, how his brain yelled at him, told him he’ll make it worse for everyone, but all that matters is that he did despite the deep embedded fears, right?

Being carefully pulled from the porch and down the stairs, the two teenagers stand face to face, hands locked together and unaware of the two other members of the group staring at them in confusion and maybe suspicion on Sarah’s end.

Jon speaks quieter than he probably intended, gaze keeping hold with his friend’s, “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Gar sighs in mock regret, “Why do I listen to you, again?”

“Dunno,” The blonde teen separates their hands and shrugs before continuing back to the truck, “That’s something you gotta ask yourself.”

Preparing to follow Jonathan, Gar pauses and curses when the thought hits him, “Shit! I didn’t pack anything.”

“I gotcha.” Jon replies quickly, pointing to his backpack.

“Yup," He nods, "Of course he does.” Talking aloud to himself, Gar throws his arms out and trails after Jon, “Why do I even ask anymore.”

Chapter 5: The falls (part 2)

Summary:

The friends hanging out at Bear Creek Falls
Jordan and Sarah are romantically standing under water, Jon is scared of slithering noodles with fangs, and Gar is a mixture of enjoying and brooding.

Notes:

*drops chapter down like a large stack of paper* pizza time-- I mean, here's a long-ass chapter of the group just being teenagers or the calm before the storm that'll start with the next chapter.

Chapter Text

It didn’t take Garfield very long to learn life in Smallville is far from San Francisco. There’s no hustle and bustle, no twenty four-seven busy streets full of honking cars and chatting people or skyscrapers and no supervillains trying to kill you. It’s a tiny town out in the middle of nowhere Kansas and frankly, it’s quite relaxing. Waking up for a month straight without a knot created by stress and anxiety in his stomach is a welcome change.

Leaning against the truck’s door, fist balled and pressed into the side of his face for support, Gar’s gaze focused on outside, watching as the foliage sped by with every blink and Sarah’s choice of soft indie music creating a tranquil ambience. Matching the late summer atmosphere of trees slowly beginning to change their colors and earthy but sweet smell traveling into the truck with the breeze it’s attached to from the driver side window being lowered a little.

“So, how do you like it?”

The question breaking trance from the window, Gar twists to the side to look at the young lady sitting across from him. The two not twins occupying the backseats while Jon and Jordan took front.

“Our earth, I mean.”

“It’s great!” The green haired teen pipes, answering honestly, “It’s nothing like my earth.”

Sarah’s smile seemed to be more out of curiosity than happiness as she tilted her head slightly, “And that’s a.. good thing?”

Her comment hits him like an unseen golf ball and he remembers. Jonathan, Jordan, Sarah, they all live this everyday and haven’t stepped one foot onto his earth. Never seen the -what sometimes feels like - permanent gray skies. Symphonies of gunshots and screams of terror and pain repeating in your head, filling your ears, as you lie in bed and burn holes into the ceiling. His earth isn’t like theirs, it’s not colorful and full of smiling neighbors asking you about your day when you walk down to the local grocery store with your friend. It’s dark, it’s gritty, it’s not for the faint of heart. You have to be a special kind of person to survive there. You need powers or at least a billionaire to give you some wicked cool tech to even have a chance of protecting yourself.

“My earth is-” Pausing to think of a correct, non-disturbing answer, Gar bites his lower lip and scratches the side of his face. Couldn’t exactly describe his home with all the horrors he’s been through, still it’s all he can brainstorm for a description, “Exhausting.”

Yeah, let’s go with that for now.

Best not to start off with “On my earth a guy with a red hood tried to kill me” or “I murdered people as a tiger because of an evil man.” Jonathan would probably slam the brakes and the whole day would go from adventure at Bear Creek Falls to a very morbid game of questions and answers with Garfield Logan.

“You were a superhero? The Titans, right?”

“Kinda, I’m too young to be a full time superhero. I was a teen Titan.”

Lips pressing into a smile when the girl chuckles at his reply. Making people laugh had always been something he was good at. Gar goes on, continuing with another story; this time one with a little less bad memories attached and more recent.

“The only thing ‘exhausting’-” The word in air quotes, “-here is how many times I forget the shower works weird.”

Sarah doesn’t question the teen’s reply out loud, only glances at Jordan in shotgun for explanation. The curly haired teen must have had his response prepared once the word ‘shower’ left Gar’s lips because he jumps straight into one.

“You gotta twist the handle all the way to the hot side, leave it there for like fifteen seconds and turn it back to the middle if you want warm water. If you don’t do that, you’ll be scorched.”

“Shitty pipes.” Jonathan adds.

“Ah.”

Chuckling, Jonathan glances back to Gar in the rearview mirror, “Hey Gar, remember the first time you took a shower?”

“How could I forget!” The fabric seat squeaks as Gar leans back and crosses his arms behind his head, “And that burn on my side that took two weeks to go away is your fault. So, just remember that.”

“Wait, how was that my fault?” Jon asked, then nodded to Jordan sitting next to him, “I’m not the only one who lives in the house.”

Jordan shook his head, “Don’t drag me into this.” He says quickly.

Pulling an imaginary contract out his front jeans pocket, Gar pretends to hold the document in front of him and points at the underlined section, “As my roommate you are legally obligated to inform me about what problems the home I’m staying in might or might not have.”

Jonathan laughs at the amusing lengths his friend was taking to prove a point, “I’m your roommate, not a real estate agent!”

Sarah chimes in with a giggle, “You’d be a good real estate agent, Jon.”

Jordan twists around in his seat to look at his girlfriend, smiling with approval and takes a jab at his twin, “Because he has the personality of a game show host!”

Sarah snorts, holding her sweater sleeve over her mouth, “He’ll fall in the pool while showing a home.”

Exploding into loud bursts of laughter, Jordan whips around to sit correctly in his seat, “Boom! Goes the sale!”

Jonathan shook his head, a hint of an amused grin pulling at his lips, “Remember when I said ‘treat me like nothing ever happened’? I take that back.”

Letting the humorous conversion stay between the trio, and it’s not like he has much to add anyway, Gar stays quiet and shifts a little in his seat to get more comfortable, crossing his arms behind his head again as a makeshift pillow. Closing his eyes and taking a breath through his nose, he allows his other enhanced senses to take over. The inside of his ears tingle with a feeling of numbness as he sends his hearing out and all around them, his friends banter and the sound of the truck fading away. There’s a herd of five doe and two fawns a few miles back, they’re all crossing the road; the leader of the herd crossing last. Their cloven hooves connecting with the asphalt clicking in his ears. And a small, truck-stop like diner on their left side over the hills, the sweet but pungent smell of maple syrup pouring over a stack of fluffy, buttery pancakes travels into his nostrils.

Losing track of time while lost in enhanced senses is common for him. It’s like daydreaming, drifting in and out of what’s really going on. But after tons of practice in the tower’s training room, he learned how to easily break out of it and return to what’s in front of him without the senses still lingering on the things around him.

“Should we wake him up or not?”

Jordan’s voice grounded the green haired teen’s hearing, and by how clear his voice was, Gar guessed they had stopped somewhere,

Sarah spoke next, “Probably, we’re only a few miles away.”

There’s power pulsing throughout his body as he opens his eyes, making his veins feel like livewire and limbs ache for wild freedom. Like he could run miles through a field without getting tired. Come to think of it, he hasn’t shapeshifted or rarely used any of his other powers besides senses in a whole month. If that’s a risky move he won’t know, he’s never gone this long without shifting into some kind of animal. Maybe he should go on a walk by himself at some point to explore the town as a cat or dog. No, not a dog. That would draw too much attention, definitely a cat.

Gar shook his head to rid the rest of the remaining power, eyes returning to a sweet tea brown instead of highlighter green. He knows Jonathan noticed the change as he was the only one paying attention since Jordan and Sarah were in a discussion about what food to get. But the blonde teenager said nothing of it and went into a greeting of some sort.

“Afternoon, sunshine.” Jon smiled, then pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, directing Gar’s gaze to the store where they were parked, “We’re shopping at Circle K to get drinks and snacks. You coming along?”

Gar stretches his arms out and gives his shoulders a quick shake, “Yup!” Humming in thought as he un-clicks his seatbelt and moves out of the truck, he murmurs quietly to himself, “I’m really hungry for some reason.”


Further up the path, grouped together and chatting about something he had no knowledge of, Gar trailed behind the trio and observed the foliage surrounding him, gaze taking in the details of the trees and the vines that crawled up them. He always did like being outside. Exploring the woods around the prison, accurately named Doom Manor, had been something he did when he snuck out. It was fun for the few moments he got of freedom before having to return whether it be because he knew Chief would have his head if he found out he left or the police were chasing after him for robbing a place.

Eyes scanning the flowers decorating the sides of the man-made path, he tilts his head when it lands on a bright yellow flower, hidden but sticking out amongst the others, with soft-looking, almost feather-like petals and a frosty blue tip with dull green stem with pinkish colored thorns.

Crouching down to get a better look, he realizes with a half smile of piqued interest that he hasn’t seen a flower like this on his earth. It hadn’t been in any of the books he’s read of the earth’s flora. Which makes some sort of amusing sense to him, nothing this colorful and pretty could exist in his home world.

“And they have fashion and art programs. That might be something you’d be interested in, Jon.” Sarah blinks, confused, when she turns to gaze at Jon -who had been walking on her right side- was gone, “Jon?”

Gar notices movement out of the corner of his eye but keeps his focus on the flower. He knew who it was without having to investigate with his eyes. He could smell him walking closer, scent stronger with every step until eventually crouching down beside him.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.” Jon warned, “They’re highly toxic and I guess makes you see some wild shit.”

“That’s interesting. I don’t have this plant on my earth.” Gar glances over to his friend, eyes sparkling with curiosity, “What’s it called?”

“Some super complicated science-y name I can’t pronounce. Folks here nicknamed it Frostbite because of the toxin on the blue areas of the petals. But the middle yellow part is sweet like fruit, or something like that.”

Gar’s brows pull together in thought as he returns to the flower, focusing on the pink thorns, “So, the thorns aren’t the toxic part?”

“Nope. Weird, right?”

“That makes sense.” Gar lowers to sit on the ground and pulls his recently bought phone out of his front jeans pocket to take a picture; unintentionally switching into what Rachel called ‘National Geographic’ mode, “It’s kind of instinctual knowledge that thorns and other sharp protruding areas mean harm, even animals understand that. So unsuspecting herbivores looking for a meal will avoid the thorns out of instinct and attempt to nibble on the petals instead. It’s protecting the sweet innards with toxins.”

Returning his phone to his pocket and turning his attention back to Jon, he tilts his head slightly when the blonde haired teen stares at him, eyes glittering with wonderment and mouth slightly agape and curved into a smile.

“What?” Gar chuckled.

“I– I just didn’t know you knew so much about plants.”

Gar gets to his feet and shrugs simply, “My parents were scientists, so I learned a few things.”

“Your parents were scientists?” Jon gasps, following his friend, “That’s sick!”

Yeah- sick..

Jonathan bumps his shoulder into Gar’s as he steps by, sending the teen an adventurous look and nods to the side as a gesture to follow, “If you wanna see something else cool, I know a place.”

“Place?” Gar asked in curious suspicion, moving closer to the blonde teen.

“No spoilers, but it’s, like, super pretty.”

The green haired teen gives a smile of agreement, “Alright, show me.”

Jogging past Jordan and Sarah, who’ve been standing and waiting for the other half of the group of four to catch up, Jonathan exclaims that he and Gar will be taking the long way to the falls and that they’ll find them when they get there. The couple watches the duo disappear into the dense foliage, Jon leading their friend to the path hidden away from the main.

Sarah turns to look at her boyfriend and Jordan could see the question on her face clear as glass. Is your brother being an overly nice tour guide or is he flirting?

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Jordan shrugged, then began to continue along the path.

Who his brother might or might not have a crush isn’t a topic Jordan usually involves himself in. Jon’s genuinely a sweet, compassionate person who puts others first, so it’s hard to tell when his sunny, kind hearted demeanor is just Jon being Jon or has romantic undertones.

/

Ventured far from the beaten path where they left the couple, Garfield swears to whatever gods exist in this earth’s universe that he’s never had so much fun. Racing through the woods, sliding under fallen trees, leaping over bushes, avoiding being clotheslined by tree branches He’s chased criminals through the streets of San Francisco alongside real superheroes as fucking tiger of all things, but it didn’t feel like this. Didn’t make his heart pound in his chest like this, make him want to throw his hands out and shout like he was on a roller coaster. There wasn’t just adrenaline pumping through his veins, no. There’s something else, but deciphering it wouldn’t be easy. He hasn’t felt like this before, it’s new and unknown. He had to find the cause first before any emotional decoding could be done. Maybe it was experiencing what it was like to be truly free? No dreading the return to Doom Manor, no Superhero label, he’s being a normal teen and doing normal teen things. Or it could be something else entirely different?

Their race that hadn’t been verbally clarified to be a race abruptly halts at the edge of a wide river. It’s not deep to the point where you’d have to swim to get across, it looks about knee high at some areas, with nature stepping stones that reach the other side. Jonathan suggests Gar watches what stones he uses and how quickly he’s stalling on them if he doesn’t want to get wet. Gar does just that, follows and mimics his friend’s every step until they hopped into dry land and trekked up a hill. An incline covered in stones jutting out and trees Jon said led to the place he was talking about. Now Gar understands why this way is considered the long way.

Like the river, Gar lets Jonathan take the lead to show him the best way to climb up and what he could grab onto if he became unbalanced. He might have known the woods around the manor like the back of his hand, but this is Jon’s territory; not his. He has to know the best routes.

It’s truly breathtaking when he arrives at the top. Trees shades of dying summer and blooming fall scattered around them, adding a splash of color to the tan cliffs surrounding them. Running rivers carving passageways into the cliffs surface, creating the waterfalls and swimming hole below. There’s three falls, smaller ones on the left and right side and one mighty one set in the middle.

Eyes sparkling with awe, Gar takes a step onto the cliff jutting off the hill and moves closer to get a more detailed view, “Oh, my gods..” He breathed.

Jon appears at Gar’s side, “See, told ya it was pretty.”

“I’ve never seen something like this before.” Pulling his gaze away from the landscape to look at his friend for a moment, he smiles and nods slightly to the side at the blonde teenager as a ‘you were right’, then returns his gaze to the falls, “I mean, I’ve seen photos in books, but never in real life.”

Exhaling through his nose, he frowns and eyes darken with sadness and grief for a time passed he couldn’t get back, “I can’t believe I’ve missed things like this for so long. I wasted so much of my life.” -doing stupid things that don’t even make me happy. He could have this on his earth if he really tried. Friendship, adventures that aren’t life threatening. He thought his lack of being able to have a normal teenage life had to do with his powers, but now, it doesn’t seem like it does.

“I know you’ll have to go home at some point,” Turning his attention back to Jon when he speaks, the smile returns to his face as his eyes lock with the other boy’s. A gaze so full of tender emotion and warmth despite the icey color. “But I promise I’ll show you everything beautiful my world has to offer until then. Also-” The teen gently bumps his fist into Gar’s upper arm, “-you’re sixteen, how can you waste your life if it just started?”

“Okay, okay,” Gar laughs and holds his hands up in defeat, “I’ll give you that one.”

Jon exhales through his nose as a soft laugh and begins towards the edge of the cliff, “Are all superheroes brooding or is it just you?”

Gar scoffs in fake offense, then follows after Jon, “I’m far from brooding! That’s Batman you’re thinking of.” And Dick. He’s a close second.

Jonathan pauses at the edge of the cliff, peering down as if he was sizing the drop and Gar stands a few steps behind him, eyeing Jon with eyes narrowed in cautious doubt.

“You aren’t gonna jump, are you?”

Twisting to the side to gaze back to his fretting roommate, Jon smirks and raises his eyebrows, “Oh yeah.”

“What!?” The green haired teen marches over to Jon and pulls him away from the edge by tugging on his arm, “Are you insane? You’ll kill yourself!”

“I’ll be fine, man. I’ve jumped off this cliff before.” Jon assures with a chuckle, unbothered by Gar’s fearful outburst; not a single hint of annoyance in his tone, “Now, if I jumped off those ones-” He points over his shoulder to the surrounding falls, “Yeah, I’d be dead the second I hit the water. But if you’re so worried, you could jump with me?”

“Whoa, nope, nope,” Eyes widening at the suggestion, Gar releases his friend’s arm from his grip and backs away, “I don’t do heights. Let alone jumping off cliffs! Have fun doing that yourself.”

“Alright.” Jon says respectfully and returns to the cliff’s edge, “I’ll meet you down there!”

Relieved and thankful his roommate left it at that instead of trying to persuade him, Gar could feel the fear crawling up his spine as he thought of the drop. Jon can be a tease, who sometimes convinces him to try something he previously said he didn’t want to do. But it’s never in mean spirits or anything of that nature, it’s more he’s sure Gar will like it and Gar might– just might– be a little judgy and stubborn. There’s a big difference between Jon getting him to try his favorite sandwich (which was good) at the diner in town after Gar insisted he’d dislike it because of mayonnaise and jumping off a cliff.

The last time he was talked into doing something he didn’t want to do was at the tower. Jason dared him to climb up the training room’s net wall and after Gar explained he didn’t like heights, Jason teased as some shitty attempt at persuading until he gave in and you know what happened? Exactly what Gar expected to happen. He got to the top, clung to the metal beam holding up the net, had an anxiety attack, and had to be rescued by Dick. Who saved him as you’d picture a fireman would with a cat stuck in a tree. Jason did have to clean the training room for a week after that though, so he got his karma.

“Wait a minute..” Gar murmured, then shifted his gaze around. Suddenly aware of how lost he feels without Jonathan by his side, “How do I get down from here?”

/

Emerging from the tree line, pleased he found his way to the swimming hole without getting lost or having to shift into a bloodhound, Gar progresses towards the small lake’s rocky shore and stands at the edge, just far enough from the water to not get wet. Eyes narrowed in investigation when the lack of Jonathan Kent anywhere in the lake is noticed. “Jon?”

This is the right lake, right? He sends a quick glance around, then eyes land on a stone in the water and not far from it a large tree branch.

Hopping from dry land to a large flat stone, then taking a leap towards the middle of the watering hole where a tree branch stuck in the ground tilting to the side and landing on the surface a little too animalistic than he would have preferred. Confused by his friend’s whereabouts, and making an effort to keep his thoughts away from ‘what ifs’, he takes a sweep around the area; wondering if Jon met up with Jordan and Sarah somewhere. It did take him a few minutes to find his way here.

“Jonathan?”

Coming from behind him is the noise of water’s surface breaking, but before he can investigate, arms wrap around his torso and he gasps, the arms quickly pulling him into the swimming hole with a loud splash. Bursting out of the water with a deep inhale, the chill of the water causing goosebumps on his skin and having a mild coughing fit mixed with some gagging as the water tastes how he guessed a dirty drain pipe would.

Splashing the laughing teenager, who obviously thought his little prank was funny and yeah, it was. Gar couldn’t deny that he would have done the same thing to Jon if the roles were reserved and if his friend knew about his powers he would have grabbed him as an alligator.

“Asshole!” Gar hissed, but with enough humor in his tone to reassure Jonathan he wasn’t upset, “I thought you drowned.”

“Rookie mistake!” Jordan calls with a laugh as he and Sarah appear at the shore, “Never get anywhere near the water if Jon’s in it. He’ll pull you in.”

Pulling himself up onto the nearest flat stone, soaked and dripping with lake water, Gar stays on his hands and knees to shake like an animal would to dry it’s pelt, “So I learned.” He mumbled, taking a seat on the flat surface and wringing pieces of his hair out. Swimming had been in his plans but not this quickly.

“You thought I drowned?” Jonathan echoed quietly to himself, then moved closer to the stone Gar sat on. Crossing his arms on the rough surface for support, the blonde teen gazes up at his friend and smiles, flattered by the concern for his safety, “Aw, you care about me.”

Shifting his gaze to Jon, a smirk pulls at the teenager’s lips and raises an eyebrow slightly. Pressing his palm to the side of the blonde teen’s face, he gives his friend a forceful but careful shove back; pushing him off the stone and back into the water.

/

After thirty minutes or so of swimming around and making up games to play with his group of friends, Gar climbs up onto the stone he resided on earlier and decides it’s time for a break, he’ll sit and watch. As sad sounding as it is, he’s not as energetic as he used to be a year ago, when he was fifteen and still thought being a superhero would be fun and cool. So much has happened since then, but right now it’s not important; not worthy of dwelling. He’s going to sit here and listen to his friends’ laughter.

There’s a sort of joy that bubbles in his chest making a smile of fondness stretch across his face and cause his eyes to glitter as the group of three goof around. Jordan ignores his brother’s protests, insisting he climb onto Jon’s shoulders while Sarah laughs and watches Jordan’s attempts that were not purposely dragging his younger twin (by five minutes according to Lois) underwater.

Eventually, when the boys get too roughhouse-y even for her, Sarah joins him on the ‘i need a break’ stone. He could feel her hazel eyes on him, eyeing and studying with interest, trying to figure him out.

“Tired already?”

Gar huffs as a mini laugh and shrugs his shoulders, “I’m not as peppy as I used to be.”

“Yeah,” Sarah shifts a little, “Me neither. I used to be little miss sunshine-” Leaning back, holding her arms back and pressing her palms against the stone for support, she sighs, “Then I got older, lost the ‘sunshine’, and my parents didn’t know what to do with me.”

“I think that’s what happened to me too.”

The Titans were so familiar with the Gar they met in the backwoods of Ohio, the sparkly eyed kid who wanted nothing more than to be a hero, be a part of a team that they seemed to lose their ability to interact with him when he lost the spark, stopped being the kid from a year ago. If Gar wasn’t cracking jokes or skipping happily around the tower twenty-four-seven, he might as well be considered a stranger because that’s how they all treated him.

Jordan shouts for Sarah to join him in standing under the waterfall and the young woman scoots off the stone, entering the water again and following after her boyfriend. Now that the Kent boys were done trying to strangle each other or whatever they were doing. Wrestling about something. The lake calms and splashing ceases, playful shouting is replaced by the roaring falls dumping thousands of gallons of water onto the cluster of rocks nature set up below.

Free from his twin’s grasp and wading over to his friend’s side, Jonathan crosses his arms over the stone and blinks up at Gar, eyes squinted as an attempt to focus on the green haired teen being framed by the shining sun.

“You okay?” Jon frowns, a worm of concern beginning to drill into his brain.

“Yeah,” He watches his roommate squeeze his eyes shut and give his head a swift shake, then lose the melancholy appearance once he twisted to face him. Brown eyes glittering with humor and half smile pulling at his lips, “I decided to sit and brood.”

A smile curves the blonde teen’s frown, but the hinted concern remains in his gaze. Jon glances over his shoulder, nodding his head towards the shore where Jordan set their cooler of drinks and snacks, “Wanna get something to eat while the lovebirds 'romantically’ get water poured over their heads.”

“You know I can’t say no to food.”

Jon huffs as a mini laugh, “Yeah, I know.”

/

Walking out of the water and onto shore, disregarding the uncomfortable feeling of standing barefoot on pebbles, Jonathan shakes his hair like a wet dog and snatches one of the towels Jordan left in a pile on a rock clean of moss and dirt; ruffling his hair with the towel to dry the soaked mohawk of curls.

“Dude, look what’s beside the cooler!”

By the tone his friend spoke in, you’d think he was pointing out a cute puppy and Jon could say in certainty it wasn’t a cute puppy. Quite the opposite, actually.

Resting alongside the cooler, its orange skin with darker spots sticking out amongst the dull pebbles and curled into a protective ball. The viper’s golden gaze directed at the boys, tiny and thin tongue flickering out of its mouth every few seconds; a silent warning for the teens to stay where they stood.

Making a noise that sounded like a mixture of a gasp and shout, Jon quickly began to back away, “Oh god! That’s a snake!”

He hears Gar’s laughter echo into the air, his roommate obviously getting a burst of amusement watching Jon scurry away like a frightened kitten and hide behind a nearby large rock formation from a reptile not only the size of a vacuum tube but staying perfectly still.

“Yup, it is.” Gar confirms with a playful smirk.

Peeking around the mossy formation, Jon narrows his eyes, “I hate snakes.”

“Hey, don’t be rude.” The green haired teen casts a quick glare to the blonde teen over his shoulder as he progressed to the Copperhead, “He didn’t do anything for you to hate him”

“Whoa, wait, what are you doing?” Jonathan gasped, then leapt out from behind the stony barricade. With speedy but careful steps, he reaches his roommate before he got too close to the viper’s striking range and grabs his upper arm; bringing him back to a safe distance, “Don’t get near that thing! Are you trying to die?”

“I’ll be fine, trust me.”

Heart pounding in his ears, Jon holds his gaze with Gar’s. A gaze shining with reassurance; making the blonde teen’s doubts dwindle. Jon nods, letting go of his friend’s upper arm. If Gar could trust him on the cliff, Jonathan could trust him now.

Still, apprehension made his chest tighten and Jon crossed his arms. Watching Gar casually stroll over to a highly venomous snake like the scaly reptile couldn’t bite him with lethal toxins. Is he secretly a snake whisper or something? Is that his power?

Gar crouched down closer to the snake’s level, “Hey buddy.” He ends the greeting slowly moving hands from his side and reaching out to lift the reptile.

The Copperhead winds back at the gesture, preparing to lunge and strike the perceived threat that just happened to be Jonathan’s best friend. The muscles in the teen’s legs began to twitch, an eclectic but floaty feeling surging throughout, like if he ran now he’d take a lap around the entire world in a flash. But it’s a sense he chalked up to the adrenaline pumping through his veins, ready to jump into action if Gar gets bitten. Your limbs always feel shaky and restless when you’re anxious.

Relief floods the teenager’s mind when the Copperhead relaxes, becoming docile. Jaw untensing, he finally takes a breath. Knot of apprehension in his stomach untangling. Accepting Gar’s offer, the snake allowed the green haired teen to pick it up and - to Jon’s confusion - the viper slithers up and wraps around Gar’s forearm, gazing at the teen like it was a hatchling and he was its parent.

Turning around to face Jon with a proud beam stretched across his face, Gar steps closer to him and holds the Copperhead out a little, “Do you wanna pet him?”

Backing away, Jon sends his friend a forced smile and holds his hands out, waving them side to side as a nice, not verbal way of saying ‘keep that scaly thing away from me’, “Whoa, um, I- I’m good.”

Gar shrugs then moves closer to the tree line; the viper held in his hands lifts its head to be level with the teen’s face and bumps its snout into Gar’s nose. Gar giggled at the motion, “Okay, bud, I can’t have you harming my friends or getting harmed yourself. Let’s take you somewhere more safe.”

Suddenly, caws and tweets sing throughout the sky where a moment ago only the waterfalls were making noise. Lifting his eyes to investigate, a group of birds were gliding to his roommate’s side, a mixture of sparrows and crows landed by Garfield; either on his shoulders or on the branches close by. All attention was on him and Gar didn’t seem to mind the feathery company.

“Wow.” He breathed and took a step closer, eyes sparkling at the sight, “How are you doing that?”

Gar flashes Jon a semi-awkward smile, “That is a complicated answer.” The sparrow resting on the teen’s finger flies away and the others follow after. “But-” He takes a breath, watching the birds return to the sky, “I can understand animals and they can understand me.”

Eyes trailing after Gar as he steps over to the snake-less cooler, Jon asks, “Is that your power? You can talk to animals?”

“Nope!” Gar pipes and Jon frowns. The other teen retrieved two cooled ham and cheese sandwiches and cans of coke, “It’s a side effect of my power.”

Jonathan walks over and takes the sandwich and can of pop the teen hands him. At first he suspected Garfield kept his powers hidden due to not being comfortable around him and his family, scared of what they’d think of them and him. Though as of late, when situations like this happen where he gets glimpses of his roommate’s unspoken metahuman ability, he can’t decide on what to think. Does Gar truly want to keep his power a secret until he’s ready to reveal it or is he purposely teasing him until Jon can figure it out himself. From what he learned about the green haired teen this past month, teasing to that extent doesn’t feel like his thing. The odds are high with the first thought and that’s more than likely what the answer is. But from what he’s learned so far, talking to animals is pretty awesome and if it’s a side effect, branching off from the main power, does that mean it’s in relation to animals?

Mouth curving into a smile, Jon raises an eyebrow and gives his friend a hinted smirk, “And you aren’t gonna tell me your main power, are you?”

The green haired teen laughed and took a seat on top of the cooler, “Oh no, you aren’t ready. You’re gonna have to wait for that one.”

Ready for.. what?


It’s like question and answers but less random and more ‘let me get to know you’. One question per person, all three questions aimed at Gar. To his right Jonathan was laying on his side, head propped up by his fist pressed into his check and elbow angled into the grass for support. Across from him, Sarah was next to Jordan, leaning on her hip with Jordan’s arm over her shoulder.

Jordan already spoke his question and got his answer, now it’s time for Sarah to ask.

“What was it like living with superheroes? Was it like this?”

Gar shook his head, exhaling as a mini laugh, “No, nothing like this.” He admits truthfully, “It’s actually relaxing and fun here. I don’t have to tend to a black eye or busted lip every week.”

Concern flashes in Sarah’s eyes and Gar notices her sharing a quick glance with both Kent brothers before returning to him and asking quietly, “Did they hurt you?”

Suddenly his face paled and couldn’t help but wince at her words, the question causing a flash flood of unpleasant memories. A graying hand tightly wrapped around his throat, forcing him down into a tub of water, and staring up into demonic eyes blacked out and burning of malice and hatred, forever replacing the comfort he got from the man’s brown eyes. A young teenage girl with dark blue hair storming towards him after a mission and glaring with an anger and frustration he’s never seen in her pink blue eyes before. “What the hell is wrong with you? You could’ve stopped him, but no, all you did was roar! That sure scared him, didn’t it. Next time actually do something so the guy doesn’t get away.”. Words that still echo in his brain to this day, dripping with ridicule; insulting him and his abilities. He never got an apology either, he had to do that. He always has to apologize, even if he’s the one trying not to be burned alive or getting punched and stuffed in a car trunk.

Realizing he’s probably stayed quiet just long enough for things to get suspicious, Gar swallows the memories away and answers Sarah’s question in a different way, “The black eye and busted lip are from villains. I’m the..” Gar clears his throat and cheeks heat up light red in embarrassment, “Shortest and most untrained member of the team, so-”

“All the bad guys single you out?” Jordan finishes his answer; tone indicating some kind of understanding.

“Exactly.”

Sarah looks to the blonde teen, “Jonathan, your turn.”

“Okay, umm..” Jon muses, rolling onto his back and staring at the fluffy pink and orange tinted clouds traveling slowly above, “Did you have any pets?” Shifting his gaze up to his roommate, he raises his eyebrows and ends with, “I bet you could train them with ease.”

As Jonathan is the only one here who learned about Gar’s ability to communicate with animals, Sarah and Jordan must be a bit confused at the teasing sound in Jon’s comment. Probably assume they missed something when the group separated and their assumption would be correct.

Gar sighs, “Sadly, no. I’ve always wanted a dog, though.”

“What breed?” Jon probed for a specific answer.

“Doesn’t really matter to me, but merle is my favorite marking pattern.”

The blonde teenager pouts and nods at the reply, averting his gaze elsewhere. But it didn’t matter, Gar could see the gears turning in his head as the teen tried to look casual, he’s making a mental note and Gar knows it. If he’s learned anything about the boy he shares a room with it’s that he’s always thinking about something and that he chews on whatever he can if in deep thought. Bottom lip, shirt collar, pens. Nothing is safe.

The question and answers were supposed to be for Gar, he knows that. He’s the outsider, the superhero from a different earth, the teenager with wild neon green hair. There’s so much they could ask and learn about him, still, even though he’s learned quite a bit about his housemates in a month, there’s one thing Gar’s gotta ask.

Jordan is the king of Mario Kart and Gar hasn’t been able to dethrone him yet, put any meal he can into a burrito form, and loves watching old Disney movies and shows. He’s also a cat person and shows Gar cat videos at least two to three times a day, he’s not complaining though. Who doesn’t like cute cats?

And Jonathan has to be the first and only person Gar has ever seen sleep on their stomach, how is that comfortable? And Jordan wasn’t joking when he warned about Jon’s snoring. His sleeping position has to be the cause of it. When Gar throws a spare pillow at him and shouts quietly for him to roll over, the sounds of strangulation stop if he listens and rolls onto his side. Also, he sometimes takes two showers in one day. One in the morning and the other an hour or two before bed. Yeah, it’s kind of specific and a little overkill, and Gar has no clue why he does it besides the fact that Jonathan cares very much about his appearance. But that’s not what Gar wants an explanation for.

“Alright, now this might be a controversial question but-” Gar gazes down to his roommate and after a heartbeat of hesitation, he asks, “Are you really blonde?” He hears Jordan snort when he finishes.

Jonathan ran a hand through his blonde curls, “To everyone’s confusion, yes.”

Curls that Gar had a hard time not giggling at, Jon always tried to keep his hair tame and styled but after being soaked and air dried by the light breeze, the usual fancy style to his roommate’s hair resembled a puff of cotton candy. Now that he’s thinking about it, Halloween is in a few weeks and dying Jon’s hair blue and pink would be hilarious. Wonder if he could talk Jonathan into it.

“But my folks said I had black hair when I was born.” Jon continues, “They think the sun had something to do with the change.”

“The sun?” Gar echoed, curiosity coloring his tone more than confusion.

Jonathan must have realized what he said once Gar repeated his answer because the teen’s relaxed expression dropped faster than a stone in water and was replaced with a look Gar could describe as being caught saying something he wasn’t supposed to. Before he could press on about this ‘sun’ answer, he’s interrupted by Jordan throwing an empty Sprite bottle at his brother’s face. Jon wincing on contact and shouting at Jordan to cut it out.

“It’s a Kent family joke.” Sarah jumps in for an explanation as the twins begin to throw stuff at each other, “Jon’s hair is so sunny they joke he stayed outside in the sun too long as a kid.”

“Oh, okay.” Gar nodded. If he didn’t get lied to on a daily basis growing up and notice odd things about the Kents already, he might have believed that answer. Gasping when the Sprite bottle is almost sent into him, Gar snaps his attention to the teen with black curly hair with a glare, “Jordan!”

Jordan sends his housemate an apologetic grin, “Sorry, I threw it the wrong way.”

“Are you two ten?” Sarah scolds, glancing between the soon to be seventeen year olds, “Stop throwing stuff.”

“Well, I’m gonna start back to the truck. I don’t want something else thrown at my face.” Gar announces, standing up from the ground with a grunt of soreness from sitting in the same spot for a long period of time.

The sun is setting, the air is beginning to chill, and Gar would rather be at the Kent house, warm and watching tv or playing a game than possibly catch a cold. And he enjoys helping Lois make dinner. He’s her sous-chef and likes being taught different recipes.

“Great idea.” The young woman agrees and trails after the green haired teen.

The two join in conversation no doubt about the boys’ juvenile actions as they progress away from the two boys being spoken about, or could be about something completely unrelated. Jon wouldn’t know, he could hear them speaking but couldn’t distinguish words. Which is strange, they’re not that far away.

Every second that passed his hearing became more fuzzy and crowded, like what a damaged speaker might sound like. There was another voice chiming into the noise, closer and speaking to him, so it had to be Jordan.

“Hey, man, sorry I threw that bottle.” Jordan frowned, “I didn’t mean for it to hit you, I just thought throwing something would get you to stop talking before– ya know.” He ends with a shrug and faint chuckle. When his twin didn’t respond, only stared off into space with a glazed look over his eyes, Jordan tilted his head and poked his brother’s upper arm, “Jon?”

As if he didn’t feel Jordan’s poke, Jonathan slowly got to his feet, thinking maybe some movement would help clear up his hearing. An action quickly proving whatever going on wasn’t normal. The hot pressure he felt behind his eyes earlier returns with a more intense heat this time, like there was a forest fire behind the circle of ice blue. Accompanied by sharp strings of pain radiating through his forehead. The pain affected his vision not too long after appearing. Everything had doubled and slowly started to blur into one huge mass of color.

Stuck with a jolt of fear for his twin’s safety, Jordan jumped to his feet and placed himself in front of his brother. Heart pounding in his chest, the dark haired teen grabs onto Jonathan’s shoulders in an attempt to grab his attention which had been clearly elsewhere. Inspecting his brother’s face for a clue to what was going on and put a stop to it just in case the other members of their group return, wondering what’s taking Jon and Jordan so long. He takes note of the thin line of sweat appearing on Jon’s forehead and strange twinkle in eyes, but it’s the mild red glow under his twin’s eyes that sticks out the most.

Having a strong suspicion of what that red glow meant, he had to check the affected skin for heat before he could conclude that his answer is correct and he’ll have to inform their father right as they return home. Recently Clark told the teen he thought what Jordan was thinking at the moment. The way Jon could hurl hay bales with a little too much ease was enough to make their father raise an eyebrow and brainstorm some theories. That the ‘powerless’ son wasn’t so powerless after all; his powers were blooming at their own speed. However his efforts investigating the red are cut short by Jonathan snapping back to his normal self and the red fading into his skin.

“Wow, that was weird.” Jonathan’s laughter came out sounding more forced than genuine.

Jordan blinked, concerned, and kept his hands gripped firmly on his twin’s shoulders, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, totally..” Jon breathed with a mustered up smile of reassurance, though Jordan didn’t believe it for a second.

Whatever happened to Jonathan wasn’t normal, wasn’t human. Panic and confusion were practically screaming in his twin’s gaze. It’s not a look Jordan wanted to see from Jonathan again, but here they were for the second round. Two years later after round one.

Jon swallowed, then asked quietly, “Could you drive home?”

Jordan nodded, “Of course.”

Looping his arm over Jonathan’s shoulder, Jordan keeps his younger twin close at his side and guides them both along the path back to the truck. Under his arm his brother’s frame began to shake and Jordan tightened the side embrace, remembering a time when his brother shaking like he his blood was made of ice out of fear and foreboding paranoia while Jordan kept his arms wrapped around him in a protective, comforting embrace was the normal.

I gotta tell dad.

Chapter 6: The wolf

Summary:

Gar decides to explore Smallville alone and because he's Gar, it doesn't go well but he has the Kents so it's okay

Notes:

WOOOO welcome to chapter 6! one of my favorites out of the whole au,, I've had this chapter sitting in my brain since last summer, yeah I know-- that's why I was so excited to write it!

and I apologize for this being so late. I hurt my shoulder and the weather is actual shit so that it kept giving me headaches, and it stopped me from writing for a few days ://

but it's here now! hope you enjoy! comments are always welcome and appreciated! I love reading yall's thoughts on the chaos!

Chapter Text

There couldn’t be much worse than having your sleep interrupted by an alarm. Existing silently in peaceful and tranquil slumber, the stresses of the day disappear for a few hours, being cut short. And after years of repeating this same process every weekday, you’d think Jordan would be used to waking up at six twenty by now. Going through his morning routine and heading to school before class begins.

Courteous to not wake Sarah as she didn’t have to go to school anymore, Jordan switches his alarm off before it has the chance to break into his sleeping girlfriend’s dreams and throws his blanket to the side. Grateful his room was warmer than Jon’s when his skin uncovered by clothing is exposed to the air and isn’t instantly stung with a chill. The same couldn’t be said for the hallway, though. Getting up from his makeshift bed on the floor, Jordan yawned and tiredly shuffled towards his bedroom door. Clark and Lois might have agreed to allow Sarah to stay in Jordan’s room during her visit, but sleeping in the same bed? Absolutely not.

Pressing the tips of his fingers over his eyelids, attempting to rub the tiredness out of his eyes, Jordan steps into the bathroom located down the hall from his room and flips the light switch up. A pale but bright glow flickers to life, casting out the dark, and bringing things previously unseen into the light.

“Fu-! Turn the light off!”

Laying in the bathtub, using the ramp-like back as a support to keep himself sitting up, Jonathan -clad in the pajamas he went to bed in- had his legs pulled up halfway and arms crossed over his face, breathing quite heavily through his mouth.

“Jon?!” Every inch of tiredness drained out of the teenager’s body and Jordan sprinted to the tub’s side. Dropping to the floor, Jordan sat on his legs and placed his hands firmly on the tub’s edge. Suddenly wide awake and eyeing his twin for a moment, taking in the state he was in, then went on to observe Jonathan’s clothing and searched the tub for any hint of red stains. Relieved there were no signs of blood or sickness, Jordan returned his focus to his brother with dark blue eyes round, “What- what’s wrong? Why are you in here?”

“My head is killing me, and I mean that, I think it’s trying to kill me.” Jon murmured.

Jordan frowns, “What’s it feel like?”

His heart clenched in his chest when his twin took a breath as he shifted a little, pain making it quick and shallow, “Like my head was smashed with a sledge hammer. I can’t open my eyes because any kind of light makes it worse.”

“Do you feel hot at all?”

“Jordan, I’m not in the mood to play twenty fucking questions, right now.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Taking no offense to Jonathan’s snappy response as now wasn’t the best time to be fishing for power hints, the dark haired teen stands and starts to exit the bathroom, “I’ll get dad.”

Advancing down the hallway to his parents bedroom as quickly and silently as possible, not wanting to wake their sleeping guests. The situation would become more hectic if Garfield and Sarah got involved. He doesn’t want anyone to become panicked and if this does have to do with Jon’s Kryptonian abilities, it’s best to stay between family members.

He informed their father about the strange trance-like state Jon was stuck in yesterday, thinking it might have something to do with powers because of the red under his eyes, and Clark assured that he’d keep a close eye on Jonathan. Watch for certain tip-offs that’ll either point them down the Kryptonian powers road or down another road entirely.

Tip toeing to his father’s side of the bed – cursing silently at every floor creak – Jordan places a hand on Clark’s shoulder and gives it a shake, “Dad.”

The covers rustle not long after Jordan’s efforts, the bed squeaks when Clark wakes and sits up; his father’s eyes give off a faint blue light in the dark. Thankfully their father is not only Superman, but a light sleeper.

“Jordan? Is everything okay?”

Jordan swallows, “Somethings wrong with Jon.”

/

It has to be Jonathan’s long overdo abilities finally surfacing. It’s the explanation that makes the most sense with what clues and evidence he was shown. And of course there's the fact they’re the twin sons of Kal-El. It’s not a large stretch to think powers were the reason for the odd happenings. However there’s always a worm of anxiety trying to eat its way into your brain, bringing in other not so hopeful thoughts, and having to watch your dad carry your brother out to the car because he’s in too much pain to move makes the worm’s job much easier.

Hands rest on Jordan’s shoulders, causing the dark haired teen to avert his gaze from the front door to his mother.

“Your brother’s gonna be okay.” Lois says quietly with a smile tugging at the side of her mouth but Jordan knows it wasn’t genuine, just an effort to make him feel better. Their minds are all in the same place, remembering the same thing.

How long Jordan sat in that hospital chair, staring at the heart monitor, watching the line go up and down. Listening to the beeps everyday like they were a beautiful song, terrified one day the song would end; turn into an ear piercing screech, an alarm signaling death itself, telling it there’s a soul ready to be taken to their final resting place. A flatline.


“Jon?”

Pausing on the last stair, Garfield found his gaze drawn to Jonathan laying on the couch still clothed in the outfit he went to bed in, which is an odd sight to behold. Jon never wears pajamas this late into the day. If he doesn’t have farm work, by nine he’s already looking like he stepped off of a runway; it’s going on ten forty. Set on the coffee table was an open white bottle of painkillers and a half drank water bottle, and Jon had a heating pad pressed against his forehead.

Responding to his name being spoken, Jonathan raises his hand and waves hello.

Gar progresses into the living room, frowning in concern, “What happened?”

Jon exhales a lengthy sigh, allowing the heating pad to fall onto his chest and arm drop to the side, hanging off the couch, “I had a bad headache so I went to the hospital for a bit.”

Taking a seat on the edge of the couch cushion closest to him, Gar eyes his friend for anything out of the normal, like yellowing skin or red eyes. Jonathan looked exhausted, that’s about it. Nothing to raise an alarm.

“Did they figure out what was wrong?”

Jonathan shrugged, “It went away before I got there. They couldn’t find a cause.”

Glancing at the painkillers placed on the coffee table, Gar remembers a certain orange bottle in the kitchen cabinet with Jon’s name written on it and tries to reach a logical conclusion, “Does your medication cause headaches?”

“It used to make my stomach sick when I started taking them, but they haven’t bothered me since.”

Gar frowned for a heartbeat, then sent his friend a caring smile, “You look tired.”

Jonathan must have found his friend’s observation somewhat humorous because it earns a huff of genuine laughter from the blonde teenager and Gar’s smiling lips couldn’t help but part as his heart fluttered in his chest. Glad he could bring a little ray of sunshine to his friend, who definitely could use some.

“Well, I have been awake since four in the morning, so.”

“You need help getting up to your room?” Gar got up from the couch and held a hand out for his roommate to grab if needed, “Sleeping in bed sounds a little better than a couch.”

Jon hums, “Now that you said it,” Slapping his palm into Gar’s and tightening his grip to connect their hands, he pushes up from the couch with a grunt while Gar leans back to pull against the teenager, helping him stand to his feet. “It does.”

And Gar echoes his previous question, watching Jon gather up the mess -if you could call it so- he made.

“Nope. I’m good.” Jon replied honestly and flashed Gar a smile, “Thanks, man.”

Gar nodded then quickly jumps in to interrupt Jon before crouching to grab the heating pad from the floor.

“Hey, I’ll get that.” Jon blinked, confused, when Gar placed his hand on his upper arm and guided him to the stairs, “You need to rest, I can put that stuff away.”

“Okay.” The blonde teenager chuckled but didn’t protest his friend’s way of expressing care and accepts the help he’s offered, “The heating pad belongs in the closet in the bathroom.” Jonathan adds as he disappears up the stairs.

“Got it!”

Crouching near the coffee table where Jon left the heating pad, Gar’s hand freezes still as if an invisible force grabbed his wrist mid-reach. Fear flashes in the teenager’s eyes at the sight of bones under skin separating and rearranging themselves to create something new. Muscles tightened and tore as his fingers curled and shrunk into individual toes of a paw.

Oh, gods..

Attached to the teenager’s wrist where a human hand should’ve been was a green tiger’s paw, flexing its claws and digits curling in and stretching out. Pale skin being corrupted, taken over by the green spreading from his shifted hand to his forearm like wild vines. From deep in his chest an animalistic growl claws its way up his throat and escapes through his lips. Lips hiding teeth growing into yellow tinted fangs and round tips of his ears pointing out. Iris drained of its brown color and pupil shrinking into non-existence, leaving the teenager’s eyes colorless void of humanity and taken over by wild instinct.

/

Arriving home from another riveting day at Smallville High where the food is fake and teenagers even faker, Jordan tosses his backpack onto the first stair step and moves into the living room where Garfield sat on the couch accompanied by a bag of cool ranch doritos and bottle of cherry coke set on the coffee table.

A type of pop his brother hoards all for himself and occasionally shares with Jordan, but he guesses Gar gets roommate privileges. That and they’re not siblings who’ve had to share everything with each other since day one so there’s no ‘I want something all my own’ twin thing going on.

Planting himself in the nearest chair with an exhale, he turns to his housemate and asks about updates on his twin. Wondering if the situation has gotten better, worse, or has it stayed the same. Did the doctor find the cause? What exactly happened? He might save those questions for his parents, though. They’ll know more than Gar.

“He’s fine. I sent him upstairs to get some sleep.” Gar replied more nonchalantly than expected and glanced at the curly haired teen then back to his game of Animal Crossing. Now getting a good look at Gar, Jordan notices how unkempt he looked. Gar isn't anywhere near his brother’s level of primping but he cleans up as much as anyone else in the morning. Dyed hair is a mess, green fluffy and un-brushed. Dark green? circles under his eyes, and speaking of his eyes, there’s an odd glaze clouding them.

He feels a pang of concern for his friend, how drained he looks, but decides to leave it unspoken. It’s not his place to pry into others' business.

“At least he’ll listen to you.”

Maybe he’s worried about Jonathan. Gar’s been on their earth for a month and his brother seems to have made some kind of connection with him. A confusing one at that. He’ll watch Jon purposely walk behind the chair Gar is sitting in at the kitchen table and run his hand through Gar’s hair while making some teasing comment about the color (Gar usually fires back with a tease of his own) but then be a flirty showoff, who climbed a tree to pluck a leaf in mid-turn, green fading into orange, to give to Gar because he heard him say he thought it was pretty.

A vibration in his front pocket alerts Jordan and directs his attention to the text message. On his screen sent in a small gray bubble, Sarah asks if anyone wants to hangout and shop for a few things for tonight’s dinner that Lois asked her to grab while she was out with her. She left earlier to meet up with old friends and will pick up whoever wants to tag along.

“Do you wanna come with me and Sarah? It can be kinda boring here–”

“No!” Gar hissed quickly, causing Jordan to jump in his seat and stare at him like a spooked cat. Face tinted red, embarrassed and apologizing for shouting. He swallows and rephrased his answer, calmer and quieter this time. “I- I mean, I don’t wanna ruin your date.”

“It’s not a date.”

Agreeing to be picked up, he slips his phone back into his pocket and stands from the chair, deeming a brisk shower and change of clothes necessary to be done before Sarah gets here. Casting his housemate another glance before proceeding with his plans, he frowns seeing Gar’s grip on the Switch controller so tight his knuckles were bleaching white and by how set his jaw is, he had to be clenching his teeth.

“Uh, you seem a little tense. Sure you don’t wanna come along and ya know, chill? Jon will be fine.” He tries again, hoping if he reassures Gar about Jonathan - believing his twin’s strange happening this morning is what’s causing the stress - he’d reconsider and come along to relax a bit. The poor guy looks miserable. Something is bothering him, it’s clearer than glass.

“I’m good.” Gar flashes Jordan an obviously fake smile, “Don’t worry about me.” The teenager waved Jordan off with a flap of his hand, “Go have fun.”

Jordan raises an eyebrow at the familiar half-assed attempt. Reminds him of someone else..

“Alright.” Jordan exhales, knowing there wasn’t a point in fishing for the correct answer or convincing Gar to join them.

Whatever is going on behind the scenes, he’ll have to work it out on his own. Jordan offered what he thought could help, there’s nothing more he can do. He’s played this game before, with Jon. Where Jordan circles like a worried animal, asking what’s wrong, and insists he’ll do whatever to help but might as well have been speaking to a brick wall because Jon never gave in, never accepted help. And Gar is the same way. Maybe that is why he and his brother get along so well, they’re the same person.

Snatching his backpack from the first stair on his climb up to his bedroom to unpack homework and grab a fresh pair of clothes, Jordan winces when his palm, running along the stair railing, slides into a sharp groove, tiny splinter like spikes poking into his hand.

Scratched deep into the white wood of the rails were three claw marks, or at least looked like claw marks. By the size they’d have to belong to a tiger or some other wild cat but it was impossible. A less laughable, logical explanation would be the wood cracked in a way resembling claw marks. Almost everything about this house is old, so it wouldn’t be a surprise and more believable than a tiger. There aren’t even any bears or wolves close in proximity, let alone some kind of mountain lion that casually strolled into their home unnoticed.

“Hey, do you know what happened here?”

Jordan averts his gaze to the living room, assuming Gar would have the answer since he and Jonathan have been the only two home all day. But Jordan’s question is never answered. The end couch cushion where Garfield had been sitting on not even two minutes ago is empty, lacking a green haired teenager. Leaning forward against the railing, he searches down the hall into the kitchen for his magically disappearing friend, thinking he left to grab more snacks– without making a sound or Jordan seeing him.

An eerie feeling promptly fills the air when the teenager’s search met an unoccupied kitchen. Jordan calls Gar’s name, presuming he’d get a response if he’s close enough to hear. Silence, again. Pulse picking up in speed, atmosphere going from normal, boring day to full blown horror movie. Jordan shook his head and swiftly carried on with his interrupted plans, mumbling quietly to himself.

“Today is gonna be so weird..”


With Jordan out with Sarah and Jonathan asleep upstairs, Garfield decides to use this free time to his advantage. It’s about time he takes his powers for a walk. They’re starting to get restless, he can feel their effect on him beginning to take hold of his thoughts and actions. That little glitch earlier wasn’t his doing, it was them giving him forewarning. If he doesn’t release them soon, they’ll do it themselves and he couldn’t allow it to happen. He won’t let them get their teeth or claws near anyone in this house.

Which is why he couldn’t join Jordan and Sarah earlier. Disappointed and frustrated with the animals using his body as a rental home, knowing he would have had fun and Jordan had been right, he does need to relax. But this evening wasn’t the right time to ask, he was busy keeping a tiger in line and it put up quite a fight-- He’ll help Clark sand those claw marks out and paint.

Gar needed to leave, but couldn’t go on a walk without permission. Superhero or not, he’s still sixteen.

Getting up from the couch, Gar advances towards the dining room where he could hear Lois and Clark having a discussion. “My father can not visit. It’s not safe for-” is all he heard spoken from Lois before he interrupts by appearing in the doorway, giving the adults an awkward wave of greeting and apology for making them put their conversation on hold.

“Hey, buddy!” Clark smiled, twisting in his seat to face the green haired teen.

Lois turns her focus to him next, sending him a caring look, “Is there something you need?”

“Um,” Gar scratches the side of his face and forces himself not to wince at the growing sharpness of his fingernails, “I was wondering if I could go on a walk. I need some fresh air.” Which is a subtle, less context version of saying I need to use my powers before they use me.

“Of course.” Clark pointed to his wife but kept his gaze on Gar, “Just be back before dinner, Lois is making her famous lasagna. Wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

Gar’s frown curves into a smile and the teen huffs a mini laugh, “And I wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Take your phone too.” Lois adds before Gar exited the doorway.

The teen glances back at Lois and nods as he steps into the living room, “I will.”

/

If Gar could take his phone, he would have. Lying isn’t something he likes to do, especially to people he cares about. He’s got enough guilt on his conscience, best not to add anymore. But Lois and Clark would understand his decision, right? This walk isn’t a casual stroll, it’s a power thing and he couldn’t carry a phone in his mouth the whole time. That’d be a little odd, and draw way too much attention.

Leaving his clothing in a pile hidden away in the Kent’s barn, paired with his phone, a maine coon slips out between the large agape wooden doors. After giving his green striped pelt a quick shake, Gar’s pointy ears flicker at the noises of the nearby town and pointed his gaze in its direction. Across a long stretch of field, he could make out the lights freshly brought to life by the setting sun.

Paws staying still in hesitation, casting a glance over his shoulder to the Kent home and tail tip flickering slowly, Gar wonders if this is a good idea. The Kents aren’t the Titans, they don’t know he can shapeshift; what he really is. What if they try to call him and panic when he doesn’t answer, believing something bad happened. Putting them through that isn’t something he wants to do. Being honest would make everything so much easier if he was open.

The feline’s ears flatten against his head and lowers his head between his shoulders, a thick fog of doubt beginning to cover the honest path. What happens if he’s truthful and they don’t like him anymore? Where does he go? They’re just humans, they can't understand what it’s like. He doesn’t want them to think he’s a freak. And there’s just.. so much to explain.

The town’s light twinkled in the cat’s eyes, making his thoughts abandon the what ifs and return to why he was doing this in the first place: go on a walk so my powers don’t hurt anyone. I’ll be fast, Gar promises his housemates, giving the home one more glance accompanied by a slow blink. Moving his paws from their frozen state, the green cat begins his stride from the front yard to traveling across the cold asphalt road and disappearing into the harvested cornfield on the other side.

The sun has set, blanketing the landscape in darkness and clocking the moon in for the night shift by time he arrives at the town. Though it’s not as late as the starry sky would want you to be. Padding through an alleyway between two stores, Gar halts at the end before stepping paw onto the sidewalk and observes the not-so lively small town. A group of four teenagers, three girls and one boy, were sitting on the curb outside of a (he guessed) a coffee shop, all four having mostly empty clear plastic cups in their hands, and having a loud discussion about a teacher from their high school. Along with other groups and pairs of people going along with their nightly plans.

Trotting down the sidewalk, keeping himself close to stores and buildings verses near the road, Gar blinks up at a building with a large front window. A window with a semi-transparent white text decal reading “Smallville Gazette”.

Isn’t this where Lois works? Gar thought with a whisker twitch. The inside had its lights on, so he decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek since this is where Lois Lane, the world famous journalist works.

Leaping onto the window’s sill, ignoring the sharp nip of the cold brick under his paw pads, the feline takes a seat, curling his feather duster of a tail around his front paws and peers inside. At a desk sat a young woman, dark brown hair styled into a short bob, and clad in a black shirt with a dull pink sweater buttoned over it. The woman’s attention shifts from her laptop’s screen, staring at the large fluffy cat sitting in her window as if she didn’t know how to respond to his appearance. Eventually she waves at what he knows she assumes is a regular cat and Gar meows at her greeting, then hops back down to the sidewalk; continuing his evening stroll.


The sweet scent of marinara sauce blending in with four flavors of cheeses brings back old memories of the nights he’d be sitting on the kitchen counter watching his parents prepare dinner until his father, Jonathan Kent Senior, would teasingly scold him for sitting around and watching instead of helping his poor mother. Martha was always quick to retort against the comment, insisting “this poor mother” didn’t need help. But Clark would help anyway. Mashing potatoes, chopping vegetables, washing dishes, and setting the table were only a few things done in twelve year old Clark’s dinner routines. Routines lovingly passed on to Jonathan and Jordan.

Walking downstairs from checking on Jonathan, who thankfully stayed in peaceful state of deep slumber as Clark made sure his son had no signs of oncoming illness, Clark’s stride pauses and lingers in the kitchen doorway. Sitting at the island, Lois was leaning forward against the wooden top, using her elbows as support and pressing her faces into her palms. Her long brunette hair released from the ponytail it had been earlier and waterfalling onto and over her shoulders.

Frowning, Clark advances closer and stands behind his wife, beginning to give her shoulders a non-super strength rub, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just-” Lois sighs, straightening in her seat and leaning into her husband’s massage, “Between Jonathan’s mystery headache and my dad insisting he visit–”

“Hey, hey, hey, Jonathan is gonna be fine. I just checked on him; he doesn’t have a fever.” Hoping his words would sooth his wife’s fears, Clark offers a logical explanation to their son’s earlier state, “I think he might have strained himself over the week. He’s been overworking.”

“But what happens if it’s not overworking, Clark!” Clark flinched back when Lois swiftly spun in her seat and stared up at him with dark blue eyes round, “What if he’s manifesting powers and the next time we take him to the hospital, they notice something odd about him.”

“Like what?”

Lois scoffs at the question like she could believe Clark asked, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe his body absorbing the sun coming in through the window like a plant!”

Clark frowns but couldn’t help finding his wife’s comparison of Kryptontians to plants a bit amusing. He never thought about it before. With a sigh, Lois gets up from her seat and steps towards Clark, making the man open his arms for the oncoming hug. They’ve danced this dance before. They do it quite often.

Wrapping her arms around her husband, Lois pulls Clark close and rests the side of her face against his shoulder, “When the boys were born I remember how glad you were that they weren’t floating out of their cribs and breaking their toys in half by accident.” She spoke quietly, tone soft with fondness and a hint of longingness for simple days.

“I wanted them to be normal, have normal lives.” It was hopeless to wish such a thing, Clark knew that the second the twins were born. They changed so quickly, one brother more literally than the other. Jor-El warned the sun might have weird effects on the boys when they were little because of their limiting human heritage mixing with their adapting alien heritage; causing an unstable balance of genes that could be altered by the yellow sun's rays. It’s confusing and doesn’t really make sense, Clark admits, but his sons are the first and only Kryptonian hybrids. They were bound to have oddities not even Clark wouldn’t understand.

Jonathan used to look so much like his twin brother when they were little that he and Lois thought they might be identical until -dawning on boys’ first birthday- Clark had been spending time with Jordan and he heard Lois shouting his name from outside, sounding panicked. With Jordan in his arms, he rushed onto the back porch where Lois was holding Jonathan and pointed out the target of concern and confusion to her husband, though Clark would have noticed it even without the pointing. It was obvious, curly and bright, a honey blonde color instead of black. “Can the sun change hair color?”.

You can see why they thought Jonathan would be the twin who got powers.

Lois frowned, “There’s no way they could be normal, powers or no powers. Their father is-”

“An alien, I’m aware.” Clark smiled, finishing his wife’s sentence. The grin dropped not long after it appeared and Clark went on, “Jordan did tell me something yesterday, though. About Jon and powers. Amongst other things..”

Lois leaned back but kept her arms around Clark, gazing at him with that famous curiosity sparkling in her eyes, “What’d he tell you?”

“He thought Jon was exhibiting signs of powers, and from what he told me, maybe? But I’d have to see for myself.” Jordan explaining the red under Jonathan’s eyes rang a few familiar bells. However there were other explanations, like irritation and bacteria in the water. He’s not going to jump to any conclusions just yet.

“Is that all he said?” Lois probed for more information. Classic Lois Lane move.

“No, he went on to tell me he also thinks Jon has a crush on Gar.”

“What?!” Lois exclaims, releasing from their embrace.

“Honey, listen-” Clark tries to chime in but Lois continues and steps away.

“Then we’re finding a new place for Gar to sleep.”

“Now, we can’t take what Jordan thinks as fact.” Clark crossed his arms, watching his wife storm over to the oven, snatching the wooden spoon from the counter and began to aggressively tend to the pot of mashed potatoes on the front burner, “Let’s not rearrange the house because of something Jordan might be taking out of context. They’re just good friends and Jonathan likes having a roommate. It’s helping both of them.”

“Exactly!” Lois shouts, obviously ignoring the last part of Clark’s statement, “And I’m not waiting until their friendship goes from tier one to tier fifteen to do something about it.”

“Lois.” Clark sighed, arms dropping and hanging at his side. Believing his wife was being a tad over dramatic to information that Jordan thought might be true. Jonathan never spoke to his twin (or anyone) about the topic, which means there’s no proof to confirm Jordan’s claim and they couldn’t treat it as if there was. “Come on, you know Jonathan isn’t like that.”

“He’s going to be seventeen, Clark.” Lois protests, “All seventeen year old boys think the same thing.”

He’s not a normal seventeen year old. Clark kept the comment to himself, well knowing it wouldn’t help the situation.

The man tilts his head slightly, “I didn’t?”

“You were training at the fortress then.” Lois mumbled.

Good point.

Taking a breath, Clark steps closer to his wife and stands behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders once again, “Alright, alright, let me talk to Jonathan first before we do anything; get his side of the story.”

He's not admitting defeat but will meet Lois at a middle ground, find a compromise. It wouldn’t be fair to separate the two if there truly weren't any feelings being felt and even if there was, he doesn’t see it as much of a big deal as his wife. Strict rules would be put in place if the two ever dated, like they were with Jordan, and that’ll be it. And Clark’s more than sure there’s no place to move Gar besides the couch, but he’s not subjecting the teenager to a life of sleeping downstairs; away from the family. Treating Garfield like an outsider is the last thing Clark wanted to do, he knows what it’s like, and afraid pulling a move like separating him and Jon after a month and asking him to sleep on the couch would do just that, even if not intentionally.

“Fine.” Her tone is clear, she wasn’t thrilled to be compromising with Clark’s plan, but didn’t argue with him about it either. Turning around, Lois gazes up to her husband with playfulness glittering in her eyes, “Make sure you scare him, gross him out.”

Clark laughs, “I’m not gonna traumatize him, just be honest..” He paused, brows knitting together in thought, “-Which might actually gross him out.”

Lois taps the mashed potato covered spoon against Clark’s nose, “That’s the plan.”


Sprinting along the roadside, claws clicking against the rough and worn asphalt like a pair of tap shoes, a wolf with dark green fur kept his head down and ears flattened. Deciding an animal much larger and faster with better stamina than a cat would be a better choice to return the Kents. As long as he stays on the backroads and out of human sight to avoid any panic. There were no more wild wolves in Kansas and someone spotting him might cause an all out hunt for a wolf that’s not really a wolf.

Gar lifted his head as pointy ears perked, there’s a sound echoing through the air. A familiar noise of an engine, accompanied by tires spinning atop the hardened tar. Further up the road, headlights pierce the dark vile of night. A truck bounded a sharp turn up ahead; It’s bright yellow lights shining and growing closer with every second that passed.

Mouth falling agape, Garfield begins to back up. The oncoming beams threaten to put him in the spotlight and it’s the last thing Gar wanted. Knowing there wasn’t enough time to shift into a common animal, the wolf quickly snaps his head left to right in a hurried attempt to search his surroundings for an escape route. To his left is a guardrail set up to protect cars from driving over the incline’s edge and to his right is a large yard guarded by a barbed wire fence a easy to jump over. Since he’s trying to get back to the farm house and not roll uncontrollably down a hill, probably being injured in the process, Gar takes his chances to the right.

Back legs vaulting the large carnivore up and over the fence, he didn’t have a moment to spend catching a breath or two when his pads touched the earth. Speeding through the yard, Gar casts a glance behind him, watching the distance between him and the road growing longer and feels relief bloom in his chest. Far enough into the yard to be hidden in the cover of night, where the truck’s lights couldn’t reach, the wolf slows to a trot and eventually stops to watch the headlights no bigger than a flashlight now pass by. It’s driver blissfully unaware of his presence.

And it was the only thing unaware of his presence. There’s a click and Gar is struck with a beam of light, making him go still and stare panicked and dumbfounded at the back porch previously unseen. Stuck in the flood light’s motion activated rays as if his paws were inches deep in quicksand, it wasn’t until his gaze caught movement did the wolf’s trace break and met two german shepherds advancing from their spots on the porch to him. Their teeth bared and lips raised in a snarl, ears flat against their skulls and brown eyes narrowed in protective rage. Perceiving Garfield as a threat. A threat they were going to eliminate with every step closer.

There was no clear escape route this time. Pick a direction and run. Run as fast as you can or be torn apart because Gar doesn’t fight animals even if he’s shifted. He’ll punch an asshole in the face with a force of super strength but won’t dare cause any harm to any living creature.

Yelping when one german shepherd ends his sprint by ramming the top of its head into his side, knocking Gar off balance and into the ground with a heavy thump. The other canine barked frantically to draw attention until the wolf tried to get to his paws and it sent its teeth into his scruff, pulling him back to the ground, making the carnivore screech and whip his head back to snap his jaws at the dog, hoping his fake threat would work.

It didn’t.

The second german shepherd began to tug at the back of his neck like it was a hungry hyena trying to tear off a piece of meat. The first shepherd obviously didn’t take kindly to the wolf snapping at its partner because it stopped barking and circling to snap at him and not in fake warning like his had been. The scent of copper floods his senses as a cut is created over his nose. The blood drawn from the wound dripped down his face, staining and clumping the green fur it leaked through.

Suddenly a woman’s shouting comes from the direction of the back porch, “What do the boys have!”

“My lord, is that a wolf?!” A man chimes in next, tone sounding more of disbelief than panicked as the woman’s was.

When the first dog digs its fangs into his front leg and the second begins to scratch up his back, Garfield’s moral code is no more because what broke from its restraints, clawing out from the cage it's so often locked in, had no code. No sense of right and wrong. Acting purely out of animalistic instinct. The wolf manages a deep inhale and the chaos surrounding it slows in motion, it’s pupil shrinking then dilating as the ring of green fades and the tiny dot of black follows, being overtaken by a glow of clouded white.

Bones cracked and rearranged, muscles stretched to their limit and body began to twist in abnormal ways, shifting into a new shape. The shepherds’ assault eased then ceased as their target began to grow in size. Exhaling a wheezy grunt, the new form lifts it’s bloodied body to it’s paws and head snaps into the correct position with a crack and crooked bottom jaw sets in place. The shepherds’ whimper, tails between their legs and back away from the monster-sized wolf staring at the pair with a gaze foggy and void of any emotion.

A beast. Living, breathing apex predator ripped straight from the prehistoric era. A giant, standing tall on it’s four powerful legs. A creature that isn't supposed to be here, walking our earth, thought to be lost to time. Extinct for thousands of years. Dense fur with a tough undercoat colored dark pine green stood over the dogs like a mighty king gazing down on it’s subjects.

The dire wolf’s lips raised into a snarl, challenging the canines to tear it down now. Test their skills, put their paws in the hands of fate and see what happens when it’s their pelts being torn. It huffs a noise of approval when the shepherds lower their heads, surrendering and bowing to the beast standing in front of them.

Ears perk at a woman’s horrified scream and it’s attention shifts to the porch, making out two heat signatures much taller than the dogs. One was halfway into their den while the other stood, holding something tightly in it’s hand. The object gave off a strong, odd metal scent and made the dire wolf’s nose crinkle in disgust. Glaring at the creatures it deemed as danger, it sends the pair a warning snarl to head into their den, but they refused to obey it’s order. So the dire wolf lunged, ghostly gaze locked on the closest signature and dropped it’s jaw to produce a bone chilling roar as it bared it’s fangs, preparing to be sunk into the carnivore’s prey.

The haunting sound of the prehistoric beast’s roar being cut short by another.

A quick boom.

Then there’s an intense pain piercing the dire wolf’s shoulder, causing the beast to stumble over in it’s path and emit a harsh yowl. Pushing itself up to lay on it’s belly, paws shaking and chest heaving heavy breaths. Squeezing it’s white eyes shut, the dire wolf’s rapid breaths calm and become one long exhale. Instincts, corrupting and always begging for bloody violence, release their hold and slither to the dark areas of the teenager’s mind where they came. Being caged once more, allowing the reins to be taken by someone else. They had their fun, caused the chaos they so deeply crave but their cravings are never satisfied. They’ll surface again, always lurking in the shadows of his brain. The feral hunger for flesh between their teeth and blood soaking their tongue will never go away.

Eyes blink open to show a black pupil set in the middle of a circle of neon green and the reins are taken under control by Beast Boy once again. Why when the sound of the gun cocking echoes in his ears, Gar doesn’t stick around to attack the man in hopes of defense as the wild would have him do. An action like that would lead to a shot to the head and he’s not stupid enough to take a risk.

Gar leapt to his paws as the second bullet was fired, missing it by inches, and sped through the remaining stretch of yard, thankful the man didn’t take a third shot. Vaulting over the barbed fence and landing in a patch of woods with a yelp from a jolt of pain striking his shoulder but kept his stride unbroken and fast until he reached the other side where he found himself in the middle of another road.Panting, he pauses for a moment to take a detailed sweep of his surroundings, hoping to catch sight or scent of something familiar. Up the road and across a field, his gaze finds a farmhouse partnered with a barn and races in its direction.


Trash night is one of the days when Jordan is truly thankful for super strength. No more hauling a bag one at a time to the large trash can set at the edge of the driveway. It can be a one trip job now.

Carefully sliding a bag off his shoulder onto the ground, he uses his free hand to lift the can’s lid and flings the bag still being carried into the can’s metaphorical mouth, feeding it a bag of weekend’s worth of garbage. Grabbing the second bag, he repeats the process but pauses before his hand touches the lid hanging behind the can it’s attached to.

The sound of running is what reaches him first. In a hurry, trying to arrive at its destination fast. Heavy and large. What was left in the cornfield didn’t stand a chance against its mass and sheer force. Short, harvested corn stalks being broken like they were nothing but a thin twig.

It’s not a person, his hearing able to distinguish the four legs propelling the creature along. It’s some kind of animal.

Sight came second. A shape encased in darkness and rivaling a cow in size charged through the field. The huge animal’s bushy tail and pointed ears became apparent as it ran across the road. It casts Jordan a glance - glowing bright green - in passing before disappearing into the family barn.

Terror in its purest form pumps violently through the teenager’s veins as he ran to the safety of his home in a burst of super speed, his father’s rule of no use of abilities outside of training understandably slipping his mind. The front door flings open and the curly haired teen hurries into the kitchen where the image of your average domestic family was about to be put to an abrupt end and their alien reality will take its place.

“Jordan?” Sarah questions when her boyfriend stormed in, taking heavy breaths and gaze - stretched wide in fear - points at his father.

“There-” Jordan breathes, “There’s something outside! It looked like a wolf but huge!”

Clark shares an apprehensive but curious glance with Lois. When she nods to the side, giving her husband the green light to investigate, Clark abandons her side and marches towards Jordan. “Did you see where it went?”

“In the barn!” Jordan shouts.

“Grab a flashlight and follow me.”

Jordan nods at the command and Sarah frowns, watching Jordan retrieve a flashlight from the island drawer and trail after his father.

“Be careful!”

Upon opening the barn doors, the Kryptonian is greeted with the metallic stench of blood drifting into his nostrils and his face scrunches in reaction. In a whisper he orders Jordan to stay behind him, then takes a cautious step inside. Hearing on high alert for the tiniest squeak and eyes searching, taking note of every detail visible. Anything different, anything out of place. Out of correct order. The doors at the opposite end were agape, he noted, wide enough for a human to slip through and moonlight to bleed in but not a cow sized wolf.

Determining after a couple of sweeps that not a single bale or piece of equipment had been touched and a giant wolf didn’t hide amongst them, Clark allows his son to enter and signals to search the surrounding area for what’s causing the air to fill with the scent of blood with the light’s beam. Hoping the wild canine hasn’t drug a carcass inside to store for a midnight snack.

An audible gasp sounds from Jordan once the flashlight finds a spotty trail of glistening red coating the hay covered floorboards leading to and out the second pair of doors from an area thicker with blood under the hayloft across from where they stood.

“Oh, my god..” Jordan breathed, then lifted his hand to cover his mouth.

Commanding Jordan to stay put, Clark progresses towards the bloody area under the loft for a more in depth investigation and kneels to get a closer look. He dips the tips of his fingers into the still warm crimson and allows his super scent to do the rest. Choice of action earning a gag of disgust from Jordan.

It’s fresh, very fresh. Spilling a few minutes ago, before he and Jordan had entered the barn. They just missed it, which means it might still be close. But it’s not the time frame that made the hero nicknamed Man of Steel uneasy, causing anxiety to climb up his spine to affect his brain and heart drop into his stomach.

The blood.. It wasn’t from an animal.

Blood dripped excessively onto the wooden staircase as the teenager lumbered slowly onto the back porch, dragging his feet and hand drifting away from the railing to hang at his side. An exhausted groan slips through the teen’s lips and he drops to his knees, allowing his body to fall forward and collide with the boards below, producing an audible thump when it does so.

Every scratch, cut, and bite stung and itched like swarms of fire ants were attacking his skin. There was pain, he could feel it waiting creeping closer with every breath he breathed to calm his racing heart. High adrenaline is keeping it at bay, but once it wears off, pain is all he’s going to feel.

Rolling onto his back with a shaky but sturdy push, Gar bites the inside of his cheek, whimpering as a strong jolt of pain emits from his wounded shoulder, however felt a faint sense of comforting relief staring at the warm porch light glowing above. He made it back to the Kent home. Tore up, bloody and shot but still made it. It’s half of a win as far as Gar is concerned.

Spotty darkness crept around the corners of his eyes, the light hanging from the porch’s ceiling becoming hazy and Gar shifts his gaze to his forearm to assess the damage. Thick streaming of red collects into a puddle and drips through the cracks in the wooden planks under the chunk bit out of his arm.

Lifting his thankfully unharmed hand to wipe the bottom of his palm along the scratch traveling from the bridge of his nose to under his eye, he inspects the smeared blood, glad to see a minimal amount; not as serious as he thought it would be. The bullet buried in his muscle, soaking his shirt sleeve dark red, on the other hand, and massacre done to his back almost makes him grateful to be a metahuman with the ability to heal like a video game character. Almost.

From the doorway behind him a horrified gasp breaks the silence and a blurry frame hurries into view. Dropping to their knees and craning their neck forward to -he guesses- eye the visible wounds, then hears her scream for help, calling Clark.

Sarah? Recognizing the young woman’s voice and chestnut hair, wavy and up in a loose ponytail.

Another sound rang in his ears immediately after Sarah’s cry, one he’s never heard before, so it was hard to describe. What a violent gust of wind sounds like, but not quite the same and much louder. Before the noise faded away, two others appeared in view and stood over him.

“Gar!”

Jordan shouted while Clark stayed silent. Kneeling, he carefully slides one hand under the crooks of Gar’s legs and the other under his shoulder blade, lifting the teenage boy with ease and holding him tightly as he rushes inside through the backdoor, Jordan and Sarah trailing close behind.

“You’re gonna be okay, buddy.”

He hears Clark’s words of comfort and Gar appreciates it, but couldn’t wrap his brain around one thing: how did Clark and Jordan get here so fast?

/

Garfield swears he had been sitting on the bathroom floor for what felt like hours while Clark did everything he could to clean, stitch, and patch every wound he gathered. Clark assured it hadn’t been more than forty minutes and Gar thought it sounded impossible for how fucked up he is, but slipping in and out of consciousness might have warped his correct sense of time. He’s been fully aware for about fifteen minutes according to Clark. It checks out. Whenever Jordan came in with a glass of water and two painkillers for Gar to take is the moment he started to remember and he’s been wide awake since.

Painkillers kicking in and trip to the at-home hospital finished, Gar moved to from the floor to sit on the edge of the tub while Clark began to clean up. He offered to help clean the mess he created and Clark told him to stay where he sat, but thanked him accompanied by a warm smile. Jordan helped his father for a few minutes, wringing used wash clothes into the sink, Gar counting how many times he watched red tinted water be twisted out of the rags. Feeling a twinge shame at the sixth wring and averts his gaze to the stitches in his forearm and up to the bandage wrapped around and covering a large cotton patch dressing the gunshot. Areas of his back were coated in gauze and sizable bite mark low on his neck treated with a cotton pad as well.

Eventually Jordan slips out and Gar’s heart tightens with dread when he hears the teenager enter the bedroom at the end of the hall. Oh gods, Jon.. Seeing the panicked, fretting look – he caused – on his friend’s face is going to send a sledgehammer into his heart and a strong pang of guilt metaphorically kicks Gar in the gut, then he feels just as shittly emotionally as he does physically.

“You don’t have to tell me what your powers are.” Gar blinked up to Clark when he began to speak, filing his previous thoughts to the back of his head, “I understand and respect your decision of keeping them a secret until you’re ready. But-” The dark haired man takes a seat on the tub’s edge and Gar scoots to the side to give Clark more room, “I know what really happened tonight wasn’t what you told us downstairs.”

He huffs as a mini laugh, then asks with a half smile, “Did the bullet give it away?”

Clark nodded to the side in agreement, “Little bit, yeah.”

Gar’s smile disappears as quickly as it appeared and drops his gaze to his hands resting on his lap, “I’m so sorry, Clark. What happened was my fault. My powers-” The shepherds’ jaws drooling as they barked and snapped at his face flashed in his mind, the pain of their fangs tearing his pelt, and the intense feral urges that overpowered his brain and took over his body, “I think I’m the only one with abilities like mine on my earth and it makes everything–”

“Confusing. Overwhelming. Kind of stressful?”

Words piquing his interest, Gar snapped his head to the side and stared up at Clark, eyes wide as an owl’s. “Do you have powers?”

The man shifts a little at the question, then averts his gaze from Gar to the far wall. Ocean blue eyes clouded with deep thought as he stared at the very dated farm themed trim circling the top of the bathroom wall. “My friend has powers, actually. He tells me about them, what it’s like.”

Gar frowns when Clark’s gaze lands on him again. There’s a sad understanding in his eyes. “How sometimes they feel more like a burden, one that’s hard to carry. How they can make a person feel like–”

“A freak?” He fills in the blank, humor sprinkled in his tone.

Clark laughs softly and shrugs, “Not what I was going to say, but sure.” With a light grunt, he stood up from the tub side and held a hand out for Gar to grab, “Now, if you’re feeling alright. There’s still a plate set on the table waiting for you.”

Right, lasagna! Gar connected his hand with Clark’s and hopped up to his feet, suddenly aware of how hungry he was and the delicious aroma drifting into his nose, making his stomach growl.

Thumping, quick and panicked, echoed through the hall; intention on eating dinner being delayed a tab bit longer. Clark’s brows pull together as he twists to observe who appears in the open doorway and Gar mimics, wondering if Clark thought the same thing as him.

Stepping into the bathroom’s doorway, clothes he’s been in all day wrinkled from tossing and turning and blonde curls a mess with bedhead. Jon’s icy gaze round, focusing on Gar, and eyeing each bandage stuck on his friend’s body as if Clark hadn’t been in the room to answer the question clear in his eyes, and the guilt Gar experienced a few minutes earlier returned even stronger.

Jon’s gaze tears away from Gar to his father and he asks, “What happened?”

“Uh,” Clark glances down to Gar then back to his son. He shoves his hands into his front pockets and shrugs, “That’s for Gar to answer.”

Flashing his roommate an awkward grin, the green haired teen steps closer to his friend and rests a hand on his upper arm, “I’ll, uh, explain after dinner, okay?”

Gar could see Jonathan’s gaze darken at the assurance but nods slowly, respecting his decision.

“Okay.” Jon’s frown curves into a smile moments later and a sparkle of playfulness lightens the darkness, “See, this is why I said I don’t trust you alone.”

Gar scoffed at the tease but took no offense, then lifted his bandaged forearm into Jon’s view and chuckled, “Obviously, I’m fine on my own.” Shouldering past Jonathan to exit the bathroom and progress down the hallway, he adds, “I don’t need a fancily dressed bodyguard with poofy hair.”

Jon shook his head then followed, “I’m starting to think you do.”

Clark stood in the doorway, folding his arms and leaning against the white chipped frame. A smile of fondness crept onto his lips as he listens to Garfield and Jonathan continue to tease each other on their way to the kitchen. Gar joking how could Jon be a bodyguard when he’s scared of snakes and Jon arguing that bodyguards don’t fight poisonous reptiles with sharp teeth.

A certain feeling of joy mixed with relief bubbled up in the Kryptonian’s chest and the fear that once caused many sleepless nights melted away into a distant memory. His son had been getting better every month, slowly and steadily returning to his old self. The light Jonathan has had since he was born, glowing bright and beautiful, shattered so heartlessly by the others around him because they didn’t understand- or maybe they didn’t want to understand - beginning to glow again, like a ray of warm sunshine.

Movement out of the corner of his eye brought Clark back to the present. Jordan appears at his side, huddling close and asks barely above a whisper: “Are you gonna tell him? About our secret?”

Clark frowns, “What’s the rule about eavesdropping?”

“Only do it when it’s important?” Jordan sent his father an awkward smile that quickly dropped when Clark hardened his expression and the teenager sighs, “Don’t do it at all.”

“Right.”

Silent seconds go by without a word spoken from either boy until Clark could feel his son’s gaze lingering on him and asks what was wrong. The curly haired teen’s dark blue eyes are narrowed in question, expression becoming a carbon copy of his mother’s. The face she makes when trying to fish information out of someone and Clark suddenly feels like he’s being interrogated.

“So, are you?”


Garfield has done some dumb things today but deciding against taking the pain medicine Lois offered him before bed might take the number one spot. It’s two am, it’s cold, he should be asleep and cozy, wrapped warmly in his bed covers right now, dreaming about roaring tigers and a boy with cotton candy hair. Instead, he’s sitting - wide awake - in his bed, ripped out of his slumber by an aching pain from his wounded shoulder and radiating throughout his arm.

Wincing at the bag of frozen peas being pressed against the wounded area, Gar bites his bottom lip as the pressure causes another jolt of pain to run down his arm.

“Ow.”

“Sorry.” Jonathan frowned, releasing some of the pressure. He takes a breath and sends the green haired teen a sympathetic smile, “Man, you’re gonna be sore for a while.”

“I’ll be fine in a week or so.” Gar murmurs.

He hears a huff of laughter come from his roommate. “And how do you know that?”

Shifting his sights to Jon busy holding a bag of tiny frozen vegetables against his shoulder, Gar sighs. There’s no point hiding his abilities anymore. Not after tonight, what happened because of them, and the panic they made his housemates experience.

He thought he had control. Guess not.

“Enhanced healing. Another side effect.”

Jon blinked, “Really? Wow, you got it all, huh.” Lifting the bag to check the wound it was placed over wasn’t being irritated by its presence, Jon frowns when Gar stays silent. His brown gaze clouded and screwed down to the floor, “You alright? Does this hurt too much?”

“No, it’s–” Glancing at the pile of removed bandages, dried and stained crimson coloring the affected area of white, set on top of the loose gray t-shirt he went to bed in, Gar squeezes his eyes shut and gives his head a light shake, “-it’s not that.”

A strange feeling of familiarity struck the teenager when Jonathan’s gaze fell on him. The teenager’s concern felt different, it wasn’t the usual feelings you’d expect from knowing your friend is looking at you. Jon’s emotion felt stronger than normal and swears he felt worry beginning to grow in his chest despite not being worried in the slightest. He’s more upset than worried, actually. His powers must be absorbing his roommate’s emotions like they used to do with Rachel’s– but they’d only do that when she used her abilities on him, casting her emotions to Gar for him to feel and understand. Jon didn’t have powers. He’s human, no meta attached. He couldn’t send his emotions to Gar to feel as if they were his own.

It had to be his abilities, that’s the only logical explanation. They’re being weird, again. He chalks it up to that and goes on, shoving the odd happening to the back of his mind and leaving it unspoken. It wasn’t important right now, anyway.

“I’m such a shitty friend..” He breathes out, accompanied by a dry chuckle. Snapping his attention to focus on Jon, Gar twists to the side and holds a hand out, gesturing to the blonde teenager, “I should have been here, helping you! You were hurt, too!-”

“Gar, careful-”

“-and I left, got myself hurt instead of being there for you!--” Habit of throwing his arm out in exclamation greeted by another spike of pain, causing the teenager to jump and bite his tongue to stop the curses from rolling off.

Jonathan exhales and Gar feels a twinge of anxiety.

“But I’m fine; I’ve been fine since this morning.” Jon assured softly, not a single word laced with annoyance or anger and the fire of worry starting in his mind is snuffed out. Watching his roommate grab the roll of clean bandage from the bed, Gar lifts his arm and holds it straight out; forcing himself not to wince at the bandage patch being stuck against the bullet wound. The white rolled bandages next, wrapping from shoulder to elbow. “Don’t beat yourself up. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Just feels like I did.” Gar frowned.

Slipping his shirt on once Jonathan was done treating the wound, Gar intended on exiting their shared bedroom to go downstairs but plans were abruptly put on halt. A squeak of mixed confusion and surprise slips through the teen’s lips as Jon pulls him into a hug. Extra care taken not to touch the wounded areas.

“What are you doing?”

“Hugging you.” Jon chuckles. A wave of affection crashes into the metahuman, brought upon by his abilities processing the care and understanding coloring Jonathan’s tone and warmth of his embrace. Arms wrapped around his frame and holding him close, not in expressing sorrow or pain, only genuine fondness radiated from his friend, “You kind of seem like you need one.”

He hates this, it makes him want to scream out of frustration, tear his hair out in anger. The hesitation keeping his arms locked at his side, the fear making his heart pound and memories he tries so hard to ignore, keep behind a dam slip through the cracks.

Still as a statue, staring round eyes and horrified. He couldn’t believe it, he didn’t want to believe it. The pavement, every inch, covered in blood. Blood dripping from his jaws and soaking his paws. It was like a car crash, a tragedy he couldn’t remove his gaze from. “I warned you, dear boy” is all he heard from Niles Caulder when he returned home, clothes stained with blood that wasn’t his. Staring numbly at the floor, silent tears streaming down his cheeks, every droplet of blood splashing against the floor amplified in his ears, as Niles wrapped him in an embrace and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re dangerous.”

Wrapping his arms tightly around the older man he’s come to see as a father-figure over the past few months, lips pressing into a smile and purring loudly when Dick returned the hug even if it had only been for a few moments. It’s an embrace of reassurance, or at least he thought it was. Gar freezes, face draining of color when the three words whisper into his ear “I’ll be back.” Heart dropping to his stomach, he releases himself from the hug and backs up; staring up at a man clad in a black and orange war-suit, lifting a gun to point at his head: Deathstroke.

He would have sat there in silence, a far away look in his eyes, clouded with painful memory if Jonathan didn’t speak up and pulled the green haired teen out of his head and back into reality. Where he’s not covered in someone else's blood or having a lie, self-centered and carelessly, said to face, and abandoned like he was nothing but a pawn in an old war he hadn’t been a part of.

“Whenever you want me to let go, I will.”

No, that reality is lost, somewhere in the giant universe. He’s living a new, different reality and it is not his earth, not a single thing is a copy of the gloomy world he came from.. Maybe that’s why he loves it and why he fights. Fights against the chains wrapped around his wrists keeping his arms frozen in place. Hands were shaking as he returned his friend’s embrace, slowly sliding his hands under Jonathan’s arms and resting his palms onto his shoulder blades. Pressing his face into Jon’s shoulder, Gar allows the tenseness in his muscles to loosen and melts into the embrace.

“In a few minutes.” Gar mumbles as he pressed his face into the side of Jonathan’s neck.

Resting the side of his face against Gar’s shoulder so his gaze is aimed at the wall, Jonathan’s lips part into a smile and he breathes. “Okay."

Chapter 7: The bonfire

Summary:

a simple plan made between Jordan and Sarah creates a serious ripple effect.

Notes:

TW: bullying aka Timmy Ryan being an asshole, mentions of medication and self-harming

*slaps chapter* this bad boy can fit so much hurt/comfort in it

the scene with Clark and Jon wasn't originally planned but I added it for my bestie @glandslamglam just to give them some extra angst about their fav boys.. haha.. hope you enjoy and bring tissues

comments are always welcome and appreciated! I love reading yall's thoughts on the chaos!

Chapter Text

“I don’t know how funky and messy earth travel is. I didn’t even know you could travel to other earths via weird-ass stormy portals!”

Caws of circling crows filled the morning air as the large black birds glided through the gray skies.

Garfield lifts his gaze to the heavens above, their shining glory being covered by a layer of dark groom. The young metahuman wondering if San Francisco is gloomy today as well. Do the Titans glance up at the sky and muse about the days they all resided under the same sun? the same moon? the stars? Does time pass the same on each earth? Has he been gone longer or shorter? It’s been a month here, but what if it’s been a year back home. What has he missed? Are the Titans refusing to acknowledge the thought that Gar might be gone forever or did they know once the portal shut and accepted the painful reality that Gar was never coming home. What’s going through their heads? Do they think he’s dead, lost? Did they grieve for him like a teammate taken out in battle.

If they believe Garfield is lost on another earth, there’s not a single chance any of them could correctly theorize or presume the outcoming Gar is currently living in, not even Dick. Because Gar himself still finds it hard to wrap his brain around the fact that out of the millions of earths, he had been sent to this one of all earths. He has to assume it was random, whatever he was traveling through kicked him out here just because, but he’d be lying through his two pointed teeth if he said some days he didn’t ponder the thoughts of purpose, destiny even. What if he’s supposed to be here, but if it had been his destiny to live here for the rest of his days– why be born on a different earth in the first place, why didn’t he start here?

A teardrop of rain splashes onto the tip of Garfield’s nose, causing the teenager’s nose to scrunch at the chill of cold water. Brought from the spiraling depths of his constantly wandering mind, Gar frowns and exhales through his nose.

“It’s just-” He rubs the back of his neck, “I thought I would have heard something from you guys by now, a sign, something.”

Caw!

Gar shifts his focus to the wooden fence a few steps away where a large crow had landed, hopping from the taller post to one of the beams. Frantically flapping its black wings to no doubt get the metahuman’s attention. As he walked over, the crow retrieved a little pine branch with its beak from where it left it on the post and thrusted its neck out towards Gar once stood in front of it, holding the branch out and closer to him.

“Oh,” With a careful hand he accepts the bird’s gift, “Is this for me?”

The corvid caws again, more proudly this time and dips its head.

“Thank you.” He smiles, then gently pets the top of the crow’s head with his fingertip.

After a third caw, this time being an ‘you’re welcome’, the large black bird returns to the sky and Gar takes a seat on the fence beam. Exhaling through his nose and eyes turned down to gaze at the gift being held in his palm, he could feel his skin beginning to itch at every tiny prick from the needles attached to the branch. How sad are you when even animals think you need cheering up?

“Out of all the places you could be dark and brooding!” Memories clouding the teenager’s darkened gaze fade away, replaced by a bright sparkle brought upon by the all too familiar voice. Maybe Jon can sense when I’m sad too. “It has to be the muddiest area of the farm, huh?”

The green haired teen chuckles watching Jonathan stroll towards him, paper towel wrapped something in hand and grimacing in disgust at the sloshing sound made with every step, boots somehow finding every soggy patch of field turned to mud from last night’s rain shower.

“How sweet of you to brave the mud for me, Kent.” Gar smiled as Jonathan appeared over his shoulder.

“It’s what I do.” Jon shrugged casually but didn’t fight against the growing smile replacing the grimace, the teen handing Garfield the mummified treat, “Here, I brought you a poptart.”

“Thanks.”

“Noticed you were missing from breakfast..” The fence creaked and wobbled slightly as Jonathan climbed on, taking a seat next to his roommate, “How long have you been out here?”

“Talking to myself like an Arkham patient?-” Gar exhales “-About twenty minutes.”

Jon doesn’t know what Arkham is… unless he does? Is there a Gotham on this earth?

“Hey, if I was lost on another earth,” Jon kicks his heel against the lower support beam, attempting to remove the mud from the bottom of his boot; stopping when the fence begins to shake too harshly. “I would be doing exactly what you’re doing.”

Gar hums at the choice of words, “I wouldn’t say I’m lost..” Bumping his fist into Jonathan’s upper arm to grab the other teenager’s attention, lips stretch into a smile of fondness, “I got you.”

Jon tips his head to the side in agreement, “Fair.” The smile on the blonde teen’s drops, eyes directed at Gar’s wounded shoulder, “How’s your shoulder doing?”

“Better.” Gar replies honestly, unwrapping the poptart from its paper towel cocoon. Happy to see a brown sugar cinnamon snack waiting to be eaten, “Any headaches?”

“All good up here.” Jon ran a hand through the puff of un-styled blonde curls, “Any ideas of what to do today?”

“Let me eat my poptart first,” Breaking off a piece of the tan edge to toss into his mouth, Gar mumbles through crunching, making Jon exhale a huff of mini laughter, “then I’ll think about it.”


The sun peeks out from behind the layer of gray clouds, teasing a clear, blue sky, with warm rays of sunshine to dry the patches of mud throughout their property.

Tossing a football back and forth in the driest area of the driveway, the Kent brothers discuss plans for the day:

“You and Sarah got any plans for today or what?”

Shuffling backwards to catch the ball spiraling towards him, Jordan raises his eyebrows and flashes his twin a smirk before tossing the ball back, “You mean you and Gar don’t have a candle light dinner planned.. or is it not date night?”

Catching the returned ball, Jonathan drops his gaze to the ball in hand and shakes his head, “Comedic of the year.” He murmurs through a forced chuckle then sends the football back to Jordan once more.

“Actually, Sarah and I do have plans for tonight. You won’t like it, though.” Jonathan tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing in question and Jordan droops his shoulders. Sighing, he gives into his twin’s silent request and braces for the guaranteed argument, “There’s a bonfire tonight, and–”

The thrown ball being caught in Jonathan’s grasp, he blinked at Jordan and curious expression twists into a scowl, “Seriously?”

“Jon,” He breathes, “just listen, okay.”

Jordan moves closer to his twin, instinctively reaching for Jon’s shoulders to grab but attempts are abruptly put an end to by Jonathan swatting his hand away, objecting his brother’s reassurance and left Jordan’s jaw hanging, dark blue eyes wide and blinking, dumbfounded, by the uncharacteristic action.

“Actually, I won’t.” Jordan grunts at the suspicious amount of force accompanying the football being sent into his chest despite his brother barely throwing it. “Have fun at the gathering of fucking assholes!”

“Come on, man. Don’t be like this..”

“You’re joking, right? telling me ‘don’t be like this’?” Jordan swallowed, immediately regretting the words that left his tongue when his twin spun around to face him, eyes glaring and sharp like daggers made of ice. “After what they did!”

“I- I’m going for Sarah, I’m not hanging out with those kids!” He doesn’t know why he’s trying so hard to defend his actions, Jonathan isn’t going to listen, see it Jordan’s way, and why should he? It happened to Jon; not Jordan and Jon has more than enough justification to be upset, “I hate them just as much as you do!--”

“Save it!”

Stumbling backwards, the teenager’s jaw falls agape as his brother’s voice booms louder than it ever has before, causing Jordan to clench his teeth and cover his ears as a high pitch ringing vibrates throughout. Some of the volume could be chalked up to Jordan’s super hearing and he’s sure most of it had been, but could safely presume the glowing red in Jonathan’s eyes had nothing to do with his enhanced hearing.

“Jon..” Jordan breathed quietly, watching the vexation on his brother’s face morph into a panicked confusion then rubs the bottom of his palms against his eyes in an effort to snuff out the burning red.

Blinking the red tinted tears from his eyes, Jon swallows the speaks through heavy breaths, “Jordan- I-”

“Whoa,”

The brothers turned their attention to the porch, watching Garfield descend down the stairs and both swiftly compose themselves before things could look suspicious and cause questioning. The third teen halts at the bottom of the stairs and Jordan feels his insides twist as Gar glances between his housemates, eyes narrowed and noting every little detail as if he was an investigator at a crime scene.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Jordan sends Jonathan a cautious glance, relieved to see the red had disappeared from his eyes, “Just having a brotherly discussion.”

Gar raised an eyebrow, “So, arguing?”

Jordan tipped his head to the side as an non-verbal agreement, then changed the topic to something able to be openly discussed. Like the outfit Garfield is currently modeling, it’s not one Jordan could say he expected to see their green haired friend sporting. A plain, fitted gray shirt under a dark blue sherpa jean jacket matching the non-ripped jeans being tucked into the pair of dull brown boots Lois bought him a week ago; fancier than Jon and Jordan’s hiker-ish boots. And a necklace with a rusted key at the bottom hanging around his neck.

“What are you all dressed up for?”

Gar tilts his chin down to observe his outfit, grabbing the fake wool lining of the jacket and peeling it to the side, “Uh, I just wanted to see how Jon lives and I can’t wear hoodies forever, ya know.” He ends with a semi-awkward chuckle, then points to the football held by Jordan, “You guys playing football?”

Jordan’s response was cut short before it started by Jonathan snatching the football from his grasp. “Um– yeah!” Jon pipes, “Well- kind of, we’re just tossing it back and forth. Wanna join in?”

It’s incredible really, how his twin went from almost breaking the sound barrier with his voice to acting like what happened a minute or so ago had been erased from his memory, and Jordan would say he’s shocked, but he’s not. You could think his brother is trying to hide the alien happening by faking normalcy and it’d be a good, logical explanation if Jordan didn’t see Jon give Gar’s outfit a once-over with his eyes, followed by cheeks flushing red. He swears the only way his twin could be more obvious with his crush is if he got down on one knee.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Gar replies, shoving his hands into the jacket’s pockets, “I’m not good at sports.”

Jonathan cocks his head to the side, a playful grin curving the previous frown, “Come on,” He cuffs Garfield’s upper arm, “It’s just catching a ball.”

The teenager’s shoulders deflate and he exhales, not having to take much convincing, “Alright, but if I mess up.”

Jonathan’s brows furrow, asking how someone could mess up catching a ball, in which Gar responds with a simple shrug.

“Okay,” Jon stays silent in thought for a moment, tossing the football up and down, then flicks his head back and gesturing towards the driveway, “Go a few yards.”

Gar blinked, “What?”

Twisting to the side, the blonde teenager points at a large bush decorating the side of the driveway, “See that bush?” He looks back to his roommate, Gar’s brown gaze following the invisible line made by Jon’s fingertip. “Go stand there and I’ll throw the ball when you’re ready.”

“Got it!” Gar pipes, then begins his stride to the directed area, murmuring quietly to himself: “Shoulda just said bush first.”

“Boys!”

The twins responded to their father’s voice in perfect sync, like a pair of cats reacting to their names being called. As cheery as usual, with the signature grin that rarely disappears from his face, Clark descends down the stairs and stops in front of his sons.

“Your mother has a meeting to attend, so you three will be coming with me.” He ends with a tiny bounce on the balls of his feet.

“Where are we going?” Jordan asks.

“Well, I have to stop at the hardware store to grab some paint and sandpaper to fix that crack in the stair railing.”

“So, we're going out of town?” Jon chimes in.

Maybe it was out of habit, Jonathan had been an athlete as long as Jordan could remember. He put insane amounts of effort and work into his skill so when he had to give up something he enjoyed so much for health reasons, he can imagine his brother’s muscle memory of every play, every throw, was still as sharp as it had been when he was quarterback. Jon no doubt craved the action, the rush he got from battle, perhaps even the glory. His twin had never been verbal about it, but Jordan could see the sadness darkening his gaze when football is brought up. It’s all he’s known for most of his life, so when he notices out of the corner of his eye that Jonathan threw the ball without shifting gaze from his father, Jordan guesses it was more of a reflex than a conscious choice. It is impressive however, his brother’s ability to send a football flying without having to look.

“Yup!” Clark, more enthused about the trip than his sons, happily goes on with today’s plans, “And then we gotta do a little grocery shopping for this week.” Glancing behind the boys, the grin drops from his face for a split second before returning with a light chuckle, “But it looks like Gar will have to get cleaned up before we go.”

Prompted by his father’s comment, Jonathan gazes up to his hand and eyes stretch wide as he becomes aware of the lack of football in his hand, the question ‘when did I throw that’ painted on his face. Behind the family members and down the driveway, sitting up from the patch of mud he fell into, Gar holds the football over his head and exclaims proudly: “I caught it!”

Jon gasps, “Dammit!”

“Hey, language!” Clark’s scold fell of deaf ears as Jonathan sprinted to his friend’s side.

“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why I–”

Stammering, embarrassed apologies were put to an end before they were finished by loud laughter. Jonathan has heard his green haired friend express humor before, he’s been doing it quite a lot recently and Jon’s more than glad Gar is becoming comfortable enough to relax, let loose, come out of his shell, ya know? The teenager barely spoke the first few days in the Kent's home; whatever he had to say or ask, he said it to Jon and Jon passed the message on to whoever it was meant for. But he’s used to chuckles, snickers and smirks, and doesn’t think he’s heard laughing like this until now. It’s strange in a good, refreshing way.

Eventually the laughter quiets and Gar must have noticed Jon staring because through the smile still stuck to his face, he asks Jon what he’s staring at.

“Uh, it’s- uh, nothing..” Jon clears his throat and scratches the side of his face, redder than it had been when he ran over, “I just haven’t seen you in a good mood before.” He snickers and adds, “It’s a good look for you, really.”

Garfield scoffs at the claim, “I’ve been in a good mood!” Tossing the football out of his grasp, he sits up and gets to his feet, “How do you think I look?”

Jon hums, “Likee..” Folding his arms tightly over his chest, expression forming into one of melancholy mixed with exasperation, he flips the imaginary bangs hanging in front of his face, “I’m gonna pretend like I’m not having fun when I really am because I have to stay mysterious and edgy.”

Gar’s jaw falls agape but the smile curving the sides of his mouth assure the blonde teen he didn’t take the humorous jab too seriously as that wasn’t what Jonathan intended. A good-natured tease, that’s all.

“I’m not that emo!”

Jon shoves his hands into his coat pockets and shrugs, “Sorry to break it to ya, but you kind of are.”

“I have never once flipped my hair like that.” His roommate’s protests continue, “I don’t even have bangs to flip!”

“Okay, okay, things were said, whether they were true or not is purely up to the people.” Gar rolls his eyes as Jon places his arm over his shoulder, guiding him towards the porch. “Let’s get you cleaned up so we can leave–” Palm meeting mud smeared on the back of Gar’s jacket instead of dry fabric, Jon frowns in disgust, “ – ew.”

Honestly, Jon should have it coming, it’s practically out of habit now. He takes a jab at Gar and Gar returns with his own. It’s their thing. So Jonathan shouldn’t have been caught off guard when Garfield wipes the mud taken from his jacket onto Jon’s cheek then dashes for the front porch, thinking it’d be a safe haven to get away without consequence. Sadly, for Gar, he’d be dead wrong.

Breaking into a sprint to chase after his roommate, he hears the green haired teenager cry in mock fear through laughter and as Gar runs into the house, Jon slows his pace to shoot his twin a sharp glare as if to remind him of their argument earlier and that he hasn’t forgotten. He’s still pissed, just not subjecting Gar to anger that has nothing to do with him.

Clark shook his head, “Those two make me tired just watching them.” A toothy smile appears on the man’s face, “They’re something, huh?”

“Yeahh..” Jordan frowns, gaze darkening with guilt and averting elsewhere, “Something.”


Anger isn’t exactly a feeling Jonathan enjoys being stuck in. It’s like quicksand, the more Jon struggles and tries to escape, the worse it gets. The way it makes his heart pound and pump boiling blood through his veins, fists ball at his sides while teeth clench so hard they might crack. Anger has always been an emotion Jon had a tough time controlling throughout his life, but unlike his twin, he kept his outbursts locked up until his family left him alone then unleashed them like a hurricane.

While Jordan kicked and screamed, Jonathan tore his room apart and lied down in the middle of the mess while staring at his ceiling as hot tears of pent up frustration and anger streamed along his cheeks. Once he felt better, at least what he considered ‘better’ then, he’d get up and clean up his room, putting everything back where it was and fixing whatever he broke so no one would know what happened while they were gone. Being greeted by fake but well practiced smiles when they return home, joining them at the dinner table and adding to the night’s discussion as if his room didn’t look like a mini tornado touched down minutes ago.

Eventually, his family learned about the little bursts of rage after Jon busted his knuckles against his dresser by pure accident and he had to come clean, knowing what would happen next once the truth left his tongue. He couldn’t protest against the decision either, his parents were trying to help him and then Jonathan wouldn’t admit it, but yes, he needed it. Not only did the anger concern them but the bloody knuckles led them to consider the possibility that Jon had harmed himself on purpose and with that came the horrifying thought that this hadn’t been the first time he’d done it.

And as suspected, the blonde teenager found himself sitting across from a woman who helped his mother in the past and both Kent brothers had officially been to therapy.

He remembers the night before his first (and definitely not last) session vividly like it had happened recently; not two years ago. Sitting on the edge of his bed, anxiety making his stomach ache, the images of his parents’ faces, taken aback and eyes round as a owl’s in worry, were burned into his brain; it's all he could see. The tears building up behind his father’s glasses - he made Superman cry - and his mother’s deep frown, she was upset with him for lying to them for so long and he understood, but the anger didn’t stop her from engulfing him in a hug, holding the teenager so tight as if something bad would happen if she let go.

Jordan was informed about what happened and the decision made because of it when he came home. His twin joined him on the bed’s edge afterwards and for an hour Jordan recounted his experiences with therapy, how much it helped him, and did his best to reassure Jon that everything would be fine; he had nothing to worry about.

“Jon.”

Leaning backwards and sinking deeper into the couch cushion, Jonathan lifts his gaze from his thumbnail, where he’s been chipping away at the navy blue nail polish, to Jordan standing in the doorway.

“What?”

“I’m sorry for upsetting you earlier.” Jordan frowns, “I should have taken your feelings and.. experience into consideration before agreeing.”

After a quiet sigh, the blonde teenager’s lips stretch into a hinted smile and slaps his palms against the tops of his thighs as he gets up from his seat, “It’s fine, man, really.” Stepping past his twin to grab the jacket he left hanging from the stair railing, he adds: “No big deal.”

Jordan blinked, confused, watching his brother slip on his jacket, “Where are you going?”

“With you?”

The confused expression on the darker haired twin’s face drops; apprehension flashes in his dark blue gaze, “I– Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Choosing to ignore the anxiety toned question and march outside without another word spoken, where Jonathan could see the headlights from Sarah’s car shining through the thin lace curtain hanging in front of the small window set in the front door.

Why wouldn’t it be a good idea? He’s going to sit his ass under a tree, away from the crowds of teenagers, and play around on his phone until the couple decides it’s time to leave; not look or speak to one person there. Intentions aren’t going to strike up conversations and joke around like he’s attending a high school reunion, it’s to get out of the house for a few hours instead of staring at a tv screen and ruining his nail polish.

It’s not like he has much to do here anyway. Ever since they returned home earlier, Gar has been occupied with helping Clark fix the stair railing and taking Jon’s place doing today’s farm work as he promised he would no matter how much Jonathan objected to the idea.

Some people might find Garfield’s headstrong nature an annoyance or a growing inconvenience, but his friend’s refusal to back down branches from a place of concern and Jon couldn’t fault his friend for worrying about his safety, especially after headaches that have been chalked up to overworking. And Jonathan couldn’t deny the fact that he can be stubborn as well when it came to playing the ‘knight in shining armor’ role. If he can take the workload off of someone else and put it onto his shoulders, he will, and having a friend who refuses to listen and butts heads against his savior complex might be the exact thing he needs.

The teenager takes a breath, the cold air traveling into his lungs opposite to the warmth causing his cheeks to flush red, “Stubborn ass.”

“If you’re talking about yourself, I agree.”

“AH!- Gar!” Shouting in surprise, Jonathan stumbles to the side and composes himself as quickly as possible, “What- What are you doing here?”

Gar scoffs, “I live here.”

“I- I know that.. I mean, what are you doing?”

“Sarah invited me to come along, but I didn’t know you were coming too?”

If he knew Garfield was tagging along, he wouldn’t be sporting the same outfit he’s been wearing since morning, covered in wrinkles, smelling like outdoors and dusty old wood from the hardware store. He would have gotten a shower, styled his hair, and maybe tried that cologne his father bought him.

When Gar twists around to shout to Jordan, who was locking the front door, Jon takes the opportunity to run fingers through his mess of curls to hopefully style it in some possible way and after licking the tip of his index finger and thumb, runs them over his eyebrows to flatten the fuzz. It’s the best he could do now. Sarah might have a piece of gum he could barrow on the way there to freshen up pizza breath from lunch.

“I decided last minute.” He replies simply once Gar’s focus returns to him.

“Great!” Gar gently elbows Jon in the middle of his arm, “Now you can show me those mines!”

Jon winces at the words leaving his friend’s lips and the volume of them, already able to feel Jordan’s glare burning into the back of his head.

Bundling into Sarah’s car, the twins are sent to the backseats by their driver who reserved shotgun for Garfield so they could talk. Blue eyes shift between the brunette young woman and teenage boy with green hair, their discussion mixed with an occasional chuckle echoing into the backseat, and as Sarah stops at the edge of the beginning of their driveway, she reaches into her front jacket pocket to pull out a wrapped green apple flavored sucker and hands it to Garfield, saying she bought it for Gar, who beams at the offer and thanks their temporary housemate for the gift.

There’s a pang in Jonathan’s chest, something he shouldn’t be feeling over a simple action of kindness, because that’s all Sarah was doing, being kind. Jon’s jaw shouldn't be setting, heart shouldn’t be pounding harder, fingers shouldn’t be curling into the fabric of his jeans.

He shouldn’t be jealous.

Garfield’s allowed to have friends that aren’t only him, and he knows that. He agrees, believes that fact. But the fear digging its claws into his brain doesn’t. Doubts, what ifs, whatever it could find and use against him. Making sure he remembers, all his previous friends either weren’t his friends from the beginning at all or ditched him when that rumor started at school. Metropolis, Smallville.. no one wanted him around, no one truly liked him; not even his girlfriends, they liked his status, his looks, the façade he created; not who he really is. And why should this time be any different? Personally knowing his track record with luck, Gar probably has a crush on Sarah.

Does Gar even like guys..?

“The mines?” Jon blinks out of his trace when Jordan hisses barely above a whisper. His twin was facing him, eyes narrowed in anger, “What are you thinking? We have no idea what’s down there.”

Jonathan opens his mouth to explain, defend his actions but could only squeak a noise out before Jordan interrupts, continuing on his argument:

“I get it you’re, like, hardcore crushing, but you need to watch what you say.”

“Enhanced hearing.” Jon cuts in quickly.

Jordan blinks, “What?”

Jon sighs, annoyance clear in his tone, “Gar has enhanced hearing, so your whispering is pointless.”

Jordan’s frown deepens, “What is your deal today?” He keeps his tone quiet, but doesn’t hide the frustration coloring every word, “Nobody forced you to come along, you made that decision yourself.”

Jonathan doesn’t reply this time, only exhales through his nose and leans the side of his head against the window. Jordan could see it though, the memory -or the nightmare- replaying in his brother’s eyes. The curly haired teen’s expression softens with sympathy, and the anger in his gaze drains away; leaving worry in its place.

“Jon, if you can’t do this, you shouldn’t go.” Jordan pauses, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Jon shifts in his seat, folding his arms and murmurs, “I’m fine, okay. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Alright.”


All around him, teenagers hollered and laughed, and the sound of metal cans being tossed into the dirt and crushed in their grasps blending together to make a symphony of raging hormones and severe cases of b.o. The stench of alcohol causing his face to scrunch in disgust, Gar decides it’s time to slip away. Thank the gods he tagged along to investigate the mines, he wasn't a fan of loud noises and large crowds of people, and enhanced senses are intensifying his surroundings to an obnoxious degree.

Throwing his empty bottle of coke in a barrel lined with a trash bag, Garfield advances towards where he last saw Sarah. Relieved to see she was still sitting with her group of three girl friends on a fallen tree log. He didn’t know where the mines were and isn’t in the mood to wander around like a lost dog looking for them, and since she’s the only person he knows in close proximity, he’ll have to ask her.

Gar thought Jonathan would’ve been the one to show him, maybe have a mini adventure together, but Jon disappeared when they got here and he couldn’t find Jordan either.

“Oh, guys!” Sarah leapt from her seat to march over to Garfield and guided him closer to her friend group, “This is the Gar I’ve been telling you about.”

He gets a greeting from two of the girls while the third one with long, dark brunette hair pulled up into a high ponytail, gazes up at him through her eyelashes as she finishes taking a drink from her iced.. something. If he uses his super smelling to find out, he’ll vomit from everything else he’d smell, as well.

“Sarah,” The third girl says almost singingly before standing from the log to step closer to Gar, “You didn’t tell us he was cute.”

Gar swallowed hardly, face turning red, as the girl stood in front of him and introduced herself:

“Candice Pergande.”

“Garfield Logan.”

Amazed he managed to squeak his name out, a hurricane of thoughts and feelings - mainly discomfort and stomach twisting nerves - crashed into him like an unseen car.

Am I about to be flirted with? What do I do? What the hell do I say?!

“Garfield?” Candice echoed, accompanied by a hum of interest, “You don’t hear that name a lot.”

“Yeah, I know.” Awkwardness causes him to chuckle, “I’ve thought about changing it.”

“I wouldn’t.” Candice replies quickly, “It has character to it. It’s cool.”

“I guess.. thanks.” He sends the girl a genuine smile for the compliment, a smile Candice returns.

“I don’t think you came over to be flirted with.” Sarah jumps in, Gar picking up on the hint of annoyance in her tone. “Did you need something?”

“Um, yeah,” Scratching the side of his face, he focuses his gaze on Sarah; afraid if he glances at Candice, she’ll take it as a sign that he’s interested in her. She’s pretty, he’ll admit, but not really his type. He likes women, but always found himself more attracted to men. “I was wondering where the mines were.”

“Oh, right.” Sarah tilts her head slightly, “Wasn’t Jonathan supposed to go with you?”

Gar’s shoulders droop and he sighs, “I thought so but I can’t find him.” And don’t wanna bother him. Jon didn’t seem like he was in a good mood today.

“Well, it’s over there.”

Following the young woman’s pointed finger, peering through crowds of teenagers, he sees where the woods ends and an open land deprived of any foliage begins, only able to make out rocks decorating a drop-off.

“But there’s a steep drop so be careful–” When Sarah returns to Gar, the green haired teenager has disappeared. Confusion pulls the girl’s eyebrows together, she sweeps her gaze side to side to see where her friend went but it comes up empty. “Is he related to Batman or something?” She ends, mumbling quietly.

As carefully as he could, every step taken with extra caution, Garfield navigates the rocky decline and exhales the breath he’s been holding in at the bottom. After giving his body a quick shake to calm his nerves, he proceeded in his investigation, aiming his sights onto the tall barbed-wire fence protecting the equipment inside it and, to Gar’s disappointment, the entrance to the mines themselves.

Gar exhales, “Dammit.”

Curling his fingertips into the wire holes in the fence, Gar leans forward into it and eyes narrow in focus, glued to the area of the mine’s entrance he could see.

Not long into his inspection for a far, on the tunnel's wall a shadow creeps along. Its shape is familiar to a human hunching over like someone was tasked with checking the entrance but didn’t want to be caught by spying eyes while doing so. Should have taken your shadow into accountability, buddy. Nightwing would be using you as an example of what not to do on look out.

Pressing his ear against the fence, the metahuman purposely switches his super hearing on, hoping he could eavesdrop on some top secret conversation, learn some classified information, and not drunk teenagers. Garfield’s not a superhero on this earth, just a teenager with powers, so he’s allowed to use his abilities for some sleuthing.

For a few seconds, all he could hear was the fuzzy static that came when his enhanced hearing couldn’t find a source to tap into, until a high pitched noise screeches in his ears. Think of a metal fork’s prongs being dragged across a glass plate but cranked up to max and its teeth grinding noise is all you can hear.

Screaming, Garfield violently jerks away from the fence and covers his hands over his ears, palms pressing as tightly as possible to help block out the sound.

It wasn't working.

/

At some point Jonathan is going to have to get up, there’s only so much you can do on your phone. He’s watched enough tiktok for the day – maybe even a week – and lower back aches from using tree bark as a backrest. Jordan and Sarah were more than likely busy with their friends, but Garfield? What’s he up to?

Jon frowns, guilt striking the teen’s heart as he thinks about his friend. He promised to show Gar around, check out the mines together, and he forgot. Left his friend, who’s still learning about their earth, alone in a place he’s never been before to sit under a tree and watch videos.

Putting his phone in his coat pocket, Jon gets to his feet and begins his stride into a patch of woods taken over by a party.

It felt like a step back in time and suddenly he’s rushing to a bonfire to protect Jordan from Sarah’s now ex-boyfriend, Shawn, all over again. This time, however, Jonathan is taller, stronger, and not so easy to push around. Though he hasn’t fought in awhile, he’s sure there’s still enough anger left to channel into a swing or two.

He knows the partiers are staring at him like he’s a deadman walking, he could feel their eyes on him as if they were physical things to touch. Everyone in Smallville knows what happened to poor Jonathan Kent, why he was pulled from school, and seemingly disappeared from the earth’s surface, besides the occasional sighting in stores or restaurants.

“Do my eyes deceive me or am I seeing a ghost?”

Jonathan freezes in his path, heart pounding in his chest and panic begins to climb up his spine, making his legs shake mildly and breathing speed up. But the teenager forces the oncoming panic to the back of his head and puts on a tough face to glare at the teenager strolling towards him.

With a beer can in one hand, Timmy Ryan halts at Jon’s side and loops an arm over his shoulder, “I thought you were dead, I really did.”

“Screw off, Ryan.” Jonathan growled, pushing Timmy’s arm off and continued his path to the mines, “I’m not here to catch up.”

Trailing behind the teenager, the high school’s quarterback calls after him, “Then why are you here, Jonny-boy?”

Jon kept his focus ahead but grumbled, “Like hell I’ll tell you.”

“I saw that guy palling ‘round with your group. He’s not from around here, is he?” Stride halting once more, the teenager’s eyes widen at Timmy’s observation. He wasn’t looking at the talking ass behind him, but knew a wicked grin spread across his face as he went on, “Does where you’re heading have to do with him? Come on, mann.. I just wanna know.”

Anger twinged inside the blonde teenager as Timmy whined, insisting Jonathan stay around and talk to him.

“Fine!” Jonathan shouts, then whips around, “You wanna catch up, Timmy? Let’s catch up.” Eyes narrowing, he marches closer to Timmy and announces loudly, “How’s your girlfriend? Is she still cheating on you with every guy in school or no?”

The teenagers who stopped their conversations to listen in on Jonathan and Timmy’s argument, chuckle in unison. A smirk tugs at the blonde teen’s lips, watching Timmy’s smug look twist into one of dumbstruck. It didn’t stay long, though, the quarterback matched Jon’s smirk, adding more hostility behind it.

“What about you, Kent? Are you still making out with guys or was that just for Tag?”

The surrounding teenagers' laughter roared in volume and Timmy took a step closer to Jonathan, making the teen move backwards.

“I’ve heard some people have seen you and the new guy hangin’ awfully close in town.” Fists ball at the blonde teen’s hips, knuckles bleaching white and nostrils flared. The protective fury boiling in his blood making a layer of red cover his gaze and heat burn behind it. “How about you introduce me to your boyfriend; besides the stupid hair, he’s kind of prett–”

Whatever Timmy had left to say is cut short, the quarterback being sent into the ground by Jonathan ramming into his torso. He might not play football anymore but still remembers all the moves, and he’ll never forget. Slamming the larger teenager onto his back, Jon’s chest heaved with rage as he connected his first with Timmy’s jaw, repeating two more times.

Jordan’s attention had been dragged from his discussion with Sarah and her friends to the crowds of teens chanting and cheering. Tapping in with super hearing to find out what the commotion was about, the curly haired teen’s face pales in panic when his hearing picks out his twin’s angry growling and leapt from where he sat without warning, hurrying towards the fight and shouts his brother’s name.

Timmy sends his fist into Jonathan’s face in defense, knocking the teenager off and onto the ground. Forcing his body, shaking from shock of impact, to its hands and knees, a sharp pain radiates from his nose and travels throughout his face; eyes stretch round, feeling liquid dripping from his nostrils and watching it land into the dirt below.

Droplets of blood, splashing onto the forest floor with every drip, the sound of running crimson and heavy breathing rings through Gar’s ears; muting the previous high pitched screeching. The stomach churning stench of copper assaults his nostrils, flooding his enhanced smelling and coating his tongue with the taste of iron.

He hears a thump next. It’s heavy, sturdy, but not large enough to be a tree. Someone fell down or has been purposely knocked over.

“Get away from my brother! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Recognizing Jordan’s voice Gar’s heart begins to pound faster, pumping veins full of blood illuminating bright green under layers of skin; causing the boy’s brown irises to be corrupted by wild green. A hand is brought up from his side to grip onto the lapel of his coat, slowly peeling it back, preparing to step in if need be.

“Jonathan!” Sarah. “Look at me, okay. Everything's gonna be fine. Just breathe.”

Through the teenager’s yellowing teeth, quickly growing into a mouthful of daggers, an animalistic snarl sounds. In one swift motion, Garfield tears his coat off, removing and tossing his shirt alongside, and propels itself up the slope of rocks using it’s newly formed paws with claws specially made for climbing.

Screaming, horrified and panicked, crowds of teenagers scrambled to the safety of their cars; some practically leaping over each other to get there. Emerged from the depths of the rocky slope, the reason for panic raises to its hind legs, towering at eight feet tall, and lets out a bellowing roar before dropping to it’s four paws. The grizzly bear’s unnatural stare takes a sweep of the area, muzzle pointed upwards as the animal takes a deep inhale, then when it finds what it wants, it breaks into a sprint.

Eight-hundred pounds of pure muscle and fur, jaws able to snap bones as if it was a pretzel stick, thundering in the direction of Timmy Ryan and Jordan.

“Sarah!” Jonathan gasps, breaking the young woman out of her frozen state by shoving her away, “Get to Jordan! Have him speed you guys out of here, hurry!”

“Wha- What about you?--”

“Forget about me!” Jon’s eyes flash red, “Go!”

Relieved Sarah listened to the command without further protest and left Jonathan to hurry to Jordan’s side for safety. He hears the young woman shout his brother’s name followed by a whoosh, and a strong gust of wind crashing into Jon; almost knocking the teenager over. Attempts at standing on shaky legs are abruptly put on hold when Jon’s attention is dragged to the bear once again.

Lying helplessly under the grizzly’s frame as it snarled in his face, one of the animal’s paws placed firmly against his chest, Timmy sobbed and begged for his life, apologizing for everything he’d just done. And even in his panic, Jonathan found it odd that the bear wasn’t attacking the teenager in perfect reach to send it’s sharp teeth into. Jonathan doesn’t want Timmy killed, but a chunk taken out of his arm would be okay. He deserved it.

The situation becomes stranger when the grizzly bear backs off Timmy and allows him to escape without a chase. The bear watches the teenager run– scared shitless – and huffs, like the animal wanted to scare Timmy, not harm him. What animal does that?

Jonathan’s breath catches in his throat when the bear snaps it’s head in his direction next, it’s green eyes glowing brightly and aimed at him. The blonde teenager starts to scoot backwards as the grizzly advances closer to him, picking up it’s pace before Jon has a chance to get to his feet.

Chest heaving with heavy but quick breaths, Jonathan’s eyes grew wide once the grizzly stopped in front and stood over him. The animal bends it’s head down, thrusting it’s muzzle in Jon’s face and the teen squeezes his eyes shut, sending the tears building streaming down his cheeks. Wincing at the tips of the bear’s claws touching under his nose, the teen chokes out a sob and muscles tighten, bracing for an attack that never came.

Prompted by silence and lack of being mauled, Jon flutters his eyes open to investigate. Now sitting, it’s small round ears pinned back, the bear inspects the blood on it’s claws for a moment, then shifts it’s focus back to Jon with a worried sounding groan.

It’s baffling, head spinning. He’s in shock, utterly speechless, until it finally clicks and Jon’s most mused question is answered. Every hint, every clue he’s been given flashes in his mind, creating the whole – patiently waited for – image.

The connection to wildlife, those claw marks in the stair railing, it all made sense. Everything made sense now. The biggest tip off, however, had nothing to do with what was previously mentioned. It’s the eyes burning into his: green. He remembers those eyes, that specific shade of green, what it represents. Staring into a forest of green when he checked on Garfield the first night he arrived on their earth to more recently: being swept off his feet by Gar demonstrating his super strength, gazing at the blonde teenager in his arms with the same shade of green.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jonathan squeaks out: “Ga- Garfield?”

Ears perking up at the name, the grizzly bear gets to it’s paws and moves closer to Jonathan. With a breathy but happy grunt, it gently thrusts the top of it’s head into the teen’s chest and tiny nub of a tail wags side to side.

“Hol- Holy shit, Garfield!” Excitement sparkles in Jonathan’s gaze where fear previously resided. Gar lifts his head to be level with Jon and the teenager cups the bear’s cheeks, jaw falling agape at the fur under his palms, “You’re a bear! Like, a real bear!”

Gar huffs a noise that could be taken as a laugh, then circles around to stand behind Jonathan. Shoving his head under the teenager’s arm, he loops it over his shoulders and signals his friend to try to stand up with a groan. Nodding in understanding, Jonathan takes a breath and gets to his feet with a grunt.

Grateful for the extra help, Jon sends Garfield a smile and breathes: “Thanks, man.”

After a huff through his nose, Garfield raises onto his hind legs once more and wraps his front legs around Jonathan, pulling his friend into a literal bear-hug and a pelt of fluffy, green fur.

Jonathan’s eyes glittered with wonderment and he returned the embrace. Beaming wide, amused, that his hands couldn’t connect and arms barely able to wrap around the large frame hugging him.

“I’ve always wanted to do this.”

A gasp cuts into the moment so unbelievable it felt like it could only happen in a fantasy world. You’d really have to see it to believe it, and it seems like Jordan did.

“What the he– Jon?!”

“Uhh..” Keeping his arms around the grizzly, mostly because he isn’t strong enough to release from the embrace, Jon leans back to gaze up at Gar for a heartbeat, then switches to Jordan and flashes his brother a sheepish grin, “This might look weird, but I swear, I can explain.”

/

“You can turn into a bear?”

Riding shotgun as Jordan drives to the hospital to meet Clark and drop Jon off to get his nose checked out, Sarah twists around and gazes at the backseats where Garfield and Jonathan sat. Gar voluntarily occupying the ever-so hated middle seat to sit closer to Jon, who’s holding a scrap of cloth Jordan found in the glovebox to his bloody nose.

Gar gives the young woman a half-smile, then shrugged, “Yeah, but there’s a lot more to it than that.”

“Like?” Jordan chimes in.

“Now you gotta explain, dude.” Jonathan added, voice sounding nasally behind the cloth.

For a few moments he ponders, what would be the best and quickest way to explain such a complicated subject. He could think of an entirely new explanation or he could go with the simple answer he gave the Titans. Exhaling through his nose, Gar leans to the side to fully face Jonathan and rests his shoulder against the seat, the pressure causing it to squeak.

“I’m a shapeshifter.” Folding his arms and tilting his head so it, as well, presses into the seat, he speaks loud enough to address the whole car but keeps his focus on the pair of ice blue eyes blinking at him in curiosity, “I can turn into any animal I want.”

The blonde teenager’s next question is spoken no louder than a whisper, “How?”

“I can..” Gar’s brows furrow in thought, “Unzip my dna, form it into something new; something different.”

“So, you can, just, be whatever you want?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Jon frowns, concern pulling his brows together, “Does it hurt?”

“Depends.” Gar sighs, “Sometimes it feels like electricity in my veins, but other times..” The teen swallows, then lowers his volume, “It feels like I’m being torn apart. I can feel everything that’s happening to me.”

Bones breaking, muscles tearing, skin stretching and ripping. The feeling couldn’t be far from hell, it’s torture- bloody, painful torture. And he can’t figure out why it happens. He’ll never forget the first time he experienced it either. The memory, the feeling, the sick bastard at fault for it all, will forever be burned into his brain. Writhing on the floor of Doom Manor’s testing room in agony, pain surging through every inch of his body as it began to take on a new form. And standing over him, subjecting a twelve year old boy to the worst pain a person could ever experience, with his cold eyes lacking any sympathy or regret: Niles- fucking -Caulder.

The metahuman frowns at the guilt he sees darken his friend’s gaze.

“I’m sorry.” Jon apologizes, aware Gar shapeshifted tonight to protect him and now no doubt believes he put Gar through so much pain.

“You’re fine.” Gar smiles, hoping it reassures his friend and ends his guilt, “It hasn’t felt like that in awhile.” Besides the first time he shapeshifted, it seems to be painful when he tries to shift when he’s feeling intense negative emotions, mainly sadness or sorrow.

Jonathan nods but stays silent, gaze dropping to his lap.

“Hey,” A smirk tugs at the side of his lips when Jon’s attention returns to him, and playfulness sparkles in the teenager’s eyes, “Who’s the bodyguard now?”

The blonde teen huffs a mini laugh, accompanied by a hint of a growing smile.

“Definitely you.”


“Good news, Jonathan.”

Clark lifts his head, averting his gaze from his son sitting on the edge of the hospital bed to the family nurse entering their room, shutting the door behind her. From the clipboard in her hands she pulls up a few x-ray films, holding out for the father and son to inspect and pointing where the damage had been done.

“Your nose isn’t broken, just a little banged up.” There’s a smile on her face as she spoke, “It’s going to be bruised, but should be healed up in two to three weeks.”

“That’s good to hear.” Clark exhales in relief , keeping a comforting hand on Jonathan’s shoulder.

“Also I noticed your prescription is nearing its refill day.” The nurse places a hand on Jon’s upper arm. Tone soft with care and understanding, she adds: “I’ll take care of that for you, okay?”

Eyes screwed down, staring numbly at the white tile floor below, Jon stays quiet and nods.

Clark smiles, “Thank you.”

The nurse dips her head, excusing herself to other matters that needed her attention; assuring she’ll return in a few minutes to get the Kents checked out and headed home.

“I feel like I live here.”

Speaking once the nurse had left, Jonathan drags his gaze from the floor up to Clark, and the adult feels his heart clench in his chest. For a brief moment, time rewinds and sixteen year old Jonathan is gone, replaced by the wide eyed fourteen year old, scared and holding onto Clark’s hand so tightly as if his father would disappear if he let go. Remembering their first checkup after the incident that just so happened to be the day Jon had to take a trip into the MRI to check his brain function. The tears pouring down the then fourteen year old’s face as he begged his father to cancel his appointment. Clark hasn’t ever seen his son so scared before. It was heartbreaking, a sight and a feeling he never wants to experience again.

“Every time I think I’m getting better, I’m back, sitting right here.”

Clark sighs and takes a seat next to his son, “But you are getting better, buddy.” Wrapping an arm around Jon’s back, he pulls the teen into a side embrace, “So much better!”

Jon huffs angrily, “I thought those stupid pills were supposed to fix me.”

The man’s eyes narrow slightly as his expression hardens, “Now, I understand you’re upset but I won’t allow you to say things like that about yourself. You don’t need fixed. You’re not broken.”

Raising a hand to his forehead, the teen runs two fingers over the deep scar splitting his eyebrow and murmurs, “Feels like I am.”

“I know it feels like that..” Clark admits, sending his son an empathic look, “But, Jonathan, I promise you’re not.”

He watches his son’s brows narrow in thought for a moment, then flinches out of practiced habit when Jon snaps his head to the side to glare at him.

“If nothing is wrong with me then why am I on medication, dad?” Before Clark could reply Jon kept going, “ Why- Why did mom freak out on me when I forgot to take them?”

“Because you need them.” He keeps his composure calm, but adds a sternness to his tone, “And stopping like that, even if by accident, could cause issues.”

Yes, he’ll admit Lois’ reaction might have been a little over the top. She was panicked, believing Jon missed more than an afternoon without taking his medication, but apologized sincerely for her actions afterwards.

“Why?” Jon challenged, tears of frustration building on his eyelids, “Why do I need them so badly!”

“Because something bad happened to you, Jonathan!”

Jonathan winces at the rise in volume, eyes round and staring up at his father. Clark’s frown deepens and the man removes his glasses to rub his index finger and thumb over his eyes, he apologizes for raising his voice in a breath and feels a pang of regret when Jonathan doesn’t reply.

“People need help to process what happened and heal from it. Whether it’s therapy or medication, sometimes both at the same time.” Jon frowns at that, knowing his father was using him as an example. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Scars happen, and yes, some people can heal from them quicker than others.. But that doesn’t mean the others who need more time to heal, to feel better, are broken. Everyone runs their own race, Jon, and you’re running yours at your own pace.”

A silent, single tear runs down his son’s cheek and Clark pulls the blonde teenager into another hug, glad when Jonathan doesn’t protest. He might not be as upset as Clark previously thought.

“You’re so strong and I’m proud of everything you’ve done these two years to heal.” Clark pauses, “But there’ll still be moments where you feel like being strong isn’t enough, where all you want to do is cry or scream-”

Jonathan huddles closer to his father, cutting in with a sniffle and Clark tightens the embrace.

“I know you think those moments are of weakness, thinking you’ve backtracked.” Running a comforting hand though the teenager’s blonde curls, the man’s gaze is warm and overflowing with love when Jonathan glances up to him, “I want you to know they aren’t. Allowing yourself to express how you feel is healthier than ignoring them. I know you try to stay strong for us, for Jordan, but you’re not disappointing me or your mother by asking for help if you need it. We’ll always be there for you when you need us, okay?”

Jon sniffled again, using his coat sleeve to wipe under his eyes, “Yeah.” He says quietly, then leans his head against his father’s shoulder and stares at the blank wall in front of him, “Will there ever be a time when I’ll feel better again, on my own?”

“There’s always a possibility, bud.” Tilting his head, Clark slips another question into the conversation; wanting to know his son’s honest answer, “Do you think something is wrong with Jordan for needing medication to help his anxiety?”

Without hesitation, Jon shook his head.

“Exactly, and the same thing applies to you.”

Shoulders deflated as Jonathan took a breath, “I’m just glad we don’t have to stay overnight again.”

Clark smiles, “Oh yeah? Why?”

“Because it smells like old people.” Jon ends his statement by blowing a raspberry.

The man agrees with laughter, “It’s all-” he twirls his hand, gesturing to their surroundings, “The medical equipment, cleaners, and stuff.”

Shifting his gaze up to his father, a hint of a smirk appears on the teen’s face, “Then, they need better smelling cleaning supplies.”

“How about those cranberry scented cleaning wipes your mom buys?”

“Honestly,” Jonathan chuckles, “That’d be, like, so much better.”

A muffled vibration sounds from Jonathan’s front jeans pocket and Clark releases his son from the hug, letting Jon retrieve and check his phone; watching his son’s smile widen, Clark raises an eyebrow. Jon’s expression brightens as read the text he’d been sent, like dark clouds rolling away to reveal sunshine. And was that red tinting the teen’s cheeks?

Casting a glance over Jon’s shoulder, Clark wonders aloud who texted, though already had his suspicions about who it was.

“Just Gar asking if I’m alright.” Jon raises an eyebrow at the grin Clark couldn’t keep from his face, “What?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing..” The adult flaps his hand, then averts his gaze down to the paper they were sitting on, “Just thinking to myself.”

Thinking there had been truth to Jordan’s claim.


“This is your real hair color? Green?”

A chuckle escapes through the teen’s smiling lips as his roommate inspects his hair, or more accurately, its color. Gar sat on the edge of his bed as Jon stood in front of him, running his fingers through the locks of neon green like he couldn’t believe someone’s hair color could truly be green. The shapeshifting makes total sense, but green hair? Nah, it must be fake.

“Yes, it’s very much my real hair color.”

Jon’s questions continue, “No bleaching? No dyes? No nothing?”

“Notta thing. Came with the powers.” Gar shrugs.

“Wow,” Jonathan breathed, then took a seat next to Gar. Blue eyes glittering in amazement, a smile stretching across his face, “That's so cool!”

It’s a strange but welcomed feeling, the reveal of his abilities and what oddities came with it being reacted to with wonderment almost like Garfield was a fairytale character come to life instead of a scientist’s experiment gone wrong. Jonathan’s eyes are so bright, glowing with excitement and interest, solely directed on Gar as if he and Jon were the only two people in existence.

The blonde teenager didn’t need to verbally express his wonder, Gar could see the millions of questions swirling around his brain by the sparkle in his gaze and large grin on his face. Jonathan finally knew Garfield’s secret and he wanted to know how a boy could become a beast; for all Gar knew, his power is one of a kind so he couldn’t blame his friend for wanting to know the whole story, but if Jon was truly ready for the whole story is a separate concern. Gar’s not sure he’s ready to watch the excitement be sucked from his friend to be replaced with disgust and horror because the origin story of Beast Boy isn’t exactly a happy one.

Though, now, having seeing the Kent boys reactions to his powers, how they seem so amazed and accepting the experience was, he feels kind of stupid for being so over-dramatic and secretive. If he’d be honest the moment he became comfortable in his new life, the dire wolf incident wouldn’t have happened. Gar could’ve shifted into a cat for an hour or so and watched Lois make dinner, helping out as much as he could as cat, and the night would’ve been stress, bullet, and blood free.

“It’s like– wow, my brain can’t wrap around it.” The bed squeaks as Jonathan shifts his weight, switching from sitting on his knees to crossing his legs, “You can be whatever you want, when you want.. I mean, you were a bear! That’s so sick!”

Gar huffs a mini laugh, watching his roommate throw his arms out in exclamation. He’s done a pretty good job keeping his natural instincts out of the spotlight, it’s a lot easier than trying to hold back a sea of restless animals wanting to break free and stretch their legs, and instincts don’t have a mind of their own. It’s a little quirk, as he prefers to call it, he can’t do it on command; it happens at random but has been able to link the reaction to genuine happiness and occasional bursts of fear.

A loud vibration emits from the teenager’s chest and travels up his throat, causing it to rumble softly; creating the purr you’d hear coming from your pet cat enjoying a good scratch behind the ear. Reacting to the noise, Gar watches confusion warp his friend’s previous expression. The blonde teenager taking a sweep of their bedroom for what might be causing the noise, even beginning to stand from Gar’s bed to check his phone left on their shared dresser until realization flashes in his eyes and turns his attention back to Gar.

“Is– Is that you?”

For a heartbeat Gar ponders his options, deciding how he should answer his roommate’s question. A simple yes is always a route to go, but where’s the fun in that?

There’s no reason to be shy, hide his abilities and what came with them anymore. He’s accepted, a part of something new, and the Kents didn’t point and cry in disgust: “monster!” when they saw what he truly was. Here, on this earth, he was welcomed into this family of extraordinary humans with open arms as Garfield Logan, the teenager from another earth with secret powers and stayed welcomed as Garfield Logan, the teenager from another earth with the ability to shapeshift into animals.

Grabbing Jonathan’s wrist, he pulls the teenager’s hand forward and places his palm against his chest, a gesture allowing the blonde teen to feel the vibration creating the feline-like purring.

“My powers didn’t just connect me to animals, they gave me their traits and abilities, as well,” Garfield explains, then exhales and tips his head to the side, “Sometimes it’s cool, sometimes it’s not. Really depends on the situation.” He ends with an awkward chuckle, remembering the unfortunate times his enhanced hearing picked up things he’d rather never hear again for as long as he lives.

“Dude, you’re amazing..”

When Jonathan lifts his gaze to meet Gar’s, the rings of blue brighter than they were moments ago and glowing like an icy flame, his relaxed composure straightens, shoulders tense, and eyes grow round as blood rushes into his cheeks, face heating an obvious red even in the dim lighting of their room.

Jonathan must have caught on to how his green haired roommate is feeling, how could he not though? It doesn’t take a genius to read the room, because his face mirrors Gar’s in redness and pulls his hand away.

“I- um,” Jon clears his throat, then forces an awkward grin accompanied by a chuckle, “I think, uh, we should go to bed..” The teen slowly stands from his friend’s bed, “Got stuff to do tomorrow, ya know?”

“Yeah,” Gar agrees, folding his arms tightly over his chest. The heat warming his face, keeping it red, now caused by embarrassment rather than thinking Jon’s eyes are pretty, “Good idea.”

Twenty? Thirty? It couldn’t have been forty. You lose track of time when you’re wide awake but going against it by trying to fall asleep anyway.

Eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenching tighter with every sleepless second that passes, groans of quiet frustration every time you toss and turn. Garfield normally doesn’t have a tough time falling asleep, however the excitement of today might be a factor in it. So much happened: the usual day to day turning into an unplanned shapeshifting, revealing his abilities, feeling… feelings. Maybe his brain couldn’t go into rest mode.

But he’s not the only person who experienced today’s happenings. Jon’s been front and center, as well. A main character in the story of October 5th. And Garfield couldn’t help but wonder if he’s sharing the sleep-related struggle.

Flipping onto his side, gazing at Jonathan who -to his not surprise- is sleeping on his stomach with his arms crossed under his pillow and neck twisted, facing away from Gar; making the teenager cringe, imagining how painfully stiff Jon’s neck must be when he wakes up. How could someone sleep like that?

Pushing himself up to be sitting on his hip, Gar whispers his roommate’s nickname loud enough to be heard and a quiet response of Gar’s nickname is heard not a moment after.

“Can’t sleep either?” He asks, a little louder.

With a groan of tiredness, or was it exasperation, Jonathan flips over and sits up, “Nope,” He ruffles his curls, then leans forwards and wraps his arms around his pulled up knees, “I don’t know why.”

“Too much happened today?”

Jon breathes, “Honestly, anything seems logical now.” Shifting his focus to Garfield, a smile tugs at the side of his mouth, “And I mean that in, like, the best way possible.”

Returning the smile, Gar nods his head towards the doorway and puts forth a suggestion, “We could go watch a movie? That might put us to sleep.”

Jon’s brows furrow in question, “Dude, If we can’t fall asleep in silence, how are we going to with sound?”

Gar shrugs, “I dunno, that’s all I got.” Pausing for a heartbeat, he thought about living at the tower and all the sleepless nights he endured; too afraid to sleep in fear his dreams would be corrupted, warp into nightmares about the many horrors he lived through, “If I couldn’t sleep back home I’d sit outside. Count cars and stuff.”

If Jonathan heard his response is purely up to speculation, but by the time Gar finished speaking, Jon was staring at their bedroom window until a light bulb appeared over his head– metaphorically of course, and lips pressed into a proud but mischievous smirk. Whatever idea popped into his head and about to be put into action, he thinks it’s a good one.

Gar blinks, eyes following as Jon throws his blanket to the side and takes careful steps to their dresser, wincing at each floor squeak. Rummaging through the left and right drawers aka his and Jon’s respectively, the green haired teenager flinches out of instinct once his roommate tosses a mixture of clothes at him: a pair of jeans, socks, and a dark green t-shirt with a paw print in the middle, inside the print a design of a foggy pine forest.

Very fitting, Jon. He thought with an amused grin. Before he has the chance to ask what is happening, the blonde teen slips out of their room, holding his own clothes and quietly instructs Gar to get dressed.

So, that’s what Garfield does and prepares for whatever plan Jonathan has in the works. He seems to always have one ready to go, filed somewhere in his brain, for moments like this.

When Jonathan returns, he’s clad in the outfit he’d been carrying: a dark gray shirt under a heavy red flannel coat, and jeans tucked into hiking boots. The most casual Gar’s seen Jonathan look, but still had the flair he expects from the teenager, the glow in the dark ear gauges designed to resemble classic green alien heads replacing the constantly worn pure black gauges being the perfect example. In one hand, a large silver flashlight and in the other, Jordan’s pair of matching boots; over his shoulder was a coat of Gar’s as well. Taking the boots and coat when handed to him, the teen puts both on one at a time while watching Jon open the window, letting a cool breeze inside the already cold room.

“Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing or no?”

Jonathan scoffs, then glances back to Gar over his shoulder with a smirk, “Where’s the fun in that, tiger?” The smirk drops into a frown of apology when Garfield pauses in mid-sliding backpack straps over his shoulders, staring at Jonathan with round brown eyes as if he said something forbidden, “Sorry, man, do you not want to be called that?”

“No, it’s fine.” Gar’s expression softens and sends Jon a reassuring smile, then advances towards the open window, “I just wasn’t expecting to hear that nickname again.”

“You were called tiger on your earth?”

“Tiger-boy, actually.” He corrects.

After switching the bedside lamp off, Gar follows Jonathan and climbs out the window. Lowering from the window ledge to the back porch’s roof, wobbling slightly at the mildly sloped angle when he hands. With a slow and careful hand, he shuts the bedroom window, thankful it made barely a noise when it slid into place.

Behind him, Jonathan’s stride ended at the edge of the roof and sat down, legs hanging over and hands planted firmly beside him in preparation to push himself off. Gar raises an eyebrow, seeing how easy his friend made it look while he had to shuffle sideways awkwardly to descend towards the edge so he didn’t fall.

“I have a strong suspicion you’ve done this before.”

“A few times.” He hears Jon replay, then the teenager disappears from the roof and lands on the ground below with a thump.

Reaching the edge, Garfield mimics Jon’s actions and leans forward, sizing the drop he’ll have to take. Breathing a sigh of relief that the dimming light placed in the porch’s ceiling had enough strength to cast out and illuminate the darkness he had previously thought he’d be blindly jumping into. Heights and darkness wouldn’t be a desirable combination.

Gar gazes at his friend below, where Jon is smacking the bottom of his palm onto the back of the flashlight in efforts to get it to shine. Each failure being responded to with a grumble and Gar couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Why are we doing this again?” He asks out of curiosity, wanting to know Jon’s reasoning; not doubt or deciding against the idea of an adventure at two in the morning. That sounds too fun to pass up.

Jonathan removes his focus for the flashlight to look up at Gar, frown of annoyance stretching into a smile. When the flashlight flickers to life, he directs its beam at Gar, who laughs ‘dude’ and shields his face from light. Lowering the flashlight to his side, Jon chuckles and shrugs simply.

“I think we deserve a night off.”

Chapter 8: The night adventure

Summary:

second base is telling your bestie about your trauma

Notes:

TW: sensitive topics (child neglect)
also boys being cringy and overly flirty, that one's pretty bad too

comments are always welcome and appreciated! I love reading yall's thoughts on the chaos!

Chapter Text

Frogs croaked loudly from the streams and owls hooted ominously from where they were perched in the surrounding trees; their eyes following the two boys below them. The air around the teenage boys filling with an orchestra specially made for night. Leaves crunch under pairs of mud encrusted boots as the roommates strolled along the dirt trail, long stretch of forest to their left and harvested corn fields to their right, accompanied by a small incline leading up to a road being protected by a guardrail, where a single car would pass by every few minutes

Stopping in his tracks, Garfield shifts his focus to the road. The nights he would sit on the street's curb, watching the rows of cars pass by, counting how many of the same colors. It got overwhelming very quickly. People shouting, having loud arguments on the sidewalks. Of course, the other Titans couldn’t be bothered by these noises and sights, they were wrapped in blankets, comfortable and warm, fast asleep, while Gar sat outside. Cold, but not caring enough to throw a coat on. Exhausted but unable to sleep or even keep his eyes closed. Some nights he wondered if the Titans knew what he did and let him do it since they sure as hell couldn’t help him.

He's not sure they even knew how. What happened to him was unlike anything that happened to them, how could they put themselves in his shoes? See and feel like he does? They can't. And he doesn't think anyone but him could.

After shaking the thoughts from his head, he averts his gaze to the side, expecting to see Jon standing next to him; thinking it was odd the other teenager hasn't spoken up or cracked a joke yet. To his confusion, Jon wasn’t beside him and continued along the path without him, like he had no idea Gar stopped.

"Hey!" Gar laughed, then jogged after Jonathan, who halts and turns around to watch him advance closer, "You’re walking like we’re at an amusement park."

Jon huffs a laugh when Gar reaches him, "Have you ever been to an amusement park?"

"Uh," The teenager scratches the side of his face as a smile created from mild embarrassment appears on his lips, "No, but I’ve seen videos." His smile drops into a frown, "I haven’t done much of anything."

Jonathan’s expression brightens as he shoves his hands into his front jeans pockets and shoulders bounce as he bobs on the balls of his feet. An action reminding Garfield of Clark. "Then we should plan a trip to one for next summer!"

Gar blinks, "Next summer?"

The blonde teen's posture tenses, slight hunch straightening and eyes stretch wide. Cheeks flushing red, Jon swallows hardly and begins to explain, blabbering over himself for a moment or two before conceiving a proper sentence.

"That is if– if you’re here for next summer, of course." He giggles awkwardly, then raises in volume, "Not that I want you to be stuck here! It's just- just-"

Now it's Garfield's face becoming red, cheeks and tips of ears warming. Flattered by the thought of Jonathan wanting him to stick around, at least he thinks this feeling is flattery. He couldn’t say he’s experienced a feeling like this before but it was triggered by what Gar considers a compliment (and a big one in his eyes) so he must be flattered.

"Thinking ahead." He finishes for his roommate, putting an end to the blonde teen’s stammering. He was obviously having a tough time speaking, "Best to plan months in advance.. ya know, just in case."

"Yeah, that."

"If the Titans do find me, that means they would have found a way to reach this earth," Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, Gar clears his throat and screws his gaze down to the path, kicking at the dirt with the heel of his boot, "So maybe I could hang out for the summer."

"Really?" When the teenager glances back up, Jonathan is staring at him like a kid who was told they’re going to Disney World. The joy, excitement, disbelief, it’s all there. "You'd wanna come back?"

Gar shrugged as an attempt to look casual about the whole conversation, an attempt that failed quite quickly, "Yeah, I like hanging out with youuu– your family."

Good save, dumbass.

Jon rubs the back of his neck, averting his eyes to something that wasn’t Gar’s face, "I, uh, like you hanging with my family, too."

The silence is a little more awkward than it normally is. He feels oddly warm and not just his face, his whole body feels like he's standing in a beam of sunny light, but it could be because his heart is pounding faster than a rabbit trying to escape the talons of a swooping hawk.

Jon breaks the silence by popping his lips and throwing a thumb over his shoulder, "Keep walking?"

"Yup."

/

It was a simple comment, there were no intentions behind it. Jonathan probably forgot about it by now, but not Gar. Now he couldn’t help but take Jon’s comment into consideration, what if he had been right without truly knowing. What if Gar is still around for next summer? And not because he’s visiting. It would be nine months, that’s almost a year.

And a realization like that brings up a lot of questions.

What happens if Gar is still living with them next summer? Will everything stay as it is now or will things change? He'd be celebrating holidays and birthdays alongside the Kents. Truthfully, Christmas with them doesn't sound bad at all, the Kents probably put more into Christmas than the Titans do, but does he really want to intrude on a special day that comes once a year and their passed down traditions? He's not a member of the family, just some guy that fell out of a portal and if something goes wrong because of him, that Christmas will be ruined forever in their minds.

Garfield’s frown deepens for a moment before another thought pushes its way to the front of his brain, setting the previous one to the side and taking its place. How different would it feel to be excited about something? Like having a hard time falling asleep because you can’t stop smiling, trying to wait patiently for the upcoming day, knowing once you wake up you’ll be beginning a new and fun experience. It’s a day you know you’ll never forget. Every time you think about it the biggest smile appears on your face, all the videos and photos capturing the never forgettable memories.

When have I ever felt like that back home..?

It would be fun– no, it’d be more than fun. There’s no word he could use to describe how he’d feel. It’s nighttime, Clark and Lois are asleep, but he’s downstairs, sitting in the living room with Jonathan and Jordan. All three of them trying to keep as quiet as possible as they excitedly planned out their day: making sure they all wake up and leave at a specific time, what rides and roller coasters to jump into line first, when they’ll break for lunch and other things like carnival games, maybe Jon could use his football skills to win something. What other attractions do amusement parks have? Those haunted and fun houses?

But why would he ever wanna step foot in one of those? Purposely allowing himself to be scared or get lost aren’t exactly his go to things for fun. He’d probably end up rocking back and forth in a corner, unintentionally adding to the strangeness and creepiness of the house. Not even if he went in one alongside Jon–

Suddenly his brain threw him into an imaginary scenario where he and Jon entered a haunted house together, making jokes as they usually do until Gar is jump scared by a loud noise, making him hold onto his friend’s arm and instead of separating after Jon gets Gar to chill (which might as well be Jonathan’s superpower), the blonde teenager says: "You can hold onto my arm if you want. I'll keep you safe." Gar quickly and gladly takes the offer, curling his arm around Jon’s, locking them together and begins to purr loudly--

"Alright, so, which way do you wanna go?"

The fantasy comes to an abrupt end when real life Jonathan speaks and Gar is brought back into reality where he's trudging through the woods, not having a totally normal, platonic moment. Friends can hold hands, right?

Gar shook his head then blinked at Jonathan, "Huh?"

"To where we're going." Jonathan gestures down the path with a head nod, "We could keep walking this path until the turn or-" He does the same motion to shift attention to the road on the other side of the field, "We take the short cut across field and road."

"You're the tour guide, Kent." Gar shrugged, "Which way do you think is best."

"Unless you wanna stay out until, like, the sun comes up, I would go the short way."

Gar smiled, throwing his arms to the side to point towards the field, "Then, lead the way."

---

Emerging from the treeline, the duo accept their second side-quest of trudging through the field's rows of ankle high mud, not a single area dry to spare their poor boots.

Garfield clears his throat, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot." Jon replies with a grunt as he tugs his boot out of a deep patch of mud.

"If I'm still here for summer." The teenager pauses, chewing on his bottom lip, "What would going to an amusement park look like?"

Jon raised an eyebrow, "Look like?"

Gar mused for a heartbeat, deciding on a better way to word his question.

"I mean, what do you and Jordan do? Do you like.. plan stuff out?" He tilts his head to the side, a half-smile hinting a feeling of yearning for the scenario he made up in his head, "That sounds fun."

"Sometimes." Jon smiled, then tapped his elbow into Gar's arm to grab his focus, "Just between you and me, Jordan is kind of a schedule freak."

"I can see it."

"He always wants everything to perfectly match his schedule and gets all uptight if it doesn’t." Jonathan huffs in annoyance, "And if someone drinks too much water and makes dad have to stop at a gas station.” Gar's eyes widened as Jon’s volume raised and threw his arms out, "Which only took, like, ten minutes! I don’t know why Jordan got so pissy about it!"

It fell silent when Jonathan's outburst died down and Gar pressed his lips together then popped them loudly to burst the quiet bubble around them.

"That felt very personal." Gar chuckled, "Do you need to talk about it?"

"No, no, I’m good." Jon laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, face turning red in embarrassment for getting so worked up, "Ya know, I'm shocked you'd even wanna go to an amusement park."

"Why's that?"

"Because I thought you had that whole-" He twirls his hand, "-heights thing?"

Gar does hate heights, he couldn’t look out any of the tower's windows without getting dizzy and panicked. But it might not be so bad if he feels safe, all the proper seat belts and harnesses and there has to be other rides that aren't so high.

Gar shrugged, "Yeah, but it might not be as bad as I think."

Jonathan looped an arm over Gar's shoulder and pulled him closer, "If you try it, you can ride with me." He pats his roommate's shoulder blade and directs a half-smile his way, "I'll keep you safe."

Garfield chuckled once more, blood rushing into his cheeks causing them to burn red and suddenly, the chill in the air wasn't as cold as it had been a moment ago. "This amusement park, it wouldn’t happen to have a haunted house or something like that, would it?"

Jonathan hummed in thought, "I think so? but I thought you weren't a horror person either?"

Don't say something stupid.

"New experiences." Is all he manages to squeak out. Was it a lie, though? Hand holding would be a new experience.

"Okay, well, if anyone touches you, I'll punch 'em so don't worry about that."

Gar smiled, "I don’t doubt it."

The teenager pauses, brows narrowing in thought as a piece of information Jordan told him on the drive back to Kent household from dropping Jonathan off at the hospital enters his mind, brought upon by Jon’s vow of physically harming someone in his honor. His smile drops and concern colors his tone, "Jordan told me you were fighting that guy too and that you might have started it..?"

Jonathan tenses at the question. Gar watched as his roommate swallowed hard and memories of earlier flood back, creating a look Gar couldn’t decipher appear on his face, though he could pick out embarrassment. Whatever that guy said to piss him off so badly, he clearly thinks it was dumb to get that upset over it.

"Uh, he- he just brought up some past shit. That's all." Jon sends Garfield a quick smile before removing his arm from the shapeshifter's shoulder. A smile Gar took no reassurance in. "It's nothing to be concerned about, 'kay?"

Jonathan pats Gar on the upper arm, then leaves his roommate’s side and jogs the dirt incline leading up to the road. Gar frowns as his roommate begin to climb up the miniature hill and grab onto the guardrail.

"If you say so." He murmurs to himself, then follows after Jonathan. Respecting his choice to leave the topic alone.

/

What was he supposed to say? The truth? How crazy would that sound and tonight was supposed to be their night off. A night of fun and relaxation, not: "That guy I beat up? Oh, I beat the shit out of him because of you." Sure, it was more complicated than that. Personally knowing Timmy Ryan's track record with 'teasing', there was a likely possibility that whatever he had to say about Garfield (despite not even knowing his name) was going to be gross and Jonathan isn't the kind of person who'd allow his best friend, or anyone for that matter, to be spoken about in the way Timmy would have.

He knows the walking asshole only brought Gar up to piss Jon off and it worked, Timmy got what he wanted, and it backfired.

A smirk of satisfaction stretches the teenager’s lips, hoping with the utmost sincerity that Timmy is enjoying the bruised jaw and the bear trauma.

You could call Jon many things for getting some sort of happiness from seeing Timmy get a taste of his medicine, but he was a part of the group who tried to remove Jonathan from the football team permanently, so Jon believes his hatred for his previous school's quarterback is more than justified.

But he didn't want to think about that anymore. He can't exactly remember what happened, either because of the damage done to his head or his brain repressing the memory for his own sake, but he didn't need to remember to be emotionally affected. He could feel the panic beginning to form in his chest now, making his heart clench and stomach twist.

Time to change the subject, as that's what his therapist taught him to do: don't constantly dwell on bad things and throw yourself into a panic attack, just take a breath and change the topic to something less triggering.

Jonathan pointed at the backpack hanging from Garfield's shoulder and tilted his head slightly, "What’s in that?"

"Spare clothes." Gar replied casually. The lack of context caused Jon's face to turn red and eyes widen but didn’t have enough time to question before Gar spoke again. "I just realized how weird that sounds. It's for shapeshifting."

"Shapeshifting, right!"

An awkward chuckle parts Jon's lips as he scratches the back of his neck; making a mental note to shave his hair down soon, feeling his fingertips brush against pieces of sunny blonde growing longer than he prefers. And if the hair on the back of his neck is beginning to grow too long, so is the rest. He had long hair once, when he was younger, and made sure every photo of Jonathan Kent with long hair had disappeared from existence. No one would ever see that mistake again.

"Why do you need spare clothes to shapeshift?"

"Because I'll tear through my clothes-" Garfield pinches his shirt between his fingers and pulls the fabric forward to glance down at, "-if I don’t take them off. But if I have to shapeshift quickly, I don’t have time to go hide, undress, then shift."

Jon cocked his head like a puppy trying to understand human speech. That's kind of what he's doing, but trying to understand metahuman powers instead of speech. "So, you’ll have to rip through your clothes?"

Gar huffed through his nose, then dove his hands into his coat pockets, "Yeah, and I would prefer not having to walk back to your place naked."

A smirk curves Jonathan's lips, "Can't blame you." He playfully bumps his upper arm into his friend's, "It's cold."

The green haired teenager threw his head back in a burst of laughter and Jon's smirk shrunk to a half-smile, feeling his cheeks flush but didn't care right now. He likes hearing Garfield's laugh, there's just something about it that makes his heart feel like a cage of butterflies, like someone injected his veins full of sunshine. And he might have just noticed this recently but now it's all his gaze could point out.

When his friend began his fit of laughter, the teenager's head tilted slightly and eyes were drawn to Gar's mouth where Jon could make out Gar's canine teeth were actually canine teeth. Not as elongated as a canine's tooth but longer and sharper than a humans. Gar's explanation earlier replayed in his head when he tried to find a reasoning for fangs, there wasn’t a reason to purr like a cat either, it came with the powers. He guessed that made sense, a lot of animals have fangs, but didn’t know why it took him so long to notice. He must not have been looking close enough.

So much of Gar's still cloaked in mystery, he doesn’t know a lot about him, but could deduce that some bad things have happened to him. Gar didn't need to confirm it either, Jon could tell he's troubled by something unknown to him. A shadow of unpleasant memories looming, always there and ready to hover over no matter how many times you try to swat it away. He knows there’s more going on in his friend’s green head than just missing his family.

The night after Garfield appeared on their earth, Jon woke up in the middle of the night to notice his new roommate missing from his bed. Finding him sitting outside on their front porch, crying and talking to himself, Jon couldn’t quite understand every word he said through the sobs and door separating them but thought he heard: “why did I say that”.

Leaving Gar out there by himself wouldn’t be a Jonathan Kent thing to do, so instead of going back upstairs he made two cups of hot chocolate and joined his new friend outside (after Gar said it was okay, of course. Jon doesn’t intrude). Gar barely said a word that night, but listened to whatever rambling left Jon's mouth and chuckled at one of his comments. Jonathan didn’t intend his comment to be humorous but if Gar found it so, he was more than happy to bring some humor into a gray state of emotion.

And maybe that's why he likes Garfield's laugh so much because despite all the messy shit, he can help his friend feel some sort of happiness even if for a quick moment. Jon wouldn’t know where he'd be today if he didn't have Jordan through the darkest months of his life, always there to listen and cheer him up. And Jonathan has to be that person for Garfield, he'll gladly take the position of "emotional support best friend".

Composing from his fit of laughter with a deep and shaky breath, Gar turns to look at Jon and the bright beam stays on his face, "Yeah, man, that’s the one and only reason."

Jon shrugs with a huff of laughter, "It was the first reason that came to mind."

The smile stays on the blonde teen's face as he watches his friend shake his head and point his gaze down to his– Jordan's -boots.

"My super suit would shift with me, but I think it broke when I landed here." Gar kicked softly at the grass below with the boot's heel, "The paw print in the middle isn’t glowing, so there’s no power and I don't know how to fix it."

Jonathan pressed his lips into a thin line and brows furrowed, flashing back to a day two years ago where he skipped school because of his ex. Peeking around the open barn doors to see John Henry Irons standing at a table next to his RV, head tilted down and focusing on whatever he had been tinkering with that day. Pausing his work when Jon appeared in his line of vision and the two Jonathans (both spelled differently) struck up a conversation, led with Jon commenting on John’s ability to create his steel suit from scratch. It’s super impressive. Jonathan can't even get the toaster to cooperate with him.

"I think I might know someone who could help with that."

/

"Come on, tiger!"

The chain link fence rattles under the unexpected weight attaching to it, using the gaps in the wire like those colorful, fake rocks you'd see on a climbing wall to hoist himself up to the top, Jonathan takes a seat on the rail and nods backwards.

"It's not far from here, just down there."

At the bottom of the fence, Garfield's gaze is dragged away from his friend to the large sign zip tied to the fence, reading very clearly in thick red letters: "No trespassing dusk to dawn." It'd be hard to miss, even from a few feet away. Pointing out the obvious with his index finger, he turns his sights back to Jon and raises an eyebrow.

"A suggestion." Jon shrugs with a semi-awkward grin.

Rolling his eyes at the comment, a matching grin appears on Gar’s face with a bit more playfulness behind it. Backing up a few steps, the metahuman breaks into a sprint and leapt onto the fence, causing it to shake violently and Jonathan's breath to catch in his throat, tightening his grip on the rail to keep from falling backwards. In one swift motion, Gar climbed up and lunged from the top rail, using his hands to catch himself when he landed and quickly switching into a somersault to end up on his feet.

"Whoa.."

Jonathan breathed, swinging his legs over the rail to twist around and face his extremely agile friend, who's action reminded him of a mountain lion. Which makes sense, of course, Gar's got animalistic traits and for a brief moment Jonathan wonders if his friend’s traits were in the same circle as his more alien instincts. There had been an afternoon where he was incredibly bored and oddly decided to drag the bottom of a shovel through the field for longer than he'd rather admit and found out later that day through their father that he designed a large pattern of different shapes that flowed and connected almost perfectly in the dirt. Jordan kept the crop circle jokes going for a week.

"How'd ya do that?"

Brushing the dirt and grass off of his coat sleeves, Gar replies simply, "A lot of training, all by a man who used to be an Acrobat."

Jon tilts his head, "That-" He twirls his finger, trying to recall the superhero name of Gar's father, "Nightwing guy, right?"

"Yeah." Stepping over to the fence, Gar tilts his chin up to gaze at Jonathan and sends him a smirk accompanied by raising eyebrows, "Alright, now let's see you do it."

"Sure!" Jon pipes in fake enthusiasm at the challenge, "If you're prepared to drag my busted ass to the hospital!" He points down, humor disappearing from his tone, "I'll be climbing."

"Want me to catch you?"

The teenager swallows as his grip on the top rail tightens and tips of his ears begin to burn. "Uhh.."

In these recent mornings Jonathan has sat on their front porch, watching Garfield do the chores he'd be doing if he wasn't put on a unexpected, temporary hiatus. Learning Gar hadn't been over exaggerating when he said he had super strength, Jon's jaw falling agape seeing his friend balance two hay bales on each shoulder without a stumble or hint of strain and easily transported them to the barn. Eyes followed his roommate as he repeated the task a few more times, jogging out of the barn to the bed of his father's truck so he could grab leftover bales while Clark did whatever he was doing. Jon didn’t know, he wasn't interested, his attention was drawn elsewhere..

On the landscape! He was admiring the landscape! It was a gorgeous morning, really! Not one you'd expect from October. There wasn't a single cloud littering the sky.

"Yeah, I don’t wanna twist my ankle or anything." He wouldn't twist his ankle. The porch roof he leapt off of an hour ago was taller than the fence he's currently sitting on and didn't even trip or stagger when he landed.

Taking Gar's nod as a sign to go, Jonathan pushes off the railing and free falls for approximately a second before his fall is broken by a pair of out stretched arms. He grunts 'oomf' on impact and the arms curl in, pulling the blonde teenager closer for better support, and Jon blinks up at the rings of green pointed down at him. Kind of feels like they've been here before.

Gaze twinkling with amusement, Gar huffs through his nose and teases, "Still a chicken."

"Put me down."


After another few minutes of walking, the boys finally came upon their destination: a wooden playground nestled in an area of the woods, hidden away from the neat and tidy little park they passed through amongst the trees, unkempt bushes, and other foliage snaking up the support beams keeping the playground above ground. And clearly it had been a long awaited destination to Gar, who dropped to his knees and cheered when they arrived, causing Jon to raise an eyebrow with an amused grin and informs his dramatic roommate that they've only been walking for around an hour, finding his roommate’s reaction to what he’d consider a small walk humorous.

When you’ve been pulled out of school and bound to the property surrounding your house, only allowed to explore the outside the limits occasionally with a special kind of parental supervision, you learn quite quickly that your best bet at escaping boredom is wandering and investigating everything you possibly can on the farm and luckily for him, their farm is huge. Doing a bit of research as well as investigating, now he knows about different bird species and how to identify them. He likes the House Finch, more specifically the males and their speckles of red.

As he strolled towards the fairly aged swing set to take a seat, he hears footsteps trailing behind him and Gar question aloud how Jon found this place, in which Jon replies with a simple but truthful and straightforward answer of “while trying to run away from my problems”. Garfield, no doubt, didn’t get the explanation he was expecting but chooses not to pry by staying silent.

Jonathan plants himself in the swing seat and wraps his hands around the rusting double chains, the teenager kicking at the dirt below to give himself a push. Out of the corner of his eye there’s a flash of green followed by a mild thump and chains jingling aggressively. Next to him, Garfield plopped down in his seat and eyes sparkling with curiosity and some sort of patience were directed solely on Jon like a warrior excitedly awaiting their next quest.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

"Relax." Jon smiles, "That's kind of why I brought us here."

"Okay." Gar hums and averts his gaze to his boots for a brief moment before returning to Jonathan, "How do I do that?"

"Like," Uncurling a hand from the swing chain, Jon reaches over and presses his palm against Garfield's shoulder blade, giving the other teen a hefty push forward to start then allowing gravity to do the rest. "This."

The teenager's heart grows in his chest seeing the curious expression on his friend’s face morph into a bright beam that forms into a smirk as Gar casually shrugs his shoulders. "Alright, I guess I could try and get into the swing of things."

All Jonathan could do was stare, jaw slowly falling agape and sides of his mouth curved upwards. An incoherent noise squeaked through his lips first, then came actual words:

"Woww.." He rolls his eyes to the side then averts them back to his friend, placing a hand on his chest and faking a grimace of pain for dramatic effect, "That one really hurt, Garfield." He lowers his tone to barely above a whisper to convey mock emotional harm, "I felt it in my soul."

Gar snorts.

"Almost as bad as the time I sprained my ankle during a game." A toothy triumphant grin appeared on his face, "I still scored a touchdown, though."

"Hold on," After shaking his head, Gar gestured to Jonathan with a pointed finger and eyes showing a trace of skepticism and concern, "You stayed in the game?"

Jon raised his eyebrows, "Impressed?"

"No, man, you gotta take care of yourself." Frowning, Gar lifts his finger to point at the scar on Jon's forehead, "Is that from football, too?"

Every inch of enjoyment drained out like unplugging a bathtub full of water, leaving his face pale and blue eyes stretched round as if he had watched a ghost rise from the grave. The observation made his skin prickled with shame, a sensation he could only describe as millions of tiny cactus needles poking you from under all seven layers causing an uncomfortable irritation and an overwhelming wave of guilt overtakes, replacing all other emotions

"It's just a scar" is what he's been telling himself for years, hoping someday he'd believe but there's always another voice whispering otherwise in his ear. If it was true, why does the vertical line cutting his eyebrow in half make him feel so ashamed, so embarrassed and vulnerable like someone stripped him of his clothes and pushed him out from behind a curtain and onto a stage, no longer hiding from rows of teenagers - all from his school - now pointing as the gym thunders loudly with laughter.

Mortifying. Completely mortifying. Face burns red and tears build on his eyelids, lungs heave heavy and shallow breath until it abruptly catches in his throat when a strike of pain radiates throughout his forehead and into his ears, creating an high pitched ringing blocking out the roars of mean spirited amusement. Lifting a hand to inspect the pain in his head, Jon presses his palm into his eyebrow then pulls it back, heartbeat quickening to a pace no human would survive as his misty gaze found itself glued to the shiny crimson staining his skin.

It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fa–

"Is.. that not a football injury?"

Garfield's voice grounds the teenager's racing thoughts, bringing him back to reality and becomes aware of the wetness leaking down his cheeks. Had he been crying? He didn't feel it. How long was he silent?

"Oh, my gods.. I'm sorry! I- I didn’t-" The chains next to him rattle as Gar gets to his feet and begins to step away. Though he didn’t get far before being stopped by Jonathan reaching out and grabbing his hand.

"No- no-! It's fine!" Jonathan put on the most genuine smile he could muster up and accompanied it with a chuckle, "You just caught me off guard, that's all."

Gar's frown deepened, clearly not believing Jon's words.

"Seriously, it's totally fine."

Jonathan's smile drops watching Garfield return to his seat and lower his head between his drooped shoulders, averting his gaze so he didn’t make eye contact.

So much for their night off. Anger flickers in the teenager’s chest, not at Gar's actions but at his own for suddenly freezing up. Scaring his friend into thinking he did something wrong. It's a scar, a big one at that, on his forehead. Of course Gar was going to notice it, it'd be impossible not to. You can't hide a scar over your eyebrow like you could on your arm or leg. He's probably wondered about it as much as Jon wondered why Gar’s right ear has a small chunk taken out of the side.

He hears Gar take a breath. "I didn't know." Brown meets blue and upon seeing the tears causing his friend’s eyes to shine there's an odd twitch in Jonathan’s hand, urging it to move forward and use his thumb to gently wipe the tears from Gar's eyes. He doesn’t. Combating the urge of affection by shoving his hands into his coat pockets. Gar rubs his hand over his opposite upper arm. "We're supposed to be relaxing and I think I ruined it."

"You didn’t ruin anyth–" Reassurance attempts are cut short by a large droplet of rain splashing onto the bridge of his nose, causing the teenager's face to scrunch in reaction to the cold and shake his head. Bringing a coat sleeve up to wipe his nose, a soft chuckle that quickly turns into laughter enters his ears and almost instantly the mood is lifted, like lightning purifying the air. There's that sunshine again.

"Dude, your face!"

Jon smiles and tilts his head up to observe the sky hanging over them, "Do you think it's gonna rain?"

"I dunno." Gar replies through a lingering chuckle, "Maybe?"

Dropping his gaze to his lap where his hands rested atop his thighs, fingers slowly curling and nails digging into the fabric, Jon takes a breath and speaks quietly.

"I don’t remember what happened." Out of the corner of his eye he sees Gar snap his head towards him. "I've been told what happened, but I don’t remember myself. My memory has been a little off since then."

"You don't have to tell me." Gar jumps in.

"I want to." Jonathan insisted, "I was gonna tell you at some point, might as well do it now."

Gar frowns but doesn't argue with Jon about his decision. It's his decision to make, after all.

The swing's chains jingle as Jonathan leans back with a sigh, causing the swing to sway gently.

"I guess, I'm kind of glad I can't remember, it probably would have messed me up more than I already was." Daily pounding headaches, panic attacks, and when his depression wasn't keeping him in bed, his intense cases of paranoia were. "I didn't start remembering normally until, like, two months after everything happened. But what I could remember in those two months were.. strange."

After being stuck at the hospital until he finally woke up and stayed awake for longer than two minutes and regained proper function of his body, he returned home and–- he doesn’t know what happened but he does recall random moments where he'd be aware of what was happening around him, then it'd go back to static. As if his brain was an old tv trying to find the correct signal to tap into. And in those moments of awareness his family's faces were blurred out, he couldn’t make out their voice either. Everything had been a weird warped version of his surroundings and the people in it.

Sounds like a good plot for a horror movie if you ask him because it sure as hell felt like one.

It stayed like that for a couple months. He doesn’t know what his parents had to do for him and truthfully, he doesn’t want to know. When his memory did return, he was suddenly sitting on the couch next to Jordan and could see his twin's face for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Jon?" Jordan blinked, gaze sparkling with hope as he and Jonathan made eye contact. Cautiously, he stretched an arm out to place his hand on Jon's shoulder. "Are you there?"

"Jordan?"

Jon shook his head, pushing the memory away, and continues:

"I'm not used to being the center of attention so having my entire family suddenly drop their lives to give every minute of their day to me was odd." He kicks at the ground, causing the swing to move again, "Jordan had always been the one who needed attention, so I mostly did my own thing growing up, which was cool until-"

"People started seeing your issues as unimportant compared to your sibling's and now they expect you to be happy all the time, then when you're not, they brush it off and tell you to cheer up?"

Jonathan snaps his focus to Garfield, eyes round and sparkling with a certain kind of happiness you could achieve when hearing someone perfectly understand your feelings. Something Jonathan isn't really used to even after the years of coddling.

Gar gives a semi-awkward giggle and shrugs, "I can relate."

"I didn't wanna assume, but I kind of guessed." Jon huffs a mini laugh, "You had the 'underrated sibling' vibes. Which isn't, like, an insult or anything."

"I know."

Moving his hand back and forth between him and Gar, Jon explains with a smile. "I can just tell another sibling is like me when I see them."

Sending the teen a half smile that swiftly turned into a frown, Gar sighs. "Sorry about what happened, man. Not being able to remember months of your life seems really sucky."

"I'm okay now, so everything is all good." Sure, it's all good now but that's about all Jon could say about the situation without crying and didn't want to do that. "Let's, uh, switch topics."

About thirty minutes into a lighter, non-traumatic experience based conversation, the roommates discussing back and forth about an upcoming movie they planned on seeing together and whether they were going to buy snacks there or sneak them in like a couple of bad boys have their decision making interrupted by a shower bursting out from the dark clouds above and dumping onto them.

Garfield lifts his chin to glance up at the darkness and blinks droplets of rain from his eyelashes, sending them running down his cheeks.

"Uh oh."

He hears Jonathan assure it wouldn’t rain long and couldn’t help but raise a skeptical eyebrow. Last he heard, Jon wasn’t a weatherman and didn't know anything about weather patterns.

"You think we'll get sick if we stay out?"

Prompted by the lack of response, Gar shifts his focus back to Jonathan. The blonde teenager's head tilted back and mouth open with tongue sticking out to catch rain like a little kid trying to catch snowflakes and Gar chuckles out of fondness for his roommate and ignores the apprehension trying to bury itself in his brain. If Jon's not worried, he doesn’t have to either. Swinging in the rain does sound fun.


Rain poured and the boys scrambled to take shelter under the playground, scooting as far back as possible until their backs met a wooden board. Luckily for them the playground's floor above was made from multiple planks of wood screwed together, no cracks or broken boards allowing more water to dip onto the already soaked teenagers. Best place in sight to escape the unexpected shower that threw quite a big wrench in his plans.

But as long as it lets up and they can make it back home before his parents wake up for breakfast, everything should be fine. No one is going to get in trouble.

"Hey, you know what," Jonathan shifts his sight from the rain to Garfield, who's moving wet hair stuck to his forehead to the side and tucking longer pieces behind his ear. "This was fun! I've never been to a park before. We should definitely come back!" He tips his head to the side, then flashes Jon a half smile. "Preferably when it's not pouring and it's daylight."

Jon matches his friend’s smile, adding a bit of pride behind his, then his mind processes what Gar had said and he tilts his head slightly, "Wait, you've never been to a park before?"

Gar keeps the smile and huffs through his nose before turning his gaze to the rain.

What was so funny about his question? Tonight being the first time Garfield visited a park didn’t sound humorous to him, it’d be sad.

"Before I was transferred to the tower, I was kept in a basement so I barely saw outside.

Thunder rumbles as a forewarning.

Jonathan's gaze widened large enough to rival an owl’s as he slowly turned his head to face Garfield, "You were what..?"

What Garfield had said must have been a slip up he wasn't intending to make because his smile drops and stares back at Jon, expression mimicking a deer caught in headlights. He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by the dark surrounding them flashing, illuminated by a sharp crack lightning, followed by thunder booming throughout the sky like a stampede of wild horses, and the green haired teenager screams.

Scooting away from the gap acting as an opening into the shadows faintly touched by lampposts scattered around, Gar covers his ears and squeezes his eyes shut as his steady breathing becomes frantic.

Jonathan frowns, heart clenching in his chest. He's seen that reaction before. It wasn’t your common fear, it's an intense and overwhelming jolt of pure terror as bad memories flood every nook and cranny of your brain. It's a happening he wishes he could say he's gotten used to experiencing over the last couple years, but that'd be a lie. Can you truly be used to experiencing that? It messes with your head, makes your ability to think logically nonexistent.

Moving closer to Garfield, placing a comforting hand on his upper arm and feeling his frame shake under his palm, Jon sits down next to his friend. I don't know what's going through your head right now but- "Everything's okay, tiger. Just breathe."

His attempts at comfort might be a little simple and lame to some, but too heavy of a gesture like a tight hug or too much talking could make the situation worse. Best to keep things sincere but small. Nothing more than a few soft words and a gentle touch to let the other know you're there. That's what his family did with him.

When Garfield begins to calm down and find his composure, shoulders loosened and breathing slowed to a relatively normal speed, Jon asks about Gar's family and what they did to help him after a panic attack because whatever they did, he could do too.

The response he receives is silence. Gar only stares at the ground with this look in his eyes, it was hard to describe as one emotion because there’s a lot swirling around his brown gaze. But something about this look Jonathan didn't like, not in an alarmed or fearful way but in a concerned friend way. There’s something wrong. He can feel it.

"I lied to you, Jon, about my family. They're not my family." Gar's words are hauntingly numb but bursting with emotion at the same time. Guilt and self-hated colored each word yet they're hollow like he's said those exact words on repeat hundreds of times and maybe he has, just not verbally. "We're glorified roommates. My parents died a long time ago, but-" He shifts a little, "It's not like it matters, they didn’t want me anyway."

Jonathan stays quiet, but feels his muscles tense as if he were upset to hear the words leaving Garfield's mouth. Growing up there were sometimes he felt neglected emotionally by his parents and that was a horrible feeling, but having to live your entire life knowing your parents, the people who purposely brought you into the world, their world, didn't want you there anymore. It's not a feeling Jonathan would ever want to experience, the mental and emotional anguish that'd cause a person.. someone he cares so deeply about, his friend.

There's a twinge of protective fury in his chest but chooses to ignore it since it's pointless. What's he going to do? Fight ghosts?

"I can't even blame them either, ya know?" A faint laugh escapes through the teen's lips as he wipes under his nose with his coat sleeve, "Look at me, I think they knew their son would turn out to be a freak."

"Don't. Don't call yourself that."

He hears Gar take a shaky breath, then twists his neck to look at Jon with a sad smile, "I used to be just like you, a human. I don't remember what it was like, but I bet it was nice. You make it seem nice."

Jonathan bites the inside of his cheek until a copper taste coats his tongue. Drastic measure, he knows, but it's the only thing he could do to stop from telling the truth about his family and what they truly are because they're anything but humans. His father would have his head if he blurted out everything Gar isn’t supposed to know just because he thinks it'd help his friend feel better.

Is there some middle road option he could take? Letting Garfield know he's not a human but not giving him any hints that could point to Kryptonian. Could he say a metahuman too? Yeahhh.. no, Gar would ask about powers and Jon didn’t have them.

"If you weren't always a metahuman, what happened?" Is he allowed to ask that? He doesn't want things to get worse.

The smile disappears and Gar straightens, gaze suddenly more tired than it had been moments ago and stares ahead instead of at Jonathan, almost like he didn't want to see what reaction was going to find home on his face.

Until tonight, Jonathan assumed Garfield had been born a metahuman and wondered what it would've been like to grow up with powers. Turns out what he thought wasn't close to the truth at all, about as far as Smallville is from Australia, actually.

As his friend explains, Jon stays as silent as possible and absorbs his words, letting them sink into his brain like a sponge and every important detail stored away for remembrance. He learned about an already dying ten year old Garfield getting a needle jabbed into his neck, injecting his veins with the liquid that helped create his abilities, passing out, then waking up strapped down to a table in a man named The Chief's laboratory, and everything inside him wanted to stand up, find this Chief man, and beat the shit out him.

Garfield went on and Jonathan felt conflicted about the almost casual but emotionally dead tone his friend spoke in. His words sounded pre-recorded if that makes sense, like he's listening to a tape of Gar explaining the same story for the thousandth time. Like a robot speaking lines they were programmed to say.

For four years Gar, who Chief called ‘experiment 114’, lived in Doom Manor's basement. Apparently The Chief believed Gar's metahuman abilities were too unpredictable and dangerous to allow upstairs, even though he had been the one who purposely created his powers to be that way. Gar admitted he'd sneak upstairs and even outside to explore the nearby town when The Chief would leave to meet up with fellow scientists. Finally building up enough courage to run away from Doom Manor is the reason he met the would-be Titans and when they asked him to join them because they saw potential in him and his powers, he happily agreed.

"Anything to get out of that damn manor." Gar murmurs as he tossed a tiny stone to the opposite side of the shelter. "I stupidly thought everything would be okay after that."

He joins the Titans on their ongoing mission to protect Raven aka Rachel Roth from her demonic father. Almost getting killed multiple times in the process. A crazy, zombie-like family trying to bash his head in and being taken by an asylum made to ‘help metahumans’ that oddly enough already knew his identity and even Niles Caulder’s.

There's a flash of something in Gar's eyes at the mention of the asylum but it was too quick to decipher. He shakes his head and skips over that part of the story, moving onto Titans Tower.

"It was-" Gar shrugs, "-kind of fun for the first three months, then Deathstroke showed up."

Deathstroke? What kind of name is that?

Dick stopped being the caring leader he had been for three months and neglected and ignored everyone in the tower, so obsessed with Deathstroke's reappearance that he practically went crazy. Kory left on her own mission, something related to her planet and kingdom. Rachel rarely talked to him and when she did, they got into an argument over a concern of his and Gar ended up with hurt feelings. And Tim Drake, well he tried to keep the team together but it wouldn’t work.

When Dick came clean about a secret he had been keeping for years, why Deathstroke sees them as a target, the remaining team broke apart, besides Garfield. He had nowhere else to go. He wasn’t going back to Niles or make it easier for the scientist to find him by wandering around, alone. Rachel ditched him without a single hint of hesitation, Tim going with her, and Dick.. He thought Dick was going to stay. Promising he'd be back for Garfield after he took care of something was a promise he intended to break the moment he left the tower.

"He lied to my face, Jon. He never wanted to stay." Gar sniffled, emotion creeping back into his voice. "No one wanted to stay."

He believed, waited like a dog sitting at the front door patiently expecting their owner to return home at any moment. Dick left to right his wrongs, begged forgiveness for his sins, save his team, and thought lying to a teenager to be able to go off and do whatever it takes to ‘fix’ what he did was going to clear his conscience, he'll pay for his sins. Hilarious. The only thing Dick Grayson did was run away, like a coward.

He didn’t save anyone, only himself. He left Gar alone in their haunted tower of cursed memories, a tower that might as well had been a beacon for bad people to flock to like moths to a flame because Gar had only been alone for a few days before the power unexpectedly went out and upon investigating came face to face with the devil, Deathstroke. He remembers feeling true terror in its purest form, freezing like a deer in headlights, when the assassin aimed his gun at him, shining a tiny red dot on his forehead.

A surprise to Gar then, Deathstroke didn’t kill him. The dual colored assassin villain decided quickly that he’d rather use Garfield for bait to get Dick Grayson to come out of hiding so they could finish their game of cat and mouse. There was a carnival coming up and decided to use that as their battleground.

Jonathan's stomach twisted like a clown creating a balloon animal and hot tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He exhales something that sounded like a forced laugh, there's a kind of desperation and disbelief coloring it, he couldn’t believe what is being spoken. He didn’t want to believe his friend lived through a waking nightmare.

"But you’re here so the Titans saved you, right?" God, please say yes.

Gar screws his gaze down, then exhales his nose accompanied by a small shrug, "Yeah, eventually.." He shifts his gaze to Jonathan, a smile hinted on his lips and a tiny chuckle escaping through them. But unlike Jon's, Gar's somehow had humor. It was a bit unsettling if Jon was being honest. "I wasn't exactly their top priority."

"Why.." Jonathan bit his bottom lip, trying to find the right words, "How are you laughing right now? Wha- What's so funny about everything you told me?"

Exhaling a lengthy sigh, Gar folds his arms over his chest, "A lot of shitty things happened to me, they affected me in ways I didn't know were possible, but I try my best to look on the bright side of things. It helps me." There's a faint sparkle in his eyes when he returns to Jon, "And not everything that happened to me is bad. There's good things, too."

Jonathan's brows furrowed in thought for a few seconds before pointing at himself with a questioning expression.

Gar snorts and playfully shoves Jon's shoulder, "Yes, you!"

At last a genuine smile appears on the blonde teenager’s face as his shoulders bounce with soft laughter.

"I've been here for what? a month? and this is the most laid back I've felt in my entire life." A rumble of thunder catches the green haired teen's attention but he continues, "On my earth I had to be a hero, I didn't have a choice. But here," He sighs a breath of relief, "I don’t have to. I can just be-"

"Garfield Logan?"

"Yeah." Gar smiled, "Turns out being regular ol Gar just living on a farm in the middle of nowhere is a lot more enjoyable than waking up everyday thinking I'm going to be shot or stabbed." Jon opens his mouth to speak but Gar cuts him off, "Besides the dire wolf thing. I won't let that happen again."

Jon's lips press into a warm smile, "Well, I'm glad my family could help. You deserve a normal life."

"Ya know, I've been so concerned about the Titans this month." Gar drops his gaze to his fingers as they fiddled with his coat strings, "Feeling guilty if I went a day not thinking about them. I'd be so upset with myself for having fun, I guess, instead of constantly being worried about getting home and what would the Titans think of me-" He frowns, "- pushing them away for a day and allowing myself to live."

That sounded uncomfortably familiar.

"But I think I'm done." Gar says as the previous smile reappears, "The Titans will find me at some point and I'll deal with them when it happens. Until then, I'm ready to see how my life would be like here without all the worry, be a part of your world." He chuckles, "It's not like anyone but your family will know I'm not from here, anyway."

Jon huffs a mini laugh in agreement and adds, "I'll be your tour guide if you need one."

"Definitely."

Another crack of lightning lights up the sky and Gar jumps with a gasp, eyes flashing green. Jonathan frowns, then scoots closer to his friend and loops an arm over his shoulder. The teenager's cheeks warming up when Gar huddles closer.

"I think we're gonna be stuck out here." Gar worries.

"It probably won't rain all night."


Morning sunlight beamed brightly above, lighting up the once stormy skies with a soothing blue and shining rays of warm yellow. A welcome change from last night's thunderstorm, less noise and a lot easier to sleep through. Until it finds the perfect spot in the sky to sit and send its would-be comforting light into your face and can't help but wake up at the heat and spotlight directed at you.

He's in the dirt when he wakes up, laying on his side with arms crossed under his head as a makeshift pillow. Blinking his eyes open, Jonathan groans at the aching pain radiating in his hip and pushes himself up to a sitting position. After rubbing his index finger and thumb over his eyes in efforts to remove the sleep making his gaze blurry, he uses his hand to protect his eyesight - sensitive to the sun due to its light color - from the giant star as he lifts his head to cast it a glance.

The realization suddenly hits like an unseen car and Jon's heart drops into his stomach.

It's morning.

And by how high the sun is, it's not early morning either. His parents are guaranteed to be awake, but whether they know Jonathan and Garfield are missing from their bedroom is unknown. Jonathan swallowed hard. If they are aware of the boys' disappearing act, however, his mother isn't going to be pleased when they return. He could already see the anger in her hazel eyes as she commands Jonathan to march up to his room and stay there for the rest of the day, or the rest of the year, who knows.

I'm dead. I'm so grounded.

If the thought of being led to an early grave wasn't bad enough, his peripheral vision picked up on the lack of green and Jonathan quickly twisted side to side in order to find his friend’s whereabouts, gaze frantically searching every corner of their shelter until it lands on green striped fur curled into a crescent shape further to his left and using a pile of clothes to shield his pelt from the ground. A pile of clothes familiar as they were the outfit Jon chose.

Taking a breath of relief, glad Gar stayed nearby and isn't at gunpoint at this time, Jonathan raises his hand to run his fingers through his hair. Blonde curls no doubt infected with dirt and other earthy materials, it's thought gross enough to make the teenager squirm. Sleeping outside, who knows what he's covered in or what crawled over him. Grounded or not, the first thing this alien boy is doing when he gets home is taking a shower, a boiling hot shower.

His hand freezes before it reaches its destination. Veins normally unseen unless focused on the color were glowing under his skin, not blue but a warm gold. And to Jon’s surprise, he wasn’t alarmed in the slightest by a sight that was anything but human. Maybe it had been his acceptance of his alien heritage or because he was still groggy from waking up but he felt more intrigued than anything else as he ran his opposite thumb over his palm and traced the glow, feeling a strange heat rising from his skin. Jon winces back when a quick but hard to miss flame sparked from the middle of his palm, then the heat glow faded away.

Well, he guessed it was a flame. It had been a fiery orange but also looked transparent and wisp like at the same time.

Jonathan would have sat there, staring at his hand at least until Garfield woke up and stole his attention, but the sunshine is blocked and Jon innocently gazes up to investigate, expecting to see a large cloud passing by. Instead, a familiar face clad in dark jeans and a heavy, tan coat over a white t-shirt stood in front of the boys' shelter with arms tightly folded over his chest. A deep frown of displeasure and frustration curves Clark's lips as he glares down at his son, a flicker of exasperation in the gaze behind black framed glasses

"Uh," Jonathan swallowed, eyes round and heart beat picking up in pace, "I can explain."

Chapter 9: The flashback (Jonathan)

Summary:

Jonathan acts suspicious and Jordan's gonna find out why.

Notes:

TW: mentions of bullying and self-harm, if I need a warning for anything else please let me know.

This is Jon's scar's edgy backstory. I've teased and hinted at it enough, here's the full story.. almost, I purposely left it on a cliffhanger because the hints and stuff from the previous chapters help paint the full picture.

Next chapter is Gar's flashback, then we're back to present day!

(I don't know anything about football)

Chapter Text

[Two years ago]

It wasn’t fair.

There were many words Jordan could’ve used to describe the situation: tragedy, disaster, a life changing event. Hell, what happened had been a crime. But really, it wasn’t fair to his brother. His brother was in the wrong place at the wrong time, got caught in a riptide, and the worst part is there couldn’t have been anything done to prevent what conspired, besides staying in Metropolis. Jordan did whatever he could to help, stretching his arm out as far as it could to rescue his twin but when their hands almost interlocked, his brother got pulled away by the current and Jordan couldn’t do more than watch as Jonathan got dragged underwater.

As long as Jordan could remember his much sunnier twin had been a kind hearted, sweet person who put others needs before his own and was more than happy to do so. Which is a fine trait to have, but you gotta be careful or you’ll end up forgetting that you’re a human too, your needs are just as important as the people you’re helping. Though Jordan couldn’t say he was surprised when Jonathan forgot that but he couldn’t blame him either, it’s what he was taught to do. It was only a matter of time before it went too far and Jon stopped seeing himself as a person with feelings and started viewing the man in the mirror as a problem, a burden, and not to himself but to everyone around him.

Going to school at Metropolis High Jordan saw moments where Cutter and his crew would pick on non-athletic kids, making snarky remarks after he’d ‘accidentally’ knock books or other things out of their hands. Back then Jordan wouldn’t dare speak up against Cutter or step in, but he didn’t have to because he watched Jonathan slip away from the herd of stereotypical jocks and help their fellow student undo whatever Cutter had done while apologizing profusely. That’s all Jonathan did during the school day, clean up whatever mess Cutter made and Jordan was glad the other students appreciated his brother stepping in to help however he could, even if he never protested against Cutter’s actions. He thinks the students knew Jonathan would be afraid of what Cutter would do to him if he tried to get in the way. If Cutter treated his own crew like shit, there’s a high possibility he treated Jon like shit too even though his twin wasn’t truly in Cutter’s crew, just hung around because they were all a part of the football team.

Jonathan had been more of a friend to the entire school rather than sticking to the circle of jocks and cheerleaders. Needless to say he was a very popular kid, but for the right reasons. He’s a genuinely kind person and the other students liked him because of it.

Then, they transferred to Smallville High and everything changed..

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jordan worries, dark blue eyes following his twin as he lumbers slowly next to him with a hand tightly placed on his side, over his hip. "I can help you walk."

"I said I'm fine."

Jordan frowns at the budding exasperation in Jonathan’s voice but there’s a pang of annoyance on his end as well. Is too much to ask that his brother doesn't act like Jordan's justified concern is the equivalent of a little sibling poking you in the head on repeat. It's not like Jon has a tiny paper cut, he's limping and could see how hard his brother was trying not to wince with every step. This isn't a simple injury.

Jordan gasps quietly when Jon stumbles to the side, brotherly instincts triggering arms to outstretch and hands to land on his twin’s shoulders for extra support, keeping him on his feet.

"What happened, again?"

"I fell." Jon breathed.

Jordan’s brows furrow together, “What can you fall off of at football practice?”

As much as he hated it, Jordan could feel suspicion growing the longer Jonathan took to respond, every second that passed in silence only made him doubt Jonathan’s eventual explanation even more. His blonde twin chewed nervously on his bottom lip, eyes screwed down and refusing to meet Jordan’s. A dry wheeze-like chuckle slips through Jon’s lips and he explains:

“I was messing around on the bleachers while the coach took a personal call. Slipped and fell onto my side.”

“Why didn’t you call dad?” Jordan probes for more information, intentions on finding a slip up in his brother’s story. He wasn’t going to accuse Jon of lying unless he had more proof. “He could have got you back here quicker than me?”

“I dunno, little brother instinct?” Jon replies through a toothy smile accompanied by a slight shrug of the shoulders, and Jordan has to fight off the urge to roll his eyes. Jonathan is only younger by five minutes and Jordan doesn’t think that counts as a ‘little brother’.

"Jonathan!"

Their mother's cry interrupts his train of thought. Two pairs of blue eyes watch as Lois abandons her chore of spreading mulch beside the front porch and rushes over to them. Hands being stripped of dirty gloves carefully move Jonathan's hand and lifts his shirt to inspect the damage. Hazel eyes widened at the sight of black and blue painting her son’s side, from where his rib cage ended to where his hip bone started. When Lois’ gaze lifts up to meet her son’s, Jonathan quickly averts his sights elsewhere by twisting his neck to the side. Frowning, she turns her attention onto Jordan and aims her questions at him.

"What happened?"

"He said he fell off the bleachers." Jordan voices the explanation with a shrug.

"It's no big deal." Jon mumbles quietly, diving his hands into his coat pockets.

Their mother's tone hardens as she insists it is, then calls for Clark (who's somewhere outside) to meet them inside and ushers Jonathan towards the porch. Upon entering the house, their mother kept talking but it was nothing but background noise to Jordan, his focus was on Jon. Making a note of every little change in his facial expression, how it warped from annoyance to.. guilt? regret? It's something but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint it.

There's too much going on in his brother’s head to find one emotion, who knows what he's thinking about, Jordan gave up trying to figure it out. It's an enigma. But the fact that Jon is showing some kind of guilt just adds more proof in his eyes. Why would you feel guilty if you truly did fall by accident.

No, something happened at football practice and he's going to figure out what.

/

Dinner is finishing up, their parents are gathering the plates and taking them to the sink, having a hushed discussion about something as they did and by his surprise action, Jonathan might have guessed it was about him. Dining chair’s legs scrape against the floor as Jon pushes back and gets to his feet, announcing he’s going to take a shower in a snappy tone and exiting the dining room before a family member has a chance to add a word about the sudden decision.

Jordan narrows his eyes, watching Jonathan storm away.

No one brought up Jon’s mishap during dinner, keeping the conversation on work and occasionally school related things, like a normal night. So what’s up with the abrupt reaction, no one has spoken much to him since they’ve been home, let alone press about the accident.

Dropping his gaze to the table and drawing imaginary circles on the wood with his index nail, Jordan breathes. “I’m worried about Jon.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Clark tosses a damp dish rag over his shoulder and places a gentle hand on Jordan’s shoulder, sending the teenager a reassuring smile. “This wouldn’t be the first time Jon took a nasty fall.”

A brief smile pulls at the teen’s lips at his father’s good-spirited jab at Jonathan inheriting his clumsiness. Jon is always tripping over his own feet or knocking something over. But now wasn't the time for humorous reminiscing.

“I think he’s lying.” He frowns.

Clark tilts his head at his son’s claim, asking Jordan to continue without having to say so.

“He’s acting weird, like really defensive.”

And that was the biggest tip off. Jon’s gotten scratched and bruised more times than Jordan could count, complaining how he fell in a briar bush or smacked his face with his locker while trying to get it open and it always ended in a laugh. He found it funny so they did too. When it’s not an accident, however, he’ll distance from the family and brush off any concern thrown his way, insisting he’s fine and gets snappy if you keep bringing it up.

There's a change in his father’s eyes. No longer listening, but thinking. He had to notice Jonathan’s defensive attitude, it’s not like his brother is trying to hide it and if he was, he’s doing a bad job. In the ocean of blue, a flash of worry and Clark frowns, turning his sights back to Jordan.

"What do you think happened?"

"I don’t know yet, but I have an idea.” Grabbing his empty plate, Jordan stands from his chair and steps towards the sink. “I'm gonna talk to him about it when he's done taking a shower."

“Just don’t over step, okay?” His father’s voice hardened, letting Jordan know he was serious. “He’s been sensitive towards certain topics, lately.”

“I know.”

Anything starting with a T and ending with an Apy is off limits for Jordan to bring up unless it was to ask how it was and even with that he has to be brief, no pressing for more information than what Jonathan tells him. Never mention it in teasing or insult was a warning from his parents Jordan didn’t really need, he’s not an asshole but understood where it came from. Brothers say dumb stuff when they’re upset.

“I’m not gonna go full Lois Lane on him.” Jordan assures as he finishes washing off his plate, “Just, ya know, normal questions.”

“I heard that.” Lois chimes in.

Jordan turns to his father, an amused smile parting his lips and chuckles softly. A smile Clark returns.

Waiting until his hearing picked up on the shower shutting off and footsteps creaking down the hallway, followed by a door shutting more aggressively than usual, Jordan sprung into action. Proceeding upstairs at a slower pace than hurrying, running his palm along the smooth surface of the stair railing, giving his twin extra time to clothe himself if he didn’t do it in the bathroom already. Outside of his brother’s room, knuckles collided gently against the door and paused, listening for a sound of allowance to enter. But it stays silent, and tries again, differently this time.

“Jon?”

The squeak of a bed, then footsteps that sounded less like footsteps and more like Jon was dragging his feet across the carpet and taking his time to reach the door, an observation that told Jordan enough, able to hear hesitation with each step. Jonathan didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to be bothered, and his decision to stay in his room instead of joining the family downstairs said “do not interact with me” loud and clear. And Jordan is choosing to ignore the ‘do not disturb’ sign hanging in front of him. In fact, not only is he choosing to ignore it, he’s grabbing the sign and tearing it down, refusing to give Jonathan what he wants, Jordan to give up and go on with his night. If Jon believes that’s what’s going to be happening, he’d be dead wrong.

Something is wrong and this time, Jordan isn’t turning a blind eye to his brother’s problems even if Jonathan wanted him to.

The door opens and Jordan couldn’t help but take notice of Jonathan’s appearance. A plain coal gray sweatshirt that’s sizes too big taking the place of what would be a tight fitting, collared t-shirt, bunched up at his elbows to keep the sleeves from hanging over his hands and reaching past the waist area of his black sweatpants. As odd as it sounds, Jordan couldn’t recall a moment growing up where he’s seen his brother wear an outfit prioritizing comfort over style. Jon always protested wearing loose fitting clothing, especially sweatpants, complaining about it feeling like he was wearing a trash bag. But tonight’s decision of comfort might have to do with the large bruise covering his side and not wanting to irritate the patch of black and blue with tight fabric rather than purposely choosing to be comfy.

One other thing that stuck out to the teen was Jonathan’s hair. It’s just laying there, damp and flat, a few sunny curls stuck to his forehead and sticking out in random directions like Jon ran a towel over it until it was dry enough to not drip everywhere and left it like so. Strange. Much like the loose clothing, Jonathan hates having wet hair and will take as long as need be to style his hair until it looks the way he wants it, hogging the bathroom in the process. Towel dry, blow dry, brushing, using very specific products for curls that are too overpriced, he’ll be in there for at least an hour and a half.

So, this – this damp and un-styled pile of hay atop his brother’s head – Jordan didn’t like it.

Jon breaks the silence, “What?”

There’s a tad bit more attitude in his tone than Jordan would have appreciated, but he’ll look past it for now.

He puts on a genuine smile, hoping it'd convince Jonathan he wasn't here as the enemy but as a brother. “Can I come in?”

Jonathan exhales a lengthy breath and rolls his eyes to the side, but steps out of the way to allow Jordan in. When he returns to his bed, taking a seat on the edge, Jon raises his eyebrows and shrugs his shoulders. A non-verbal way of telling Jordan to get on with whatever he wanted to say.

"I wanted -" Jordan dives his hands into his hoodie pocket and shrugs, "- to see if you're okay."

Jon scoffs, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you’re acting strange.” Jonathan’s shoulders tense at that. His frown turns into a scowl and eyes narrow into a glare. It’s a warning to keep his mouth shut, leave it alone, but Jordan isn’t listening. “I just – I just want to know what happened at football practice, man.”

Jonathan huffs, exasperated. “I told you what happened.”

“I know,” He frowns, “But you’re my brother and I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

By the drastic change to Jonathan’s expression you would think Jordan struck the wrong chord. The scowl on Jon’s face dropped faster than a stone in water and coldness in his eyes melted, leaving a look that mimicked a little kid learning Santa isn’t real. Utter betrayal. Mouth falling agape and eyes round, almost like he couldn’t believe Jordan could say such a thing but before he could voice his confusion, Jon’s expression twists again and jumps from the bed’s edge to stand in front of Jordan. Upset again but not in anger this time, like it had hurt him to hear Jordan’s words.

“Do you think I did this to myself?!”

Jordan backs up, “What? – No!”

“I told mom and dad what happened was an accident!” The blonde twin’s voice cracked as it raised in volume and continued as if Jordan didn’t speak at all. A heart pounding at a rapid pace thumps in the boy’s sensitive ears, he could practically hear his brother’s blood pressure rising. “I didn’t- I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Hey, hey!” Jordan grabs Jon’s shoulders, attempting to ground the racing thoughts and bring his focus to him. It’s humorous in almost unbelievable way, if you told him a year ago that he and Jon would have swapped places, he would have thought you were crazy. For years it had been Jonathan with his hands on Jordan’s shoulders, helping him calm down and take deep breaths. Now Jordan is returning the favor. “It's okay! I know you didn’t, I believe you.”

There hadn’t been a time where Jordan didn’t believe Jonathan. The sadness that’d darken his eyes when their mother would refuse to hear him, let him explain his side of the story. The frown of disappointment that’d curve his lips when she’d put an end to the discussion, assuming Jon was scared and trying to talk his way out of their decision. It was too real, watching Jonathan miserably trudge up to his room and stay in there the rest of the night.

Sometimes it feels like he’s the only member of the family who can tell when Jon needs a few comforting words because that what he ended up doing. After listening in on his parents’ conversation – where his mother expressed her concerns about Jonathan self-harming rather loudly while his father tried to calm her down, putting out the idea that they should believe what their son was telling – Jordan headed upstairs to give his brother some well needed company. He’s been going to therapy for most of his life and thought if someone could help prepare Jon for his first session, it’d be him, and hopefully ease some of his fears, Jordan knows how overwhelming they can be.

Once he took in Jordan’s reassurance, a familiar smirk tugged at Jon’s lips. “So, what? Did mom and dad send you up here to get information out of me?”

Jordan chuckles, retreating his hands and crossing his arms. “No, just me. I don’t think they’re too worried.” He shrugs, “I wouldn’t worry.”

Jon’s smirk disappears for a brief moment before returning as a plain smile, not much emotion behind it. Scratching the side of his face, eyes avert to the floor. “Right, of course.” He pauses, gaze lifting to Jordan once again. “Are we, like, done? Because I need to look over some plays.”

“Yeah, just wanted to check in.”

Giving Jon a swift pat on the upper arm, then turning on his heel and heading towards the doorway, Jordan halts before both feet are out the door. There’s one more thing he needed his twin to know, he doesn’t know why but it was important– or his brain thought it was. Taking a breath, expecting a protest, he twists around and faces his brother once more, who’s already crawled into bed and is scrolling through his phone.

Thought he had to look over plays?

“Hey, Jon.” His brother hums in response, eyes glued to his phone screen. “If you need to talk about anything, my door is always open.”

To his surprise, there wasn't any defensive protest, just another soft hum Jordan took as a “I’ll remember that.”

/

Jordan didn’t know how long it’s been since he spoke to Jonathan, he hasn’t been counting the minutes, but does know his parents went to bed a while ago and that it’s a weekend so he didn’t have to go straight to bed. Using the free time for some much needed relaxation, running between high school and training at the new fortress with his father is a lot to handle throughout the week and gratefully appreciates these couple days off from both.

With earbuds buried in each ear and eyes turned down to the sketchpad sitting atop his crossed legs, you wouldn’t have thought he’d notice Jonathan standing in the doorway but he did, something in his mind told him to lift his gaze. Taking a single bud out, he acknowledges his brother’s appearance with a simple and curious: “Hey.”

Leaning against the doorframe, Jonathan shifts uncomfortably and when he speaks, the words roll off his tongue awkwardly, like he didn’t know what to say or how to say it. “You said your door was open.”

Removing the other earbud and setting the sketchpad to the side, Jordan scoots backwards to give his brother room at the end of the bed to sit. A signal Jon took correctly without his twin having to voice it and sat when it was open, crossing his legs and keeping his gaze focused on his fingers picking at the sweatshirt's wrist collar; waiting for Jordan to speak first.

Jordan frowns, “Are you okay?”

Jonathan gently shook his head.

He didn’t want to bring the situation up for the hundredth time today but couldn’t help himself. It had to be what was wrong. “Is this about football practice?”

"It was my fault." Jon's response is quiet, breathy, as if it had been a weight on his chest and it finally lifted, filling his lungs with the air they craved.

"What was?"

Dragging his gaze up to Jordan, eyes shining with built up tears, Jonathan exhales through his nose and explains without the pause of hesitation Jordan is used to when it comes to Jon opening up, causing apprehension to flicker in the boy’s chest. Whatever happened must really be bothering him to open up that quickly, or he’s taking his therapist’s advice.

The final game of the season was on the horizon. The Crows’ evening of practice had been wrapping up when Coach Gaines started clapping slowly but loud enough to get the team’s attention, announcing that he had a challenge for the competing quarterbacks: Jonathan Kent and Timmy Ryan. A simple enough challenge, whoever scored a touchdown on the opposing quarterback’s end zone first wins and the winner gets to be the starting quarterback in the final game of the season.

This was going to be too easy for Jonathan. He's the best damn quarterback the Crows have, according to the coach. Ryan might have been a good enough quarterback before Jon joined but this city boy is going to be the reason the Crows finally win their final game. Who puts his team on the top. And hadn’t been a surprise when Ryan dragged him to the side and threatened him, warning that he’d make sure Jonathan didn’t play in the game if he showed him up during this challenge. Just allow Ryan to win so he could be starting quarterback and Jon would be spared. Spared. What a bunch of bullshit. Ryan sucks at his job and he knows it, that’s why he had to threaten a fourteen year old to get what he wants. And what he wants, he’s not getting. Ryan can stay angry and sit on the bench the whole game. It’s called payback.

The challenge began and Timmy was given the ball. Jonathan could have won without having to do much to his fellow quarterback, stealing the ball from him would have been easy but he made sure to go out of his way to show how much better he was in comparison and purposely knocked Ryan down onto his ass with – he'll admit – too much aggression, but then he didn’t care, and scored the guaranteed win.

“He beat you up.” Jordan didn’t need his brother to finish his retelling, he could fill in the blanks.

Jon nods slowly, then scowls. “I shouldn’t have apologized..” but the scowl quickly fell into a frown, “I shouldn’t have been an ass either. I made it worse.”

Timmy Ryan. Their father always told him and Jonathan they shouldn’t say they hate anyone, words can do more damage than they think. But Ryan? He’s an exception to their father’s warning. Jordan does hate him. How he treats his brother, what he says about him during the day, like he’s trying to get the entire school to turn against him. Ryan’s big brained reasoning for bullying his brother? Jealousy. Jealous that Jonathan outshined him on the field almost immediately once he joined the team and can kick his ass so easily. This fancy city boy, who’s shorter and younger, is better than him. And Ryan doesn’t like it. Since they’re so new to the high school, Jordan didn’t know how the social hierarchy had been before they moved to Smallville but by the over reaction to Jonathan, he guessed Timmy used to be the top dog.

Remember how he said in Metropolis Jonathan was the friend to the whole school? Other than some of Cutter’s crew, everyone seemed to like Jon and thought he was charming, or funny, or kind, Jordan’s heard it all. He fit in and Jordan didn’t, that’s why he had been singled out. Then Smallville High is where the impossible (or what Jordan thought was impossible) happened.

In the sea of camouflage, dirty boots, and lots of flannel, Jordan fit in. Not only because of the popularity he gained during the few months he played football but because he was like them. He didn’t stick out like he did in Metropolis, he blended in nicely and thanks to Sarah, even broke out of his shell more than he could have expected and made friends despite his social anxiety. But you know who didn’t fit in? Couldn’t blend in? His brother. Jonathan stuck out like a golden retriever in a pack of coyotes, so that made him a target. The teenagers here didn’t like the pretty boy with earrings and styled hair, and making it very clear they thought he dressed like a Ken doll. Asking him “who are you trying to impress?” or calling him “fake”, amongst other things Jordan didn’t want to repeat, daily.

Not everyone bothered him, there are plenty of teens who like him and send him a few compliments, but the groups of idiots who think he’s inferior compared to them make their presence loud. And one of the teenagers in that group is Timmy Ryan; he might as well be the leader of the “we hate Jonathan Kent” club. How badly Jordan wanted to connect his fist with Ryan’s face every time he made some rude comment about his twin, whether about his appearance or personality. It's a struggle, fighting the urge to kick him in the shin.. with super strength. Of course, there was a lot more than that. Pouring an entire bottle of red Gatorade over Jon's head during lunch when he was wearing a mostly white hoodie and the rumor that started after Tag Harris was taken by D.O.D, but Jordan isn't gonna go into detail about that one.

He tried to convince Jonathan to tell their parents about the harassment so he could get help but Jon argued their parents didn’t do anything when they found out Jordan was being bullied in Metropolis so why should he believe they’ll do anything for his situation. As much as he hates to admit it, Jon was sort of right. But now, after this? Their parents have to know.

Almost like he knew what Jordan was thinking, Jonathan speaks up. “You can’t tell mom and dad! They'll pull me from the team!"

"And I'm supposed to let you be messed with until we graduate?" Jordan argued with a slight narrow of the eyes.

Jon's frown deepens, "Jordan, football is all I have here.” Eyes are glossy, pleading, as the tears built up run down his cheeks, “Please. I’ll fix it, I'll tell someone. Just not mom and dad..”

Jordan takes a breath, shifting his gaze to the side. Jonathan might have been able to persuade him not to tell their parents the first time, but not this time. He should have told their parents before it got to this point.

That’s on him.


This is why Jonathan had to debate with himself for hours on whether he wanted to tell Jordan what happened or not, because there were only two roads he would be traveling afterwards. Road one, Jordan would let Jon handle the situation himself or road two, Jordan would tell their parents. He took a risk, crossing his fingers to travel road one, but by where he is now, you can guess what road he had to deal with. Sitting on the couch while his parents stood over him with arms crossed and mom shouting like he's at fault and maybe for the bruise he was. Everything else, however, no. But he's not the victim in their eyes because he should be smarter than to let kids bully him, fight back.. as if fighting ever got him anywhere besides grounded. Doesn't he know he's the stronger, mature brother who should be looking after Jordan throughout the day like he's told and not getting harassed by guys twice his size just for breathing too close to them.

How dare he allow himself to be bullied, he's supposed to be better than that. He might as well apologize now so he can get on with the rest of the evening.

"How long has this been going on?!"

Icy eyes flicker up to his mother then back to the tip of his thumbnail that he's been chewing on since he's been put on trial. "I don’t-" His leg bounced out of habit and against his will, creating a gentle but continuous thump as his heel hit the wooden floor. "I don't really remember."

His mother opened her mouth to reply, however his father swiftly stepped in to ask his own question. Spoken much softer than his mother's and colored with enough concern Jonathan could pick out amongst the disappointment. "Is this the first time one of them harmed you physically?"

Jon shook his head, a motion that earned a gasp from his twin, who scrambled from where he stood on the stairs to the living room; standing next to their father. "What was the first time?!”

Clark places a hand on Jordan's shoulder, then repeats the boy's question and re-words it in a calmer, less demanding tone. "Are you okay with telling us what happened?"

"They just-" Jon shrugs, hoping if he acts no big deal, they'll treat it as such. "Threw a football at my face." He forces a chuckle. "It was a good throw."

"You told us the football thing was an accident." The anger in his mother’s voice made the teenager wince, dropping his gaze to floor boards in shame. He didn’t – he couldn’t look at her, see the tears causing her eyes to shine. “And you told us earlier that you fell!” Voice lowering to a pitch that could send chills up any child’s spine, Lois takes a step closer; arms still crossed tightly over her chest. “What else have you been lying about Jonathan?”

“Nothing.” Jon mumbled.

“And how do I know you aren’t lying now?” Lois challenged.

“I’m not!”

Clark chimes in, “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

While he did appreciate his father’s composure during this fiasco, Jon thought it was a bit humorous in an ironic way that the man who barely says a word to him on a daily basis is asking that question.

“Because I knew you wouldn’t care.”

Lois stares, taken aback by the sudden attitude. “Excuse me?”

“You didn’t care when Jordan was being messed with,” His gaze adverts to Jordan for a moment, "So why should I believe you’ll treat this differently?”

“We would have handled it.”

His mother is growing impatient now, he can tell. It’s more than likely him who’s the target of her anger, after all. She’s waiting for him to apologize for lying, admit he’s in the wrong for keeping all this to himself, and promise he’ll do what he’s told. She might be upset with him, but he’s upset with them too. Jordan spilled everything and what do you think happened? His parents asked if he was okay? Comforted him in some way? No. He was dragged in here and put under an interrogation spotlight. They won’t wonder why he felt the need to lie, even though he told them why. Somehow it’s spun around so he’d be in the wrong.

Clark sighs, “You should have come to me or your mother right away.”

“Ya know, that’s funny coming from the guy who’s never home.” His father’s mouth fell agape at that but Jonathan got to his feet and continued before he had a chance to defend himself, “When you’re not flying laps around the milky-way, you stop here for a minute just to get Jordan and leave again!” Jon’s eyes narrow into a glare and throws his arm out to gesture to his brother, “By the time you and Superboy here are finished training or whatever the hell you do, it’s too late for anything!”

“You don’t take that tone with your father–” Lois begins to scold but pauses when Clark rests a hand on her shoulder, a touch she took as Clark saying he was going to handle the outburst.

“Too late for what, Jon?”

“Me!” He hates how desperate he sounds, the way his voice cracks. You could practically hear the tears blurring his vision. “I just– I want to be included!” Pausing with a shaky exhale, his volume lowers and adds. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to play football, go fishing, or something, but you’re always busy."

Deep down, he knows it’s selfish to wish his parents attention would be on him when Jordan needed it more for obvious reasons. Powers weren’t exactly something Jonathan obtained through his hybrid dna, he obtained nothing from his father’s side, actually. Even compared to his human mother, he’s painfully mundane. It didn’t matter how many times or how hard he tried to convince himself that being un-extraordinary in a family of superhumans didn’t mean he was lesser than, he never believed it and he never will. You couldn't when everyday is a reminder you live in the shadows of three people. If you escape one, you fall into the other.

"I thought after–" It's a habit, glancing at the small scars decorating his knuckles when he feels like he's done or said something stupid. A reminder of night he busted them against his dresser and the domino effect it caused. It was stupid, he was stupid. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jon takes a breath then aims his glare at his mother. "But no one asked how I was feeling or why I did it in the first place, you just shipped me off to a therapist so she'd do your job, and she's a helluva lot better at it than you!"

Lois winces, her stern expression finally changing to one more of a mixture of surprise and hurt.

He's not lying. As one of his first sessions was wrapping up, Dr. Wiles let him know he could send her a text if he felt like he needed someone to talk to and while walking home from school a few days later that's what he did. Reaching town, he took a seat on his grandmother's bench and spent a good forty minutes texting back and forth with Dr. Wiles, venting about the shit he experiences throughout the school day. He knows it's her job to listen to him talk but couldn’t deny the sense of relief and happiness he feels when he hears his emotions and thoughts be acknowledged, but then there's the pang of sadness that follows. He's never felt this heard, this seen, with his parents.

"You don’t listen to me! Whenever I have a problem you just pat me on the back and shove me away!" He runs a quick hand through his hair, huffing in frustration. "Am I that unimportant to you? Do you even care about me! Because sometimes.." The anger dwindles, shoulders un-tense, and fists balled at his side release. A softer, more tired tone replaces the last and Jon screws his gaze down, avoiding eye contact. "It doesn't feel like you do, either of you."

It's not my fault I don't have powers.

It's his mother that speaks first, speaking barely above a whisper. She's heartbroken, in disbelief, he can hear it in every crack of her voice. "Is that how you really feel? Like we don't love you?"

When Jonathan lifts his gaze he's met with three pairs of round eyes staring at him and suddenly, he feels small and panicked, like a trapped mouse. Guilt in an overpowering wave washes over him, causing his heart to pound so rapidly in his chest he's sure his father could hear every beat as if it was his own. His mind was screaming at him, asking why he said those things. How did they leave his lips so easily, so aggressively? He's kept his thoughts to himself for so long and now he's said everything. Everything he didn’t want them to hear, to know.

He had to get out of here, away from his family's eyes. Breaking into a sprint, Jonathan grabs his coat from the hall table and flings the front door open. "Jon!" He hears Jordan call as a rush of cold late evening air crashes into his face, a stark difference from the insulated warmth of his house. Racing down the stairs, he half expected Jordan to be following close behind but he wasn't, probably being stopped by their father because there's no way his twin would stay put if he had the choice.

Fine with Jonathan. He didn’t want Jordan to follow him, didn't want to talk or explain. He wanted to be alone, away from everyone in that house for a few hours. There had to be somewhere in this town a teenager could hide because he can't run forever, somewhere even his dad didn't know about.

Every inch of his body ached when he came across his unplanned destination. An aged, overgrown playground, large and wooden, accompanied by a rusting roundabout covered in strings of ivy and a few sets of swings, aging like the rest of equipment but appearance didn’t look as run down.

Chest heaving deep, shaky breaths, the teenager drops to his hands and knees and crawls under the playground; taking no mind to the dirt coating his palms. Scooting backwards until his back collided with a wooden board, Jonathan tries to take a controlled breath to slow his heart rate before it explodes. Knees are pulled up his chest and arms wrap around his legs as a makeshift hug, tilting his head forward and pressing his forehead into his knees, he emits a soft whimper.

Minutes later there’s a muffled vibration from his coat pocket. Lifting his head to investigate and unwrap his arms, diving a hand into his occupied pocket to retrieve his phone. Squinting at the brightness that's been amplified by the dark, the text on shining on the screen talked about meeting at the water tower to hang because the sender was bored. Inspecting the sender's contact wasn’t really necessary, he knew who it was, just thought it's a little odd she's texting him at this time.

Thumbs tap against the screen, replying with a simple "I'll be there". He couldn’t sit here all night, let alone fall asleep– neither would be comfortable. But he didn't want to go home either, not yet. Walking next to Teagan as she complains about the most petty things might be a good distraction. He could only imagine how nice it must be to have 'my heel broke and my mom won't buy me a new pair' as the biggest struggle in your life. He doesn't wear high heels but if he had the choice between broken heels or almost becoming an RV's wallpaper as an issue in his life, he'd choose the heels.

"Jonathan?" Teagan pushes off of her car's hood and begins to step closer to the teenager advancing towards her. "You look awful."

"Thanks!" Jonathan piped in fake enthusiasm through a forced grin. Was it the tear tracks coming from his red eyes or the dirt covering his hands and pants that gave it away? "My night has been shit."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." She frowns, "Want to talk about it?"

As Teagan finished speaking, Jon watched her hand slowly reach for his to hold. Eyes narrowing, he tore his hand away before she could touch it and shoved both hands into his coat pockets. Teagan made it very clear early on she didn't want a relationship more than friends and he respected that, not wanting a romantic relationship either. So he's not going to let her touch him like they're in one and as of lately, Jonathan has been less of a touchy, feely type of guy. Unless you truly meant something to him, keep your hands to yourself. No hand holding, no hugging, stay in your lane.

"No, I don't." Jon shoulders past the young woman, beginning his stride down the gravel road. "Let's talk about something else."

Following Jonathan, Teagan walks at his side and smiles. "My cousin adopted a puppy, she's pretty cute. She's all white so they named her Marshmallow."

Now that's a conversation Jonathan Kent wants to be a part of! "You got any pics?"

The smile grows wider on her face as she pulls her phone out, "Lots!"

After almost twenty minutes of normal discussion and his mood beginning to lighten, he should have realized something was off. It's never this easy, yet he foolishly hoped tonight would be. That's why when Teagan unexpectedly cut him off mid-sentence by grabbing his upper arm he didn’t protest and listened to what she had to say. This grab wasn't one of comfort or affection, but of urgency and could tell the difference.

Her brown eyes are round, panicked as she stares up at him. "Jonathan, you gotta get out of here."

Jon tilted his head slightly, "What?– Why?"

"I'm sorry, they paid me." Tugging at his coat arm, trying to get him to move, Jonathan thinks this is the most emotional he's ever heard Teagan. She's scared; not for herself, but for him. "I tried to get them to call it off! They won't listen to me!"

"Wait, wait, what the hell are you talking about?"

Should he feel scared too? What's he supposed to be scared of? Truthfully, he's not sure he has enough energy left in him to be scared.

Opening her mouth to explain is promptly interrupted before she could even squeak a noise by another voice. A voice that made the color drain from Jonathan's face but blood start to boil in his veins, as well.

"Hey Kent."

Coming from the way he and Teagan previously came, with his fan-club at each of his sides, Timmy halts in his tracks before he becomes too close to Jonathan, wanting to keep distance between him and the punk that took what he believes was rightfully his.

Jonathan took a step back, keeping his gaze glued on the familiar group of teenagers. The ones that turn what would be a regular school day into an exhausting nightmare. He's not even scared to go to school anymore, just annoyed and tired. Right now, however, he might be scared. There's people around at school to witness what happens to him, but not out here. It's night, they're on a backroad that led to nowhere, and Jon didn't like the baseball bat being held in Timmy's hand. If something happens to him out here, he's going to be left in the woods or tossed in a ditch.

What was he supposed to do? Out run them? No, he doesn’t have enough adrenaline left to make it very far. His best bet would be to call his father, these assholes would shit themselves if Superman landed out of the blue to protect him. They might even leave him alone if they thought Superman could step in at any moment. One problem, though. There’s not enough time to call his father's phone and if he could, there's no guarantee his father even had his phone on him. And Jonathan hadn't been given an ELT, in the past he used Jordan’s but his brother isn’t here to lend it. Last option would be calling for Superman with his voice (he knows he couldn’t shout "dad"). But he hasn't had any permission to do such a thing, doesn't know if he's allowed. If he calls for Superman and the Man of Steel shows up, it might be too suspicious and he refuses to be the reason his family gets exposed to the world.

And after everything he said to his family, to his father.. Superman might ignore his cries and not show up. The realization that his father wasn't coming to protect him would hurt like hell but Jon would understand the decision. He started his whole mess, yelled at everyone, said things he shouldn't have to their faces.. Maybe he deserved this.

Resting the bat over his shoulder, grip tightening around the handle, a wicked smile stretched across Timmy's face and malice colored his gaze as it narrowed.

"I told you, Jonny-boy.. You aren’t playing in that game."

.
.
.

Jonathan doesn't remember anything after that.

Chapter 10: The flashback (Garfield)

Summary:

Gar confronts the Titans' leaders

Notes:

TW: blood, mention of murder

I'm so sorry this took so long besides getting a lot of headaches, I had no motivation to write the Titans.. like at all. My brain is on the Kents and the Kents only lol so I'm very happy the next chapter is back to present day

(comments are always welcome and appreciated! I love reading yall's thoughts on the chaos!)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

[One month ago]

Everyday.

Everyday it's the same thing.

Wake up, train, breakfast, sit in the tower's security room until dinner, shower, sleep, and repeat. For his life to get any simpler, any more boring, he'd have to never step foot out of his room. When the Titans began their return to San Francisco from Gotham. In the damned city though, the team met Conner. A clone of Lex Luthor and Superman, who was sent to the city in Superman’s place to help take down The Scarecrow as Kal-El was busy off-world. Conner had a dog too, Krypto, who was also Kryptonian.

Not long into their mission, Kori’s sister Komand’r appeared and Conner instantly fell head over heels for her. When The Scarecrow was defeated, Conner decided not to join the Titans after being offered the chance earlier and assisted Komand’r in her attempts to reach Tamaran to begin her reign instead. Krypto went along as well, leaving Garfield with no one to buddy around with. Sure, Krypto is a dog but he can understand animals so he'd have someone to talk to.

He knows how crazy he sounds wishing a dog stayed so he could have company but there was not a single chance Conner would have decided to return to Titans Tower. He's in love and wanted to stay with Blackfire because of it. Gar guesses he understands the decision to a certain degree, he's never been in love, let alone have a serious crush but he imagines it's nice. The couples he does know make it seem like having a relationship is a pleasant experience..

Gar really liked Conner and Krypto, they gave him someone to pal around with. Conner was cool too, much cooler than Garfield, in his spiked leather jacket and red tinted sunglasses, with a sick hair cut and pierced ears. It was nice having someone to talk to when the rest of the Titans did their own thing as they usually do.

Now they’re all back at the tower.

Rachel and Tim are off skipping around the city, getting into Fate knows what kind trouble while Dick and Kory are busy with whatever they chose to focus on today and if they’re not doing that, they’re away on one of their overnight dates.. So, where does that leave Garfield?

Sitting in front of the tower’s security computer, that’s where; waiting for a crime alert. It’s boring and really just a waste of time, but it’s the last thing he has left that makes him feel like he has some sort of purpose on the team. Going along with Dick and Kory definitely wasn’t an option, it’s not like he’d want to anyway, he could feel the vomit coming up his throat now. And Tim and Rachel? He could tag along with them if he’d been invited. Whenever the important things are done like training and lunch, they rush out of the tower, laughing and eager to begin their next adventure. Does it really count as an adventure if Dick calls you every twenty minutes?

Anyway, if an invitation had been thrown his way, he’s not sure an acceptance would be his answer. Does abandoning this room for an afternoon sound nice? Absolutely. His worries, however, might not let him do so even if given the chance. With an exception being Gotham, Garfield hasn’t left the tower in months, only stepping foot outside to aid the Titans confront a criminal. Though most of the time he’s not needed, Starfire, Nightwing, and Raven are more than capable of handling the villains themselves. It’s not like they live in Gotham or Metropolis, San Francisco isn’t exactly crawling with super villains. Unless Killer Moth counts.

If he's able to push away his fear and go for a stroll downtown is a decision he’s going to have to make quickly because the teenager's focus on the large screen above him is promptly interrupted by noises echoing from behind him, inching closer with every footstep and thanks to super senses he didn’t need words to identify whos about to enter the security room.

"Hey, Gar!" Tim greets cheerfully, appearing on one side and hand grabbing the top of the chair.

While Rachel appears on the other, "Kory asked us to go grab coffees, wanna come along?"

Inhaling a deep, elongated breath, Garfield tilts his head forward and presses his face into his palms. Dragging the tips of his fingers down to rub his eyes in attempts to rid the tease of tiredness. The chair squeaks as he leans back and drops his hands to his lap. “Yeah, sure.” He really should get out of the tower.

“You look exhausted.” Rachel comments as Gar rolls the chair back and gets to his feet.

Tim frowns, “When was the last time you left this room?”

Garfield shrugs, “Last night.”

Earlier in the day, emerging from his bedroom, laughter echoed down the hallway. Distinct and familiar even in the moments of overlap. Upon entering the kitchen, the teenager’s curious gaze finds the team’s leaders rather quickly.

There’s a generic pop song playing from the radio set on the countertop being drowned out by noises of joyful amusement, a bright beam stretched across Kory’s face as she was twirled, swift but elegant, until pulled in and her back collided gently into Dick’s chest. They continued to dance, synchronizing their footsteps and graceful motions to the beat of the music, like a pair of ballerinas, until coming to an abrupt halt when noticing Gar watching. Telling the couple he'll be out of their way quickly, wanting to grab a waffle and return to his room, but offers to make breakfast for them all if Dick and Kory want to join. To the teenager’s disappointment but not surprise, the adults denied and left to begin their daily activities. Before he stepped away, Dick ruffled Garfield's hair, an action that the boy used to playfully protest against. Now it made him frown and roll his eyes when the leader disappeared.

It's not really important to his decision making, but it's the main reason he remembers he did leave the computer room last night and slept in his room. Moments like that, interrupting the routine, help him distinguish the days since they've been blending together as of recently and if he's being completely honest, he doesn't know what day of the week it is. It might be Wednesday.


Trailing behind the two teenagers lost in discussing some show, or maybe it was a book? He couldn’t tell, it could be either, but did know he had no knowledge of it. Nothing sounded familiar.

Hunched over and hands shoved into his jacket pockets, Garfield couldn’t help but huff through his nose in budding irritation towards his teammates.

If they were going to huddle together and cut him out of their conversation, why did they invite him? Just to be reminded he doesn’t have a place in the team anymore?.. No, they wouldn’t do that. They’re enjoying each other’s company, glad they found someone to share their thoughts and interests with, and Gar’s happy for Rachel, he really is. She needed a friend like Tim, someone to make her laugh and smile when things are rough, a light to swim to when the darkness floods. Gar used to be that person, the one Rachel would seek out when she needed to hear a cheesy joke to cheer up, an ear to listen, or a shoulder to cry on. But he couldn’t be that person anymore, he can’t be the friend she needs, because who she met almost a year ago isn’t the same person now. How could he be? Too much has happened, too many things haunt him every day and night. The bright smiles, the fits of laughter, the jokes..

He couldn’t fake them now. Not when the person in the mirror looks like him.

Taking a breath, he shook the thoughts from his head and averted his gaze elsewhere. Eventually landing on a younger man climbing out of the passenger side of a car parked on the curb, the man freezes before he could stand when he becomes aware of Gar's gaze on him. Eyes grew round and jaw fell slightly agape, staring at the green haired teenager. A certain look that's been directed at him before, but never from a stranger getting out of his car. Like a panicked rodent staring up at a hawk circling above, waiting patiently for the right time to swoop and sink its talons into the tiny creature below.

A predator and prey.

Garfield put on the most genuine smile he could muster in the moment, trying to ignore the odd stare, and removed a hand from his pocket, raising it as a "hello". To the teenager’s confusion, not only didn’t the man wave back but scrambled back into the car and slammed the door shut. Wincing at the slam, Gar’s smile drops to a frown and he lowers his head into his shoulders, hurrying after Rachel and Tim.

“There’s a huge line inside. You guys wait out here, I’ll get the drinks.”

As Tim agreed to Rachel’s proposal, Garfield leans back against the cafe’s outside wall, paying no mind to the bricks rough texture scratching his skin through his jacket as he slides down a few inches while exhaling a deep breath. The voices of his travel companions fade away to the back of the teenager’s mind and he stares at the opposite side of the street, eyelids drooping halfway, and watching crowds of people stroll by.

It wasn’t until a couple on the sidewalk advanced closer did his focus return to his side of the street, eyes being drawn to the couple’s interlocked hands, the way their fingers stayed curled together in the movement, swaying back and forth in almost perfect sync. There’s a pang of an unknown feeling in the teenager’s chest and hands twitch at his side, he brushes it off with a head shake. Lifting his gaze up, the couple is heading further down the sidewalk with their backs turned to the Titan. Gar’s brows furrowed together when he saw the woman glance back to him over her shoulder then whisper something into her partner’s ear, something that made the man pull the woman closer and switch their casual stroll into a faster pace, but only after sending a fearful look over his shoulder.

Like that guy in his car..

There’s movement in the corner of his eye and Tim stands at his side, gazing curiously at Garfield. "What are you looking at?”

Gar shifts his stance, straightening and shoving his hands into his front jeans pockets. “Nothing.”

“It was that couple, wasn’t it?” The teenager’s answer of silence causes a smirk to stretch across the new Robin's face. With a sigh and shake of his head, Tim rests a hand on Gar’s shoulder. “I should have seen this day coming.”

“What?"

“You’re gonna be seventeen in a few months, right?” Tim chuckles, “It’s only natural you’d be looking.”

Unaware of what his teammate was alluding to, Gar cocks his head like a canine and blinks, awaiting an explanation.

"Ya know, for a girlfriend.." Tim lowers his hand to playfully elbow Gar in the side, "Or boyfriend."

Garfield flinches away from Tim like his words had been a weapon swung in his direction, blood rushing to face and cheeks previously lacking much color now burning red. Eyes growing wide stare at the new Robin and a response fumbles out of his mouth. “When- when did I say I was looking for one of those?”

"I can just tell. That look of romantic longing."

"I- uh–" From cheeks and the tips of his ears felt like a match lit under the layers of skin. Gods, his face must look like a tomato right now. Forcing a smile, an embarrassed laugh slips through the curved lips and he rubs the back of his neck, averting his gaze away from his teammate. "You've been hanging around Rachel too long, man. I'm not longing for some guy to sweep me off my feet like prince charming."

Truthfully, he doesn’t know why he’s getting flustered over such a playground level tease, there isn’t a single chance in Hades or Heaven that Garfield Logan would or could find a romantic partner even if he had been thinking about one. It’s a fact. If the green hair and pointy teeth didn’t turn someone away, the shapeshifting and other powers that came with it sure would. Maybe in a different universe where he was still human and no one knew who he was he could entertain the thought of dating, but that reality doesn’t and will never exist.

Right now, Gar didn’t want to go searching for a significant other, no, he wants to figure out why three people have looked at him so strangely, like they were afraid to get too close. Hair might be messy and there’s dark circles under his eyes but he couldn’t look that bad. He's dressed in clean clothes and recently took a shower. So, he couldn't stink.

Shifting his gaze back to Tim, he leans closer and asks quietly. “Have you noticed the way people are looking at me?”

"No, sorry, man.” After taking a casual sweep of their surroundings, Tim returns to his friend and asks his own question in the same quiet tone as Garfield. “How are they looking?”

"Like they're afraid of me." Gar frowns and crosses his arms, "Some guy got back in his car and that couple sped up when they saw me."

A worm of apprehension begins to bury itself into the teenager’s brain as Tim stays silent, gaze pointing down in thought. There’s something that flashes in his new teammate’s eyes not long after the silence, a realization of some sort, and gaze snaps back to Gar; rounder than it had been previously.

“Did Dick and Kory tell you about the article?”

Gar blinked, “What article?”


The elevator doors open with a ding and Garfield marches out, aimed to the hall connecting the from the kitchen. Trailing behind, hot on his heels, Rachel suggests her friend to take a breath and see it from the adult Titans’ viewpoint. Nice of her to try but he’s upset and for once in his life, he’s going to express it.

He’s sick of being lied to, sick of being left in the dark. That’s all this team seems to know how to do.

In the process of setting the table for lunch, Kory pauses and watches Gar storm into the hallway. When he disappears, she frowns and turns to Rachel for an explanation. “What happened?”

“Tim told Gar about the article.” Rachel replied, shooting her friend a swift glare.

“I didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to know!” Tim defended, holding his hands up. “I was just trying to find an answer to his question!”

Kory narrows her eyes, “What question?”

Tim shrugs, “He wondered why people were acting scared of him.”

Setting the plate in hand down onto the table top, giving no thought to the fact that it was misplaced amongst the others, Kory steps around the table and heads for the hallway, heels clicking against the floor as she follows after Garfield.

Sharing an apprehensive glance, Rachel and Tim decide to stay behind, not wanting to get in the middle of a storm that has the chance of turning into a hurricane.

“Dick!”

In the middle of giving himself a private lesson in bo-staff techniques, something he must be doing for fun because there couldn’t be a technique Dick Grayson didn’t already master, the adult puts his exercise on hold and spins around to face the metahuman marching towards him, confusion clear on his face.

“What the hell!” Stopping a few inches away from the man, hissing angrily, Gar gaze narrows into glare and he brings an index finger up to point at the team’s leader. “You told me that article was about us! Thanking us for our work!”

Dick winces, eyes widening, taken aback by Garfield’s unexpected knowledge of a topic intended to stay hidden from him. An expression that didn’t stay long however, one of budding anger taking its place, and the adult demands to know how Gar found out.

The teenager couldn’t help but scowl and roll his eyes at the team leader’s actions. No apology, no comfort, not a single part in that man’s brain is thinking about Gar, how reading that attack is making him feel, just upset. Not at the author or anyone associated, no, he’s upset Gar found out and it makes the teenager’s blood boil hotter than it had been before.

As if Dick had any right to be upset.

“Tim told me what it was actually about. He brought it up on his phone.”

But maybe the adult’s misplaced anger wasn’t the reason behind the brown in Garfield’s iris being taken over by green like ivy covering an abandoned building. It was a factor, of course, but there’s something else and it awoke the beast kept caged in darkness, he could hear its growl ringing in his ears. And Dick’s deep exhale of breath and pinching of his nose bridge just aggravated the teenager even more. When the adult opens his mouth to spew some rehearsed explanation to defend himself, Gar couldn’t– didn't listen, instead interrupting with a forceful shove to Dick's chest. An action that gained another dumbstruck look from the man.

“You lied to me, again!”

Why does it always go like this?

Why are Garfield’s problems never seen as important? Why are they constantly brushed off by his fellow Titans like they’re nothing but a mild inconvenience to their day? Only earning Gar a brief pat on the shoulder and clearly practiced words of reassurance, rarely will he get an apology. Usually he’s the one asking for forgiveness even when he was the one wronged.

Everyone in this tower is taken seriously but him. Is he just a joke to them? Will he ever be seen as an equal member of this team because over the past few months it became quite clear that he's at the bottom of their priorities list.

How do you heal from learning that people you used to see and begin to love as family didn’t deem saving you from the clutches of a twisted man like Deathstroke using your powers against you to cause bloodshed and chaos as important, only after they attended to their personal issues did they decide you were a priority.

They have no idea what people - Caulder, The Asylum, Deathstroke - make him do when they realize they can control his powers with a simple sound, and they never will because they’re not him and don’t want to listen to him.

Hours. Do you know how many he’s spent locked away in his bedroom, the faces of innocent people, staring, screaming in painful horror as he sank his fangs into their skin replaying in his mind, the way their blood painted his striped pelt and dripped from his jaws, leaving a trail of red wherever he walked. How many lives would have been spared if his team put the Deathstroke situation first? The families affected wouldn’t have lost their loved ones during a night that was supposed to be fun, not end in blood soaked prizes. They wouldn't be lined up in black, standing in front of a single or multiple coffins. No traumatized civilians scared of the green monster who slaughtered their friends and family hiding in their closet, waiting to take them next.

"You've been through too much already," Prompted by the second voice adding to the discussion, Gar turns around to see Kory entering the training room. There’s a softness in her green eyes, something Dick didn’t have, as she frowned and continued to step closer. “We didn’t want to put you through more.”

“So, you do that by lying to me and acting like everything's okay?” They stay quiet after that, Gar watching them share a glance and emits a low growl as he raises the corner of his top lip. “It’s not okay for me!” The adults swiftly turn their attention back to the teenager at the outburst. Hot tears begin to build, pricking at the sides of his eyes. Usually it's an annoyance, the way he couldn’t argue without crying but right now he didn’t give the tears a second thought. “You both read what was said and- and you just stand here like it’s no big deal!”

It’s no big deal because it didn’t happen to them. He reminds himself.

“What they wrote about me, they- they called me a monster!” The dam breaks and the tears building up on his eyelids spill over, streaming down his cheeks, flushing red. “Do- do you know how hurtful that is?”

It’s a question he didn’t intend on receiving an answer for as he continued on, not giving a chance for the adults to slip a word in. He’s talking and for once, they’re gonna listen. Fingernails began to grow out and end in a sharp point. Skin, starting from the tips of his fingers, turned green, snaking up his arms until the unnatural color spread over every inch of his body.

Garfield snapped his head to face Dick, two bottom fangs now tinted yellow grew and stuck out over his bottom lip. Eyes losing their white background, replaced with a hollow black, making the rings of neon green apparent and more haunting. “Do you think I’m a monster, too?!”

He saw Dick flinch but his composure didn’t break, the man sighed and replied through a deep frown, shaking his head slightly. “No, of course not.”

Trying to rest a comforting hand on Garfield’s shoulder is met by a quick swipe of claws and animalistic snarl, making Kory gasp and Dick step back. Dropping the bo-staff and holding his hands up, the man apologizes for the action as it was out of habit and gives the teenager a respectful amount of space.

Pointed ears pin back and Gar asks, voice breaking. “What if it was Rachel?”

Dick shares another glance with Kory before asking Garfield what he meant.

“If that article was about Rachel? or Tim? Anybody else!” Eyes shift between the adults and a voice sounding like two people speaking in different pitches at the same time asks, “Would you have ignored it, too?”

A response wasn’t truly necessary, the answer is obvious and if they say otherwise? It’ll just be another case of his team lying to spare his feelings or whatever reason they make up in the moment for justification. He knows his place, he knows why he’s here. As hard as he tried to push that reality to the depths of his mind, during situations like this (funny how many times he finds himself in one) it creeps to the forefront and reminds him that the only reason he’s standing in the tower is because of Rachel, the way she begged Dick to bring Gar along because “He’s my friend”. Gar had been brought along to keep Rachel smiling and safe from her demons, that’s all, but now he couldn’t even do that.

Being hunted and bothered by his own demons kind of got in the way, and the longer he tried to hide them, the more they multiplied until he couldn't take it anymore. He doesn’t have anyone to keep him smiling, confide in when he’s struggling, no one to wrap his arms around to feel safe, comforted, at home. He never has. It’s Beast Boy’s job to cheer up and be there for others, it’s expected. Everyone knows to go straight to Garfield when emotional support is needed as if he’s some professional therapist and not a sixteen year old trying to play a video game.

The adults frowns of silence and gaze averting to the side to avoid eye contact said more than any verbal response could and Gar nodded, then wiped the side of his hand under his nose with a sniffle. “Yeah,” The green slowly drains from his skin, beast features returning to a human’s. “That’s what I thought.”

It hurts.. It hurts like hell, but the hint of a smile tugs at the side of his mouth anyway.

At least they didn’t lie.. That’s nice. He appreciated that, he really did.

"Gar, we'll fix this." He hears Kory promise and feels a hand placed on his shoulder. A touch meaning nothing to him. "We always protect each other, we’re a family, that’s the promise."

"And the Titans stick by that." Dick adds in.

Turning around, Gar sends Kory a smile accompanied by a weak chuckle and waves his hand to brush off Kory's assurance. "No, you don't have to. I don’t want you to. I'm fine, really."

Dick takes a step closer to add another word in but is cut short by Gar apologizing for the outburst and stepping away from the team leaders, moving towards the room's entrance.

"I understand." Twisting to the side, Gar throws a thumb over his shoulder. "I'm just gonna take a nap, okay?"

/

It was an escape.

An escape from everything. The article, the conversation, the entire day. It's something he finds himself doing often, using sleep to ignore things he didn't want to deal with. When he can sleep that is. The gods must have taken pity on him this evening, aware of the mess and how drained he is in every way possible, because this sleep was different, it was strange but in an interesting way.

He doesn’t quite remember what it was about, only that it was far from a nightmare. There was a field with some kind of building across from it, set out in the middle of nowhere. The sun's rays were intense, strong enough to the field ablaze, yet standing in them they only felt warm, cocooning in a blanket after an afternoon of winter activities kind of warm. A comforting warmth.

There had to be more to this odd dream, he knows it. Before being awoken he could swear there were birds. A crow cawed somewhere unseen and remembers seeing the face of a barn owl.

A cry barely had time to leave his lips before Garfield landed face first on his bedroom floor, legs tangled up the blanket and taking the heavy fabric down on top of him. Questioning how he fell off the bed would have been the dumbest question he's ever asked because the second he hit the floor he was struck by the vibrations aggressively shaking the tower.

Getting to his feet as quickly as he could without falling back onto his ass, using the objects scattered around his room to grab onto to pull himself forward, Gar exits into the hallway and leans against the wall to help keep balance as he tries to hurry to the computer room.

When reached, sights are set on Tim who was holding onto the large keyboard as if it was a life preserver ring keeping him from drifting out to sea.

Gar grabs onto the doorframe, digging his claws into the metal. "Tim, what's going on?!"

"I- I don't know!" The new Robin casts Gar a panicked look over his shoulder, "I was in the middle of monitoring a mission, I suddenly lost all connection, and this started!"

"You lost connection with the Titans?"

It felt like his heart dropped into his stomach. He was mad, sure, but he didn’t want anything bad to happen to his teammates-- his friends. Time alone to sit and process his thoughts and feelings, that's all he wanted. Whatever is happening, it's happening more violently to them outside. He should be out there beside them, helping the residents of San Francisco get to safety. Even if the residents believe he's a monster, something to be afraid of, it won't stop him from using his powers for good. What that article said didn’t matter at this moment, it's his job to help keep the city and the people who live in it safe. He made a promise and Garfield Logan doesn't break promises.

If Tim answered his question Gar didn’t hear it. Fighting against the quaking, he clawed his way down the hall, leaving deep scratch marks in the wall, pulling his body in the desired direction: the room their super suits are kept in.

Sparing no time to be amazed he managed to get his suit on without bodily harm, Beast Boy sped down the stairs with swift but careful steps, keeping his hand grasped tight around the railing. Avoiding the elevator during a possible earthquake would be the safest option.

Having to ram his shoulder into the exit door to open, Garfield stumbles outside and finds out what he theorized had been true but much worse than anticipated. The vibrations were harsh, causing cracks in the asphalt and sidewalks. Lampposts, benches, things bolted to the pavement were beginning to rise from the ground, being dragged up into the sky like a giant magnet attracting metal.

The sky. It didn’t take a genius to guess whatever was happening had to do with the sky. What should be blue is an ominous wine red, pink clouds swirled around as lightning if the same color struck in bright bolts, causing flashes of pink and loud crashes of a noise mimicking a more distorted sound of thunder.

It looked like the world was falling apart.. or being torn apart.

"Oh, my gods.."

.
.
.

In the peaceful darkness, there's a dry chill, blowing across his exposed skin like gentle breeze, an unwanted interruption. The teenager grumbles sleepily and with eyes shut, feelings around for the blanket he felt weighing down on the lower half of his body. When a heavy fabric appears under his palm, he curls his fingers inwards and tugs the blanket forwards, tossing the quilt over his upper body to cover his goosebump infested arms.

Satisfied now that he's warm, Garfield shifts slightly to find a more comfortable position to drift back to sleep in, though it's always a struggle to achieve when sleeping on a couch…

A couch.

Opening his eyes is met with the sight of a dark living room faintly illuminated by the early morning light peeking through the small separations in the curtains. Pushing up to sit on his hip and grabbing the blanket as it began to slide down his frame, he stares at the piece of fabric in hand and brows knit together. Remembering earlier into the night, how he woke up from a nightmare and ended up watching Jurassic Park with Jon, though Gar didn’t make it very far before falling asleep again. He didn’t, however, remember covering up with a blanket or there even being a blanket in the living room.

Obviously someone thought it’d be too cold to fall asleep on the couch without a blanket and thinks he can guess the correct explanation for it's appearance. Twisting to the side, Gar directs his gaze at the stairs and for a moment, a hinted smile appears on his lips before it drops to the previous frown and the teenager returns to the position he’d been sleeping in.

Jonathan didn’t have to stay down here, he knows that and appreciates his new roommate’s kindness. Jon could’ve left Gar alone in the darkness after his nightmare, panicked and growing uncomfortable in the new and unknown surroundings, but he didn’t. The teenager knows next to nothing about Gar yet he stayed by his side until he fell asleep and wouldn’t be a surprise if he hung around to make sure another nightmare didn’t form or at least to finish the movie.

Hoping it’s not too awkward when the Kent parents wake up and find their guest sleeping on the couch instead of the bed they put together yesterday evening, making it top priority so he wouldn’t have to sleep in the living room. Of course, he’ll clarify why he's down here, assure that he’s more than grateful for the bed, and hold his breath until the Kent parents give him a response. There’s a part of his brain that attempts to make him believe the adults will be mad but also another part that’s reassuring they’ll be understanding and maybe even send him a few comforting words about the situation.

Or he could avoid that encounter all together by getting to his feet and retreating to his shared room. Jonathan did, so what’s stopping him? Nothing, until there’s a shift of weight at the opposite end of the couch like someone moved an inch or two and Gar sits up once more. Gaze pointed at the source of the movement widens when it lands on Jonathan, in the same position Gar had been in, asleep and curled up in the corner of the couch and wrapped in his blanket, only difference being he was facing away from the tv.

Words spoken to him earlier in the night echo in his ears, "If you think I’m going to leave you down here by yourself, you are mistaken." and a smile begins to curve his lips. Returning to his sleeping position for the second time, being more courteous of his sleeping friend as he laid down and nestled in his blanket, a gentle rumble came from his chest, sending the vibrations up and into his throat, creating a purr you'd hear coming from a house cat.

Looks like he’s not going upstairs after all.

Jonathan didn’t leave Gar, so Gar’s not leaving Jonathan.

Notes:

next chapter:
Gar decides it's time to open up to the whole Kent family, letting them learn all his secrets as a sign of a trust, a decision that makes Clark wonder if it's time for the Kents to reveal their secrets as well.

Chapter 11: The Man of Steel

Summary:

Gar decides it's time to open up to the whole Kent family, letting them learn all his secrets as a sign of a trust, a decision that makes Clark wonder if it's time for the Kents to reveal their secrets as well.

Notes:

[insert "Superman and Lois" theme here]

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Once those bright blue eyes landed on the morning sun hanging high in the sky and his groggy, freshly awake brain finally processed how dead he was, Jonathan knew this is where he was going to end up. Sitting at the kitchen table with his mother standing at the other side, eyes narrowed into a glare pointed directly at him. To his right, Garfield sat with arms folded and head lowered into his shoulders, eyes averted to the side and avoiding any contact with Lois.

A pang of guilt strikes him in the chest. If his mother was going to be upset with one of them it should be him, Gar only followed along. It was Jon’s decision to sneak out, the reason they got caught in the rain and had to sleep outside, he's the reason they’re in this mess and he’s gonna get Gar out.

Breaking eye contact with Jon, Lois shifts her gaze between both boys. “Do you know how much danger you put yourselves in?”

“Danger?” Jonathan challenged, then internally winced at the raise in tone. It wasn’t intentional but was one way to get sent to his room. “The most dangerous thing outside was a car and I only saw like three the entire night.”

“The wild animals, Jonathan!”

“Wild animals?” He echoes, then realizes how dumb of a question it was after it left his lips. Someone who attended that bonfire reported a bear attack. His mother had no idea that the bear was truly Gar, there hadn’t been any real danger, but his mom believes there was.

Imagining how horrified she must have felt to learn there had been a bear attack at the bonfire her sons were attending, Jon frowns and lowers his gaze to the table top. The report must have traveled to her earlier in the morning because if she knew about a bear attack last night, there’s not a single chance she wouldn’t have brought it up before now and kept them all locked inside the house until it was taken care of– which would have been never since the bear wasn’t a real bear. The entire town would be sent on a wild goosechase… A wild garchase.

“Lois–” Clark’s attempts to chime in are cut off by Lois lifting a hand and telling him to hold on, then continuing on, responding to Jonathan’s question, oblivious to how stupid it was of him to ask.

“There have been reports of a bear and some kind of a giant wolf attacking a couple’s german shepherds!”

Jon blinked at his mother’s words, brows furrowing together in thought. “What?” He breathes.

Giant wolf? He didn’t hear about that.

It couldn’t have been Gar, he wouldn’t dare harm an animal. It’s been a known fact before Jonathan learned that his roommate could shapeshift into anything in the animal kingdom. So, that rules him out as the identity of the wolf… unless?

His stomach twisted and heart began to pound faster.

The memory of the injuries that decorated his friend’s body not even two weeks ago resurfaced. He helped Gar attend to the wounds, saw them front and center daily, only his focus was solely on the damage done to his shoulder then. The chunk taken out of Gar’s forearm and the way his back resembled a cat’s scratching post seemed odd, but his brain pushed their backstory away for another day.

Maybe he should have looked into it more instead of brushing it to the side because it wasn’t the german shepherds being attacked. The couple saw a wolf and assumed their pets were in danger. Aimed their gun at the animal covered in blood soaked green fur and – BANG!

Jonathan shook his head, ears ringing as if the gun shot had been real, firing in uncomfortably close vicinity. Averting his gaze from the table to his friend, head still hung low, a crack forms in his heart seeing Gar rub the bottom of his palm over the area of his shoulder that'd been shot.

The ringing fades, replaced by the voice of his mother. Her attention has shifted, those familiar glaring eyes were on Garfield now. Jon didn’t like that. Though he could point out a more questioning look, like she was debating with herself on something.

"I don't know if I can punish you or not?"

He gasps, "Don't!" The chair leg scrapes against the floor as the teenager jumps to his feet, "It was me! Everything was my idea!"

"I didn't have to follow you." Gar said, quietly.

"It's not like I gave you much of a choice?" Jon argued, "I didn't even tell you where we were going."

“No one’s getting punished!” His father inserts himself into the conversation, stepping next to his wife. Lois opens her mouth to protest against her husband’s decision but a word doesn’t squeak out, she stays silent when Clark places a hand on her shoulder. A touch assuring her that he’s going to take it from here. “Scolded? Yes. Sneaking out in the middle of night is reckless and dangerous, but not for the reason your mother thinks and you know that.”

Slowly, Jonathan returned to his seat and broke eye contact with his dad, lowering blue eyes to the fingernails he began to pick at, they needed re-painted anyway. Knowing very well that the emphasized “you” wasn’t aimed at Lois and sure as hell wasn’t aimed at Garfield. No, those eyes were pointing at Jon and Jon only.

Because Superman relocated to Smallville and the almost world-ending mess Tal-Rho caused, grandpa makes sure the D.O.D keeps their searching eyes on the tiny town for something that might seem off. Jonathan’s seen them before, strolling along the sidewalk in town, trying to blend with the other townsfolk. But that was years ago. They stuck around a few months after Tal-Rho had been defeated, then disappeared and Jon hasn’t seen a glimpse of them since.

There’s always a chance they’re stalking around however, especially after the news of bears and wolves in Smallville. It’ll no doubt make his grandpa raise an eyebrow. And if they see Garfield’s powers, he’s gonna end up just like Tag Harris. Shipped away to that school – if it really is a school, his gut tells him it’s not – to never be seen or heard from again.

Long story short: the D.O.D doesn’t like nor trust metahumans and if they catch wind of a metahuman in Smallville, it’s not going to end in a civil discussion, even if Superman informs Garfield isn’t a threat.

By the time Jonathan tunes back into his parents’ conversation, his father was beginning to explain why those wild animals weren’t a danger to the boys and the teenager couldn't help but roll his eyes. For a man who's strict (by every sense of the word) about keeping his superpowers a secret, he clearly has no problem outing someone's powers without permission.

Getting caught at the playground earlier is the only reason he knew about his friend’s ability to shapeshift. He questioned Gar's whereabouts and in his panicked but still half asleep state the best explanation Jon could manage was grabbing the sleeping cat next to him and holding him out for his father to see.

"Those animals were me!"

The kitchen fell silent and Jonathan snapped his focus to his friend, who’s standing from his chair and notices the hint of green beginning to glow bright in Gar’s iris. His father in mid-explanation came to an abrupt pause and his mother blinked at the green haired teenager, confused and brows pulling together in disbelief.

“You?” She asks.

Garfield took a breath, then lifted a hand. Starting from the elbow and climbing up to the tips of his fingers, skin turned a green and the bones under moved, morphing and rearranging into a new shape: a large bear paw covered in green fur with light green claws stuck at the point of each digit.

Jonathan watches as the confusion on his mother’s face warps, mouth falling agape and eyes stretching as wide as an owl’s. He swears he’s never seen his mother look so shocked, it was almost humorous to see the famous, outspoken Lois Lane too dumbstruck to speak, it’s not a state most people will ever see for themselves.

At her side, the complete opposite of his mother, his father stared at Gar’s newly formed paw with eyes sparkling in amazement and an open mouth smile stretched across his face. How cool must your powers be to have Superman look at you like that?

“I can..” Gar pauses for a heartbeat, then sends the Kent parents a semi-bashful. “Turn into animals.”

Before his mother had a chance to squeak a word out, Jonathan jumped from his seat to stand next to his roommate, exclaiming. “And those german shepherds weren’t attacked, they attacked Gar! That’s why he was shot!"

Stepping out from behind the living room wall, Jordan leans against the kitchen doorway and folds his arms over his chest, adding to his twin’s explanation. "There was no bear attack, either. Gar used his powers to protect Jon from Timmy Ryan. No one was harmed, just scared away.”

Looking at Jordan, Clark tilts his head. "I thought I told you to wait outside?"

Jordan flashes his father a quick grin as an ‘oops’.

Lois took a deep breath and ran a quick hand through her hair. Gathering her thoughts, Jon assumed. Gaze moving to each member of her family, she asks. “And you all knew this?”

Clark shoved his hands into his front jeans pockets and shrugs, “I found out this morning.”

“Bonfire night.” Jonathan and Jordan reply in unison.

Lois nods slowly, “So, everyone but me.” Shifting her attention to Garfield, she smiles. “Were you planning on telling me at some point?”

Huffing a mini laugh, a smirk pulls at the side of Gar’s mouth. “I can do more than tell you now.”


She couldn’t help it, really, how her breath caught in her throat. It’s not a sight you’d expect to see outside of a zoo, let alone your living room.

Large paws carrying an even larger body covered in green fur and thick dark stripes strolled into the room, white tipped tail hung low and swaying side to side. It’s eyes, rings of neon green, move between the family scattered around the living room and it emits a breathy groan through a mouth full of pointed teeth as it did so.

It’s stupid, she knows, the apprehension causing her pulse to speed, but it’s a tiger in her living room. Her husband, sitting close at her side, stared at the green wild cat with stars in his eyes and Jonathan, at the opposite end of the couch, looked just as amazed as his father. Her most anxious son, Jordan was slouched back into the farthest chair with hands resting over his chest, didn’t have a hint of fear in his eyes, only watched the large animal with a half smile on his lips.

The tiger gave it’s pelt a shake, then padded over to the nearest chair and disappeared behind. Noises Lois didn’t have the stomach to describe rings through her ears, sounding disgustingly painful is all she could manage.

“He’s fine.”

She hears Jonathan reassure and breathes the breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

The noises fade away. It’s quiet for a heartbeat or two, then a chatter pops of the silent bubble of anticipation. From behind the chair, a raccoon scrambles across the rug and leaps onto the coffee table, front and center for all Kent family members to see. The animal’s lips stretch into what could be taken as an bashful grin as it chatters incoherent words in raccoon language.

“Wow.” Lois breathed, gaze unable to move from an animal she’s usually seen digging through the garbage colored green and sat at the edge of the coffee table. A table that’s gonna need to be sanitized.

The look of amazement didn’t fade from Clark’s face, “I’ve never seen powers capable of making such drastic changes.”

“I told you it was cool.” Jon smirked.

Clarks twists his head to look at his son, “And Gar is a real raccoon?”

Leaning back into the couch cushion, Jonathan folds his arms behind his head and jumps into an explanation no doubt told to him by Garfield the night of the bonfire. An explanation Lois hadn’t exactly been listening to, the woman’s attention is drawn to the raccoon and the mischievous smirk that pulls at it’s lips as it crouches and sneakily pads over to the corner edge, keeping it’s ears pressed flat against it’s skull and tail low.

It’s objective was obvious and target? Occupied in conversation, the perfect time to strike. Suppressing a laugh as to not ruin the plan, Lois watches the raccoon raise it’s hindquarters and wiggle in preparation. Then in a blur of green fur, it launched from the coffee table and slammed into an unexpecting Jonathan’s abdomen, causing the boy’s discussion to be cut short by a loud, breathy grunt on impact.

Hooked ever so carefully into the blonde haired teen’s shirt, the raccoon uses it’s claws to scramble upwards and rest on Jon’s shoulders like a parrot would do with a pirate.

“Ow!” Jon frowns, twisting his head to face the animal. “What did I do to deserve that?”

Without breaking eye contact, the raccoon lifts it’s tail from where it had been curled near Jon’s neck and holds the fluffy, ringed appendage under the teenager’s nose, causing Jon’s eyes to cross and brows to furrow as he pointed his gaze to the tail above his top lip.

Jordan snorts, “Impressive. You always could grow facial hair faster than me.”

“Thank you.” Twirling his index finger around the tail, Jon smiles proudly. “I’ve been growing it for a few months.”

A noise that could be taken as a raccoon version of laughter emits from the animal as it holds it’s paw up to it’s mouth. Lois hears her husband chuckling as well, then giggles herself when he carefully bumps his shoulder into her’s.

“Didn’t you do that to me with a feather duster when we were cleaning out our first apartment in Metropolis?”

Though she already knew the answer, Lois hums in thought for a moment before smiling at her husband. “I think so, yes.”

/

Clark didn’t know what to think, what to say. It’s not a story you could prepare a response for, other than the more so broken record sayings of: “I’m sorry” or “That’s awful.” which can be genuine, of course, but do those ever make people feel better or is more of an annoyance most of the time? He knows they never worked with Jonathan unless they were accompanied by physical affection, like hugging.

And it might be Garfield’s comfort language, too.

After getting clothed upstairs and returning to the living room, he took a seat next to Jonathan; jumping into a detailed explanation about his powers and how he obtained them. Though no one expressed the desire to know his abilities' backstory, Clark guesses Gar had a feeling the people surrounding him had been thinking it. Besides Jonathan, who apparently already knew the full story, having it told to him last night.

The living room stayed silent, other than Garfield speaking. When the story reaches a specific point, the mention of a man named Slade Wilson and explaining how he got his hands on him, Clark notices the boy's hand turning green and beginning to take a new shape. An emotional reaction, he guesses. Frowning, he opens his mouth to express his concern but is interrupted before the words can leave his lips by his son, who clearly noticed the same thing.

Without taking his eyes off of his roommate, Jonathan places his hand atop Garfield's and slips his fingers between friend's, connecting their hands. The gesture of comfort causing the lizard-like hand forming to retreat and morph back into a human hand.

Wow.

"Sorry, this is stupid.” Gar laughed weakly, wiping the tears from one eye with the bottom of his free hand. “I never had to recount all of this back to back before.”

Lois frowns, sending the teenager a sympathetic look. “You don’t have to keep going if you can’t, sweetie.”

“Yeah,” Jordan sits up in his chair, “It’s all good. We understand.”

Pointing his gaze at the floor, the smile drops from Gar’s face, leaving a frown in its place. "I should have told you all about me before now.”

Huddling closer to Jonathan, he leans his head onto his roommate’s shoulder and Jon lifts his hand, moving it to rest Gar’s opposite upper arm.

“I could have stopped all that mess from happening.”

“You didn’t trust us then,” Jonathan reminds, rubbing his hand up and down Gar’s arm. “Which is totally understandable, by the way. Stranger danger, ya know."

Whatever Garfield's response to Jonathan was, Clark didn't hear it. The surrounding voices fades into the background as he drops his gaze to his lap, hands clasped together over the tops of thighs.

I'm gonna have to tell Gar eventually, the man thinks. But is now the right time?

Gar trusted them enough to open up about his past, his powers and what they can do..

And what if Jordan is right and Jonathan is manifesting powers, there's a serious chance he could be dangerous if his powers aren't caught right away and taught to be contained properly before they fully surface.

The last thing Clark wants is for Jonathan to be unaware of his own super strength and harm Gar or anyone else living here just because he stayed silent too long, fighting with himself over one simple but also giant decision. A simple morning would turn to chaos if grabbing the jug of milk for breakfast ended with the refrigerator being torn from the wall and sent flying into the hall as if the large, metal appliance was nothing but a cardboard box.

Garfield would have to know something isn't quite human about their family if Jonathan rips the sink out while trying to wash his hands.. or worse–

The sound of a rib cage cracking, each bone shattering to tiny fractions, rings throughout the man's ears and his heart begins to pick up the pace, imagining the horrified look on his son's face once he realized what he'd done.

A gentle prod to the side of his thigh brought Clark out of his thoughts.

Huddled closer than she had been before, Clark meets the hazel eyes of his wife. Soft with empathy like she had been reading the personal fears and debates swirling around his head for the past few weeks.

She always could see right through him.

With lips pressed into a smile, Lois lifts her hand to rub her husband’s upper arm, a touch so tender, so comforting, it scared away the frown on the man’s face and brought a matching smile.

Looking into his eyes as if to connect their minds, she nods, telling him all he needed to hear without actual spoken words.


Husks stripped from the corn they held so close to protect crunched under the weight of Garfield as the teenager trailed close behind Clark, Jonathan at one side and Jordan at the other. The curly haired boy had an expression stuck to his face, one Gar had to debate on whether it was excitement or apprehension. It’s hard to tell those two apart, at least to him. Maybe it was both.

Leaning closer to Jonathan, Gar whispers. “Where are we going again?”

Gar fought the urge to roll his eyes when Jonathan chose not to reply with words but by pressing an index finger to his smiling lips.

After telling his life story, he had plans on getting a long, hot shower. He might not be as looks-obsessed as his roommate but isn’t going to act like he doesn’t reek of the unplanned camping trip – or it could be his enhanced senses are making him think he smells worse than he actually does. He never truly knows. What he does know, however, is that his curiosity is piqued but also confused why they needed to trudge so far out into a muddy field.

This secret must be tucked away in a triple locked filing cabinet in a huge warehouse between a classified folder kind of important.

It only took an eternity – okay, not really but you know what he means – to reach their destination. Emerging from the rows of corn stalks, Gar steps out into a cut down area of the field decorated with rotting ears of corn that have been left behind and the husks that used to be attached to them. And according to the scent drifting into his nostrils, a herd of doe led by one buck had passed through about an hour ago.

Ahead, he watched as Jordan shuffled closer to his father and whispered something he couldn’t hear in Clark's ear by giving himself a little bit of height using the balls of his feet, sending Gar a glance or two during his hushed conversation.

The confusion causing Garfield’s brow to raise grew, but gained a sprinkle of humor as well, when he felt a pair of hands press against his shoulder blades and twisted his neck to point his gaze at the culprit behind the unexpected touch, though he really didn't need to. There's only one explanation.

Gar purred in amusement, "What are you doing?"

"Being a good friend and keeping you from falling." Jon smiled.

"Falling?"

Before he could press on about what his roommate meant, his focus is brought to Clark who calls Gar's name and out of the corner of his eye notices Jordan move to the side, watching like a spectator as his father steps closer to Gar and rests a hand on the teenager's shoulder.

"Over this past month, I’ve been debating on when it would be the best time to tell you, and this afternoon showed me that you trusted us enough to be honest. It took real courage to open up like you did.”

It’s strange, but in a good way.

Gar found himself in this position quite often in the past. Loomed over by people much bigger, much stronger, more threatening than him. It was a way to intimidate him, get him scared so he'd follow along without protest.

The Chief couldn't do it physically but he didn't need to, the hallow look in his eyes, lacking any kind of empathy or guilt for the sins he committed, were enough to scare Gar in line– until it didn’t and Gar began to push against The Chief's treatment, then it went from scared into agreeing to force and The Chief had Cliff Steele personally escort Gar to wherever he needed to go. The destination was never fun, either.

He expected his heart to race, bad memories to flood every inch of his mind, but they didn’t. He wasn’t staring up into a cold glare, no, the pride shining bright in Clark's eyes told him otherwise.

It was warm, like a beam of spring sunlight. There's no danger, no threat. It wasn't pity or fake. Everything in the man's eyes was genuine. He's proud of him.

A lump formed in his throat.

He's never been looked at like that before.

Hand retreating from the teen's shoulder, Clark removes his glasses and carefully attaches them to his shirt collar. "You put your trust in us, Garfield, and I think it's time we put our trust in you."

Clark takes a step back and as if on cue, the world surrounding them falls silent, turning its sights onto the man, who’s feet lift from the ground like the invisible chains of gravity broke. Raising into the sky, framed by the sun's golden rays, an overwhelming sense of power came flowing out of the floating man in waves. Power not used to control, not to threaten or intimidate the ones below, but to protect the ones who can not protect themselves, no matter what.

He didn't need to be wearing the suit for you to see it.

The red cape riding the wind.

The S on his chest.

The living, breathing symbol of hope.

Mouth hung open and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he stared, unable to move his gaze from the man hovering above. Knees felt weak, like his body could crumble to the ground at any moment, but the hands firmly pressed against his shoulder blades wouldn’t allow it.

Swallowing the block in his throat, Gar finally speaks, the words leaving his lips in a breath.

“Superman?"

Wearing the bright smile that rarely leaves his face, Clark descends to where he previously stood and shoves his hands into his coat pockets.

"You're-" With a shaky hand, Gar points directly at the man who had been hovering feet above the ground a second ago. "You're Superman?"

Taking the man's warm laugh as confirmation, he spins around to face the two teenagers and eyes glittering with astonishment shift between both boys. "And you're Superman's sons?"

Walking over to stand next to brother, Jordan replies with a simple “yup” and loops his arm over Jonathan’s shoulder.

“Oh, my gods..” Gar breathes, smile disappearing from his face for a heartbeat before returning even wider and brighter than before. It feels like his entire world has been turned upside down, in the best way possible. “I’ve been living with Superman and his family this whole time!”

“I wasn’t expecting this kind of reaction.” Jordan said to his brother, who chuckles.

“I was.”

Laughing, Gar moves his focus between all three boys and exclaims. “I knew something was weird about you guys!–” Realizing how bad that sounded after it left his lip, he pauses. Cheeks flushing red in embarrassment, he continues with a chuckle. “I didn’t mean for that to come out so rude.”

Turning to face Clark, relief promptly washes away any worry, glad the man didn’t look offended by the dumb comment.

“It’s just– I couldn’t help but notice odd things.” He steps closer, keeping the semi-awkward grin on his face. “Like your talk in the bathroom. You told me your friend had powers, but I knew you were talking about yourself.”

Clark sighs and tilts his head slightly, “It was that bad?”

Gar shrugs, “Kinda, yeah.”

Behind them, the twins chuckle in presumed agreement.

“So, I kind of assumed you had powers.. But I never could have guessed this.. It’s just–” Fixing his posture to resemble a soldier lined up in front of their sergeant, Gar holds a hand out for the Man of Steel to shake. “It’s a great honor to meet you, sir.”

Clark huffs a mini laugh, then places a hand on Gar’s shoulder. “It’s an honor for me, too.”

His smile promptly drops into a frown, confused why it’d be an honor to meet him. He’s not Superman. And the confusion only grows when he watches the light in Clark’s eyes dim and his own smile to fade away.

“Gar, from what you told us earlier about you, about what you’ve been through.. None of it should have happened to you, and I am so sorry it did.”

The man pauses, averting his gaze away from the teenager for a brief moment. When it returns, Gar couldn’t fight the shiver running up his spine and the tears beginning to build. The comforting warmth in his smile accompanied by the sparkle in his ocean blue eyes. He wasn’t seeing Gar as just another member of a team, playing the role he was given. No. He was seeing Gar as the real person he is. Not his hair, not his powers, not his team. He's not Beast Boy, he's Garfield Logan.

“But the fact that you’re standing here, smiling throughout the day, you’re a lot stronger than you think. And despite everything, you still help others, bring a light to the darkness, remind people there’s still hope. You’re just as much of a hero as I am," Placing the remaining hand on Gar's opposite shoulder, Clark quiets his tone and locks his gaze with the green haired teenager. "And it has nothing to do with your powers."

It was out of habit. How quickly he practically leaps into the man's arms, engulfing him in an embrace, the tears building on his eyelids spilling over and running down his cheeks. Not expecting the Man of Steel to return the hug, it felt like his heart jumped into his throat when he did.

He's being hugged..by Superman.

Jordan turns his focus to his twin, “Well, he’s one of us now.” He smiles.

Jon scoffs in humor, "Handled it much better than we did."

Releasing from their hug, Gar steps back and dries his cheeks with his coat sleeve. "Thank you, sir. That meant-- that meant a lot."

"Hey," He smiles, ruffling the boy's green hair. "It's still just Clark."

This time, instead of the exasperated eye roll from the past when the Titans would do the same, the action is met with a purr and toothy smile, big enough to reveal his top and bottom fangs.

"Now!" Clark claps his hands together, "Tomorrow we'll be able to finish that project with ease!"

Gar blinked, "What project?"

"A project for Lois." Clark explains, "Moving lumber will be a lot easier now that I can use super strength."

Lifting his gaze to where his boys stood, he begins to ask who wanted to be the third pair of hands, but the question never finishes. The two teenagers were already disappearing into corn stalks, sprinting back to the house; leaving Garfield and Clark in the field.

That's all the response needed to answer how they felt about working tomorrow.

"Looks like it's just us."

Notes:

next chapter:
An embarrassing discussion between Jonathan and his father on the drive home from running errands leads to another - not so personal - secret being voiced. Later, Gar teams up with the Man of Steel to finish a project for Lois and enjoys his first family cook out.

Chapter 12: The gazebo

Summary:

An embarrassing discussion between Jonathan and his father on the drive home from running errands leads to another - not so personal - secret being voiced. Later, Gar teams up with the Man of Steel to finish a project for Lois and enjoys his first family cook out.

Notes:

I apologize for how late this chapter is.. August was not a good month for me, I won't go into detail about that since it's personal junk...

BUT if you stuck around through the little hiatus and made it here, hey! that's awesome! thank you for being patient and all the support! ❤️❤️ You have officially made to the last chapter of arc 1! I split all the chapters up to keep track of them and to signal when the story takes a turn. Chapter 13 starts arc 2, which will be a little different from the previous chapters. Arc 1 was the "Welcome to Smallville" arc, where Gar learns about everything and everyone, and arc 2 will feel more like the show but if Gar was in it (he's still a main focus, don't worry lol).

August 18th also was this fic's one year anniversary! Can't even believe it some times lmao,, thank you again to everyone!! 🥰 I hope a chapter I didn't plan on being this long is a good "I'm sorry" for the wait.

(fun fact: if you gave your Beast Boy a shovel he evolves into his Country Boy regional form)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The mouth watering aroma of maple syrup and the sound of sausage links sizzling in a pan could there be anything better to wake up to? Garfield Logan would say no if his life hadn’t recently taken a drastic but welcomed turn. The best thing to wake up to is the sight, the first thing he sees when descending the stairs and progressing towards the kitchen.

Slipping this week’s favorite hoodie – oversized, jet black with sleeves tie-dyed different colors – over his head to cover the t-shirt he wore to bed, he appears in the kitchen doorway and is met by a swift pat to his shoulder.

“Hey tiger, I thought you were gonna miss breakfast.”

Gar purred in greeting, watching his roommate stroll over to the kitchen table with a hand holding multiple plates to set on the wooden surface.

Standing at the oven, Lois tends to the breakfast meat with Jordan standing over her shoulder, as Clark piles golden flapjacks onto a large, glass plate and humming quietly to himself until catching sight of Gar standing in the doorway, and sends the teenager a chipper “morning, Garfield!”.

Now alerted to Gar’s appearance, Lois casts a glance over her shoulder. “Could you grab some cups and set them on the table?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

He told himself he would put the Titans to the back of his mind, but couldn’t fight the glee curving his lips into a smile as he advanced towards the cabinets, gaze taking a sweep of the room and landing on each family member completing their ordered task. On his earth, it’d be Gar who’d make breakfast for the entire team since they’d all be busy with their own things in the morning and it gave him some sense of importance, but here his only command is to help set the table, be a part of the team instead of leading it alone.

Poking at the remaining breakfast on his plate, Gar tried to focus on the food being impaled by his fork as the conversation between father and son wasn’t for him to chime in, though it was hard since they all were sitting at the same table. Discussing back and forth about Jordan’s training taking place at the Fortress (of solitude, Gar guessed).

Yesterday afternoon Garfield had been trusted with knowledge only few people knew: Clark Kent is Superman, and since then it’s felt like everyone around the table were lighter, more smiles, the weight of having to keep the secret from Gar taken off their shoulders. He can't imagine how hard it'd be to keep a secret identity that super from a person who's living in your house and when your son has the same powers as you.

He was starting to wonder where Jordan and Clark disappeared to over on the weekdays and Jonathan must have picked up on it because he’d always jump in to cause some kind of distraction, shift Gar’s attention away from where Clark and Jordan went to Jon – doing something stupid like trying to slide down the stair railing. It worked too. Gar forgot about the disappearing Kents and put an end to Jon’s shenanigans before they could start.

Now everything's open, no secrets creating stress and drama. The Kents know about Gar, his powers, his past, how his life was on his earth and he knows the same about Kents.. Okay, not everything about the Kents, just the important stuff. He doesn’t need to know every little detail.

"Aw, man! You spilled something on your hoodie.”

Brought from his thoughts by Jonathan’s voice, Gar glances at the blonde teenager sitting at the end of the table before dropping his gaze to his hoodie and pinching the fabric between his finger and thumb, pulling it forward to examine.

By the time he realized there was nothing on his hoodie, it was too late. There's a blur of movement over his plate and Gar looks at his roommate who’s popping the strawberry he stole into his mouth, sending the blonde teenager a rather unamused expression.

“What?” Jon laughed through chews, “You never share food.”

Gar shook his head but didn’t fight the smile creeping on his face and went back to his previous objective of finishing breakfast. Only to be interrupted again by Jonathan grabbing the top of his hoodie sleeve to pull him close enough for him to lean forward and whisper in Gar’s ear without having to get out of his chair.

Eyes sparkle at the words and he nods in agreement, “Deal.”

At the opposite end of the table, Clark clears his throat loud enough to grab everyone at the table’s attention. Once all eyes are on him, he begins: “I gotta go pick up a few things for today’s project.” Pausing, Clark points his gaze at his blonde son. “Jonathan, I’d like you to come along to help.”

Jon shrugs as a “sure” then lifts a piece of impaled flapjack to his mouth.

“You need any more help, dad?” Jordan asks.

“No,” Clark clears his throat once more, before glancing at Lois, then adding. “Just Jonathan.”

After sharing a look with Jordan across from him, both teenagers turn to face Jonathan, who seems to be as confused as them.


Helping his father load paint cans and plastic bags filled with multiple types of nuts and bolts he had no interest in learning about into the truck bed, Jonathan couldn't say he actually cared about what they're for or what project they're building, it's something for his mother and that’s where his knowledge ends.

Right now, there's only one thing on his mind, what's making his stomach feel sick with apprehension, and it has to do with the man standing next to him, going over the shopping list.

Jon turns his gaze up to his father, eyes squinting from sunlight. "What did you wanna talk to me about, anyway?"

Without taking his eyes off the list in hand, Clark nods to the front of the truck, signaling his son to get in, causing the teenager's already growing anxiety to amplify as he does what he's told.

Climbing into the passenger side and clicking his seat belt, Jon keeps quiet, waiting until his father settles into the driver's seat and starts the truck to express his concern.

Jon swallows, "Am I in trouble?"

A familiar smile curves his father's lips and the genuine chuckle that escapes from them helps ease the teenager’s fear even if by a little bit.

"Not at all, bud." Clark reassured, “Your mother just wanted me to have a talk with you.”

He doesn’t know why, but something in his gut is telling him he won’t like where his conversation is going.

“About?” Jon asks, despite the gut feeling.

His father’s warm smile suddenly morphs into one that resembles more of a grin of awkwardness. Removing a hand from the steering wheel, Clark rubs the back of his neck and keeps his eyes glued ahead, not even giving Jonathan a quick glance almost like he didn’t want to look at his son while he spoke.

“Jordan told us some stuff..”

The curious look on Jon’s face drops, leaving one that could be described as being mixed between a deer caught in the headlights and anger. “What stuff?”

Like he purposely tuned out Jonathan’s question, Clark goes on. “I just want to know your honest answer to a question.”

Without having a time to even think of a response or repeat his question, Jon found himself frozen as if Jordan hit him with a gust of ice breath, staring up at his father with wide eyes as the question left his lips.

“Do you like Gar? And I mean like.

Blood rushed to Jonathan’s face, every inch from the tips of his ears to his jaw burned like he had stood in the sun way too long. And for some reason, his throat hurt. It was burning, as well, but not like his face. It actually felt like there was a miniature bonfire ignited in his throat, but he pushed the odd feeling to the back of his mind as it wasn’t important at this moment.

“Where- where did you–” Tripping over his own words, Jonathan gave his head a quick shake to gather his thoughts and shouts. “Why would you ask me that?!”

“Jordan said he thought you did.” Clark said simply and shrugged.

Of course, he did.

Jon narrows his gaze into a glare. He huffs angrily through his nose and to his surprise the burning in his throat is extinguished. His father must have had the ac kicked on pretty high too, though he couldn’t feel it, because he swears he saw a cloud of breath come from his nose after he huffed.

“Your answer?” Clark presses.

Jon sinks back in his seat and folds his arms tightly over his chest, turning his head to face the window instead of his father. “I mean.. Kind of, yeah.” He pauses, then shrugs. “But he’s my best friend and I don’t wanna, ya know, jeopardize that.”

If Jonathan is going to try being in a relationship again, Garfield is gonna have to make the first move because he can’t do it. He knows his feelings but not his friend’s. If he’s the one to try to cross the line and fucks it up, losing his first, true friend because of some in the moment, poorly made decision. He’ll never forgive himself.

“Thought so.”

After an exhale, Clark ran a quick hand through his hair, and Jon frowned, seeing his father’s reaction in the window’s reflection.

Taking a breath, Jon asks. “Are we done talking now?”

His father’s response of “not yet” makes the teenager groan quietly and lean against his seatbelt, cupping his face in his hands. He never was a big fan of having his brain picked.

Just when he thought this conversation couldn’t get anymore embarrassing and personal, a question he never could have imagined he’d hear today (or any day, really) is spoken by his father and so casually you would think what he just said is a normal, everyday discussion topic.

“What!?”

Snapping his head up from his hands, Jon smacks the back of his head into the seat and takes no time to recover from the sudden collusion. It didn’t seem possible but his face was burning hotter than it had been minutes ago and there’s that feeling in his throat again, not as painful as before though.

Staring up at his father, he waves his hands in an X motion. “No! No! I never thought–” Unable to finish his response, Jon slams his back into seat and pulls the hoodie’s hood over his head, tugging aggressively at the strings to tightly close the hood over his face. “Oh, my god!”

“Jonathan, you’re almost seventeen.” Clark chuckles and reaches an arm over to pat his son’s shoulder, “It’s completely normal, bud. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to hear my dad ask it!” Jon shouts, then takes a breath in an attempt to calm his pounding heart. He lowers his hood. “Are we done now? I need to figure out a way to erase my memory.”

“Almost,” Clark confirms, “Your mother wanted–”

Interrupting his father with an abrupt outburst, Jonathan throws his arms up in exclamation. “Of course! This is mom’s idea!”

“Jonathan.” He hears his father chide, a warning to tread carefully.

But the teenager continues. Rolling his eyes, Jon folds his arms over his chest. “Wow, what a shock! Mom doesn’t trust me.”

“Well, you weren’t making your case any better by sneaking out in the middle of the night!”

Jonathan wanted to stay upset, be frustrated with his mother and her continuous lack of trust, but he knew his father was right. For how badly Jon wants to be seen as responsible and trustworthy, he seems to keep falling back into his bad habit of not thinking things through, or not thinking at all.

His mother would joke Jordan thought with his brain while Jon thought with his emotions– Jon never found it funny, it made him feel stupid, but maybe the joke bothered him so much because he knew she was right.

The teenager’s expression softens and scowl morphs into frown, “I know. I’m sorry.”

The truck comes to a stop at a red light and his father sighs. Expecting some kind of lecture on why he should have been smarter, Jon scoots closer to the car door to create distance even if tiny and winces out of habit when he feels his father’s hand rest on his shoulder.

“You’re a great friend, Jon.”

Blinking, confused and caught off guard by the sudden mood shift, Jonathan snaps his head to face his father. “What?”

Clark laughs softly, “You’re a great friend.” The truck starts again and Clark’s hand retreats back to the steering wheel. “Now, I’m not condoning sneaking out but I know you were only trying to help Gar.”

“Mom didn’t think that, did she?” Jon asked.

“No,” Clark sighed, “But I trusted you. You take after me.” he ended with a chuckle.

The last part was a joke, but the almost proud tone in his father’s voice as he said so makes Jonathan’s smile twitch. Huffing a mini laugh, he glanced away from his father and brows furrowed for a split second before returning to his father and asking what he meant.

“Nothing, nothing..” With a smile still stuck to his face, Clark shook his head. “We can be done talking about this for now, if you want.”

Putting the comment to the back of his mind as it probably didn’t mean anything, anyway; just another one of his father’s jokes, Jon scratches the side of his face and nods. “I’d really appreciate it, yeah.”

If Jonathan had to hear that word again, he would reach for the car door and throw himself onto the road. Getting hit by an oncoming car couldn’t be as painful as that discussion continuing.

Why can’t Jordan keep his mouth shut?

Ever since his twin took it upon himself to blurt out Jon’s issues to their parents in the past, it seems like he believes he’s allowed to do the same thing with anything Jon does. Look at his roommate for more than two seconds? Jon must be in love with him. Gets a headache? That means Jon has powers.

It’s like Jon isn’t able to even speak without someone trying to dissect every word that comes out his mouth, thinking it has some hidden meaning, when in reality it doesn’t. He’s just talking, and doesn’t want everything he says blabbed to his parents. He’s allowed to have private thoughts and keep things to himself, isn’t he?

Jonathan’s heard a few things said by Jordan that’d make his twin hyperventilate out of terror if he learned their parents had found out, but Jonathan isn’t going to tell their parents because it’s none of his business, and ‘cause he’s not an asshole who gets people in trouble on purpose.

Ssssssss..

Jerking his hands away from the sink where he’d been washing his hands, Jonathan took a deep breath in preparation to scream but quickly bit his tongue to keep silent and stared at his trembling hands. Wisps of smoke rose from the surface of his skin as if his hands had been submerged in hot water, but taking a glance to the faucet’s handle confirmed what he already knew: both hot and cold handles were twisted halfway.

Against the voice in his head telling him to go find his father and get out of the gas station as quickly as possible, Jonathan stays where he stood and lifts his gaze to observe his reflection: His throat was red, glowing like there’s a light shining from inside, illuminating the veins running under his skin a bright orange.

Don’t scream.

Not only would screaming draw too much attention, alert people who need to stay in the dark about the alien happenings around them, but he knew had to keep his mouth glued shut; placing his hands over if it came to it. If he separated his lips, even if tiny, it’d give whatever was climbing up his throat and causing it to burn as if boiling water had been poured down it a chance to escape, and something in this restroom will be destroyed.

The passenger door shuts, more aggressively than normal, and attention is pulled from his phone screen, where he'd been texting his wife that they'd be home soon. Suddenly a worm of concern begins to form in the man's brain when his gaze lands on his son.

He didn't need Jonathan to verbally express something wasn’t right, the teen's appearance told him enough. Complexion was pale and eyes were round, staring straight ahead with a glaze over his eyes, resembling a man who just watched a spirit rise from the grave.

“Jonathan, what happened?” Clark asks, tone hardening.

A rush of fear mixed in with protective instincts floods through the man at his son's response of silence.

“Jonathan.” He tries again, adding more urgency to his voice.

When Jon remained silent and continued to stare blankly, the growing parental instincts became too strong to keep at bay, Clark reached for the car handle and jumped into action. Hurrying to the passenger side, throwing the car door open, he crouched to be closer to his son’s level and placed a firm but careful hand on his upper arm in an attempt to break the boy from his trance and direct his attention to him.

“Jon, I’m gonna need you to talk to me, okay?”

Jonathan winces as he opens his mouth, “It’s happening to me..”

Worry twinges inside the man, hearing how hoarse his son’s voice sounded.

Clark blinked, “What? What’s happening?”

Jonathan takes a shaky breath and replies, slowly and barely above a whisper as if he was trying to keep his volume in check. “Powers.”

Before Clark had a chance to properly react, the teenager’s frame began to shake mildly and Jon finally tore his gaze away from the windshield, staring into his father’s eyes. Ice blue eyes were round, overflowing with fear, as tears pricked at the sides.

“I think I have powers.”


Finishing up getting dressed into more work appropriate attire, ready to meet Clark outside and lend a helping hand with Lois’ project, is put on temporary pause when a noise that sounded like multiple objects being dropped onto a hard surface at once caught the metahuman’s attention and Gar turned around to investigate, gaze promptly landing on a good sized pile of candy on their shared bedside table.

“Oh, dude, I was joking earlier about the deal thing.” Gar frowned, slipping the red checked coat over his shoulders.

It’s Jonathan’s coat, but he agreed to share since he rarely wears it and because Gar – apparently – pulls it off better than he does. Jon’s words, not his.

Jon sighed, making shoulders deflate. “I know,” Frown deepening, he raises a hand to rub the side of his neck. “but I couldn’t think of a better way to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Gar scoffs in disbelief, “You ate a strawberry? I don’t care that much.”

“Not just for that.”

The faint smile drops into frown and blooming anxiety causes the teenager’s heart to speed up, watching his roommate take a seat on the edge of his bed; keeping his gaze pointed at the floor like he was too ashamed to look Gar in the eyes.

“For every stupid thing I’ve done recently.”

Sitting next to Jonathan, Gar asks quietly: “And those were?”

“I promised you I’ll be there when you need me and I wasn’t.” Gar opens his mouth to question what situations he was alluding to, but is cut short before he could speak by Jonathan continuing. “Instead I sat under a tree for an hour, got into a fight, and to save my dumb ass you had to reveal your powers..” He pauses, then exhales. “Before you planned.”

Gar replies quickly, but keeps his tone as gentle as possible. “But I needed that, Jon. I needed something to make the decision for me or I would have kept putting off until..” He trails off, then chuckles. “That's just how I am.”

When Jonathan doesn’t respond, Gar decides to try something else. Something he knows for a fact his friend would have to protest against.

“If I have to blame you, then you have to blame me for getting shot.” He adds, hoping Jon would take the bait.

And as Gar expected, Jon's brows furrow together at that. "You didn’t get shot on purpose?"

“Right. And you-" A smile hints on the green haired teen’s lips as he pokes his index finger into roommate’s upper arm, "-didn't purposely get into a fight."

Jon takes a breath, "I mean–" He rubs the back of his neck, "I guess not."

The growing smile drops into a frown of concern, “Are you sure this is about the bonfire?” Tilting his head slightly, he reaches for the hands clasped over Jon’s lap. “Did something happen while you were out?”

“No, no– it’s just..” Jon squeezes his eyes shut. Bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, keeping the other set on his lap, not bothering Gar’s hand placed over it. “Shouldn’t you be outside? I think my dad is waiting for you."

“Nice try.” Gar smirked, “Changing the subject might work on others, but not me.”

Jon shook his head, unable to fight the smile tugging at the side of his mouth. "You're gonna keep Superman waiting?" He asks, turning to Gar and raising his eyebrows.

"It's cool." Gar shrugs, "He can wait a few more minutes."

For a moment, Jon blinked like he either couldn’t believe the response or how fast it was, then chuckled. A genuine chuckle that brought a pink tint to Gar’s cheeks.

“God, you’re stubborn.. but like, in an endearing way.”

Gar laughed at that, the accuracy of the words. He thinks living with a man more stubborn than a donkey rubbed off on him, or at least made him worse. Though Dick wasn't stubborn in an endearing way, more of a ‘I wanna smack my head against the wall’ kind of way.

Before Jonathan had a chance to speak whatever was about to leave his mouth, Gar leans forward and slides his arms under his friend’s, pulling him into a much needed embrace. A toothy grin separates his lips when Jon returns the hug as soon as it engulfs him without a hint of hesitation.

Pressing his face into the side of Jon’s neck, a purr rumbles in his throat. "Right now, Superboy is more important."

It’s silent for a brief moment, then he hears Jonathan huff through his nose.

“Later.” He feels Jon’s side of the hug tighten, “Can we talk about.. something later?”

“Of course.”


Descending the porch stairs with a tiny hop, running his hand along the railing, eyes are transfixed on the man exiting the barn with two beams of lumber balanced on his shoulders like they were nothing but a pair of toothpicks.

Brown eyes glitter with awe. I’m living with Superman.

“I was beginning to think you changed your mind.”

Clark’s voice brought the teenager back to reality.

Gar scoffs, “Nah, I just wanted to be fashionably late.” he ends with a semi-awkward laugh.

Jogging to where the Man of Steel stood, he halts and shifts his gaze between Clark and barn, asking if there’s anything he can lend a hand with. After confirming he does in fact have some level of super strength, the adult nods towards the barn, telling him there’s a few smaller beams left being stored in there if he wanted to grab those.

Accepting the task with a nod, Gar headed in the direction of the barn, iris becoming neon green along the way and veins from his shoulder to his fingertips began to raise and glow from under his skin as green blood pumped through them.

In the barn, he marched over to the pile of wooden beams, gave his shoulder a shift shake to loosen up, and grabbed a single beam, lifting it with inhuman ease and setting it on his shoulder. Repeating with another beam, placing it on his opposite shoulder.

Super strength nowhere near as strong as Superman's, Gar decides not to risk harming himself by trying to push his powers past their limits just to show off and strolls towards the open barn doors.

Outside the barn, progressing to where the four beams have been left in an area of the yard near multiple bags of gravel, the metahuman shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. Enjoying the warm rays of sun shining onto his face, contrasting the chilly air traveling into his lungs with every breath.

There's a strong woosh of air, making the teenager have to take a temporary pause. As he regains proper balance to progress further, Clark appears beside him, carrying the remaining beams.

A sort of happiness the teenager couldn't say he felt often fluttered in his chest when the Man of Steel decided to walk alongside him, knowing he could have this entire project done in a few minutes if he wanted to.

Glancing over the beam on his shoulder, Gar stared at the shadow casting trailing behind, then moved his gaze to the man's next to his. Months ago, there would be no shadow beside his because he would have been stuck in someone else's.

A proud smile curves the boy's lips as he takes another breath, puffing his chest out, walking alongside Superman, feeling like he truly is an equal for the first time in his life.

After carefully setting the wooden beams down next to their siblings, Gar turns his sparkling gaze up to the Man of Steel. "What's next?"

"Holes for the beams." Clark smiled, "Let me grab a shovel–"

"I can do that!" Gar pipes, then winces at the interruption.

Before he can squeak out an apology, Clark tilts his head slightly and asks "You can?", clearly not bothered by the cut in.

An amused half-smile tugs at the side of the teen's lips, hearing the surprise in the adult's voice. "Yeah! Just, uh, gimme a second."

Sprinting back to the barn, disappearing behind its doors, a few seconds pass before the chosen animal steps out. With the task of digging holes, you'd expect to see some breed of canine scampering it's way to Clark, but that wouldn't be the case.

Walking on it’s knuckles to advance along the desired path, keeping it's long nose to the ground to aid with direction as it's eyesight wasn't the best, and a large feather duster of tail bobbing behind it, the dark green giant anteater halts at the Kryptonian's side and points it's muzzle up at the man.

Clark chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I gotta be honest with you, I was expecting a dog."

The anteater blinked, then flexed his claws, showing off what he’d be working with.

With a nod of understanding, Clark zipped to the first area that needed a hole dug, explaining out loud where stood and where to dig instead of pointing it out like he would have done if Gar was a different animal with better eyesight or still in his human form. Adding how deep he needed the hole when the anteater appeared at his side and began to work.

The process is repeated one more time, then Clark suggests he take over for the final two, noticing how Gar was struggling with finishing the job. A suggestion the metahuman thankfully agrees to with a noise that sounded like a quiet whistle mixed with a hiss and began his path back to the barn.

Through a bright smile, Clark thanks him for the help and watches to make sure the anteater makes it to the barn (it’s parental habit, he can’t help it) before zipping to the backyard to grab the shovel he left on the porch and zipping back. He could have both holes dug in the blink of an eye but prefers to do it manually. It’s how he grew up doing things and enjoyed it.

When Garfield returns, his arms are tightly crossed over his chest and kept his head low, avoiding eye contact. “Eh, you don’t have to thank me. That wasn’t much help.”

Clark tilted his head, “You did fine.”

“I should have chosen a different animal..” Gar mumbled, keeping his gaze elsewhere. “I thought an animal able to dig through concrete would have worked.”

The man frowns, hearing the boy be so hard on himself about something so simple and wasn’t a failure in the first place. If anything, Clark was impressed with the teenager and his skills despite having his powers for a short amount of time.

“Well, I think you did a great job!” Clark smiled, then held the shovel out towards Gar. “Do you wanna try this version?”

The offer attracted the teenager’s gaze for a second and the man’s brows furrowed in confusion, seeing Gar kick at the dirt and face turn red with embarrassment.

“I don’t know how to.”

Clark blinked, “You don’t know how to shovel?”

“I’ve seen it done, but never done it myself.” Gar shrugs, shoving his hands into his coat’s pockets. “Never had to.”

Laughing softly, Clark shook his head. “I have a lot to teach you, then.” He waves the teenager over, “C’mere.”

Slowly, Gar stepped over, rolled his coat sleeves up to his elbows, and hesitantly reached for the shovel the man was handing to him. With the shovel taken from his hand, Clark points out where to hold the gardening tool to have the best grip and explains how putting a foot on the top of the blade helps with strength and control of how deep the blade goes and easier to lift out.

Confidence sparkles in the green haired teen’s eyes and does what he’s told, putting his hands at the correct position and pressing the heel of his boot into the blade’s top, sinking the sharp tip into the ground.

Pride shines in the man’s eyes, “There ya go, bud!” He praises.

When it looks like Garfield got the hang of his task, Clark announces he’ll be working on cutting the beams down to the sizes they need and leaves the teenager to his job after he gives a thumbs up as a “got it”.

By the time Lois’ car pulls into the driveway, the project is finishing up; just needed a few little touches to give it the cozy vibe that was requested.

Climbing out of his seat once the car came to a complete stop, Jordan peers over the roof and observes the new addition to the yard. “Great job, dad!” He beams.

Lois exits the car next, eyes drawn to the same thing her son stared at. "Looks amazing, babe!" She compliments, stepping closer to her husband.

"Thanks!" Clark gave her a peck on the cheek, wrapping his arm around his wife's waist, pulling her into a side embrace. "I had a helper."

Further into the yard, Garfield walks out of the barn, holding a medium sized cardboard box. Attention focused on the man, shouting to Clark where he wanted the box of lights left, he failed to notice the indent in the ground and stumbled forward, question being cut off by a cry.

An electric feeling travels through the Kryptonian's legs, preparing to zip over and catch the boy before he falls. But the teenager balances and keeps the box tightly in his grasp before super speed is required.

Gar laughed, eyes glowing green and wide from the unexpected trip. "I'm good!"

He hears Lois chuckle softly and points to the single step attached that leads into the newly built gazebo, directing Gar to leave the box there.

"He looks happy." Lois smiled.

Clark chuckles in agreement, watching Gar happily trot to the directed area. "Never had a teenager excited to work before."

After greeting Lois and Jordan when his stride pauses in front of Clark, Gar gazes up at the Man of Steel, practically bouncing in place, and eagerly asked: "What else do you need me to do, sir?"

From the car's back seat, where Jordan was grabbing grocery bags, the dark haired teen laughs. "You're making me and Jon look bad, Gar!"

Clark huffs a mini laugh at his son's comment, then gives the teen's green hair a ruffle. "I want you to take a break. You've done a lot."

Gar frowned at that, like he was disappointed he's being put on break, and Clark couldn't help but think how surprising and almost unnatural the reaction is. His sons would have already been running into the house once the word "break" was mentioned. Then he reminds himself that Gar didn’t come from your everyday family in your typical neighborhood. He had to work, to clean, to do something, admitting it gave him some sense of purpose.

"I got a pumpkin to carve!" Jordan, still leaned over the backseats, held up the orange gourd to be seen over the car's roof. "I could use someone with claws to help."

Giving the teenager a gentle push on the shoulder blade as a "go have fun", Gar sends the adult a nod and jogs to his friend's side. Helping him carry the few groceries left into the house, Lois twists to the side, gaze following the two boys ascending up the porch stairs, and orders for one of them to get Jonathan when the pumpkin carving is finished.


Jonathan would have helped with whatever project his father had planned for today but it would have taken up a lot of his day and knows his mother will be pissed if he puts off doing his school work until night again.

Turns out, when his focus isn't on keeping himself awake by any means possible, he can finish work a lot faster and with a lot less neck pain.

That might have been the one and only good thing about being stuck in the hospital actually, he went months without having to pick up a pencil– wait, now that he's thinking about it, he did have to pick up a pencil and write but not for schooling. How could he anyway when most weeks were about learning to form a coherent sentence again..

Okay, you know what, while he's grateful for all the help he got, there was nothing good about being stuck in a hospital room everyday. He is more than glad to be sitting comfortably on his bed with a laptop on his lap and bag of rainbow berry sour bites at his side.

One earbud removed from his ear to listen for the call of dinner, Jonathan lifts his gaze from his laptop's screen when a different noise catches his attention, the slow creak of his bedroom door – purposely left ajar – as it opens all on its own.

Able to see the strangely vacant hallway from where he sat, the teenager removes the laptop from his lap, pulling out the remaining earbud in the process, and gets to his feet to investigate.

"Hello?"

Poking his head around the doorway and taking a sweep of the hallway, brows furrowed together when his gaze caught sight of no one, not even something out of the ordinary. Everything is how it was when Jon came upstairs hours ago.

Mrrow!

Inhaling a sharp gasp, Jon flinches away out of instinct, then points his gaze down at the green cat standing at his side. Not the cat he carried back to their house a couple of mornings ago. It was just as fluffy but lacked multiple stripes.

A pale green, almost white, pelt designed with a large darker shade stripe running down his back until it met his tail, where the color fully took over. A mask of the same shade covers his face but is broken up in the middle by a stripe of the same pale green the rest of his pelt is. A pair of sea foam eyes blinked slowly up at him as the cat sat and curled his tail over his front paws.

"Man, you scared me!" Jon exclaimed, causing Gar to purr in amusement. "I thought the hallway was haunted or something."

The feline gets to his paws and trots in the direction of the stairs, weaving through Jon's legs along the way. Ignoring his roommate’s questioning of what's going on through a chuckle, Gar halts at the edge and twists his neck to stare at Jon, tail swishing side to side as if he was waiting for the blonde teen to follow after.

Bringing a finger up to point at the unnatural colored cat, Jon tilts his head slightly. "Is this your way of telling me dinner is ready?"

The feline meows.

"Thought so."

When the green cat doesn't move and refuses to allow Jonathan down the stairs, the teenager blinks, confused.

"What?"

The cat's gaze flickers from the blonde teen's face to his shoulder, telling Jon all he needed to know. Exhaling through the grin on his face, accompanied by a shake of his head, the teenager crouches closer to the cat's level and waits for his– currently four legged and fluffy – friend to leap onto his shoulders.

"Is this our new thing?" He asked after the green cat steadied himself, then laid down over his shoulders for better balance; creating a living, breathing scarf.

Gar emitted a squeak-like noise in response to the question as Jon slowly stood up and carefully descended the stairs, so the feline wouldn't lose balance and wobble off (and dig his claws into his back to keep from falling).

Jon raises a hand to scratch behind the feline's ear. "I'm gonna take that as a yes."

/

"Whoa- ho- ho!"

Stepping out of the house, onto the porch, blue eyes are instantly drawn to the large wooden gazebo in the yard, decorated with fairy lights strung around the four support beams and hanging from the ceiling, twinkling brightly against the darkening sky.

"That's what you and dad were building?" Jon twisted his neck to the side, gazing at the cat on his shoulder.

Gar closed his eyes, tip of his tail swishing, and purred loudly, clearly he was proud of his work and glad his friend found it impressive.

"I didn't even know mom wanted a gazebo." The teen added through a light huff of laughter.

Jon winces once Gar lunges from his shoulder and watches as the feline landed onto the ground without a stumble, sprinting towards the barn. To shift back to his human form, he guessed.

A path made of gravel crunched under the blonde teenager's shoes, heading in the direction of the gazebo. Stepping into the new addition to the front yard, Jon bounced his gaze between the built in benches on each side and the lights wrapped around the wooden beams, until it landed on the back of the gazebo, where his father was maintaining the grill and notices the plate of uncooked dinner on the grill's work table.

He was about to wonder how all of this was built in one day, but realized how dumb such a question would be when your father is Superman and friend can be any animal in the world. He's sure an elephant lent a hand in this project– or should he say: a trunk.

"Hey, buddy!" His father greets as chipper as ever, "Do you want a hotdog or hamburger?"

"If I knew the project was this big, I totally would have helped." Jon said, reaching down to run his fingertips over the bench's cushion covering. He pauses for a heartbeat to decide. "And hamburger."

"I didn't want you to." Clark protested, "After what happened earlier, I wanted you to relax."

Jon chewed his bottom lip nervously and gently rubbed his fingers over the side of his neck, clearing his throat before he spoke.

"I know you said you had to think about it, but do you have any idea what that was?"

He's never seen his father's, or Jordan's, not even Tal-Rho's throat light up red. And definitely hasn't heard any complaints about their throats burning.

Silence wasn't the response Jon had been looking for, only causing his heart to clench in his chest with worry.

"Honestly, Jonathan, I don’t have one yet." His father finally said after a silence that went on for too long for Jon's liking.

"But I promise you we'll figure this out." Clark smiled, casting a glance over his shoulder to his son. "Don't worry about it too much."

"Yeah," Jon murmured, folding his arms, taking no reassurance in his father's words. "Okay."

“Could you go grab the chairs from the backyard?” Clark asked after a few silent seconds.

Jon takes a breath, disappointed his father ended the conversation so quickly, and arms droop at his sides. “Sure..”

/

Making his way back to the gazebo, a purr causes the teen's throat to vibrate as his gaze landed on Jordan and Lois in the middle of setting the table. The sound of the Kents' laughter made his eyes sparkle with fondness, but the feeling took a sudden shift, amplifying into something that made his heart beat faster and cheeks warm up with a different type of heat when his attention is drawn to someone else.

"Let me help you with that!" Gar shouts.

Jogging to Jonathan, who was carrying multiple folding metal chairs from the backyard to the front, the blonde teen laughs and pulls away from the hands attempting to take a chair from his grasp, making Gar glance up to him in confusion.

"No way! You already did enough." Jon said, walking around his friend and continuing on.

Gar huffs through his nose like an irritated bull, then follows after his roommate with a grin on his face.

"Well, if you need help, I'm right here." Walking alongside Jon, Gar stretches his arms above and behind his head, purposely puffing his chest out like a bird showing off. "I got super strength, ya know."

"I know that." Jon chuckles, and Gar notices his roommate's face turn light red, before tilting his head slightly and raising an eyebrow. "What's up with you? I've never seen you act like this before."

"I used my powers today more than I ever had in the two years I've had them!–"

Pausing when he became aware of how loud and enthusiastic he was speaking by the twinkle of surprise in Jon's stare, cheeks flush red in mild embarrassment and clears his throat, going on in a calmer tone.

"I- I don't know why just yet but I'm not so tense. I don’t feel so–" He trailed off, deciding the best way to explain his feelings was to make a claw shape with his hands and growl, not in a human imitating a growl kind of way but in a lion right next to you kind of way.

Jonathan laughed, then guessed: "Maybe you just needed to use them more?"

"Maybe.." The smile drops, "Sorry about the cat earlier. Even if I'm there, their instincts can sometimes control my actions." Rubbing the side of his neck, he chuckles. "I really shouldn't have used you as an taxi."

"It's totally fine." Jon reassures with a smile, then shrugs. "My room is freezing, you just warmed me up quicker."

It is freezing. Gar's had to upgrade from one blanket to two once the weather began to get cooler during the day and even worse at night.

"I have animals better suited for that job than a Ragdoll cat."

Maybe he'll have to shift into a saber tooth tiger to keep him and Jonathan warm during the winter nights… That'd be a new animal. An extinct animal, he's not used to those. But if he could manage to shift into a dire wolf, there's a good chance an extinct big cat can happen too.

Jon hums at the offer, "I'll think about it."

/

Finished his dinner of baked beans and two of the best hotdogs he's tasted – which might sound dramatic to some, but this is his first time eating a hotdog from a grill instead of a microwave, Gar leans back in his seat and holds the paper bowl of barbecue chips currently being eaten against his chest.

When the weather begins to warm up, they'll have to do this cookout thing again. He's never experienced one until this evening and quite enjoyed it. Mixing his favorite things: being outside and eating– oh, and Jonathan's here too, so that makes three favorite things.

"The school's having that holiday party in a few weeks." Gar shifts his focus to Jordan, who's poking at the beans left on his plate with a fork. "But without Sarah, I don’t have anyone to go with."

Gar liked Sarah. She wasn't like the Kent brothers, so that made a good balance. Kind of sucks she had to leave early but family comes first, and with her mom running for mayor, she needed all the help she could get.

He sees Jordan look to his twin sitting across from him and knows where this is going, what the response is going to be.

"Any chance I can drag you along just to hang out so I don't look like a complete loser?"

Jon shook his head, "Not a chance." Lips pulled into a smirk, he crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, adding: "Everyone there can kiss my extraterrestrial ass."

Gar laughs softly at the expected response, but quickly quiets when Clark scolds Jonathan for said response; not approving of the language and attitude.

In which Jon responds with a faint eye roll to the side and mumbling "they can" into the plastic cup he brought up to his lips.

If saying something as simple as "ass" gets you scolded, there's no way Jason could survive here. Gar's pretty sure the previous Robin found a way to add "fuck" and each version of it into every sentence he spoke.

"I'll go with you, Jordan." Gar smiles when a sparkle appears in the dark haired teen's blue eyes. "I've never been to a school before."

"Really? Great!" Jordan piped, then tilted his head slightly. "Hey, you think I could bring you along as a reindeer? I bet that'd bring the holidays to life."

Gar chuckles at the question. A question he knows wasn't real but chooses to act like it was, that's more fun.

"I can't make my nose red."

"Doesn't matter." Jordan assures.

"It's a deal, then."

Setting his empty bowl to the side, atop the dirty paper plate, intentions of ending dinner and pitching in to help clean up the table are promptly put on hold when his gaze lands on the last remaining piece of watermelon set in the middle of the table on a glass plate.

The faint noise of a specific animal's squeaking rings throughout the teenager’s ears. Pupils shrink then dilate as rings of brown turn green. With a quick hand, he snatches the piece of fruit and plunges his fangs into the bright red insides, lapping up the melon's water and delicately tearing off chunks.

The sweet taste of fruit sends waves of serotonin through his veins, causing the remaining color in his eyes to disappear, leaving a white void in their places.

"I'm glad I decided to put out more food."

A pointed bat-like ear flickers at Lois’ good-natured tease and Gar shakes his head, squeezing his blank gaze shut until opening them resulted in a pupil and brown iris’. Red begins to warm the boy’s cheeks when all eight eyes are felt staring at him and the mess of fruit in hand.

Swiftly tossing whatever watermelon it didn't eat onto the table and wiping his hands off on a nearby napkin, only glancing up from the napkin that looked like he was tending a bloody nose when Jordan started to speak.

"What was that?" Jordan asked quietly and curiously.

"Fruit bat." Gar answers, then clears his throat before wiping the juice from his mouth with the side of his hand. “It was hungry, so it ate.”

The red tint to Gar’s cheeks becomes more apparent and a purr quietly rumbles in his throat when he feels a fingertip lightly brush against the rim of his ear, the unexpected touch making it twitch again.

The action causes the blonde teenager to retreat his finger. "Your ears are pointy." Jon said, interest piqued.

A semi-bashful laugh slips through Gar’s lips, "Yeah, they do that."

Jonathan blinked eyes glittering with awe when Gar's pointed ears began to shift and round out to match a human's.

"Can all animals do that?" Clark adds the next question, leaning forward against the table to see around Jonathan and look at Gar.

Gar shrugs as an honest answer. Random bursts of uncontrollable animalistic urges like that don’t usually happen.

"Wait, so, what about animals that.." Jordan pauses, hesitating what he was going to say next. Gar could detect fear in his voice, making him swallow hard. “Eat people?”

There’s a thump, the table shakes, and Jordan emits a shout of pain as he pulls his leg up and away from under the table. He hisses angrily and confused to his twin, asking what the hell was the kick to the shin for.

"It's not our place to ask." Jonathan growled through gritted teeth, brows furrowing as he glared at his twin.

Lois jumps in to add before Jordan could speak, “How about we keep the conversation free of powers? Yeah?”

The table goes silent after Lois’ suggestion. Biting nervously at his bottom lip, the teenager shifts uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly feeling small and trapped despite sitting out in the open with the closest thing being a few feet away.

Heart pounding in his ears, Gar’s hands begin to shake as the memory of a tiger standing amongst bright, colorful carnival lights flashed in his mind, clawed paws and muzzled soak with blood. He felt frozen as his mind took him into the not-so long ago past, breathing picks up and tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes.

Thankfully, the brewing storm is put to ease before it reaches uncontrollable when a hand is placed on his shoulder. He didn’t know how, but a wave of calm crashed over him at the touch and emotions threatening to rage melted away.

“Come on.” Jonathan said barely above a whisper, then excuses both of them.

After a brief moment of hesitation, fear trying to keep him frozen in one spot, Gar removes himself from his seat and follows after Jonathan, walking close at his side.

“Let me teach you how to play cornhole.” Jon chuckles warmly, and the boy's heart flutters in his chest. A much better feeling than the previous. "I can't imagine the Titans taught you how to play."

Normally Garfield wouldn’t leave the table until he’s cleaned up his mess, but right now going with his friend to engage in a distraction from the thoughts swirling in his brain seemed like the best thing to do.


"So, no conversations about powers?"

Lois chuckles as she dumps the dirty silverware into the sink to be washed.

"I was talking to the boys." She clarifies, then grabs the nearby hand towel to dry her hands. "How did the talk go with Jonathan?"

Clark takes a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not as I expected, really."

"Why?" Turning around, the woman leans back against the countertop and folds her arms over her chest. "What'd he say?"

"Nothing for you to be concerned about." If Jonathan was lying, Clark would have been able to tell.

Knowing his wife isn't going to be happy that he didn't get to discuss what they agreed on, the man's lips pull into an awkward grin and shoulders tense out of habit. Diving his hands into his front jeans pockets, he continues.

"But I didn't get to talk much with him.."

"Clark."

"Something else happened that was a little more important."

Lois raises an eyebrow as a sign to go on and explain.

"I think Jonathan has powers, or is getting powers." He sighs, "I can't tell what it is just yet."

His wife's expression changes so fast it could've given you whiplash. Alarm is painted on her face as she uncrosses her arms and moves closer to her husband.

"How can you not tell?" She asked, rather loudly.

"What he described.. I- I never heard it before." His father taught him everything he needed to know about Krypton and its people, what the yellow sun's rays do to them, and what powers they give. What Jonathan said, it wasn’t recognizable, didn't match anything Clark had learned. "I'll ask my mother about it tomorrow. Maybe she knows something my father didn't."

"You're taking him to the Fortress with you, then?"

Clark frowns at the urgency in his wife's voice, eyes darkening. "I can't. Not yet."

When Lois questions his reasoning, Clark admits he overheard Jonathan talking with Jordan a few mornings ago. The younger twin expressed how excited he is to be able to attend the Harvest Fest with someone this year, wondering aloud if he'll finally understand why their father likes it so much, and that maybe it'll be special for him too.

The twins' birthday isn't far after the Harvest Fest either.

"If my mother doesn't know either, there's a chance she'll insist Jonathan stay at the Fortress for testing."

Lois' expression softens, but Clark could see the internal debate going on behind her eyes.

"She could see him as a danger." Clark explains, pulling his hands out of his pockets and placing them behind him on the island's surface for support as he leans back. "I don't want Jonathan to miss out on something he's excited about."

A faint smile appears on the man's lips, thinking about his son's genuine excitement for something Clark found so wonderful in the past. It doesn't stay long however. The frown returns and he averts his darkened gaze away from his wife to the floor.

"It feels like it's been so long since I've seen him so happy." He adds quietly.

"When would you take him?" Lois asked.

"The day after his birthday." Clark replied, "Until then, I'll keep a close eye and ear on him."

Even if he has to break his promise he made to his boys: no using super hearing to eavesdrop. At the first sight or sound of anything too abnormal to ignore, Jonathan will be escorted to the Fortress. It doesn't matter what day it is.

Lois sighs, "I guess it is only a week away.."

Stepping towards the refrigerator, the man opens it and pulls out a bottle of wine. It's routine for the adults at this point, enjoying a small cup of wine after dinner to wind down from an exhausting day of work. Even though Clark isn't affected by the alcohol, the man enjoys sharing their nightly routine with his wife and the conversations that come with it.

"If he's gonna have to be stuck at the Fortress for a while, I want him to have fun beforehand, so he's not just ripped away from life out of the blue again."

He knows for a fact his son will protest greatly against the decision, hating being stuck in one place, especially if he's being touched and looked at while there. Which is a guarantee to happen if Lara needs to run tests on him.

Getting him to a yearly check up at the hospital and dentist was always a battle because of it.

"So, you'll be letting him know he's taking a trip to the Fortress after his birthday?"

Lois holds her glass out and Clark pours a bit of wine into the cup, then pours the dark red liquid into the glass his wife handed to him.

He nods, "Once the Harvest Fest is over, I'll tell him the plans."

With glasses of wine in hand, the couple strolls outside side by side and takes their respective seats on the porch. Settling down into the familiar white wicker chair, the man takes a sip of his drink and peers out to the yard, watching his sons in the middle of a game for a moment before returning his attention to his wife.

"I'm starting to think there's something up with the Harvest Fest." Lois looks at her husband with a glint of suspicion in her eyes and half smile on her face. "Like you're expecting something to happen and don't want anything to get in the way of it."

Clark chuckles at the question, "I just want Jonathan to enjoy the night."

Lois hummed in disbelief, "I think you want Jonathan to turn the Harvest Fest into a date."

The couples’ discussion is put on hold once their sons’ shenanigans become too loud to turn into background noise and give the boys their full attention, whatever nonsense they were getting themselves into seemed more interesting at the moment.

"I might suck at football, but you suck at cornhole!" Jordan announced smugly, tossing the small bag up and down in his hand. "Guess sports boy can't play 'em all."

Jon rolls his eyes, "Whatever. Just throw the bag."

The dark haired teen smirked as he aimed, then threw the bag. Expectations of the bag landing and securing a win are promptly shattered when a blur of green hops between the two boards, snatching the bag out of the air, causing Jordan to gasp and stumble backwards.

A few paw leaps away, a green australian shepherd with a merle coat pattern comes to a stand still. His almost non-existent tail wags excitedly side to side. Gazing at the boys with forest green eyes glittering, the dog musters a bark despite the bag in his mouth and nods his head to the side like he was daring his friend to chase after him.

Jordan snaps his head to the side to glare at Jonathan, who's looking at his twin with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"This was your plan, wasn't it?" Humor colors the teen’s tone, "You can't win on your own so you ask Gar to help you cheat?"

"Hey, it wasn’t my idea." The sunnier twin puts his hands up in defense, then adds quietly. "I just went along."

Jordan shook his head, "You're a terrible liar."

Jon shrugs at the claim as the green dog proudly trots over to the blonde teen and sits next to him, keeping the bag securely between his teeth.

"Now," The teenager gives his arms a good stretch, loosening up his joints, then gets into the correct position (according to him) to toss the bag perfectly. "I, Jonathan Samuel Kent The Second, will finally win at this dumb game!"

Surroundings fall silent. All eyes – including canine – are on the blonde teenager as he took a final breath to compose and eyes narrowed in focus. He took a single step back and let go.

It felt like the world slowed in motion as the bag flew through the air, you could practically hear Jonathan’s heart pounding in his chest as it landed onto the board with a thump, and the world snapped back into regular motion when the bag bounced off the board’s edge and fell to the ground.

Eyes widened and cheeks turned red when Jordan exploded into a burst of laughter, pointing at the fallen bag laying defeated on the ground.

“I hate this stupid game!” Jonathan growled, kicking at the board next to him. The scowl morphs into a frown and memory clouds the teen’s gaze as he rubs a hand around the wrist that was shattered years ago. He mumbles, “I used to have an accurate aim..”

Ears pin back at the teenager not-so-happy reminiscing and the green dog gets to his paws, padding over to Jordan’s board. Climbing up the slanted wood, Gar barks to grab Jon’s attention and proceeds to drop the bag into the board’s hole when he’s sure his roommate’s eyes are on him.

Jonathan throws his arms up in celebration and cheers: “and I win anyway”, making Jordan roll his eyes as he bends down to pick up the bag his brother threw off the ground. Dark blue eyes sparkled with mischief when his twin broke out into what could be called victory dance, giving the bag a single toss in his hand, a smirk tugs at the side of Jordan’s lips.

Once his aim is where he wants it, the bag is launched and a grin of satisfaction stretches across his face when the bag collides with the back of his brother’s head, putting an end to the stupid dance.

“Ow!” Jon hissed, whipping around to glare at his twin. “That shit was heavy!”

Jordan snorts, clearly pleased he got a reaction out of his brother. “Sorry, but I had to put an end to that awful dance.”

“If you told me a few months ago that we’d be sitting on our porch, watching our sons play cornhole with a teenager who came from another earth and can turn into animals..” The woman swirls the red liquid around in her glass. Smiling, she turns to gaze at her husband and giggles, “I would have thought you were crazy.”

“And I wouldn’t blame you.” Clark huffed a mini laugh, “I couldn’t believe I was watching an anteater earlier.”

“He turned into an anteater?” Lois blinked, curiously. “Why?”

“To dig the holes for the gazebos.” Clark nodded towards the finished project, “I didn’t know anteaters could dig so well. I thought they just–” He shrugs, “ate ants.”

Laughing softly, the woman shifts her attention back to the group of teenagers, who moved on from throwing the bag into a hole to throwing it at each other. She shook her head, taking a swig of wine, not daring to get involved in whatever is going on. Instead, her gaze moves to Garfield, who decided to lay down and watch the bag be thrown back and forth. Guess he didn’t want to get involved either.

Hazel eyes darken and smile curves into a frown as she focuses on the green dog, bringing a reminder of what happened earlier in the day, something she tried to forget, at least for today. An unexpected and unwanted call to their home while she was filing old documents and stories.

“My dad called again.” Lois’ gaze drops to her glass, grip tightening around the cup. “Asking why we told him it’s not a good time to visit.”

The mood shifts, she could feel it. Clark tensed up at the words.

“If my dad–” She pauses, “if the d.o.d finds out about Gar.”

“They won’t.” Clark reassures, quickly and firmly.

“But what if they do, Clark?” The woman snapped. Volume higher than she would have preferred, she takes a breath and quiets, not wanting to draw the teenagers’ attention. “You know what happens then, and we can’t let that happen. They’ll take Gar and keep him in that god forsaken school.”

A school she knows for a fact isn’t a school. More of a prison where the D.O.D keeps metahumans locked up, observed and studied like animals. If they comply, that is. If they don’t listen, fight back against the unfair treatment, or prove themselves to be too dangerous– there’s one less metahuman for the D.O.D to worry about.

There’s not a doubt in her mind that her father would see Garfield as a threat despite Garfield not doing a single thing to even suggest he is one.

“He’s not gonna listen to Superman.” She reminds her husband, already seeing the gears turning in his head. “The only reason you, and the boys, aren’t locked away in a facility is because you agreed to work with him.”

“I’ll think of something.” Lois’ frown deepens at her husband’s words, how serious his tone became. Anxiously, she traced the glass' rim with her fingertip and dropped her gaze to her lap. “I won’t let them take him to the d.o.d.”

If only it was that easy.


Sitting cross-legged on his bed, head tilted down with damp curls stuck to his forehead, scrolling aimlessly on his phone is interrupted by a bed's familiar creak.

Dragging his gaze up from his phone to his friend sitting across from him, on the edge of his bed, clad in green plaid pajama pants and a black tank top. A light redness warms the blonde teenager's cheeks for a brief moment before he frowns, seeing concern in the brown eyes gazing at him.

"Do you still wanna talk about it?" Gar paused, "What happened earlier?"

"Um.." He averts his gaze and bites his lower lip, lifting a hand to fiddle with the earring pierced at the top of his ear. After a sigh, he tosses his phone onto the bed. "Sure, why not."

It's probably best to talk about it rather than to sit around and dwell on it, right?

Garfield scoots back, moving towards the head of his bed, giving Jonathan room to join him. A space Jon doesn't hesitate to take, climbing onto the bed and sitting in front of his friend.

"Okay, start from the beginning.." Gar chuckles, shoulders shrugging slightly. "Or whatever you wanna start."

A smile appears on the teenager's face before swiftly morphing back into a frown. He averts his gaze once more, swallows what nerves he had, then takes a breath. Blue eyes darken and he returns his focus to his friend.

"Earlier, when I was talking with dad, my throat started burning.."

Notes:

next chapter:
Jonathan and Garfield attend Smallville's yearly Harvest Feast together and the night takes turn neither boy could have expected. Meanwhile, Superman is called into the D.O.D by Samuel Lane for questioning.

Chapter 13: The Harvest Fest

Summary:

Jonathan and Garfield attend Smallville's yearly Harvest Feast together and the night takes turn neither boy could have expected. Meanwhile, Superman is called into the D.O.D by Samuel Lane for questioning.

Notes:

(drops this long-ass chapter down like a bag of bricks and runs off, evil laughter fading away as I gain distance)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It's cold. Much colder than it's ever been in San Francisco. Every breath exhaled is followed by a cloud, but despite the morning chill, Garfield continued to dive the metal spoon into the carton and scoop out ice cream, enjoying the taste of milk chocolate.

Probably not the best thing to be eating as the sun just rose, he knows, just didn’t really care.

Gar hadn't seen a sunrise before so when Jonathan suggested they get up early enough to watch it, he agreed, and it was beautiful. The way the sun brought a sea of color to the lightning sky, painting it multiple hues of yellow, red, and orange, matching the autumn designed trees surrounding.

He almost felt stupid for being able to truthfully say "I never saw a sunrise until I was sixteen", but guesses he couldn’t blame himself– when he lived in Doom Manor, that is. He never wanted to rise and shine earlier than ten thirty when living in the tower.

Never saw it as important.

Here, however, everything felt important and not in a life endangering kind of way, but in a 'I never got a chance to do that then, so I'll do it now' way. And he genuinely enjoys it, every new thing he's experienced, there hasn't been a moment he disliked. Well, getting shot was sucky but at least he got to return to a house full of people who care about him…

You know what? That's his favorite part of being stuck on a new earth: the family who – by some miracle – were the ones to come across him laying in the street like roadkill.

So, maybe it's less the experience itself and more of the company that comes with it. Like right now, watching the sunrise for the first time was amazing, but the teenager with curly blonde hair sitting next to him made the moment special in ways he couldn’t describe, making him feel a way he didn't know how to describe either.. a feeling he's been experiencing a lot as of lately.

"Before I, like, pass out, can I ask you a question?"

After setting the tub of ice cream onto the wicker table in between their seats, Gar turns his attention to Jon and grabs the lapel of his coat, pulling it tighter around his frame for warmth.

"Sure." He blinked, curious about the upcoming question.

As if it was prompted by the response, the blonde teenager’s cheeks suddenly flush red, making Gar tilt his head slightly.

Scratching the side of his neck and averting his gaze to something that wasn’t Garfield, Jonathan seemed to hesitate for a heartbeat as an inner debating went on behind his ice blue eyes until finally dragging his gaze back to look at Gar.

A twinge of anxiety makes the metahuman’s heart pound, which he thought was strange since he wasn’t anxious a moment ago, thoughts weren’t on anything that’d make him nervous. Then just as quick as the feeling took him over, it melted away and left Gar as he was before the spike of nervousness, like it never affected him.

It felt familiar, though. Like it’s happened before..

"That-" The sunnier teen clears his throat, causing Gar to be pulled out of his thoughts and focus on Jon again. "Harvest Fest is tonight and I just wondered if you would like to go.." He pauses, "with me?"

It's Gar's face warming red now, able to feel the blood rushing into his cheeks. A smile slowly creeps onto his face as he lifts a hand to grab the collar of his coat and tugs it forward out of habit.

"Totally, yeah." He agrees, voice cracking slightly.

He thought they were going anyway, but something about Jonathan asking to go together, only them, made his heart grow in his chest and want to excuse himself to scream into his coat– or something like that.

Jon swallowed before a matching smile parted his lips, "Cool."

"Cool." Gar echoed, adding a faint chuckle.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he stays silent for a few moments before popping them and throwing a thumb over his shoulder to point at the house.

“We probably should get some sleep then.”

Jonathan groans tiredly, stretching his arms over his head, then slaps his palms against the chair's arms and gets to his feet.

"I think that's your best idea yet, Garf." He grinned.

Garf? That's a new one. He thought, smiling.

Standing from the white wicker seat he's been sitting in for hours, he groans as well (dear gods, he's turning into Dick) and follows after his roommate, who's opening the front door.

Both teenagers emit a gasp of surprise when the door opens to reveal Clark, who was in the process of opening the door from his side.

"Boys?" Clark asked, sounding more confused than upset.

Gar opens his mouth to explain the situation, only to have his intentions put to an end by Jonathan. The blonde teenager's tired smile drops, curving into a frown of exasperation, and shoulders past his father, progressing towards the stairs.

He grumbles, "Don't worry, I didn't run away this time."

Gar frowned, watching his roommate advance upstairs, aware of what caused the attitude change. Something they discussed the night of the cookout a few days ago.

"We stayed up to watch the sunrise." Gar turns his gaze up to Clark, putting on a smile. "He gets grumpy when he's tired."

Which isn't really a lie.

With a half-assed chuckle of assurance, Gar steps around the man, following his roommate’s footsteps, and retreating to their bedroom.

Pausing in the doorway, lips in a frown, eyes on his roommate as he slips his coat off and lazily tosses it onto the floor instead of hanging it up in his closet like he normally would.

"Have you tried to talk to your dad about it?"

Jonathan sighs, then plants himself on the edge of his bed. "Yeah, for like the past two days, but he keeps brushing it off like it's nothing."

Falling back onto his mattress, he adds. "But I'm not gonna think about that. Right now I’m gonna get some sleep.”

When Jon is situated under his multiple blankets, finds the most comfortable position to sleep in, he grabs his phone off the bedside table and sends Gar a playful smirk, accompanied by a chuckle. “I’m gonna set an alarm so you don’t sleep too long.”

Lips curve into a genuine smile this time as Garfield rolls his eyes, scoffing softly at the jab before stepping into their room, shutting the door behind him, and moving towards his bed.

“When does this Harvest Fest start, again?” He asks after falling onto his bed; not caring to take his coat off or getting under the covers. To him, this is a nap.

Jon hummed in thought, “It’s from six to midnight, I think.”

“Kay.”

That’s plenty of time for a good catnap.


Using the front facing camera on his phone for a reflection, Jon ran a hand through his hair, blonde curls bouncing back into place after the touch. The teenager grumbles in frustration.

Why does it seem like he can never get his hair to look the way he prefers when it's important.

Movement out of the corner of his eye grabs the teenager’s attention. Seeing it's Jordan who strolled into the kitchen, Jonathan returns to the attempts at fixing his hair.

"So, you going tonight or what?" He asks, sending another glance at his brother.

After grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator, Jordan steps over to the island. "Yup, Sarah's gonna be on facetime."

Leaning forward against the island, using his arms for support, he raises a fist to gently punch Jon's upper arm. "But don't worry, I won't intrude on your date." He grins, raising his eyebrows.

The tease causes Jon to roll his eyes. Putting his phone away in his back jeans pocket, raising the white flag, clearly his hair doesn’t want to work with him tonight.

"I already told you it's not a date, like twenty times today." He murmured, popping the collar of his current favorite coat. Semi-puffy, icicle blue, with a quilt-like appearance.

"And why not?"

Jordan’s questions continued, of course. Annoying but also a tad bit humorous since his dark haired twin liked to complain that Jon was too persistent with questions when he wanted to know something. They’re brothers, they’re supposed to bug each other.

"Because if I do something stupid and I ruin our friendship, I'll never forgive myself." Jon sighed, diving his hands into his coat pockets. "I– I can't do that."

Thankfully it seemed like Jordan understood the decision by the slow nod and frown, and obvious fact that he stopped talking about it. Moving onto texting Sarah, if Jonathan had to guess.

"I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea."

A third voice enters the air, breaking the unspoken bubble of awkward silence, attracting both young men’s attention towards the hallway, where their shapeshifting housemate was advancing down.

Pausing his stride once he entered the kitchen, tugging at the collar of the long-sleeved navy blue shirt he sported, Gar sends his friends a semi-bashful grin. “I feel like a mannequin in a shopping mall.”

The blonde teenager’s slightly hunched posture quickly straightens, shoulders tensing and heart pounding in his ears, blood rushing to his cheeks making his face look like someone colored it red marker.

As if it had a mind of its own – or completely out of ‘human’ instinct – an icy gaze roamed to every article of clothing. Jean jacket perfectly framing the person it was attached to and matching quite well with the shirt Jonathan remembers picking out when they were at the mall that was tucked behind a belt and fitted jeans lacking the usual rips and tears, the cuffs bunched up where the fabric met the fancier black boots he wore.

But the thing that oddly stuck out the most: a familiar necklace with a rusty key hanging around his neck.

He thought Gar lost it the night of the bonfire since his friend had to remove his clothes and anything related to shapeshift, and hadn't seen it since that evening. Maybe he went back for it when he disappeared from the group to shift back to his human form.

Gar really likes that necklace.. Jon thought, some kind of pride he wasn’t sure he'd felt before making his eyes sparkle.

Gaze staying on the green teenager, Jordan steps over his twitterpated twin and gives his shoulder a subtle shake in attempts to bring the alien back to earth. "Well, my brother thinks you look great! Right, Jo?”

Jon clears his throat, “Yeah, totally..” Then moves over to his roommate, directing a playful smirk his way. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you dressed up.” He ends, half teasing, half genuine.

Gar’s eyes drift down for a split second, then returns to gaze at Jon with a matching smirk. “And I think this is the first time I’ve seen you wear jeans that weren’t skin tight.”

The red coloring Jonathan's cheeks became more apparent when the comment made Jordan explode into a fit of laughter behind them. Then began to speak again once his brother quieted.

"I decided I wanted blood flow tonight." Jonathan murmured, then swiftly switched the topic. Jordan didn’t need anything else to laugh about. "I like how you styled your hair. Did you straighten it or something?"

It’s normally spiky; somehow soft and fluffy despite the gel he uses to style, if he does use gel? Jon’s never seen him use it. Maybe his hair is naturally like that. Currently it’s styled to the left in a thick-ish wave instead of wild spikes sticking out everywhere, showing off more of his darker green roots.

"Yeahh.." Brown eyes point up as Gar lifts a hand to run through the green wave, "It could look better, but thanks for the pity compliment anyway."

"It wasn't pity!" Jon protested, giving his friend a careful shove to the shoulder. An action making Gar chuckle. "Dude, you look amazing!"

"Now!" He slides an arm under Gar's, locking them together, and advances towards the front door. "Allow me to escort you to a night of fun and very unhealthy food!”

As he came to expect, he hears his roommate’s signature feline-like purr as he strolls alongside.

"Sounds great." Gar smiles, “I’m hungry!”

Jon huffs a mini laugh, shaking his head. “How are you always hungry?” He asks, using his unlocked arm to reach for the front door.

Gar shrugs honestly.

Exiting onto the porch felt like walking into a wall, Jonathan stopping dead in his tracks, hesitating and brows pulling together in thought. The strong feeling of “forgetting something” washing over him. Racking his brain for what he could possibly be missing until it hit him, a strange realization it is, though.

It didn’t sound important? Why would he need that? Should he be scared? Are questions he mentally asked himself as an object he hasn’t used in years called him from upstairs, where it sat on a shelf collecting dust, making sure Jonathan knew how important it was he brought it along.

He’s frozen in place. It’s not letting him step off this porch until he retrieves it.

Despite all the scoldings in the past, maybe he should listen to his gut one more time.

Jonathan blinked out of his trance and gazed at Garfield at his side when the green haired teenager verbally expressed his concern, asking if everything was okay.

“Wha- Oh, yeah! I just-” Jonathan unlocks arms with his friend, then backs up through the front door. “I just gotta get something from my room.”

“Kay, I’ll meet you at your truck, then.”

“Yeahh.. About that.” Jon chuckles semi-awkwardly, hesitating in the doorway. “My mom is driving it because Jordan needs her car.”

Gar glanced over his shoulder, pointing his gaze in the direction of the tiny town. “So, we’re walking all the way to town?” He asked, turning back to Jon with an eyebrow raised.

“Yuuup,” He pops the “p” at the end, then continues. “Sure seems like it.” Sending his friend a smirk, he adds. “I can carry you back if you’re tired.”

Jon’s grin morphs into one of satisfaction when his friend laughs and shakes his head, cheeks flushing red at the comment. Priding himself on how easily he can make his friend laugh. That should have been his superpower; not whatever almost happened in that gas station bathroom.

Thank god that hasn’t happened again.

“No, I’m good, man.” Gar dives his hands into the front jeans pockets, a smile stuck to his face. “But thank you for the offer.”

Jonathan nods, then disappears inside, heading up to his bedroom.


This is not what downtown Smallville looked like when he visited it weeks ago.

Lights strung from anything they could be attached to, multi-colored and twinkling like tiny rainbows trapped inside bulbs. The streets lined with vendors, from selling things Gar had no idea existed or what they were called to different types of food all blending together to make one delicious smell.

Enhanced hearing busy bouncing between the many groups of people surrounding him, unintentionally eavesdropping on their conversation for a brief second, it fails to warn the teenager of upcoming pop, catching him off guard.

Jumping back like a spooked cat, shouting in response to the unexpected noise, Gar collides with Jonathan next to him and feels his friend rest his hands on his upper arms, attempting to ease his sudden spike in anxiety.

“It’s okay,” Jon points to the rather dated machine placed next to a vendor. "just that machine.”

Gar blinks, “What is that?”

“It’s like an old-timey-ice cream machine, I think.” Jon explained with a simple shrug.

He didn't know there were such things as old-timey-ice cream machines?

"Oh.." Cheeks flushing light red in embarrassment, Gar steps away from his roommate and lifts a finger to point at a booth where a man is spinning a thin paper cone around a large metal tin. "What's that?"

Jon glanced at the booth in question, "That? It’s a dude making cotton candy."

Gar hums in thought, tilting his head slightly. He's heard of the treat before and like many other things, seen it in photos, but never smelled it before. Its scent is awfully sweet, almost sickeningly, sugar flooding his enhanced smelling.

"If it's sugar you're after, I know something that tastes much better than cotton candy."

A smile tugs at the side of Gar’s lips when Jonathan wraps an arm over his shoulder, pulling him into a side embrace, and progresses deeper into the festival, being guided towards whatever destination his roommate had in mind.

“Which is?” Gar asks, then chuckles as Jon sighs almost longingly and leans into him, making him stumble to the side.

“The best thing mankind has ever made: funnel cake!”

Nodding at the response, the teenager stays silent and presses his lips into a thin line, averting his gaze elsewhere. An action that verbalized his thoughts without having to speak them.

Jon blinks, “You don’t know what funnel cake is? Do you?”

Dragging his gaze back to his blonde friend, the smile returns to his face, and he exclaims: “Nope!”

"Didn't think so."

Happily listening as Jonathan jumped straight into an explanation of the signature fair food, Gar couldn’t lie that the treat sounded delicious, but the feeling moves to the backseat of his mind when Jon’s voice begins to fade away, replaced with a soft hum that promptly turns into ringing. A rather loud ringing that blocked out any other sound around him, like what happened at the mines.

Doing the only thing he was able, he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, hoping whatever his hearing is currently focused on will let go and redirect back to Jon.

Thankfully it’s not too long before the noise got too overwhelming. The ringing dies down and his friend’s – who paused their stride – questions of worry begin to fade back in, starting off as fuzzy and incoherent words, then clears up and things seem to return to normal.

“What’s going on?”

Gar frowned at the obvious fear detected in Jon’s voice as he spoke.

“My hearing just picked up something.” Curving the frown, Gar flashes Jonathan a reassuring smile, hoping he’d believe it. “It does that when I’m around a lot of sound. It’s, uh, good now, though.”

The smile becomes genuine once Jonathan chuckles, then dives his hands into his coat pockets.

“Remind me to buy you some earplugs then.” Jon said. “I think they could come in handy.”

“I don’t know..” Gar hums in mock thought, then playfully elbows Jonathan in the arm. “They could be an earful.”

Tilting his head down and placing his face in his palms, Jon groans in fake exasperation. "Dudeee.."

There's a beam of amusement on the blonde teenager's face as he lifts his head and points his sparkling gaze at Garfield. "Do you have, like, a file of puns in your brain to use or whatever?"

Gar rolled his eyes at the question, "Come on." Smirking, he bumps his shoulder into Jon’s. “You know you love how cheesy and bad they are."

The shapeshifter’s heart grows in his chest, eyes glittering with affection, noting how his roommate’s nose would scrunch up and ice blue eyes squeeze shut as he laughed and shook his head slightly. It’s a little thing Gar noticed rather quickly into their friendship and now he couldn't help but mentally point it out every time Jonathan laughed.

“Okay, maybe I do.” Jon admitted, then pinched his index fingertip and thumb together. “Just a lil’ bit.”

Gar huffed through his nose as a mini laugh, a grin appearing on his face afterwards; almost prideful.

That's all he needed to hear.

“Here, try.”

Taking the plate handed to him, blinking down at the treat Jon gushed over that resembled a pancake designed to look like a spider web with powdered sugar covering the top, even on the plate– which is for dipping, according to Jon.

Tearing a little piece off with his fingers, Gar pops the treat into his mouth and flavor explodes across his tongue, coating every inch of it. As if he was a cartoon character, the teenager’s pupil dilated and sparkled at the new, wonderful taste. It’s just a power thing.

Black bears like sugar.

“It’s like I ate a fancily dressed pancake.” Gar smiled, “It’s delicious.”

“See! I told you so.”

“I’m never gonna doubt you again.” Gar said, then continued to eat the treat in hand.

Jon nodded, jokingly agreeing with his green haired friend that he shouldn’t be doubted.

Now that they had their snack for travel, Jonathan steps away from the funnel cake vendor and Gar begins to trail after, buddying up at his side. Enjoying every bite of funnel cake while listening to Jon take up the role of tour guide, gesturing to specific areas of the festival and booths to explain what they are, because there’s not a chance in Hades that Gar would have known what all the farming equipment around him was called.

Some of the homemade decorations Jon was pointing out and up for sale on different booths and under tents looked interesting. They reminded him that compared to Jonathan’s side of their room, which was decorated with things the blonde teen liked, his was quite bland, lacking any kind of personality. The complete opposite of his previous bedrooms.

His - broken - supersuit carefully folded up in a thin plastic tub and stored under his bed being the only thing of his in their bedroom. Everything else he shares with Jonathan.. Besides clothes. If you don’t count the first few weeks he lived there.

“Glad to see you out and about again, Jonathan!”

Gar snaps his head to the side to investigate when an unfamiliar voice enters the air. Seeing an older woman, probably mid 50s, sat at her booth and waved to the friend at his side, who’s smile grew brighter and waves back.

The boys' attention is grabbed by the other side of the street, where another woman - much younger than the previous - shouted in their direction and held a toddler on her hip while her husband was chatting with another couple, both stopped in the street.

“You look well, Jon! Tell your parents we said hi!”

He hears Jonathan respond with a simple thanks and adding a: "I will, Mrs. Locke", before he turns to Gar and presses his smiling lips together into one of embarrassment as his cheeks flushed red and raises his eyebrows. A face that said "this is what happens when you disappear for two years" without needing to say it.

And Gar could only chuckle.

Jon clears his throat, cheeks losing their red tint. “Are you ever gonna give me some of that?” He points to the plate in Gar's hand, "I thought we were sharing.”

Tearing off a piece of the powdered dough, lifting it up to Jon’s mouth to be eaten, is promptly interrupted by a group of children crossing their path, running the other side of the street; making the teenagers stop dead in their tracks.

Unable to suppress his burst of laughter at the near accidental collision, the shapeshifter turned his gaze to Jonathan, who’s blue eyes were round in surprise and had his hand placed over the heart area of his chest, but joined in on the laughter.


Standing in front of their bedroom mirror, clad in appropriate attire for the night plans: a well-needed date while the boys attend the Harvest Fest. Clark tightened the plain navy blue tie around his neck, then casted a glance to the side when his hearing picked up footsteps advancing to the bedroom.

“Ready to go?" Lois asked, stepping into the room and moving closer to Clark.

Clark smiles, "Yup."

"Great."

The smile drops into a frown, watching his wife progress over to fix his tie. Hazel eyes were dark with unspoken thoughts, he could see it all swirling around her mind, and had an idea what was bothering her.

"What do you think Jonathan is up to?" She asks the question Clark had been expecting to hear.

"Lois." He sighs, then puts on a reassuring smile. "I'm sure he's fine. I trust him."

He believed his son’s words about not wanting to jeopardize his friendship. Being a friend, a good friend, is something he knows Jonathan takes seriously. He’d never do something out-of-pocket out of desperation or anything else. Make a poor decision like sneaking out? Sure, but never in a purposeful, spiteful way. That’s just not his son’s character. So, there’s no way he’d attempt anything inappropriate.

Sometimes it feels like he and his wife don’t see Jonathan the same way at all.

“That’s nice you can.” His wife murmured, turning away from the Kryptonian man.

Clark frowns, rubbing the side of his neck. “I know you like to keep your reasonings to yourself, but I’m starting to think there’s more going on than just Jonathan.”

Back turned to Clark, Lois remained silent.

“Is it your dad?” He asks, carefully and quietly, like trying to maneuver through a room full of trip-wires.

Lois winces, “No, it’s..” She trails off, then runs a quick hand through her styled hair, “A lot right now.”

“Hey, I get it.” Clark said, voice soft with empathy, and stepped over to his wife, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Our lives-” He chuckles quietly, “They took a major change over the past months. I understand if you’re stressed.”

Neither of them could have expected their home would gain another teenage boy, another mouth to feed, someone else to take care of and keep safe alongside their sons. Even as Superman and what kind of life that brings, a teenager from another earth with the ability to shapeshift into animals is far from their normal.

But he’s glad fate decided to drop Garfield onto their earth; nothing could change that.

A playful smirk tugs at the side of the Kryptonian’s lips. Aware of the fact that his wife wasn’t ready to open up yet, to release the storm in her brain, he respects her decision and tries to lighten the mood. Get her festive spirits to return.

“If I’m being honest with you, I’m not surprised Jonathan likes Garfield.”

Lois sends a matching smirk over her shoulder, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

Clark hums in thought, though he already knew his answer. “Didn’t he have a crush on Tag Harris? He was metahuman too.”

Lois huffs a mini laugh, then twists around to face her husband, a suspicious glint in her eyes. “Are you suggesting our son has a type? Non-humans?”

Clark shrugs, “Clearly, he gets it from you.”

Lois scoffs, crossing her arms. “Sure, but you’re forgetting you’re the only non-human I’ve dated.”

The man opened his mouth to argue, but had not a single fact or specific scenario he could think up to challenge the statement, so he deflated his shoulders in defeat.

“I got nothing to combat that with.”

His heart flutters with affection, blue eyes shining, when Lois laughs softly. Being able to make his wife laugh has to be the best non-super power he found himself owning.

Nodding towards the doorway, he echoes Lois’ question from minutes earlier. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, please!” Lois exclaimed, whipping around and advancing to the room’s exit. “I need a night out of this - obviously teenage boy lived in - house!”

And that’s the exact reason why Clark hasn’t used super smell in years.


“You do know this stuff is rigged, right? You're not gonna win."

The shapeshifter wore an amused smirk, using his elbows to keep propped up as he leaned back against the carnival booth's surface, watching Jonathan hand a couple dollars to the man who ran the game. A man Jon introduced Gar to as one of the teachers who taught at the high school he used to attend.

So you can imagine the older man recognized Jonathan the moment he stepped up to the booth and seemed glad to see him again, making the classic comment about how tall he’s gotten since he saw him last.

“Please," Jon scoffed at the doubt, "I got sick aim."

Gar raised an eyebrow, "I thought you couldn't aim?"

"I can't aim into a stupid little hole." His roommate corrected, tossing the ball up and down in his hand. "These are bottles I can actually see."

Lips pressed into a smile, Gar shook his head and rolled his eyes to the side.

As rude as it sounds, he didn’t expect his friend to win the game. It had nothing to do with Jonathan or his skills, though he’s never seen him play football, Gar doesn’t doubt he’s good at it. It’s more of the fact that all carnival games are rigged so the player loses, it’s common knowledge. Which he only knows because of Robotman, who ranted about the topic during dinner one night.

Cliff always ranted about the weirdest things..

But that's very much besides the point. The point is he didn't expect the game to go the way it did. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jonathan launch the ball, followed by the sound of bottles crashing onto the ground.

Gasping, eyes growing wide and a bright beam appearing on his face, Gar hopped to Jon's side and grabbed onto his shoulder, giving it an excited shake. "Holy shit! You did it!"

"Why are you acting so surprised?” Jon crosses his arms, a smirk of triumph on his lips. “I got great aim!"

"Right." Gar chuckled, putting his hands up. “Again, I’m sorry for doubting you.”

Hanging from the tent’s wall by little metal hooks were plush footballs, ones that he might be able to catch without bodily injury. It’s not a surprise that’s what Jonathan was after, Gar thinks his friend loves the sport as much as he loves cooking. A lot. But he already has multiple real ones at home, why would he want a cheap fake one?

“Don’t tell me you proved me wrong just for a stuffed football?”

"Nope!” Jon smiles, “I proved you wrong for this!"

Gar’s faint smile curves into a questioning frown, tilting his head slightly when Jonathan holds out a plush tiger colored light purple. Before he had a chance to ask what the stuffed animal was for, Jon answered the unspoken question and explained.

"It's a tiger, it's lavender, so I thought hey! those are Gar's favorite things and.." Cheeks flushing light red, the blonde teen trails off, then pops his lips. "That's it, that was my thought process." He ends with a sheepish grin.

The shapeshifter’s cheeks began to warm, "You got that for me?"

"Yeah, you're my best friend, and I–" When his friend paused, Gar noticed his smile fade for a brief moment and shining eyes darken with a type of sadness. The expression didn’t stay around for long enough for Gar to decipher, however, quickly returning to his sunny disposition. "I wanted you to have something to remember this night, ya know, when you eventually go back to your earth."

Heart beginning to thump faster in his chest, he reaches forward and takes the tiger plushie his friend was handing to him. Blinking down at the stuffed animal being held in his hands, eyes sparkling, and that unknown but familiar feeling took over again. He’s felt it before, a lot actually, just didn’t know what it was called or what caused it.

Jon scratches the side of his face, cheeks redder than a moment ago. “It’s kind of lame, but," He chuckles softly and tugs at the gold chain necklace around his neck. “I dunno. I thought you'd like it."

Shifting his gaze back to Jonathan, the festival surrounding seemed to blur out, focusing solely on the teenager standing in front of him, lips pressed together and curved into a smile he’s seen more time than he could count, accompanied by rings of ice blue shining bright and warm despite the cold night air around them, like a blue flame illuminating a dark, cold cave.

This feeling- whatever it was - only got stronger. Pulse speeding so fast he began to feel sick to his stomach, as if there were butterflies fluttering around it. But at the same time he felt a sort of happiness, one that made him wanna skip through the streets like they were walking on a cloud. And if his face could get any warmer, it'd be on fire.

Racking his brain's files for memories of the most recent times he's felt this specific way, all he could find in each memory to link them together is the fact that Jonathan is in every one of them—

Oh.. wait..

Garfield’s eyes grow wide, realization hitting him like an unseen golf ball to the back of the head. Flinching as a shiver runs up his spine, his posture straightens and grip on the stuffed animal tightening. If this was a tv show rather than real life, there'd probably be cartoon hearts appearing around Jonathan, he's sure if it.

In his peripheral vision, he notices movement at his left side and upon investigating Gar could swear his heart about leapt into his throat. Leaning back against the green haired teen’s arm, Tim Drake – an imaginary version of the new Robin, that is – sighs and clasps his hands together, lifting them closer to his face to rest his cheek against.

“Oh, the look of romantic realization. Can’t beat it!”

“Face it, tiger-boy, you got it bad.” Averting his attention from Tim to the second speaker, appearing at his right side, he swallows hard when his gaze lands on imaginary Rachel Roth blinking up at him with her lips pressed into a smirk. “You’re in love.”

“Like, deeply.” Imaginary Tim adds, then pokes Gar’s upper arm with his finger tip. “He’s the earth and heaven to you, my green friend!”

Gar doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that this is happening at all or the fact he knows why it’s happening and what it is. It’s his conscience manifesting in a weird as hell way to get him to understand what’s going on. It’s happened before, but then it was animals talking to him.. So, why the fuck is his conscience Rachel and Tim of all people now?!

Maybe it’s because if they were here physically, they would be doing the same exact thing.

The imaginary, conscience versions of his friends disappear and his thoughts are grounded by a careful poke under his collarbone. Blinking his eyes rapidly, Gar shook his head quickly to further bring himself back to reality, then frowned when he saw blue eyes full of concern.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jon frowned, "Maybe we should go home."

"What!? No!" The blonde teen flinches away at Gar's unexpected volume. Frowning as well, he bites his bottom lip, then rephrases his answer, calming his tone. "I mean- no, I'm totally fine. I promise."

He would be honest, he wanted to be honest, but how the hell do you explain to your friend that your other friends from your earth manifested as your conscience trying to get the point across?

You don’t.

Exhaling, Gar adds: "I just-" His gaze drops to the stuffed animal in his hand, "Thank you for this," Rubbing his thumb over the fake purple, striped fur stitched to the plushie’s face, a small smile began to curve his lips. "It- it means a lot to me."

He hears Jon huff, "I've heard of kill em with kindness but never send them into a state paralyzed shock with kindness."

Smile morphing into a smirk, Gar lifts his focus to Jonathan again and hums. "Ooo, good one."

Jon chuckles softly, but the smile on his face didn’t stay long. Only long enough to chuckle. "But seriously, we can go home if you want."

"Not yet. I’m good, really.” Gar reassures, hoping his friend would believe him because it’s the truth.

There’s nothing else Garfield wanted to do tonight. Every part of him wanted to be right here, at the Harvest Fest with Jonathan, and at least he knows why now. This realization is making a lot of past occurrences make sense..

“Okay, cool, cool..” Stepping forward and patting Gar on the shoulder, Jon nods to the side, gesturing even deeper into the festival, where the shapeshifter’s hearing picks up on music being played. “Because there might have been one more thing I wanted to show you.”


The passenger door opens with a click. Stepping to the side, the bright and often contagious smile the man is well known for curves his lips, watching his wife climb out of the truck. Cheeks warm a faint red as his starry eyes gaze over Lois’ outfit, he hasn’t seen her wear a dress in years. She looked gorgeous, the way it framed her perfectly. The fabrics colors bringing out the flecks of green in her eyes. You can notice tiny details like that when your sight is as well as his.

Advancing to his wife's side, Clark slides his arm under her's and locks arms.

“Allow me to escort you up to the door, Mrs. Lane.” He offers, progressing through the parking lot and towards the restaurant's entrance.

Accepting the man's offer, Lois chuckles softly. “Why thank you, Mr. Kent.” Walking alongside her husband, she exhales a breath colored with solace and tense shoulders ease. “It feels like we haven’t gone out on a date in forever.”

“I know, I–”

A more than recognizable noise rings in Clark’s ear, interrupting his response. Traveling inside the repetitive noise, a voice commands for Superman’s appearance, then adding how important the situation is.

Once the noise dies away, Clark couldn’t do more than sigh in budding exasperation. What impeccable timing, he always seems to have it.

“Is it Jon?” Lois asked quickly.

“Your dad.” Clark corrects.

The excitement for the night drains from his wife’s face, leaving eyes staring, round in fear as her focus promptly shifts to him.

“He probably just wants to complain about something. You know how he is.” The man attempts to reassure his wife, knowing exactly what was going on behind her gaze, what concerns are plaguing her brain. “Grab a table. I promise I’ll be right back, no matter what he says.”

After giving his wife a peck on the cheek and a sweep of the area to make sure there were no observers, Clark zooms off, flying in the direction of the D.O.D.

And reaching his destination seconds later, appearing in Lois' father's, Samuel Lane, office, sporting his super suit for identity secrecy. His father-in-law might know Superman was truly mild-mannered, everyday man Clark Kent, but the others occupying and working here didn't and aren't allowed to. For safety reasons.

Sat behind his desk, leaning forward in his chair, with arms crossed over the dark stained wood to aid support, General Lane blinked his eyes up at the Man of Steel, gaze cold and firm like a solid glacier and just as unreadable as ever. Clark’s not sure he’s ever seen his father-in-law look at him with a positive expression, he always seems to be upset with him or something related.

"I was in the middle of taking your daughter on a well-needed date." Superman informed, letting Sam know what his random call is ruining, with the knowledge that there wasn’t a single camera or anything for others to pick up to hear sound in the general’s office. Only Sam will hear what he’s saying. "This better be important."

"Have you heard about the animal attacks around Smallville?"

Even the slightest change of posture, twitch of expression, to hint at him feeling a pang of anxiety by the question will set an alarm off in the general’s brain and Clark can’t allow that to happen. The Kryptonian nods truthfully and sets his hands on his hips, subtly puffing his chest out to give the illusion of confidence.

"I have, and they were dealt with." Which is technically the truth.

"A wolf and a bear.. Last I checked, neither were native to that area." Keeping his gaze on Superman, the older man leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest, falsely giving off the vibe that this discussion was nothing more than casual chit-chat instead of an interrogation, probing Clark for information he wasn’t going to give. "Nowhere near, in fact."

"The wolf was nothing more than an abnormally large coyote, it was shot not long after it got into a fight with two German Shepherds."

"I heard the couple say this 'coyote' was massive. The size of a cow." Sam argues, eyes narrowing slightly.

Keeping his composure calm so as to not make the general raise a brow, Superman explained. "It was dark, the couple was panicking, and the scene had been chaotic. It was an easy exaggeration."

"And the bear was a teenager wearing a bear skin, purposely trying to scare the partiers. It's close to Halloween." He continues, "Jonathan and Jordan were attending the party and confirmed the fact."

The small room falls quiet. Sam’s unblinking eyes refusing to drift from the Man of Steel. The gears in his brain were turning, processing the information Superman fed him, and by the unchanged look on his face, the tough as rocks general didn’t believe the words escaping the man’s lips.

"I think you're lying to me." Sam broke the silence.

Superman sighs, having to fight the urge to roll his eyes. "I can assure you I'm not, Sam." He crosses his arms, giving his father-in-law a non-verbal signal that he’s growing exasperated with the discussion. "If there was a serious threat of wild animals, why would I have allowed Jonathan and Jordan to go to the Harvest Fest tonight?"

Uncrossing his arms, the general slowly leaned forward in his seat and firmly placed his palms against the desk’s top, standing from the chair and getting to his feet. Clark narrows his eyes in response to the older man shifting position, feeble efforts to intimidate him.

The general's volume was low as he spoke, barely above an aggressive whisper, an attempt at threatening -or warning- the Man of Steel. “If there’s a metahuman in Smallville and I find out you’re hiding it from me?.." Sam seemingly paused for dramatic effect, then growled. "You know exactly what will happen."

He does. Saw first hand how they treated Tag Harris. How - instead of helping the teenager calm down so his powers would ease - they resorted instantly to hunting him down and shooting the boy like he was a wild animal, then taking him to their school.

Though something in Clark's mind told him Garfield wouldn't get that luxury. He wouldn't be making it to that school.

"Goodbye, Sam." The man said, despite wanting to chew the older man out, kept his tone calm. But decided to add: "Oh, and next time, don't label your paranoia as an 'important situation'." before zipping out of the office with a loud whoosh.


Occupying the back of an idle truck, sitting together in the vehicle’s bed. A bed decorated with scattered hay, clusters of white and orange pumpkins set in the back corners, and matching orange fairy lights attached to the sides of the truck and hanging from the metal bumper. It was a little piece of tranquil amongst the noises of the festival, their own bubble away from the rest of the world and the rather peaceful state quickly taking over the mood.

Resting back against his friend’s arm, eyelids began to droop as the sandman threatened to close them. The calm, slow pace of the music traveling into his ears from the speakers in the designated dancing area not far from their special spot and enhanced smelling picking up the familiar scent attached to the coat he had the side of his face comfortably pressed onto with every breath inhaled mixed and created an almost perfect condition to drift off to dream world in.

“I never was the dancing type.” Blinking the sleepiness from his eyes, Gar averts his gaze up to Jonathan when he speaks. The blonde teenager huffs a mini laugh before adding. “Kind of hard to be when your only dance partner would be your brother, ya know?”

The shapeshifter doesn’t have any siblings, the closest thing he had was Rachel and Tim, and he knows slow dancing with either of them would make him uncomfortable, so he can somewhat understand where Jonathan is coming from.

“Yeah.” Gar breathed, "I don’t know how to dance-" Realizing how embarrassing such a response sounded, he clears his throat and explains. "I mean, I know how to dance, I used to dance around in the basement as something to do."

Pausing, the flushing to the teenager's cheeks becomes more apparent when Jon chuckles. Probably imagining Garfield dancing around like a total idiot, if he had to guess. He practically put the image in his friend’s head.

He nods to the side, gesturing to the couples twirling around with interlocked hands. "I just don't know how to dance like that."

The truck bed creaks as Jonathan pushes off, the shift in weight causing the vehicle to bounce slightly and Gar having to sit up straight lest he'd fall back onto the truck's bed. Already done enough embarrassing things today, he thinks it's time he stops adding to the list.

After dusting off the hay from his jeans, Jon twists around and smiles. "I can teach you."

Tilting his head back slightly, eyes narrowing in mild confusion, he asks. "You just said you weren't a dancer?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks now turning light red and lips stretch into a sheepish grin. "My folks taught me a while back for school dances. But I'm not in school anymore." He holds his hand out towards Gar, "I wouldn't mind trying it again. I'd much rather dance with you than Jordan."

There's no hesitation this time, only sparkles in his eyes and fangs exposed as a toothy smile appears on his face, taking his friend's hand, accepting the proposal of dancing together, as well as Jonathan's assisting him off the truck.

Casting a glance to the dancing area ahead of them, Gar swallows at the feeling of oncoming anxiety crawling up his spine. It's daunting. That many people being able to look at him, watching his every move. Just the thought made it feel like millions of spiders were crawling all over his skin.

Gar squeezes Jonathan's hand, attention stuck on the groups of strangers. "I'm– I'm not sure I'd like to dance around people."

"That's okay," Jon assures, gently brushing his thumb over Gar's knuckles, an attempt to refocus his friend's attention onto him. "We can stay right here. It's not like we can't hear the music."

With focus moved to Jonathan instead, Gar takes a breath and nods as a signal for Jon to start whatever dance lesson he had in mind.

Carefully biting his bottom lip and dropping his gaze to his feet, Jon hums. "Okay, let's see if I remember how to.."

The red tint to the shapeshifter’s cheeks was beginning to fade by the time he abandoned the truck bed, but returned with a deeper red and spreading throughout his face when their hands unlocked and Jonathan placed a hand on his waist as its twin's fingers stayed interlocked with Gar's, raising their arms until they bend in a V shape.

Heart pounding in his chest, Gar moved his hand to the same area on Jonathan at his command; suppressing a shiver at the same time. Lifting his gaze from where his palm had been curled around Jon's waist, his breath catches in his throat when warm brown eyes melt into ice blue.

Is this how Dick feels all the time? Like his legs were a bowl of jelly? Like he wanted to puke but cry out of pure joy at the same time? How does he exist? How–

"I'm pretty sure it's.. one, two, three, four.."

Jonathan's voice paired with sudden movement pulls the teenager out of his thoughts. His feet were moving in a specific pattern, matching the beat Jon was humming.

One, step to the right. Two, step back. Three, step to the left. Four, step forward. Repeat.

The dance swiftly becomes less robotic, stiff posture and clumsy footwork turning into fluid, graceful movements. Rosy cheeks and laughter of enjoyment, matching each other's speed, keeping pace with the background music, sprinkling in some Logan-Kent flair to their tango.

"You're full of surprises tonight, Starboy." Gar purred.

"Starboy?" Jon echoes, then twirls Gar around. "Is that an alien thing?"

"Definitely an alien thing."

The response earned a smirk from the Kryptonian boy. Before Gar could question what idea popped into his friend's head because it was obvious by the expression on Jon’s face, he inhales a sharp gasp when after another twirl, he was flung out with Jon’s hand staying connected to his being the only thing keeping him from stumbling and falling to the ground. A squeak escapes through the teenager’s lips as he’s jerked back, being twirled straight into Jonathan’s chest.

Gar breathed a quiet “whoa”, spine pressed against the steady rise and fall of his friend's chest. Hands rest on his shoulders and he hears Jonathan laugh, clearly finding amusement in Gar's dumbfound response to a dance move.

A dance move he remembers. Dick did the same one to Kory the morning he walked in on their dance rehearsal, interrupting the romance to grab a waffle. Thankfully, there's no one here to ruin this moment because of a waffle.

He never wanted this to end.

"You wanna take me for a spin?"

Brows furrowing for a quick second, Gar steps forward and turns around to look at Jonathan with an expression of surprise.

"Did you just make a cheesy pun?"

Jon sighs in mock shame, "I had to try."

Gar nods approvingly.

Holding a hand out to be taken, accepting Jonathan's offer of switching places. He does want to take his Kryptonian friend for a spin, now that he knows the rules of dance– somewhat.

He tried his best to replicate Jonathan's previous steps, repeating what he learned when he was the one being twirled around. There was a lot more laughing this time, exchanging simple small talk. And he couldn’t say he was shocked when his attempt at twirling Jon away and pulling him didn't go exactly the same way Jon did with him.

Instead of Jonathan’s back colliding against Garfield's chest, the two end up face to face with Jon leaning forward into him.

Cheeks burning red, Gar squeaks. "Oops.. It– it wasn’t supposed to go like that, was it?”

Jonathan blinks, "I wouldn't know." He says quietly, chuckling softly.

Why isn't Jonathan moving?– why isn't he moving? Why are they stuck here? Their faces, inches away from touching.

Gar swallows. He's never been up this close and personal with someone, able to see each individual freckle scattered across Jonathan's cheeks. Like a tiny pattern of stars.

It felt like time slowed down, surroundings blurred out of existence. The festival, the fact that they were around groups of people, meant nothing in this moment, all of it transported to the back of his brain.

Almost like there had been a gravitational pull, Gar moves closer to Jonathan and to his delight, Jon didn’t back away, staying where he stood; he wanted this too. As if it had a mind of its own, his hand releases from Jon's and raises to his face, fingertips brushing ever so lightly over his skin as he cradles the other's cheek.

Eyelids droop halfway, gaze pointing down to the slightly parted lips inches away from his. Tilting his head to the side, he slowly leans in to connect their waiting lips, anticipation about to make his heart explode out of his chest.

This moment, right here, right now, would have been magic, an explosion of new and amazing feelings— if it hadn't been put to a screeching halt.

Emitting a sharp gasp, snapping his head back and tearing his hands from Jonathan to press them over his ears, even though he knew the action would be pointless, it's just habit, the boy's face scrunched as his eyes squeezed shut and teeth gritted so tight he thought they might shatter to tiny pieces.

It's that fucking ringing again. Where is it coming from? What's causing it? This couldn’t be because of the festival noises, it's something else.

Backing away, Jonathan shouting his name had been the last thing he heard before the ringing completely took over, amplifying until he cried in pain. Knees buckling, sending his body falling to the ground and its attempts on curling in on itself were thwarted by Jon, who's hands he felt grab onto him and lift him from the ground.

He doesn't know how long it's been, where he was taken too, and frankly, he didn't care. He kept his hands in earmuff position, and could only create weak whimpers between groans and heavy breathing.

When gained enough strength to crack his eyes open, anything remotely festival related was gone, he was laying on his side on something poking him in the ribs, and it was dark. The moon above being the sole reason he could see a blurry Jonathan reach for something inside his coat.

Spots of inky black taking over forced the boy to shut his eyes before whatever Jonathan was searching for came into view; Gar slipping back into an unconscious state not long after.

Dad! – Jordan! Someone! – Help!

Glancing over to her husband riding in the passenger, noticing his signature "receiving a call via super hearing" head tilt, Lois scoffs and asks if it was her father again, not hiding the exasperation coloring her words.

The scowl didn’t stay around long though, the blood draining out of her husband’s face as his eyes widened in panic threw the idea of her father being nosy out the window.

"It's Jonathan." He whispers, oddly sounding like he was caught off guard.

Lois slams the brakes, making the truck come to a dead stop, not caring a single bit about the fact that doing such a thing could have harmed her.

Staring at Clark through wide eyes, she throws her arms out and shouts: "What are you still doing here?! Go!"

Clark zips out of the truck with a whoosh of air.

And appears in a harvested field, where the elt signal came from, not even a second later. Attention is immediately drawn to his son, kneeled down next to Garfield’s unmoving body and aggressively shaking his shoulder in efforts to get his friend to respond, shouting desperately for him to wake up.

"Jonathan," Superman inserted himself into the scene, stepping closer to his son. Not wanting to add to the panic, he speaks his question in a steady, comforting voice: "what happened?"

The man couldn't stop the gasp from leaving his mouth when Jonathan twisted around to face him. Other than the tear tracks running down his face, there were two scratches decorating his cheek. The blood dripping down to his jawline thankfully wasn't thick or in fast amounts, nothing to be overly concerned about right now.

"I- I don’t know! super hearing, I think– I–" Jonathan trails off, inhaling heavy and frantic breaths as tears continued to pour leaving him unable to finish his sentence.

Before Clark could put his attempts at calming his son down into motion and taking control of the chaotic situation, Jordan appears across from Clark, looking just as dumbstruck he did.

He heard Jonathan's message too.

The older twin snaps out of his paralyzed state when Clark instructs him to take Jonathan home, informing that he'll be right behind with Garfield.

Jordan nods, then swiftly progresses to his brother's side, aiding in helping him get to shaky feet while speaking words of comfort, promising things will be okay.

Once he made sure his sons disappeared into the night sky without a hiccup, Superman took the shapeshifting boy into his arms, holding him as tightly as he could without causing harm, and began the trip home.


Double doors open with a creak.

"Sir," A woman's voice entered the air, breaking the silence the office was previously drowning in. "There was a reaction to our equipment."

Turning around in his seat, General Lane directed his attention onto the soldier standing in front of him. With a slow, thoughtful blink, he tilts his head slightly and asks.

"And that equipment is letting off a frequency only something with hearing beyond human or animal could hear, correct?"

"Yes, sir." She confirms, "Nothing at that festival should have been able to hear it, or have such a strong reaction to it."

The general leaned forward, crossing his arms over the desk. "How strong was it?" He asked, eyes narrowing.

"A red dot showed up on the screen, pulsing violently, before disappearing after a few seconds."

Sam raised a brow in piqued interest, "And this has happened before?"

"At the mines." She said, "For a few moments, as well."

A wicked smile stretches across the general’s face, "I think we have a metahuman in Smallville."

And Superman lied to me about it.

The woman blinked, confused, at the general’s expression for a brief second, before stiffening her stance, tensing her shoulders and lifting her chin. Ready to be given a command.

"How do you want us to take care of it, sir? Bring it back or kill on sight?"

Leaning back in his seat, Sam lost the devilish grin and wore a more relieved, pleased expression. He got exactly what he wanted and imagines anyone would feel as he does when everything they wanted falls right into their lap, their plan finally being able to be put into motion. All he needed was proof.

"While I appreciated your help in the past, I will be taking care of this guest myself."

Notes:

Next Chapter (epilogue):
The Kents take care of Gar in the aftermath of his super hearing incident.

Chapter 14: The aftermath

Summary:

The Kents take care of Gar in the aftermath of his super hearing incident.

Notes:

Remember when I said this chapter wouldn't be long? Yeah, me too... I don't know what I was thinking, it's impossible for me to write short chapters, those days are over and I gotta accept that

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

He wakes up to a weight on his chest, a certain type of pressure he wasn’t sure how to explain. It's heavy, able to feel it pressing against his ribcage, but hollow and airy at the same time. It didn’t cause shortness of breath as a real weight would.

It couldn't be real. It only exists to Gar.

Blinking his eyes open to investigate only confirmed his suspicions. Curled up on the boy's chest was a ghostly green, semi-transparent snake, its blank white eyes staring at Garfield as a small forked tongue flickers out of its mouth.

As he thought, the snake wasn't real. It's a manifestation of his enhanced healing. Sometimes it does that. When his powers don't shift him into an animal form to self-heal, it'll create an animal to protect him while his body heals itself.

Gar obviously didn't need protection; not where he was at right now, at least. He's more than safe in a home lived in by Superman and his just as super family.

"Thanks." His voice was hoarse and dry. A drink will be a serious need. "I'm good now."

The snake nodded, then fell apart. Its mock-physical form turned into a smoky flame, glowing and green, and absorbing back into the teenager’s body, that specific snake breed returning to his roster of animals to shift into.

The bed emits a soft squeak as he shifts position to sitting up. Exhaling a tired breath, Gar ran a hand through his hair and took a sweep of the room he was in. By the size of the bed and quite comfortable quilt he currently sat on, along with the simple yet home-y decor, he guessed it wasn’t either Kent boys rooms but Lois and Clark's instead.

Eyes landing on a framed photograph on the left bedside table, Gar scooted to the edge of the bed and hung his legs over the side. Grabbing the photo, a half smile tugs at the boy’s face as his gaze observed the framed picture of the Kent family. A rather early picture. A much younger Jordan - probably sevenish - with a faint grin and messy mop of curly hair covering his eyes was being held on Lois’ hip and Jonathan of the same age standing under Clark’s arm with his sunny curls and signature bright smile painted on his face.

"Hey, you're up."

Gar shifts his attention from the photo to the doorway, where Jordan stood. His housemate’s dark blue eyes pointed solely onto him, blinking concerned but thoughtful, like he was silently debating with himself on something.

"How's everything?” His voice was quiet, just loud enough for Gar to hear him; likely worried about harming the shapeshifter more. He points to his ear. “Like, your hearing?"

Lips pout in thought for a moment, then shoulders shrug in honesty.

"There's a little ringing left, but besides that I'm fine" He replied, speaking in his natural volume to let his friend know whispering wasn't necessary.

"Good." Jordan smiled, then glanced over his shoulder. "I'm gonna tell everyone you're awake." In the process of backing out of the doorway, he pauses and adds: “And just a warning, my brother is gonna burst in here."

Gar chuckles, returning the photo to its previous place. "I'm expecting it."

Truthfully, Gar was kind of surprised that he didn't wake up to Jonathan somewhere in the room. Resting in the bed's open spot as he played on his phone, waiting for Gar to wake up. It seemed like something his friend would do given his past actions.

That or pacing nervously outside the bedroom door like it was a hospital room.

/

Peeling off the bloodied gauze pad from his cheek, the teenager winces. Inhaling sharp breaths through his clenched teeth. The rather fresh wound stung as the seemingly always cold bathroom air brushed against it like fingertips made of ice, a contrast to the warm blood bubbling up from the scratches and slowly beginning to leak inch by inch down his face.

Jonathan grumbles, "Fine, keep bleeding.”

He's not going to the hospital. If he needs stitches, then that’s too bad.

Snatching a washcloth from the wooden cabinet, he drowns the soft square under the sink’s running faucet and wrings out the excess water when it’s soaked. Body wincing again, forcing his shoulders to tense, as the cloth gently presses against the claw marks.

Once he feels like enough time has passed for the remaining blood to absorb into the cloth, he pulls his hand back and points his gaze down to inspect the result. Frowning at the sight of the previous light gray cloth stained with dark red spots.

Exhaling a tired breath, Jonathan moves the washcloth over to the sink and twists, wringing the dirty water into the bowl.

Eyes following the droplets of red tinted water as they splash against the white porcelain, a familiar feeling of panic crawls up his spine, causing his pulse to speed up. His grip on the washcloth tightens until knuckles bleach white. He was stuck where he stood. Frozen. His heart pounding rapidly in his ears blocked out every other sound. Eyes stretched wide and stared at the sink’s bowl as the hardly red water transformed into crimson trails of thick blood splattering into the porcelain, discoloring and staining the pure white glass.

He's seen this before. Remembers the terror making his breathing frantic and shallow, heart threatening to explode out his chest, how he wanted to scream for help but all he could do was stare as the feeling of death loomed over him, it’s boney fingers slowly gripping onto his shoulders. Tears pouring down his face as he desperately tried to wash away the seemingly never ending blood running out of his busted knuckles.

From the doorway, a familiar scoff broke the deafening silence. “Are you done wasting water?"

Inhaling a sharp gasp, Jon snaps his head up. The previous feeling of the walls closing in around him promptly return to reality, releasing the grip on his lungs and giving him room to breathe once again.

Panting heavy breaths and gripping onto the edge of the sink, Jon tears his attention away from his reflection and drops his gaze to investigate his knuckles. Relief calming his pounding heart when there wasn't a single trace of blood nor injury; only scars.

The floorboards creaked as Jordan stepped from the hallway into the bathroom. “Are you okay?”

Jon swallows, then lifts a hand to signal Jordan to pause his stride and keep their distance. His twin understands the command, halting his advance, and Jon takes a controlled breath to compose.

“Fine, I, uh- I zoned out. You know me.” He ends with a forced chuckle, then gestures to the wound on his face with a pointed finger. “I was just cleaning this.”

As Jon shut the water off, Jordan tilted his head slightly. “How’d that happen anyway? It looks like you got into a fight with a cat and lost."

Jon shrugs, “Gar’s heavy and I don’t have super strength, so I kind of just..” He points down to the floor, blowing a raspberry at the same time.

Jordan raised an eyebrow at the action, “You fell?”

“Yup."

By the expression on his face, it was obvious his brother didn't believe a word he was saying, but clearly chose to let it go since he didn't argue.

“Okay, well, I came to tell you Gar is awake.”

/

“Has this happened before?”

Gar blinked up at the Man of Steel, “My hearing sometimes picks up on random stuff but-” He shrugs his shoulders, “It's normally like a quick loud noise.”

A morning where he was lounging on the couch while Dick prepared breakfast and the sound of the blender amplified without warning being the first instance that pops into his mind when he thought about random moments of super hearing. Next would be when Jason - mad about something - slammed his bedroom shut and the unexpected loud noise caused his enhanced hearing to kick in as he tiredly emerged from his bedroom.

His hearing’s spike in volume had always been triggered by sudden loud noises, never had it happened out of the blue and not without something to blame. Chalking it up to his hearing being overwhelmed by the constant sound going on around him would’ve been an easy and probable explanation, but it happened more than once, when he wasn’t near any loud sounds. At the mines, where it was practically silent, and dancing with Jon to music that wasn’t anywhere near loud.

If it had been the music, the song would have been what was amplified; not a high pitched ringing. It wouldn’t have lingered either or caused enough pain to make him collapse.

Lois questions next, “Do you have any idea what might have caused it?”

Gar shakes his head honestly, then curves his lips into a frown when he sees the Kent parents exchange a worried look. Guilt making his eyes darken. This is what he tried so hard to avoid, making the people he cares about on edge and worry about him and his safety. But it seemed like the more he tries to dodge dangerous situations the easier dangerous situations find him, catching him off guard. When he takes a detour around a pothole in the road that could trip him, he decides to walk through a water puddle instead and fails to realize the puddle is five feet deep.

Keeping her focus on her husband, Lois crossed her arms. “Has your super hearing ever done something like this?”

“A few times when I was younger, when I was learning how to use it.” Clark nods to the side, gesturing towards Gar. “But my super hearing could work differently than his.”

The woman drops her gaze to the floor, eyes narrowing in thought. She lifts a hand to her mouth, pressing the side of her fist into her lips and taps against them gently. Pondering. An expression you could identify in a crowd as Lois Lane.

While Lois remained silent, Clark turned back to Gar. "How far can you hear?"

"Like a mile or two?" Gar explained, "My smelling is a lot better, though."

There had been an evening some days ago where he could smell what the neighbors quite a bit down the long stretch of road were cooking. So clear, crisp, and unaffected by any surrounding scents as if he was standing in the neighbors' kitchen. Cheese ravioli with a side of garlic bread sticks if he remembered correctly.

"Gar,"

Reacting to his name, Gar directs his attention to the blonde teenager stepping around his parents and advancing closer. Opening his arms for the incoming hug, his throat rumbles softly when Jonathan takes a seat on the edge of the bed and wraps him in a tight embrace.

After a quick moment of comfort, Jon releases from the hug, but keeps his gaze locked with Gar’s. "You alright, man?"

Gar nodded, red lingering on his cheeks. "Yeah, a little bit of leftover ringing is no bigg-"

Cutting his own response short, brown eyes grow wide and mouth falls agape in a quiet gasp. Swiftly, Gar lifts a hand to gently trace his thumb over the white gauze stuck to his friend’s cheek.

“What happened to your face?"

Chuckling, the blonde teen's face flushed red in embarrassment. “I fell and scraped my face on the road.”

Lips curve into a frown and eyes avert from the boy sitting in front of him, dropping down to his lap. He was experiencing a totally new kind of magic, one he never thought possible. The way it made him feel, how could he even try to explain it? It was amazing, a truly perfect night, and his powers ruined it. Not much of a surprise, though. Gaining supernatural abilities ruined his life, it only makes sense they'd keep doing it.

“No, no, I know that look! Don't feel guilty, I'm fine.”

The warmth returns to the shapeshifter’s cheeks when he feels hands interlock with his, fingers with maroon red painted nails sliding between his non-painted, and a palm - warm, but rough like you'd expect from someone who worked on a farm - pressed against his much softer and oddly, colder.

…Huh.

Actually, Jon's palm wasn't warm. It was hot.

“Look, I- I probably would have fell whether I was holding you or not.” Jon pauses, laughing softly. “We both know I trip over my feet, like every single day.”

Nothing but accuracy in his friend’s words. There had been moments Garfield had to grab the back of Jonathan’s shirt so he didn't slip and fall down the stairs.

“Now, that’s definitely the truth.”

Prompted by voice, Gar glances over Jonathan’s shoulder to see the darker haired twin enter the bedroom and stand next to his father.

“Do you have any idea what happened?” Jordan asked, looking up to his father.

"We’re working on it." Lois replied instead, “Something affected his super hearing.”

Gar flashes a hinted smile as Jordan groans in exasperation and lifts a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Clearly, his friend understands the struggle of being able to hear so well and how such an ability affects your day to day life, not always in the best ways either.

"Super hearing." Jordan grumbles, then drops the hand from his face, diving it and its twin into his hoodie pocket. "It does more harm than good, really."

Gar huffs a mini laugh, tilting his head to the side in agreement. "I can't disagree with that."

Clark crosses his arms, but keeps the smile on his face. "Hey, It does a lot of good." He argues.

Jordan scoffs, "Yeah, for you."

Smirk pulling at the side of his lips, Jon adds. "Dad, no offense, but we don't need to hear a couple making out on the other side of the world."

Leaning closer to her husband, Lois whispers through a smirk. "He's not wrong."

Stepping closer, the boy with longer curly hair didn't take a seat like his brother, but added himself to the duo of teenagers by standing at the end of the bed.

Placing his hands on his hips, he sighs. "Definitely my worst power."

Gar frowns, "Super smell isn't any better."

Jordan cringes at the words. "And you sleep in the same room as Jon?" He exhales a breathy laugh, glancing at his brother. "I’m amazed you haven’t drowned in the smell of cologne and hair products by now.”

"I don't use that much!" Jon protested, then quieted down, continuing through a grumble. "Anymore.."

Whatever Jordan's response was to his brother's claim, Gar didn't hear it. It became background noise. The shapeshifter's attention had been elsewhere, on the Kent parents as they exited the bedroom. If they were stepping out in a normal fashion, he wouldn't have raised an imaginary eyebrow.

Clark had whispered something into Lois' ear the moment Jordan left his side and the woman nodded in agreement before the couple slipped out of the bedroom without a single word spoken, like they didn't want to draw attention in case of questioning. Gar's lived with enough secretive people to know a private conversation in the making when he sees it.

Swallowing hard, a sick feeling of apprehension mixed with budding guilt causes the boy's stomach to ache.

That conversation is going to be about me, isn't it?


“You’re thinking what I’m thinking, right?”

Advancing down the hall, in the direction of the kitchen, Clark exhaled a heavy breath then threw a glance over his shoulder to his wife, who was trailing behind.

“If it's that Gar’s hearing was affected by something d.o.d related? Yes.”

Lois pauses her stride once she stepped through the doorway. “The fact that this happened after he questioned you tells me enough.” She growled.

Side of his balled fist firmly pressed against his lips, the man paced back and forth. A dam opening, sending thousands of different thoughts to flood his brains. Taking another deep breath, Clark paused his pace and turned to face his wife.

“This is my fault.”

Lois raised a brow, then sighed. “Clark, babe,” She pinched the bridge of her nose, “I know you like to blame every bad thing on yourself, but this definitely isn’t your fault.”

“I told Sam that Jon and Jordan were at the Harvest Fest.” Clark admitted, guilt dripping from each word. “If he even thought Gar could be connected to them, he’d send someone there to investigate.”

Eyebrows pulling together, Lois blinked, the words processing in her mind. There’s a brief moment of silence, then the woman shook her head and waved her arms in an x motion, essentially wiping away her train of thought and whatever it was saying.

“That’s not important. The important thing is that - if - my dad sent someone there, they didn’t see Gar.”

“How do we know they didn’t?” Clark challenges, “It’s not like he’d tell me if they did.”

“A boy with green hair isn't automatically gonna scream ‘hey, look at me, I’m metahuman!’. Kids have dyed hair.” Lois combats, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Jonathan’s hair was blue for quite a while last year, remember? It didn’t make people point and scream ‘alien’.”

How could Clark forget? Inside the shower looked like a blueberry exploded and there's a spot of permanently stained blue on the floor.

Shaking the memory that was rather humorous now from his mind, Clark steps closer to his wife and continues, “To your dad it will. Gar is new and the fact that he showed up right as the animals did..”

Lois goes silent again.

Clark frowns. After running a hand through his hair, he separates his curved lips to speak but is interrupted by his wife before a word could squeak out.

“Take him with you.”

Clark tilts his head slightly as a “what do you mean.”

“To the fortress. With Jon.” She clarifies. Uncrossing her arms, she gestures to Clark with a hand. “You said it yourself, Jon might have to stay there for a bit, so take Gar with you. It’s not gonna hurt."

It wouldn’t hurt Jonathan and Garfield, but he’s not sure the same could be said for the Fortress.

A morning where the Man of Steel hadn’t been called to action, Clark was enjoying the peace and quiet of the remaining morning. Gazing out the kitchen window with a cup of hot coffee in hand, enjoying the sight of birds pecking at the seed he threw out earlier. Calming in a way the man hasn’t experienced in far too long— then Jonathan cried “I’m sorry” and began to thunder downstairs with so much intensity Clark thought he’d break through the steps.

Jumping back to flatten himself against the countertop, swiftly getting out of his son’s path, Clark watched as Jonathan bolted past, heading in the direction of the backdoor; shouting more sorrys and a single “I didn’t know it was yours” through laughter along the way. The man didn’t have much time to question the situation before the answer came as a roar and a green mountain lion sped into the kitchen, leaping onto and off island as if it was a rock, and following after Jonathan through the backdoor left ajar.

He learned a few minutes later Jon made the mistake of eating Gar’s breakfast donut the night before.

And that’s not the first time Clark found himself diving out of the boys’ way. They are.. quite a bit more reckless and rowdy than Jordan.

If he left them at the Fortress together - alone -, there might be a tad bit of apprehension on his end, worried he'd return to find shattered crystals and other important artifacts on the floor paired with scared expressions from the boys' standing over the wreckage.

"I- Uh, I'll think about it."


Gods, he's had a night.

With an elongated sigh, the shapeshifting teen falls back onto the couch with a soft thump. Allowing his body to sink into the cushions under and behind, achieving the most comfortable position he could. It's not just important, it's necessary. This is where he'll be sleeping tonight, and waking up with a lower backache is not what he needs. An earache is enough.

Oh, how he wishes enhanced healing could ease any type of body aches.

Blinking tired eyes he's sure gained more dark circles, Gar reaches to the side and grabs the tv remote, then leans forward to snatch the ps4 controller from the coffee table. It'd be an almost impossible feat to even attempt to fall asleep in a completely silent room with ringing in his ears, so he's gonna try his luck with the living room, using the tv as background noise to block out some of the ringing.

But he's gonna watch a nature documentary first. Those always put him at ease.

The tv flashes to life and beginning to start the ps4 up is interrupted by the stairs creaking. Eyes follow as his roommate descends the steps to the hallway, where he pauses when noticing Gar looking at him.

"What are you doing?"

Jon hesitates in the living room opening, pointing down the hall with a thumb. "I skipped dinner, so I'm gettin' something to eat."

Oh yeah. He missed dinner– and lunch. A few scoops of ice cream and funnel cake had been all he ate today. He needs more - much more - than that to eat daily or the creatures using his body as a rental house will get.. difficult.

Leaning against the doorway frame, Jon's lips curve into a smile. "Let me guess, you're hungry and want me to make you a turkey sandwich?" Humming in thought, he adds. "With a side of barbecue chips and a can of Dr. Pepper."

A smile tugs at the side of Gar's mouth. Someone's been taking notes of his preferred snack, but now that Jonathan brought it up, he's actually not hungry. Whether it's because of the enhanced hearing issue, what almost happened at the Harvest Fest, or both, his stomach isn't feeling quite right, there’s a twinge of nausea.

Gar laughs softly at the offer, then shakes his head. "Thanks, but I'm good."

"Oh, okay."

When Jonathan disappears down the hall, Gar returns to his previous task of starting up a streaming service to zone out and hopefully pass out during a tv show, only for it to be interrupted once again by footsteps quickly advancing towards the living room.

Reappearing in the doorway, eyes round in some mixture of surprise and fear, Jonathan asks. "Did you say you're not hungry?"

"Yeah?” The faint smile drops when his friend’s concerned expression stays on his face. He shouldn’t have made eating such an important part of his character.

Gaze softening, Gar adds as some reassurance, hoping it’d ease his friend’s fear even if a little. “I’m fine, really. It’s just, my stomach hurts.”

So much happened, so fast, he thinks it finally caught up and rammed into him like a bus. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Jonathan exhales, gaze softening as well; thankfully accepting the reassurance. "Okay. Let me grab some grub and I'll join you."

Finally, without a third interruption, Gar manages to start up the chosen streaming service before Jonathan returns, one hand balancing a plate of food with a small bag of plain chips set on top of the sandwich and the other a small bottle of cherry coke.

Don't trip. Don't trip. Don't trip.

He couldn’t help the apprehension as he watched his friend progress to the couch and the quiet breath of relief he exhaled when Jon sat down without a hiccup– or precious food lost to the floor.

“What are we watching?” Jon asks, then takes a bite of the turkey sandwich currently in hand.

"Oh, um," Gar hums in thought; he didn't plan on Jon joining him. "I was gonna watch a nature documentary, but–"

"I'm good with that!" Jonathan cuts in through a mouth of food, which makes Gar shake his head and give the action a good-natured eye roll.

Selecting a nature documentary about a mixture of natural parks, Gar takes another breath and locks his gaze on the screen, tuning his hearing into the sounds of the wild coming from the speakers. His intentions on zoning out to help quicken the process of tiredness seemed to be working after the twenty minute mark, until the documentary began to discuss wolves.

It wasn't the narrator that caught his attention, but the wolves themselves, what the camera captured. A pair of wolves rubbing their cheeks together in greeting before one dropped to a play stance and the other accepted with an excited tail wag and bark, then sprinting down the snowy hill, running side by side and playfully nipping at each other.

Eyes were stuck on the tv screen as if it was hypnotizing. In the back of his mind, drowning out the remaining ringing, a wolf’s howl echoed as brown iris’ are taken over by green.

"Gar?.. Hey, Gar."

He wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at the tv by the time Jonathan's voice, colored with amusement, broke into his trance and pulled him back to reality.

After a quick head shake, Gar turned his head to look at Jon. “Huh?”

“Dude,” A tiny snicker escapes through the blonde teen’s lips, but he quickly shuts up by pressing his them together. Averting his gaze for a brief moment and sucking his teeth, taking a second to figure out what he wanted to say or how to say it. “You kind of look like the wolf-man, right now.”

A pointed ear twitched at the observation. Gasping, Gar dropped his gaze to his hands; the part of his body that normally shifts first. Green fingers were curling in, beginning to sprout fur and form together to create a paw, yellow claws protruding from each digit.

He could feel them now, the fangs pushing against and over his bottom lip, giving him an underbite.

He sees Jonathan's amused but curious smile out of the corner of his eye, causing cheeks to flush a bright red out of embarrassment.

"I- uh," He begins to aggressively shake his hands (paws, really) in an effort to get them to shift back into human hands. "I'll fix this."

"Your powers can be influenced by any animal you see?" He hears Jon question, able to hear the smile in his voice. A stark difference from the fear surrounding his powers back on his earth. "Does that work with fictional animals and stuff too? Like, could you be a dragon?"

Gar blinked, humming in thought. “I don’t know? Never tried.”

The largest animal he can shift into was an elephant and only did it once, he was exhausted afterwards and body ached for days. A dragon would be even larger than an elephant, even more complicated. He might have to be in a full body cast after he tried to shapeshift into one of those.

A growl deep in his chest sets off the teenager’s danger alarms, sensing there’s something around that shouldn’t be. With eyes still glowing green, Gar snaps his attention from his returned human hands to the window behind him, ear twitching at the distant voices able to be heard, just not understood thanks to his damaged enhanced hearing.

Jonathan’s quiet voice enters the air next, “What’s wrong?”

Peering outside as best he could through the frosted window, scanning the shadowy landscape for any signs of movement, only to sigh when his investigation came up empty. “I thought I heard voices.”

After closing the curtains, Gar twisted around to face forwards again and settled back into his spot on the couch. He frowns, “Or maybe I’m just paranoid.”

“It could have been Jordan? I think he’s still up.” Jon said quickly, then paused for a heartbeat. “Err, wait, he’s got school tomorrow.”

Animalistic features morph back into a human’s as Garfield sinks back into the couch cushion, lowering his head into the hoodie's hood and dropping his gaze to his lap, where he shoves his hands into the hoodie pocket.

Scooting closer to Gar, the couch squeaked softly. “I know you said you were fine earlier, but I don’t think you are..” He places a hand on the shapeshifter’s upper arm, “What’s going on, Gar?”

He could scoff at such a question, but didn’t. Jonathan’s being genuine, he wants to help.

Where the hell should he start? The fact that he almost kissed his best friend at the Harvest Fest? His super hearing being damaged? Clark and Lois’ secret conversation that had to be about him and how difficult their lives have gotten since he fell out of a portal?

Even on an entirely different earth, he finds a way to fuck up people’s lives. He ruined everyone’s night because of his now completely useless enhanced hearing. Because of his powers. Maybe he’d feel different if tonight had been the first time his powers made his housemates panic, but it wasn’t.

The dire wolf attack, the bear at the bonfire, and now super hearing…

“I don’t think I’ll be here much longer..” Gar murmured.

The response must have caught the blonde teenager off guard by the silence that followed. A few moments pass before a few stuttering words escape his lips.

“Wha- Why would you think that?”

“I noticed your parents leave when you and Jordan came in, they left to talk about something.” He pauses, eyes shining with newly formed tears. “I think it was about me.”

“I really don’t think so.”

“And why not?” Gar snapped, then quieted his volume. Just because he's upset doesn't give him the justification to wake everyone up by yelling. “All I’ve done is cause issues since I got here. Clark and Lois are probably tired of me.”

His parents got so tired of him they decided he didn't exist anymore and the Titans didn't know what they were getting themselves into by dragging him along, they obviously regretted it though. In other words, Gar and having proper adult-figures in his life never work out.

“They’re not tired of you, trust me. My folks aren’t like that.” Jon frowned, “If anything, they’re just worried about you.”

“But I don’t want them to worry about me! I can’t keep messing up!..”

Leaning forward, placing his face in his hands, the teenager breathes a deep inhale in attempts to compose, chase away the red threatening to color his vision. He couldn’t lose control, not here, not with Jonathan near.

The anger bubbling in his veins wasn't directed towards the Kents, it never will be. It's pointed straight at him and his shitty decisions.

Running a hand through his hair, Gar leaned back and straightened his posture. Tracks from the tears that broke through the dam staining his cheeks, he looks at Jonathan and gives him a sad smile.

“You can’t tell me your life hasn’t gotten more stressful since I showed up.”

He’s not from their earth. He’s no better than an invasive species, taking over and turning their habitat to ruin.

“No.”

Taken aback by the prompt candid, almost out of character response, Gar blinked his watery eyes and sniffled, tilting his head slightly.

“My life has been hectic for as long as I can remember, it comes with having Superman as a dad. I’ve been through some insane shit, I know how I felt during it all.”

The shapeshifter’s heart clenched in his chest when Jonathan's eyes darken with a memory he couldn’t see, wasn’t told about. “Everything that’s happened recently, never once made me feel like I have before. Even the wolf thing..”

The look didn't stick though. A bright sparkle appears in his icy gaze like the sun beaming onto a fresh blanket of snow and lips pull into the blonde teen's signature smile. A smile undoubtedly genuine, familiar and warm enough to melt the green haired teen's worries away.

“My life,” Cheeks turn rosy pink when Jonathan's hand lowers from his upper arm to grabbing and holding his hand. “has gotten so much better because you’re in it, and nothing can change how I feel.”

This feeling, he remembers very well. They’ve been here before. Up in their bedroom, what felt like forever ago, the night Jonathan was helping patch up his wounds. How a simple hug took such strength to return, having to fight against chains wrapped so tightly around his wrists, chains wanting to keep him in place and let fear have control of his experiences, his actions, like he was nothing but a puppet on a string being manipulated by its puppeteer.

That was then, however, things change. And for what seemed like the first time, it changed for the better.

A voice in his head whispering doubts, trying to get him to give into his worst habits, it’s always gonna be there, he knows that. It’s a part of him, just now he found the will to fight it.

Initiating the embrace this time, Garfield threw his arms around the blonde teenager and pulled him forward, causing Jon to make an 'oomf' sound on impact. With tears continuing to stream down his cheeks, he buries his face into the side of Jon's neck and melts into the hug, taking comfort in the pair of arms wrapping around his frame and holding him so close their chests connected, able to feel each other's heart with every beat.

Dear gods, this was perfect. He never wanted to let go, if this moment could last forever he'd appreciate it, drinking in every ounce of affection that radiated from each passing second.

Gar sniffled, tightening his side of the embrace. "No one's ever said that to me before."

"I meant it." Jon smiled, "And about my parents too. They're not gonna ditch you, they just wanna help."

And he knew that. Deep down, he did. Nothing on this earth has been the same as his, not a single thing. But experiences, especially ones he lived more than once, he has a tough time letting go. Ones he's expecting.

Gar sighed, releasing from the embrace but kept his hands resting on top of Jonathan’s forearms while the alien boy's hands lowered and linger on his waist.

"I wanna help them, too."

Jon chuckled softly, "Dude, trust me, you've already helped more than you know."

Gar scoffs, "Sorry, Starboy, but I don’t think building a gazebo counts."

Jonathan tilts his head slightly and shrugs his shoulders, "I think it does, buttt.. agree to disagree."

"And I think I'm ready to finally get some sleep." He huffs a mini laugh, then raises a hand to scratch the side of his face. "Ya know, before the sun rises."

Jonathan nods in agreement. He gives Garfield’s upper arm a pat before standing from the couch and progressing towards the hallway, grabbing the empty plate and bottle along the way.

Frowning, watching as Jonathan walked away, Gar took a breath then gently bit his bottom lip to keep his mouth shut.

Just let it go, Jon's done enough, let him have a comfortable sleep in his bed, is what he tells himself, then reaches over to the chair and grabs the blanket hanging over the wooden arm.

As if Jonathan could hear the inner debate swirling around in Gar's brain, he hesitates in the doorway and turns around to face his green haired friend once more, asking.

"Do you want me to stay?"

Pulse speeding up and cheeks warming, Gar squeaks a simple: "Yes."

"Okay." Jon's response came out in breath, almost like he was relieved to hear Gar agree. "I'm gonna get ready for bed, then I'll be back."

Once Jon disappears upstairs, Gar drops his gaze to his lap and exhales deeply through his nose, but can't fight the smile tugging at the side of his lips or heart growing in his chest.

Of course he wants Jonathan to stay, he never wants him to leave.

----

By the time Jonathan reappeared in the living room, the whole area had been encased in darkness; not even the tv stayed on. Thank god for the moonlight slipping through the little separations in the curtains, if it wasn't for that tiny bit of light, Jon's not sure he would have made it over to the couch without smacking his shin against the coffee table.

Hauling the blanket from his bed on his shoulders like it was a five year old's attempt at a cape, the teenager shuffled to the couch and sat in the spot he abandoned minutes ago.

"How do you fall asleep so fast?" Jon wondered quietly, glancing over to Garfield’s unmoving, very much fast asleep, body.

Honesty, if it wasn't for the soft snoring, he probably would think Gar was dead. He's never seen someone sleep so heavily.

Pulling the large blanket off his shoulders, he places one half over himself and tosses the other half onto his roommate, knowing the throw he was covered up with wouldn't be enough to keep him warm all night.

Huddling up to his friend’s side, Jonathan closes his eyes and begins his attempts at falling asleep, only to have his eyes shoot open seconds later and face turn red when Garfield shifts sleeping positions, rolling over to throw his arm over Jon's chest and rest the side of his face on his upper arm.

After quietly clearing his throat, Jonathan carefully removes his arm from under his friend’s face and loops it over his shoulder, then leans his head to the side, pressing his face into the soft forest of green on top of Gar's head, that actually smelled like pine.

The warmth causing his cheeks to flush red remains, slowly spreading up to the tips of his ears and a smile appears on his lips as Gar cuddles up to his side, a gentle purr sounding out of habit even in sleep.

My parents are so gonna kill me…. totally worth it.

Notes:

next chapter:
It's the twins 17th birthday! Gar aids Lois in cake baking while Clark spends time with his sons before the celebration, though Jonathan finds himself wishing to be home instead.. for multiple reasons.

Chapter 15: The birthday

Summary:

It's the twins 17th birthday! Gar aids Lois in cake baking while Clark spends time with his sons before the celebration, though Jonathan finds himself wishing to be home instead.. for multiple reasons.

Notes:

I lost track of how many times I changed/had to rewrite something about this chapter.

I procrastinated so bad... I blame the holiday season

Also to the readers, thank you for all the love and support!! I hope you enjoy this chapter!! ❤️ And can you believe I finally broke 100,000+ words??? 🤯

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It's strange, but a welcoming strange, celebrating his birthday again after years of missing out, letting his twin blow the candles out without him. It never bothered him either, watching Jordan enjoy a day that belonged to him too.

Jonathan always did get happiness from seeing others happy.

He couldn’t remember his fifteenth birthday or many months afterwards for obvious reasons and his sixteen birthday, he wasn't exactly well enough to participate and was okay with that, his mom brought him a piece of cake and stayed to chat for awhile. It was nice.

Now it's his seventeenth birthday and he's doing a lot better; not perfect, but better. Truthfully, he doesn’t think he’ll return to his former self: that bubbly, cheerful fourteen year old who had been the best player on the football team. Whether it was because of the baseball bat to the head thing or the naturally growing up thing, that peppy kid only exists in the past now.

Granted, he still is more lively than his brother has ever been and some of his quirks from his childhood stuck around, no matter how much he tried to get rid of them. Guess some of it is purely natural, his parents did tell him before that he kept them on their toes constantly as a toddler because he was so full of energy, and only took a nap when he decided it was nap time which was crashing after expending so much energy.

Though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wonder if all his energy came from an outside source: the giant fiery star in the sky.

He remembers going to his father’s first fortress, the ice one, after football practice one evening and meeting his grandfather, Jor-El, who didn’t seem as excited as Jon was about meeting– then again, holograms probably can’t feel excitement. He got scanned for signs of powers and almost every test - besides one - came up negative. Jor-El explained how Jonathan’s cells were being affected by the yellow sun but they weren’t forming powers, they were affecting him in a different way. Jor-El wouldn’t elaborate on what that exactly meant or what all was being affected, maybe because his grandfather truly didn’t know.

All Jonathan had been told was his hair color was one of things the sun changed, but that information was given to him by his parents; not Jor-El. Clearly hologramps missed something though because Jon is sure he has powers- or is forming powers. Whatever the hell was happening to him in the gas station bathroom confirmed it. Terrifying. And he wants it to never happen again.

“You guys will love it!” Clark expresses cheerfully from where he sat in the driver’s seat. “My dad took me here when I turned fourteen. We had the best day.”

From the seat across from Jonathan, Jordan asks. “Why did you wait this long to go, again?”

“I wanted to go for your birthday, just like me and my dad.” Jon could see the almost child-like excitement sparkling in his father’s eyes as he glanced back at his sons using the rearview mirror. “Your fourteenth birthday didn’t work out, but this year did!”

Jon shifts in his seat, tugging at the rather old and itchy seat belt rubbing against his neck. “Why didn’t you go last year?”

“Because I wanted to experience it with both of my sons, at the same time.”

His father’s response, so simple yet heartfelt and bursting with joy, he truly is excited for this trip and even more so to be spending it with him and Jordan. It should make him happy too, being able to be a part of a day that means so much to his dad, but there’s a pang of guilt making him frown instead, wanting to sink down in his seat to be out of sight.

This trip had been in the plans for years, his dad waited patiently to experience something that made him so happy in the past again but with his sons by his side. Add another layer onto an already positive memory. And he would have when he originally planned - which he guessed would be for their fifteenth birthday - if Jonathan didn’t…

Nope, that doesn’t matter now. It might be his birthday, but as far as Jonathan is concerned, today is for his father. He waited long enough and won’t let anything ruin the day, make sure this memory is just as positive as the first. No matter what.

Chatting voices pulled the blonde teenager out of his thoughts. Becoming aware of the stopped car, Jon looks out his window to observe his surroundings, knowing there’s no way they could be at the trails. His dad said it’d be a three hour drive and they just left thirty minutes ago.

As he suspected, it wasn’t the hiking trails. Last he checked, there’s no gas stations in the middle of the woods or the park they’re located in.

He swallows the anxiety attempting to tighten his throat and averts his gaze to his father, who was outside the car and talking to Jordan through the rolled down window. Never thought seeing something as mundane as a gas station would send a chill of fear and uncomfortableness up his spine, but at least this isn’t that gas station.

“Since it’s your birthday, I’m gonna grab you two snacks.” Clark looks between both boys, “What do you want?”

He hears Jordan list off multiple things, then gives his dad a shrug when his attention falls onto him. “I’d be good with a bag of sour patch kids.”

Clark blinked, “That’s all?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Why wouldn’t he be?

With that said, Clark nods and pats the car door as he steps away, a non-verbal way of telling Jordan to roll the window up. A safety precaution. Though Jonathan’s more than sure if someone tried to break into the car with them inside, said carjacker could easily be dealt with. Unless they had kryptonite, but what are the odds of some random dude having kryptonite in his pocket and breaking into the car that just so happened to have two kryptonians occupying the back seat? That’d be one hell of a coincidence.

“So,” Shifting his gaze to Jordan when he speaks, confusion causes his brows to furrow, seeing a twirling finger pointed at him and the smirk on his twin’s lips. “What’s going on with you and Gar?”

Eyes grow round and a slightly agape mouth snaps shut, shoulders tense as blood rushes into his face, coloring his cheeks and ear tips.

"Nothing!" Jon snaps, then silently curses at the volume of the response.

The family, but especially his brother, knows if Jonathan suddenly gets snappy and defensive, he's usually lying or trying to avoid a topic he doesn't want to speak about.

“Okay, sure.” Jordan scoffed in obvious disbelief, “It’s not like everyone in town heard mom chewing you out yesterday morning or anything.”

Jonathan foolishly thought he got off scot-free when he woke up with Garfield still huddled at his side and hadn't been met with two pairs of eyes glaring down at him. You would think by now, after all the nonsense he found himself in, he would realize that situations never go that smoothly for him, because whoever is controlling this universe obviously finds it amusing, and it became clear the moment Jon entered the kitchen and saw what was waiting for him.

The ever so familiar expression of a mixture of anger and displeasure painted on his mother's face as her eyes narrowed into a glare and pointed her index finger at the back door, telling Jonathan all he needed to know. And he took his walk of shame out to the back porch, where (to his surprise) he and his mother had a discussion instead of argument. Seemed like the first time his mother heard his side of the story and chose to finally trust him rather than refusing to hear what he had to say.

“She wasn’t that mad at me.” Jon said, “Just talked.”

Jordan tilted his head slightly, “About?”

Jon huffed through his nose, rolling his eyes at the question. “None of your business.”

After the response, he hears Jordan chuckle and sees his playful smirk morph into a sympathetic smile, like he pitied his sunnier twin.

“Well, I hope it was nothing embarrassing because mom is gonna be home with Gar all day. Who knows what she'll tell him.”

“She wouldn't do that.” Jonathan argued quickly.

Jordan shrugs, keeping the 'i feel so sorry for you' smile on his face but Jon could make out a hint of humor there as well. “She had no problem showing Sarah my baby pictures, and today is our birthday. She might wanna reminisce.”

He hears Jordan begin to chuckle again, but this time attempting not to explode into laughter, when his facial expression drops in embarrassed horror, face flushing red once more at the thought of his mother breaking out the baby book and telling Garfield stories. Stories that his out-of-universe friend (if he could be called that) would find hilarious and no doubt bring up during one of their teasing matches.

..The one day he’s not home.


A pointed ear flickers at the unlocking of the front door, seafoam eyes blink open and jaw drops into a yawn as the green Ragdoll cat lifted his head to investigate. Watching Lois enter the home with multiple grocery bags in one hand and hearing the woman quietly talking to herself, the feline tilts his head and gets to his paws, giving his pelt a quick shake as well.

If he knew Lois was going shopping he would have tagged along or would have helped bring the groceries in instead of shapeshifting into a cat to take an unneeded nap, but he thought he’d be the only person home until the twins' birthday celebration later. He could help put the groceries away though, let Lois sit down and relax for a few minutes at least, she seemed stressed.

“Gar!”

Intentions of leaping onto the floor from the couch cushion being put on pause when his name is called, the green cat perked his head up and shifted his gaze to the living room doorway where Lois' footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Gar?”

The feline meows to grab the woman’s attention as she peeked into the living room, then continues with his plans, hopping off the couch and padding over, tail tip flicking side to side.

“Oh, I didn't see you.” Lois smiled, then chuckled in semi-embarrassment. “I'm not used to-” She gestures to the cat form with a hand twirl, “the whole shapeshifting thing yet.”

Gar closes his eyes and purrs.

Lois places her hands on her hips and sighs, but keeps the smile on her lips. “You’d think after years of being around aliens and more, I wouldn’t be surprised by a kid who can turn into animals.”

I’m the only one of me on my earth, maybe even on this one, so I don’t blame you, Gar thinks, ear flicking.

Lois blinks, “Wait, can you understand what I’m saying?” then murmurs, “Or am I just talking to myself?”

The green cat lifts his chin and meows, hoping the action would give her an answer since human words weren’t an option at the moment.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” Lois assumed correctly, “Could you put the groceries away while I start on lunch?”

That was the plan!

Squeaking out another meow, the cat scrambles past the woman and up the stairs, in the direction of his shared bedroom. Jonathan’s not here, he’s somewhere on a hiking trail, so shapeshifting back to his human form in his room is acceptable to do, it's where his clothes are anyway.

Disregarding the pajamas he shed to shapeshift earlier, he gets dressed for the chilly afternoon. Comfy dark gray sweatpants matching a powder blue sweatshirt (..that might not be his), both tied perfectly together with black cat designed socks for Halloween.

When he enters the kitchen, he begins his task of transporting groceries to their proper places; casting a glance over his shoulder to Lois as she apologizes for not being able to spend as much time with him as the rest of the family.

“It’s fine!” Gar pipes, then opens the refrigerator to put away the cold foods and snatch the pack of cheese for Lois for their lunch of grilled cheese and tomato soup. Couldn’t get more classic than that. Perfect for a day like this.

After grabbing the bag of remaining bread from the corner of the counter, he steps over to the woman and beams. “You’re the world famous Lois Lane! I kind of expect you to be busy.”

Lois smiles at the response, taking the food the teenager handed to her.

“My earth had a Lois Lane too, but I never saw or met her.” He adds.

“I saw another universe version of myself once, she looked just like me.” She admits.

A glint of curiosity sparkles in the teenager’s eyes as he hops up to sit on the countertop closest to the journalist. “Did you two get along or was it weird?"

Kneeling down to retrieve a few cans of soup from the below cabinets, Lois' lips pressed into a thin line, then breathed. “Well, she was dead, so.”

“Oh.”

Brown eyes that stretched wide at the response followed Lois, watching her advance towards the stove where a skillet and pan were waiting.

Clearing his throat as an attempt to break the awkward silence, he puts on a smile and wonders aloud. “What if there was another me on this earth, that’d be wild right?”

If there was another him, does that mean there's another Dick? Kory? Rachel? He never once thought about searching The Titans or their respective superhero names online. And he's not sure he wants to.

Push that thought to the back of his mind file cabinet for now.

Shifting his focus back to Lois, lips curve a frown of confusion when he sees the adult's shoulders were tense. Back turned to him, she kept her gaze glued to her objective of preparing lunch, pouring the soup into the pan and staying quiet as if she didn't hear him speak.

Guilt twinges in the boy’s chest, but before he could squeak out an apology for whatever he said wrong, Lois chimes in first.

“I'm glad you and the boys are getting along well.” She changes the discussion topic, keeping her focus on the lunch in preparation; laying pieces of bread into a frying pan. “I was kind of worried about the whole thing.”

Gar smiles, choosing to ignore the topic switch. “They’re great!”

Is the simplest the shapeshifter could put it. Too many feelings and thoughts about a certain blonde alien to put into a casual response, putting all of those complicated but wonderful feelings into one word seemed impossible.

“Oh, on the table there,” Gar’s gaze follows the spoon used to direct his focus, looking to the dark red bag with its handles tied. “I picked up the birthday gift for Jordan for you.”

“Thanks!”

He wasn’t planning on buying the boys anything for their birthday, money wasn’t something he had and asking the Kent parents for some wouldn’t be too comfortable for him to do. They already do too much for him. To his confusion however, one day Clark came up to him, praised and thanked him for the chores he’s done, and gave him money. Apparently an allowance is a thing.

As Lois stepped away from the oven to grab her phone that pinged a notification, she sent Gar a raised brow. “No gift for Jonathan?”

Cheeks blush at the observation, making the teenager shift a little and breathe a laugh. “I got a gift for him but it’s more of a homemade one.”


Everything is so dead. So gray. Surrounded by bare trees and bushes, the stench of damp earth assaulted his nostrils with every inhale. He misses the foliage being painted shades of oranges and reds, bringing a pop of color and life to the landscape. What is he supposed to feel looking at death? Darkening clouds threatening to bring the next shower? Or once again, being cut out of the father-son conversation because he can’t add anything to flight practice? Sad, It makes him sad. He’s supposed to be having a good time but right now, he kind of feels like the third- less super -wheel.

Lifting his gaze to the sky, he frowns. Not a single break in the clouds to allow a peek of sunshine. The universe couldn’t spare him even a little today.

Or maybe it could and he was looking in the wrong direction.

Inhaling a quiet gasp, Jonathan's stride comes to a halt. At his feet, casually crawling across the path: a woolly bear. What would have been unnoticed if he didn’t glance down. A faint smile appears on the boy’s lips, watching the tiny caterpillar progress across- well, progress at a very slow pace.

From somewhere behind him, likely further down the trail, laughter and a dog’s excited barking echoed to his ears. Lips curve into a frown for a brief moment, gazing down to the woolly bear in the middle of the path, moving as quickly as it could towards the safety of the woods.

Not wanting the fuzzy caterpillar to be stepped on by accident - or worse, on purpose -, Jon kneeled down and scooped the insect into his palm, chuckling softly when the tiny thing curled into a ball at the touch.

He smiles, “If my friend was here, he’d be able to talk to you.”

With woolly bear in hand, he advances off the path his father and brother were traveling and steps into the woods. Taking a sweep of the area, he decides setting the insect on the nearby but not too close fallen tree log would be the best option, just in case the little guy changes his mind and turns around.

Dead leaves and twigs crunch under boots as he steps towards the log and maneuvers around smaller trees, avoiding the branches that could poke or smack him in the face. Humming in thought as he sets the caterpillar down and watches it uncurl, he wonders out loud.

“What would you have to talk about anyway? What plants taste the best?”

The fuzzy caterpillar naturally stays silent, crawling away and across rough bark.

Jonathan blinks. Realizing how crazy he must look, talking to a woolly bear as if it could respond to him, he quickly shook his head and straightened his posture.

A genuine, toothy smile slowly began to stretch his lips, bright with affection. Muttering a teasing, mock-curse under his breath, he ran a hand through blonde curls and felt warmth rush to his cheeks.

Look what Garfield did to him, he’s talking to an insect.

“Jonathan! It’s too cold to be exploring!”

His father’s voice causes the warmth to his cheeks to drain. Snapping his head in the direction of the hiking trail, Jonathan gives the tiny insect a goodbye glance and retreads the makeshift path he made during the rescue mission, following his boot prints in the mushy ground.

“Right, right!- sorry!” He chuckled, “I was relocating a wo–”

Emerging from the woods, the teenager’s remaining words die in this mouth. Smile dropping into a confused frown, blue eyes sweep side to side in search of his father and brother but an empty trail void of any family members is all seen.

“What the hell?” He whispers, then instinctively twists around to take another sweep of the area. Unsurprisingly coming up empty once again.

His dad just called him, like five seconds ago. There isn't a logical explanation for how they could be out of sight so fast, and even if they somehow were, he’d surely be able to hear them talking. Unless.. no! No way they'd purposely call for him then super speed away. Jordan, maybe, as a prank but he wouldn't let him wander around like an idiot, and during a day like this? Jon couldn't see his father agreeing to let Jordan play a trick on him, let alone join in.

So, with prank ruled out, that leaves… well, Jonathan doesn't know yet.

Trudging forwards, along the trail he last saw his family, he shouts for his father and brother. Expecting some kind of response whether it be words or laughter, anxiety speeds his pulse when silence answers his call as if he was the only one existing out here.

It's like the whole world died down, turning its focus solely onto him. Not a single song from a bird perched on a branch or the scuttling noises of squirrels rummaging for food.

Attempts at swallowing the fear growing in his chest backfires rather quickly when he lifts his gaze to the sky. An area of gray clouds broke apart, pulling back the curtains for the bright beams of sunlight to bathe him in warmth. Body wincing the new, odd, feeling of the light absorbing into his skin, charging up the alien cells he was born with.

He’s never experienced it before, the yellow sun’s rays of light flooding throughout his body. It could have been a positive moment, feeling what his father and Jordan have so many times, but realization strikes him and the fear he tried to push away returns, this time as a jolt of panic.

Dropping his gaze to his hands, he couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of veins illuminating a golden glow under his skin. Suddenly the warmth and energy he felt seconds ago drains from his body, leaving a hollow, ice cold fear freezing the boy where he stood.

He stares at his trembling hands, Am.. Am I doing this?!

“Are you sure you’re okay? You haven’t said much since we got here.”

A voice, colored with mild concern, breaks into the moment and eyes wide as an owl’s gaze up to identify the speaker. It feels like someone rammed into his chest, the boy having to keep himself from stumbling backwards out of shock when he sees him, standing a short step away with dark blue eyes expressing worry with a mixture of hinted confusion as well.

Jordan.

Head is spinning, baffled and panicked, as he took a detailed sweep of his surroundings. The trail he was just on is gone, replaced by a wooden staircase under his boots. The forest.. Okay, he couldn’t tell the difference from one area to another, but the fact that the fallen tree log he left the woolly bear on wasn’t anywhere in sight told him enough. He’s on a completely different level of the trail, even though he wasn’t a second ago.

How long has he been walking with his dad and brother? Has he been with them the whole time? Did the woolly bear rescue truly happen? What about his dad and brother's disappearance or did all that only exist in his mind?

His head hurts.

“What's going on, man?” He feels a hand be placed on his upper arm. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Turning his focus back to Jordan, he finds it more difficult than usual to form a logical answer at the moment, only able to stutter a few simple words. “I- I- uh, I don't-”

Further up the stairs he’d apparently been climbing, their father descends and pauses on the stair above where Jordan stood.

Frown curving his lips, he glances between his sons. “Everything okay, boys?”

Before Jordan has a chance to reply with an honest answer, Jonathan speaks up first; reassuring his father of the situation with the most clear and composed words he could speak, adding a convincing but not suspiciously over the top smile as well. No shaky voice, no heavy breathing or swallowing, there can be nothing that might give off the impression he's scared.

If he does, his father will end the entire day and Jon swore he wouldn't let anything ruin this trip, not even a gap in his memory - or whatever really happened - so Jordan better keep his mouth shut and let the happening go.

The abrupt cut in earned him a swift glare but thankfully Jordan got the message and sent their father another reassurance, throwing in a jab at Jonathan about his twin brother being distracted by something before continuing to ascend the stairs.

Jonathan keeps the smile on his face when his father gives his blonde curls a playful ruffle.

“We’re almost there so if you guys are getting tired, don’t worry.”

When his dad turns away, trailing after Jordan, the forced smile drops into a frown and is followed by a stomach twisting sense of fear.

He really should have stayed home today.


It’s heavenly, the smell of freshly mixed cake batter. Not much can beat it, besides the taste, of course. And if he wants to sneak a taste, it’s gonna have to be now when Lois isn’t looking.

It’s not his fault the batter tastes better than the final product.

After casting a swift glance over his shoulder to make sure Lois was occupied setting the oven to the cake box’s suggested heat, he set his sights back on the bowl of yellow batter and swiped his tongue over his top lip like a feline.

Gar's, ever so slowly, attempt at stealing a little before-cake is quickly shut down before it really started by an unexpected but firm voice, making the green haired boy wince.

“Garfield. Do not.”

How did she do that? She's not even looking at him?

Frowning in sweet, sugary disappointment, the teenager retreats his hand and insists, “Come on, I could eat whatever I wanted on my earth.”

“Different earth, different rules.” Lois says, refusing to budge. Moving closer to where the metahuman stood, she grabs the bowl and adds: “Plus you’ll get sick.”

Gar shook his head, “I can’t get sick.”

Or he thinks he can’t.

He hasn’t gotten sick in four years, not even something as simple as a cold. It has to do with that ‘cure’ Caulder gave him. What other explanation is there? The day he gets sick will be the day his powers stop working, he's sure of it, and if his powers stop working, well then, that’ll be a very bad day for him.

“Still.” Lois hums in thought for a heartbeat, then glances back to Gar with a softer expression. “But I'll let you have the first cupcake out of the batch once they're done.”

Brown eyes sparkle, “Deal.”

On the table were two metal muffin tins accompanied by a few packs of cupcake wrappers in pastel colors, orange for Jonathan and purple for Jordan. The brothers' favorite colors. Though by their wardrobe you’d guess blue and black.

After the bowl is set on the table, Gar is called over with a head nod and handed a little measuring cup to transport small scoops of batter to the wrappers placed in the tins, with instructions that the yellow batter is only for the orange cups.

When all twelve cups are filled, Lois steps away to grab the bowl of chocolate batter she stored in the fridge to stay fresh while other things were to be done.

“Let me guess..” Gar pauses, humming in fake thought as his gaze drifts between the filled orange wrappers and empty purple. “Jon likes yellow and Jordan likes chocolate.”

Lois laughed softly while she pulled the second bowl from the fridge, “Correct.”

With a faint smile on her face, she breathes a sigh when returning to the table and adds a sentimental comment about the twins being opposites since they were born.

Gazing at the woman standing at his side, a bright smile appears on his face as eyes glitter with more curiosity. “Got any stories?”

In the process of scooping up chocolate, Lois nods. “A lot.”

Gar shrugs, “We got a few more hours.”

It’s the boys’ birthday, why not take a stroll down memory lane.. Or is that weird? Wanting to know about another family’s life? Yeah, probably. He’s been on this earth for a few months now, existing around Kents like he’s nothing more than another member of the cast, and sometimes the normalcy gets to his head and forgets he’s not truly from here.

Or maybe he’s overthinking this whole thing and asking to learn more about the family he’s currently living with is normal.

And it seems like it was because before he can backtrack his words, Lois speaks first.

“Jordan was always the quiet one, he kind of preferred to do things on his own.” Gar feels his heart grow in his chest when the faint smile on Lois’ lips grows into a beam as she chuckles warmly. “Never wanted to hold hands for too long or be held because as he put it ‘I’m a big boy and big boys don’t need to be holded’.”

When he first arrived on this earth, Gar used to believe he was somehow harming the Kent boys' relationship by being inserted into the brothers’ activities since most of Jonathan’s attention would be on him, but learned quickly that Jordan didn’t care and like Lois said, he preferred to do things on his own anyway.

“Then there was Jonathan. He had so much energy, always wanted to be doing something.” She paused for a moment, eyes darkening when she went on. “But he never wanted to be alone either. He was like a little duckling, wherever me or Clark went, he followed.”

Gar frowns, not at the words themselves, but at the hinted sadness dripping from them.

Lois sighed, “He was so sensitive and sweet.”

Was?

Now he’s confused. Jonathan might be the sweetest person Garfield has ever met, and he’s very sensitive too; especially to people’s emotions. There were times it seemed like he knew how Gar was feeling without Gar having to tell him.

Before he had a chance to process what he was doing, Gar found his mouth opening and chiming in with: “He still is. Both, actually.”

Cheeks warm up light red at his abrupt cut in; feeling like he wanted to shrink into the sweater when Lois shifts her gaze to him.

Lois sends him a half smile but her eyes say otherwise, dark with sadness and guilt. “I know.” she said softly.

Then it clicks.

Jonathan hasn’t explained in detail what happened to him or how he got into the situation, only revealed the scar on his forehead was because of it. Gar might not be as in tune with people as Jon but took notice the blonde brother’s relationship with his parents is a little on the rougher side compared to Jordan’s.

Prying into others' business isn’t something Gar does. If the other person continues to talk about the subject, that’s a different story, but Lois isn’t so he isn’t. However, the regret coloring her words told him enough. That ‘was’ didn’t mean Jon stopped being those things, it was directed at her as if she was reminding herself of how her son had been and a mistake that had been made that affected him in a negative way because they forgot.

The mood doesn’t stay sour for long though. Lois switched the topic to something more wholesome, quite cute if Gar’s being truthful, with less bad memories attached.

“He had this stuffed elephant he was obsessed with until he was around sixish.”

Gar hums, then grins. “Ya know, Jonny never struck me as a stuffed animal guy.”

When Gar was little and still living with his parents at their research facility, he didn’t have any friends since everyone else there were adults, so he resorted to treating and talking to his various stuffed animals as if they were his friends to keep him company. Sad, he knows, but then he didn’t see it that way.

He didn’t get to keep any of his plush friends from his childhood as they were taken away by the raging flash flood– that also took his parents. He can’t remember what those plushies were but does know there’s a purple tiger sitting on his bed. A plushie that would have been lost because of the frantic situation if it wasn’t for Jon asking for Jordan to zip back to the Harvest Fest to find it.

Leaning closer to the green haired teen, Lois quiets her volume into a whisper. “Don’t let Jonathan know I told you this because he would be very upset but..” She pauses for a sprinkle of dramatic effect, which Gar found humorous. “He keeps it up in his closet.”

Gar blinked, “What’d he name it?”

“Gray.”

“Oh, wow, that was anticlimactic.”

The boy’s throat rumbles with a purr as Lois laughs; not a huff or chuckle, but a genuine laugh. After a few minutes of shared awkwardness, it’s nice to hear Lois laugh. She’s the only member of the Kent family he hasn’t had much bonding time with and it makes his heart grow to see her warming up to him.

Making any of them feel uncomfortable and awkward is that last thing he wants.

Lois grabs the two full muffin tins and Gar glances to the bowls left on the table, tilting his head seeing how much batter was left from each. Are they making doubles? He can eat quite a bit of food, though might have to draw the line at that much sugar.

“There’s still a lot of batter left. What’s it for?”

“Two cakes.” Lois explains, placing the trays in the oven. “I’m taking some cupcakes and slices of cake to the community center tomorrow after work. It’s a whole paid-for dinner thing for the older residents.”

“That’s nice!” Gar purred, “Can I help?”

Looking at Gar, Lois’ eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. “You wanna hand out food? It’ll be a few hours.”

“It sounds fun.”

Nothing makes him happier than making others happy, and he is a part of this community now, he wants to lend a hand where he’s able to.

A couple of thoughtful seconds pass and Lois suggests, “The boys will be gone for a while tomorrow. If you want to, you can tag along with me to work. Not to work, but if you want to get out of the house for the day.”

Walking over to the sink to wash her hands, she frowns and adds. “I feel bad, you're left here alone so much..”

Eyes sparkle once more at the proposal, a bright toothy beam stretching and parting his lips. “You mean go to work with Lois Lane?” Excitement affecting his tone, he pipes rather loudly. “Yes!”


His father was right. It is beautiful up here, the view alone makes the aching in his legs worth it.

Leaning forward against the wooden railing that surrounded the lookout area, breathing in the fresh air and feeling a sense of relief as the cool air traveled into his lungs, Jonathan took a sweep of the landscape. The tops of large pines and desperate trees hanging onto their last leaves hiding the ground from sight and perfectly framing the lake below them, clear and rippling gently in the breeze.

Gray clouds from earlier have broken up, revealing the blue sky underneath and allowing the sun to give the day some warmth.

Jon switches his focus to his dad when a hand is placed on his shoulder blade; seeing him put the opposite hand on Jordan as well.

Clark takes a breath, eyes shining with happy memories as he gazes out over the familiar land. “This is where my dad told me about who I really was. My powers, what he expected from me, my purpose on this earth.”

Jonathan and Jordan share a glance, both boys wondering the same thing. Are they about to be told a Kryptonian family secret? Is that why they’re really out here?

“I’m just so glad to be experiencing this with you two.” He pats the twins’ shoulders, “It makes this moment even better.”

The boys turn around to face their smiling father and Jordan asks, “What’s going on?”

Behind the glasses’ shield, Jonathan could make out tears building in his father's eyes. His heart clenched his chest and lips drop into a frown, hoping those were happy tears and not ‘Surprise! I’m sending you off the planet’ tears. That doesn’t make sense, he knows.

“My mother and I have been working on these for a while. A lot of trial and error.” The man chuckled warmly as he peels his coat back and reaches into the inner pocket. Pulling out two small, identical shapes wrapped in a thin veil of blue paper to conceal the gift’s identity, he hands one to each brother. “They’ve been finished for a few weeks, but I thought giving them to you on your birthday would have more of an impact.”

It’s heavier than he expected in his hand. Not enough to cause a struggle, more of a stone of some kind. Eyes narrowing in focus, inspecting the shape of the gift. The many angles, the orange glow seen from under the paper, it looked familiar. Kind of like a sharp carrot if he’s being totally honest.

Jordan tilts his head, “What is it?”

“Open it and see.” Clark smiled.

Carefully removing the paper, Jonathan’s breath catches in his throat. Eyes stretch wide at the sight of a bright orange crystal cradled in his palm. Mouth falling agape, he lifts his chin and gazes up at his father, who’s eyes shone with an overflowing sense of pride and joy.

“Are these-?”

Clark nods in confirmation, “When you’re older, and know when the right time is, these crystals will create you your own fortress’ where you choose.”

With matching dumbstruck expressions, the brothers share another glance; wide eyes staring at each other. Only dragging their attention back to their father when he puts a hand on each boys’ shoulder.

“Now don’t think this present is me forcing you guys to take on a role you might not want. That’s not what it’s for.”

Jonathan felt like shrinking into his coat when his father’s gaze lingered a bit too long on him. It's a purposeful decision. He’s talking to Jordan too, of course, but he wants to make sure Jon hears and processes what he’s saying. And Jon understands that, just wishes it didn’t make him feel like there was a spotlight burning him. Really. His skin is itchy and tingly with heat.

Maybe it’s the inside of his coat.

“It’s for whatever you boys want it to be. Whether you decide to throw a cape on or not, doesn’t matter to me. All I care about is that you both are happy and living the life you want.”

Jon attempts to swallow the lump forming in his throat when his father’s volume quiets, softening into a gentle tone, talking straight from his heart. His teary, deep blue eyes shifting between both of his sons as he speaks.

“You don’t have to be a superhero for me to love you and be proud of you.”

While Jordan sends their father a heartfelt response and is engulfed in a hug, Jon drops his gaze to the crystal in hand. A crystal that means so much to his father, his family, his heritage. Full of stories and information of the lost Krypton: his home planet. A planet he’ll never be able to see physically, only be able to experience through holograms.

This little crystal is so important.

His hand twitches, then instinctively tightens around the fragile space artifact.

He doesn't deserve this gift. What has he done to earn it? His father and brother do so much more than him, Jordan even occasionally aiding Superman on simpler, not so dangerous missions. It feels wrong for him to receive and accept such a special gift when he hasn’t done anything besides lay around the house for two years.

There were multiple times where his brother invited him to train alongside him, but every time Jon declined. Thinking he’d be nothing but merely a spectator, sit on the sidelines and watch his family be super without him. There couldn’t be much training Jon would’ve been able to participate in, besides taking a few swings.

Death lazers coming out of his eyes or being able to lift a school bus with ease don’t seem to be in the roster of what powers he might be forming. If you consider your throat turning into a lava lamp as powers that is.

"Jonathan?"

Clark's voice grounds his thoughts and grabs his attention, blue eyes returning to look at his father.

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” Jon flashes the most genuine smile he could muster, “It's a great gift.”

His father frowns at the half-assed attempt, which he couldn’t say was a surprise. If his response was any more unconvincing, he’d be telling the truth.

“Jon.”

“It's just I-” Jon frowns, avoiding eye contact once more. “I didn't do anything to deserve this.”

He hears his father sigh and the teenager feels a pang of disappointment. His mission of ‘don’t ruin your father’s day’ is crashing and burning right in front of him all because he overthought and couldn’t accept his own birthday present.

“Jonathan, it’s not a gift you needed to earn. I gave it to you because you’re my son and I love you.” Jon winces slightly at his father gently grabbing onto his upper arms. His blue gaze lifted and met his dad's, frown still stuck to his face. “And because I wanted you to have a piece of your family’s history. It has nothing to do with powers or needing to prove yourself.”

Jon nods slowly.

“Is a hug okay?”

After a heartbeat of hesitation, the blonde teenager moved forward and accepted the open arms waiting for him. Tense shoulders deflating as he’s engulfed in a familiar embrace. Keeping his arms at his side, he tightens his protective hold on the crystal in hand just in case, but smiles at the feeling of physical affection.

Carefully squeezing his side of the hug, Clark whispers. “You don't have to be Superman, you just have to be you.”

Yeah, but what about Superboy?

Taking a breath, Jon releases from the hug. “Thanks, for real this time.” He holds the crystal up and huffs a mini laugh, “And for this, it means a lot. Don’t when I’ll use it, though.”

Clark smiles, “When the right time comes, you’ll know.”

Appearing at their father’s side, Jordan holds his crystal out and mouths ‘beach house’, making Jonathan chuckle. A beach house sounds nice, he’s a big fan of sunny days and the smell of saltwater, but his mind went towards a fortress somewhere in the forest. Or maybe a jungle near an ocean. That could work.

An untouched island somewhere.

Ocean and sandcastles for him, jungle with trees to climb and animals to talk to for Garfield.. Wait. Why is he including Gar?

Didn't have much time to dwell on that before his father spoke to him again.

“Oh, and one more thing. I meant to tell you this after the Harvest Fest-”

Eyes widened slightly and cheeks suddenly flush red at the mention of the Harvest Fest. He hasn't forgotten what happened (or almost happened) there, and doesn't think he ever will. Yesterday night's dream made that fact very clear.

“-but more important things had to be taken care of first. Tomorrow morning I'll be taking you and Jordan to the Fortress.”

“I just went?” Jordan chimes in.

Clark corrects, “Yes, but not for the reason you'll be going tomorrow.”

Anxiety twinges in his chest. The last time Jonathan took a trip to the fortress was years ago, when it was still ice and had his grandfather as a hologram, he’s never met his grandmother. Holo-gramps wasn’t overly thrilled to meet him, most interested in studying Jordan, so he can only assume holo-grandma will be the same. Or it could be the complete opposite, he has powers this time– of some kind.

And said powers affecting you in ways that make you lose an hour of memory might be a reason to go to the Fortress and get checked out. He can think of many situations where suddenly losing his memory would lead to very bad things happening. What the hell memory loss has to do with Kryptonian powers, he doesn’t know but would greatly appreciate an answer, along with the bonfire stuck in his throat.

Now that he’s thinking about it.. What was he doing and saying during that hour? Hopefully it wasn’t anything stupid. He imagines Jordan would have brought it up by now if he was.

“You'll both be getting a simple check up and that's all.” Switching focus to Jon again, Clark adds. “Will you be alright?”

Jon shrugs, “Yeah, I’d like to meet grandma.” He pauses. “Wait, this check up won’t have anything uncomfortable involved, right?”

Clark chuckles, “No, you’re gonna be scanned and that’s all.”

As long as he can be clothed during the scanning and not be shoved into a deafening, claustrophobic, nightmare tube, he should be fine.


As nice as it was to be out for a few hours with his family, Jonathan is more than glad to be walking through the front door and removing his coat, he’s not a cold weather kind of guy; much rather be strolling around a mall or even grocery shopping, where it’s warm inside.

Smells better inside his house too, the scent of barbecue pork drifting into his nose. Of course they're having barbecue pulled pork on his birthday, it's his favorite thing.

“I thought I heard the front door shut.”

Nevermind, it's his second favorite thing.

Blood rushes into the alien boy’s cheeks, faint smile growing wider at the sight of his green haired roommate progressing down the hall from the kitchen, asking how his day went when halting in front of him.

“Fine.” Jon shrugged. Not in mood to go into details, he changes the subject to something a little more important to him. His smile morphs into more of a semi-bashful grin as he scratches the side of his face (the non-injured side) out of habit and cheeks become warmer. “I feel like I haven't seen you all day and ya know, I'm not really a fan.”

Funny how an afternoon that would have been like every average day a few months ago seemed odd now. Thinking about how his life had been months ago, when it was his family only living in their home, it made his heart ache. The depressing thought of his bedroom lacking a second bed or never having one at all.

Gar chuckles softly, his cheeks gaining color also. “I was gonna text you but Lois reminded me Clark made your trip a 'no phones' one, so.”

“Such a crap rule.” Jon sighed, “I wanted to take pictures.”

“It's about the precious family memories, Starboy.”

Jon scoffs, “I’ll forget them by next week.” Besides like.. two.

After another chuckle, Garfield gently punches the sunnier twin’s arm and nods to the side, suggesting Jonathan follow him if he wants dinner. Agreeing as he was quite hungry, only to stop dead in his tracks by a voice.

“Starboy?”

The red exclusively coloring his cheeks rapidly spreads throughout his face. Twisting around to look at his father, who’s shedding his coat and hanging it on the tree next to the door, Jon clears his throat and replies.

“Uh, yeah, nickname. It’s an alien thing, I guess.”

Clark smiles, shoulders bouncing as he huffs a mini laugh through his nose. “Your mom used to call me ‘Smallville’, ‘Kansas’, ‘farm boy’, anything related to me being from the countryside, really.”

Jonathan crosses his arms, “What are you implying?”

“Nothing, just reminiscing.” Jon frowns when his dad steps past him and gives his hair a quick ruffle. “Let’s get some dinner.”

“Nothing” seems to be his father’s favorite response to Jonathan’s crush-related questions as of late.

/

It wasn’t a birthday party per-se, more of a little celebration. There’s no balloons or decorations, only dinner, dessert, and wrapped gifts. And after a long day, he didn’t expect the boys to be in a festive mood - the gods know he wouldn’t be -, but did think Jonathan would at least be somewhat chipper. Jordan being the one who’s cracking jokes and keeping conversation when that’s mainly Jon’s area.

Could Garfield be reading too much into this? Could Jon just be tired after hiking for hours? Yes. But he also knows his friend more than anyone else here and something about how the blonde brother stayed mostly quiet during dinner, chiming in with a weak chuckle here and there in response to a joke Jordan made, told Gar something might be wrong.

The way Jon’s lips barely smiled and kept his eyes, clouded with apprehension, pointed down at his plate reminded the teenager of all the other times he’s seen Jonathan troubled by unspoken thoughts. He knows the signs, they’re such a drastic change from the Jon he sees most days.

He wonders if Clark and Jordan know about what might have happened, however, asking now wouldn’t be the correct time nor did he feel like it was his place to ask.

That’s why when Jordan is in the middle of opening gifts, everyone’s attention directed onto him, and Jonathan uses the fact to his advantage, grabbing his coat from the staircase in the process of exiting outside onto the front porch, Gar takes matters into his own hands.

Getting up from the living room chair, Gar snatches his jacket from the coat tree and follows after his roommate. Stepping outside, his gaze promptly lands on Jonathan planted on the top step with head hung low and drooping shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

Gar’s frown deepens when Jon responds with a simple shrug.

After closing the door, the porch boards creak as Gar progresses closer to his friend. “Do you wanna talk about what’s going on?”

He hears Jon take a breath. “I think it’s alien hybrid stuff,” He straightens his posture, softly slapping his palms against the tops of his thighs. “So I don’t understand it.”

Lowering to sit next to Jon, Gar sends him an empathic look. “I get it. Not understanding how you’re feeling.” He tilts his head slightly, “Did you talk to your dad about it?”

“No. He’s been looking forward to his day for so long and I didn’t want to ruin it.” Pressing the side of his face into his knuckles, he mumbles. “Probably should have told him though.”

Garfield understands what it’s like to not be human, to be something that shouldn’t exist. Something beyond human and their understanding. He’s been metahuman for so long it’s normal to him. Jonathan, however, he’s new to this ‘being special’ stuff and Gar can relate to that, just not the ‘truly being from outer space’ and ‘powered by the sun’ parts.

Kory was the only alien Gar was close to with on his earth but the queen knew she was an alien from the moment she was born and had been taught to use her powers long before they met. No journey of self-discovery there.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to help.” Pointing his gaze down to his hands set on his lap, he sounds a weak chuckle. “You would think I would since I’m not human either, but..”

The teenager’s focus returns to his friend once more when he twists his neck to look at Gar and speaks. “And I don’t expect you to. It’s not your job to take care of me.”

Gar presses his lips into a thin line and nods slowly for a few heartbeats, then separates the line to flash a faint smile. “Yeah, I know, but I still want to cheer you up somehow.”

It might not be his job to take care of Jonathan, he knows he can’t always do that, but he can always be a good friend and try to shine a little rainbow into his cloudy moments. Jon would do the same for him.

For a swift moment Jonathan averts his gaze to the side and chews on his bottom lip. Much like his mother, behind his eyes there was an inner discussion going on; mentally trying to decide on what he should say or do.

Once again, eyes a sparkling ice blue lock with his and Gar’s breath catches his throat. The familiarity. How he gazed into those same eyes when dancing together at the Harvest Fest, how they spun around and laughed together, hand in hand. What a simple dance led to- or almost led to.

“Well, I like your company so just having you around makes me feel better.”

Pulse suddenly picking up in pace, Gar clears his throat and fidgets with his jacket’s pull-strings out of habit. Despite being unable to see his face, he’s more than sure it must be as red as a male cardinal’s feathers right now. His face couldn’t be more hot.

You know, now that he finally understands why he feels this way, he couldn’t say he hated it. For a while it seemed like he’d be stuck constantly feeling like no one wanted him, never seeing him as important or someone to… Anyway, it’s nice to feel things like blushing cheeks and tingly fingers. They’re such simple and natural feelings to others, but he couldn’t imagine how. Feeling like this seems so special, almost magical, as if it was a gift from the gods.

“And I like your ears.”

Caught off guard by the unexpected change, he laughs softly and sends his friend a questioning look. “What?”

Jonathan lifts a finger to point at the shapeshifter’s ear. “Your ears are pointy again.”

His jaw drops slightly in a silent gasp. Now aware, he feels the extra muscles stretch as his ears flatten out in reaction. Movement that wouldn't be natural to human ears.

“I hate to assume, but those are your real ears, aren't they?”

Gar frowns at the question, combating the urge to cover his ears with his hands like a pair of earmuffs by shoving them into his jacket pockets. “What gave it away?”

A contrast to his frown, Jon's lips pull into a warm smile. “They turn pointy when you sleep.”

Because shifting his ears to match a human’s was a struggle to learn. Niles Caulder told him he could only change his appearance into animals; not alter his human form. If he was going to sneak out, he’d have to blend in with the crowd and couldn’t if his ears resembled an elf’s. So he taught himself to shapeshift the point away, no matter how hard or painful it was, to him it was worth it when he could sneak away from Doom Manor and investigate the town miles away.

It’s the only body part he can shapeshift and can’t imagine trying to shift anything bigger than them. Like shifting in an animal, keeping his ears round takes power - thankfully not a lot - but still, power he can’t quite keep going when he’s asleep unlike when sleeping in animal form.

“I was hoping no one would notice.”

Leaning against one of the porch’s support beams, Jon crosses his arms and asks out of genuine curiosity. “Why?- I mean, why are you shifting them?”

Gar shrugs, “I just needed to blend in. I can explain this-” he lifts a hand to gesture to the forest of green. “- with hair dye. Pointy ears, though? I got nothing for that.”

Jonathan blinks, eyes shining with something Gar couldn’t decipher in the moment. “So, they’re a part of the real you?”

“Sure, you can put it that way.” A realization abruptly cuts into the mood and the metahuman teen begins to laugh, pointing his gaze accusingly at his friend. “Hey, why are we talking about me? We’re supposed to be talking about you!”

Jon catches the contagious laughter and puts his hands up in defense, “I have nothing to talk about!”

“That’s such bullshit, Kent!” Gar throws his hand out to the side, towards the front door, “You literally came out here because you were upset you didn’t talk to your dad.”

Slipping an index finger under his shirt collar, Jon tugs it forward and smile turns into a more ‘caught in the act’ grin, “Oh, yeah, I did.”

An ear twitches. “You changed the subject on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Can yes and no be a response? Because that’s the most truthful one I got.”

Gar shakes his head, “One of these days we’re gonna sit for hours and talk about you.”

“We cannn..” Jonathan scoots over to Garfield, making the shapeshifter smirk and raise an eyebrow. “talk about what you got me for my birthday if you want.”

Gar scoffs, "I'm starting to think you don’t deserve it after that whole tricking me into changing the subject stunt."

Jon knows he's joking, it's clear by the expression on his face. He doesn't believe a word he's saying. Which is a good thing.

"How do I lose my own birthday gift?" Gar gives him another shrug as an answer, and the alien boy continues to press on with questions. "Mom told me you said it was homemade. Is it like some kind of arts and crafts project?"

"It's homemade as in 'you couldn't buy it as is in a store'." Exhaling a breath, the boy's cheeks warm up again as he rubs the side of his neck, this time out of embarrassment rather than attraction. "And now that I'm thinking about it, it seems stupid."

"I seriously doubt it's stupid."

After shaking his head again to clear out the fog of doubt, he returns his focus to Jon. "Okay, okay, you know how you won me that tiger plushie to take back home? For remembrance?"

Jon nods.

"It's like that. Something for you to have to remember me."

When Jonathan strangely stays silent, Gar continues; feeling dumb for how flustered he probably looks. Crazy how quickly the mood can change, laughter one second then awkward talking the second.

"It's a football. An embroidered football, it has a green paw print." Jon's eyebrows raise at that. "I thought, you like football and throw a ball with Jordan sometimes, why not give you a football that'll always remind you of me."

Gods, he's no good at this. He must sound so stupid. Less 'ta-da! I bought you an amazing gift!' and more wanting to tighten his jacket hood over his face, fall forward onto the ground, and cover himself in dirt.

"Wow," Jonathan breathed, a bright twinkle in his round eyes. "You thought of that for me?"

"I might have over-thought it," He pinches the tip of his index finger and thumb together, "just a little bit." With a faint chuckle, he adds. "I just wanted it to be perfect but it ended kind of cliche."

"It's not."

A loud purr rumbles in his throat when Jonathan places his hand over his, flipping it palm side up to entangle their fingers.

It's happening again.

Time is slowing down, their surroundings blurring out existence; only Jonathan in focus.

The boys' eyes locked in a starry stare, glued to each other, refusing to look away.

With heart threatening to burst out of his chest, Gar swallows when a hand is lifted to cradle his cheek. Excitement and anticipation mixing together, making his body feel like it could explode at any second.

It's not what he was expecting, a tender kiss to be placed against his cheek instead of his lips, but the difference didn't affect the feelings suddenly washing over him like a pink wave full of candy hearts and sparkles.

Pulling back an inch or two, Jonathan's hand lingers on Garfield's cheek as he gazes into the other's eyes and says softly. "You are the sweetest person I have ever met."

Brown eyes grow wide, glowing brightly with wonderment and affection despite the darkness of outside. Face, from his cheeks to the tips of his pointy ears (that perk up and wiggle a little), burning a hot red, Gar's lips part into a faint smile and he finds himself giggling like a little kid before being able to form a word.

"You too."

The smile grows when Jonathan's nose does that cute scrunch as he leans away and laughs at the ridiculous response. The noise of amusement promptly quiets not long after it sounds though, the blonde teenager composing and adding rather loudly, no doubt from the adrenaline running through his veins.

Because if he feels like he could take laps on laps around a field while screaming with joy, Jon probably does too.

"Oh! before I forget I–"

Behind them, cutting into the mood, the front door swings open, bringing the inside light outside, beaming onto them like a pair of headlights. Putting them under a hypothetical spotlight.

Standing in the doorway, Jordan's eyes narrowed in a questioning glare. "What are you two doing?"

Twisting to the side to face his twin, Jon raises an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

The darker haired brother points a finger and waves it between Gar and Jon. "Obviously, not whatever this is."

Jon rolls his eyes.

"Anyway, mom said it's time for cake." Jordan smirks, "You can make out afterwards."

Face now redder than it had been a second ago, Jon frowns. "You're not funny."

"No, but your face sure is." Jordan snorted, then stepped back inside.

Once the door is shut and clicks for confirmation, Jon's expression softens from the scowl he sent Jordan as he takes a breath and returns his focus to his green haired.. friend.

"Like I was saying, I gotta go to the Fortress tomorrow, I'm getting some kind of alien check up." Clearing his throat and averting his gaze for a swift moment, he takes a breath to likely calm his nerves and swiftly build courage. "But after that, would you want to, maybe, go out to dinner together?"

Gar blinks. "I, uh, promised to help your mom at the community center tomorrow-"

He watches the light in Jonathan's gaze extinguish, the disappointment clearer than freshly washed glass. The blonde teenager pouts his lips but nods in understanding.

"-but,"

Gar gently squeezes the hand already connected with his tighter and reaches for the other with his opposite, grabbing and holding it up with its twin.

The light returns to rings of blue when Gar begins to emit a light purr.

"When I'm done with that, I'd love to."

Notes:

Next chapter:
When getting ready to leave for the Fortress, Jordan finds out something is very wrong with his brother.

Chapter 16: The Fortress (part 1)

Summary:

When getting ready to leave for the Fortress, Jordan finds out something is very wrong with his brother.

Notes:

*slam this chapter down on a table* WHOA do you see this?? I finally got to write a shorter chapter and got to post it before an entrie month goes by! must be a new year's miracle!

Oh, and it's all Jon angst.. but what else is new? We're technically in his arc so it's mostly gonna be focused on him. Gotta get this boy some powers so the plot can advance.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Do I even wanna ask what’s going on here?”

Jordan doesn’t expect to see anything abnormal when he rises in the morning, even with how supernatural his life can be at times. Nothing more than small animals scurrying across the yard and birds singing atop their branches, the occasional deer maybe.. if that deer is Gar.

And assumed today would be as normal as the others.

Then he looked into the living room to see his brother practically sunk down into the couch cushions, with one hand holding a bag of frozen peas against his chest, and clad in shorts and a tank top, which was odd since he needed to be dressed warmly for the trip to the Fortress,

“Dude, I feel awful.” Jon breathed, keeping his gaze pointed at the ceiling. “My chest is burning.”

Stepping into the living room, Jordan sighs. “I told you not to eat cake right after a pork sandwich. You probably have like-” He shrugs, “awful heartburn.”

“I took–” A spark of worry flickers in the teen when he sees his brother’s face scrunch in pain when he tried to respond, as if it hurts to speak. “I took Tums earlier. It didn’t do anything.”

Keeping his eyes squeezed shut as he attempts to sit forward, pain flashes across Jon’s face once more, making his brother wince and begin to stretch a comforting hand out.

“It’s not that.” Not only does Jordan take note of Jonathan’s appearance, but his voice as well. It’s wheezy and quiet, like he’s out of breath. “I- I know what that feels like, I’ve never felt this before.”

“How long has this been going on?”

Jon swallows, then forces a grin. “Truthfully? Weird things have been happening to me since yesterday afternoon.”

Jordan’s frown deepens at the words confirming what he had guessed yesterday.

Something was- and still is -wrong with his brother. Knowing Jonathan long enough to point and pick out the smaller details that tell him what Jon won’t, like how his blonde twin was awfully quiet when he caught up to Jordan and their father after he was called. Only responding to questions and even normal conversation topics with one letter words and humming noises, until he suddenly looked horrified at the sight of Jordan and the area they were currently traveling through.

Both he and his father noticed the odd behavior but decided to chalk it up to what happened at the Harvest Fest continuing to bother him, or just the idea of celebrating his birthday again, since it would’ve been an explanation with proof to back it up. Shutting down and keeping to himself is what his brother normally does when he’s stuck in his own head.

Then the moment on the stairs happened and Jordan began to think otherwise.

“But this started an hour or so ago.”

Jordan’s pulse speeds up when his brother twists his neck to look at him, gaze immediately finding the skin tinted red under his twin’s eyes and splotches of brighter, more apparent, red giving an unnatural color to the whites of his eyes.

Jonathan looked miserable. Utterly exhausted, like something is draining every inch of energy from him. It’s not a new look, Jordan’s seen it before and that’s the scary part.

“What exactly started an hour ago?” Jordan asks, trying to keep the fear in his voice as undetectable as possible; not wanting to cause panic.

“Like..” Jon shifts a little, musing on the question for a moment. “My chest burning.. or maybe lungs, I don’t-” He pauses, gently biting his lower lip. “I don’t know. It’s getting harder to breathe.”

Jordan noticed his brother was taking odd breaths, heavy and quick, and more often than a normal, steady inhale and exhale, but assumed it was from anxiety since he’s experienced it most of his life and knows what could trigger it.

Lifting the frozen bag to his forehead, he adds. “And if I got any hotter, I'd burst into flames.”

That rings a bell. An opposite bell, but a bell nonetheless.

There had been a time where Jordan remembered complaining about extreme body temperature, expressing how cold he was; like his bones were made of ice and skin frosty to the touch. He was so cold in fact that he had to wear winter attire in the heated house in an attempt to not turn into a human sized popsicle, and ended up at the Fortress.

His past experiences seemed to match what Jon is going through.

But, he interrupts his own thoughts. That was ice breath.

Jonathan isn’t complaining about being cold, so it couldn’t be ice breath. He said he’s hot, and fire breath isn’t a thing… Unless it is? What if his heat vision and ice breath swapped roles, is that a thing that can happen?

He’ll have to muse on it later because his brother speaking pulls the teenager out of his thoughts.

“Jordan, can-” Removing the frozen bag from his forehead and setting it to the side, Jon places his hands down on the couch, pressing his palms firmly into the cushion as if to keep himself balanced. “Can you help me outside, I can’t move that well.”

Jordan nods.

In a woosh of air both boys appear outside in their front yard. It’s much colder than it had been inside, breath being visualized in a small, smoky cloud. The drop in temperature had to be the reasoning for Jonathan wanting to move out here, it had to be. Maybe if he cools down he’ll feel better and Jordan can figure out if what’s happening is human or Kryptonian.

But heavy breaths growing more desperate for air accompanied by a pounding heart filling sensitive ears tells the boy his fears are probable to come true.

When his brother bends over slightly and places a hand over his same area of his chest, Jordan goes to rest a comforting touch on his arm but quickly retreats his hand when it felt like pressing his fingertips into a burning stovetop.

Biting his tongue in reaction to the sharp burn in his fingers, he tries to shoo away his fear and reassure his twin despite the shake to his voice.

“Jon, I- I’m gonna call dad, okay? He’ll know what–”

Something mixed between a gasp and scream sounds from the older twin after Jon emits a whimper and collapses to the ground, his body curling in on itself as he crosses his arms tightly over his chest and eyes squeezed shut send tears to stream down the face twisted in pain.

Dropping to his knees, shouting his brother's name in a panic seemed to be all Jordan could do as dark blue eyes frantically search for what could be causing such intense pain. There has to be something. Something to tell him what's really happening.

It can't be human, it just can't.

And his twin's throat beginning to glow light red from the inside followed by the veins under his skin illuminating a fiery orange confirms he's right. Which means there's only one thing he can do next.

Snapping his head up, pointing his gaze to the sheet of blue above, he calls as loudly and clear as he could without his voice breaking.

“Dad! Something’s wrong with Jonathan! Dad!”

It felt like an eternity of staring at the cloudless sky before the loud boom of his father landing caught his attention, a sound he never thought could be the source of such relief.

Shifting his gaze from above to the man dressed in blue and red standing a few steps away from him, Jordan found himself looking at an expression he rarely sees find home on his father's face: mouth agape and eyes stretched wide, staring at Jonathan, who's become quiet and lying motionless on the ground.

There's a memory replaying behind his father's eyes, Jordan knows there is, and knows what the memory is, why it's keeping the Man of Steel frozen in place.

But before the darker haired son could try to free his father from his mental rewind, there's a strong woosh of air that almost knocks him onto his back and Superman is gone, along with his brother.

/

“Mother!”

His cry echoes through the Fortress as he lands at entrance and advances forward.

In response to the call, the hologram of a woman clad in a traditional Kryptonian dress materializes and turns her attention onto her son, taking notice of the unfamiliar blonde boy being held protectively in his arms.

“Kal, what happened?”

Halting in front of his mother, Clark glanced down to Jonathan limp in his arms, frown deepening at the sight of the glowing veins traveling from his throat into his face.

“My son, his powers are surfacing,” He returns his focus to Lara, eyes pleading for her help. “But they're hurting him. I don't know what to do.”

“Your son?” Lara whispered, then turned around after a quick shake of her head. “Follow me.”

Clark nods and trails quickly after his mother. If anyone would know how to help his son, it'd be her.

Gazing down at Jonathan once more, the unwanted familiarity of the situation causes the man's stomach to twist into knots and eyes to shine with tears forming in the corners.

He remembers the first time, he'll never forget it, the way his son was slumped in his arms, unmoving and unresponsive to the world around him, covered in bruises and scrapes, with large amounts of blood leaking down his face from an area of his forehead that'd been split open.

When the location his mother was leading him to had been reached, Clark stepped inside once the automatic sliding door opened and carefully placed his son onto the large, flat surface made of crystal set in the middle of the room at his mother's command.

Once Jonathan was laid down on the crystal bed, or table, whatever it was, it began to glow a soft pink and hum. Clark moves towards the top to stand by his son's head, gazing down at boy who seemed so small on the large surface, he frowns and gently brushes blonde curls from Jon’s forehead, then winces when a bar of light flashes to life under his body. Like a printer scanner, the light starts to run down and up, making the man look to his mother for an explanation.

“This scan should tell me what's wrong,” Lara gives her son a look as reassuring and warm as an AI could pull off. “Then we can try to correct it.”

While he appreciated his mother's smile, he couldn’t replicate, so he nodded again. As the light continues move up and down, he watches his hologram mother tilt her head and furrow her brows; gathering bits and pieces of information the scan could find until completion and the results are sent to his mother.

Once received, the bed’s hum quiets and the pink glow fades away; returning the crystals to their clear blue color.

“His cells are strange.”

Clark sighs, “Father said the same thing.”

And he hated hearing it again as much as the first time, but at least his mother had curiosity behind her observation and didn’t add a comment about Jonathan being wrong like his father did.

“Jon-El is forming powers.” Lara tells him. “Yet it looks like his cells don’t react to the yellow sun like yours. Similar, but not the same.”

The man tilts his head, “What do you mean?”

“You can expel ice, correct?”

“Yes.”

Lara waves a hand over Jonathan’s chest and the bed glows again. This time a holographic pair of lungs raised out of the teenager rather than the previous scanner shining underneath him. Inside the hologram, swirling flames appeared, causing the clear color to turn bright red.

She directs Clark's attention to the swirling flames and explains, “His lungs seem to be able to create and expel fire instead.”

Clark blinks, “Fire?”

Of course it was fire. Now it all made sense and Clark felt like punching himself in the face for being so oblivious. Everything Jonathan described feeling this past week matched the struggle Jordan went through when his ice breath was forming, but because Jon mentioned heat and didn’t think fire breath was possible, Clark dismissed the idea before he could even think of it.

“This ability is making his body temperature hotter than any human could survive.” Lara frowns and Clark could swear he saw genuine concern in her eyes. “I fear the extreme heat is what caused this. His human side can’t handle it.

“How hot is he?”

“Right now, he’s currently at two hundred degrees fahrenheit.” The words made the man’s heart drop into his stomach. “Since his Kryptonian side is unaffected by the heat, it’s the sole reason he’s survived this far.”

“Is there a way we can cool him down?” While disliking how demanding his tone came out, he couldn’t get himself to stop the words coming out of his mouth and apologize. “Something like this happened to Jordan in the past, father had to burn the ice out of him. Can we do that with water? Ice? something?”

The man swallows when his mother frowns again and shakes her head. “Jon-El’s power isn’t one I’ve seen before, we don’t have the technology.”

Heart pounding in his ears, Clark steps closer to Lara and questions, volume louder than he intended. “What happens if we can’t cool him down? Will he heat up more? Is he going to die?”

“Kal-”

“I almost lost him once, mother, I can’t!-”

He pauses to take a controlled breath in an effort to calm the anger bubbling inside him, making his blood boil. His mother didn't deserve to have it aimed at her, she's only tried to help in the ways she can.

Jonathan would want him to find a solution to the problem; not jump to the worst conclusions and panic.

Eyes darkening, he glances back to Jonathan laying in a - thankfully peaceful - unconscious state on the crystal bed.

“He can't do it again.” He whispers.

Raising a transparent hand to cradle her son's face, a small smile appears on Lara's face and despite not being able to feel his mother's touch, he finds comfort in the gesture.

He knows his mother is nothing more than AI, a hologram of a long gone woman, but during moments like this he thinks, maybe, just maybe, she can feel some kind of emotion.

“I know something that might work.” She says, retreating her hand, and casting a glance back to her grandson as well. “There is a way to temporarily weaken his powers and in the weakened state Jon-El can be taught to properly use his powers before they grow to this extreme again.”

A more than welcome feeling of relief calmed some of the anxiety giving him a stomachache, however, it was followed by a strong pang of guilt. Jonathan wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn’t for him, if he just kept a closer ear on him like he said he would, or looked into Jon's concerns when he brought them up, he could have saved his son from all this confusion and pain.

“But I'm afraid you or Jor-El can not be with him during the process. You both would be weakened too.”

Clark couldn’t help but furrow his brows and tilt his head like a confused dog at what Lara told him.

Is his mother going to infect Jonathan with kryptonite?

Notes:

Next chapter:
Clark informs Lois and Gar about Jonathan's situation and brings them to the Fortress. Later,
Jonathan and his mother have an important conversation.

Chapter 17: The Fortress (part 2)

Summary:

Clark informs Lois and Gar about Jonathan's situation and brings them to the Fortress. Later,
Jonathan and his mother have an important conversation.

Notes:

I got nothing to say besides sorry this took so long.. losing motivation and trying to get it back after shitty weeks is my enemy. and sorry about how dialogue heavy this chapter is, the next one is more fun I promise

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

This place- this room - had to be an area of his father’s ocean Fortress.

Glistening crystal walls surrounding him from all sides, see-through glassy floor under his feet revealing the water below, what else was he supposed to conclude from this information? He’s currently residing in a huge fish tank. Complete with a fancy light too.. he thinks it’s a light? Doesn’t know what else it could be.

It’s another crystal, sharp end pointed down, stuck in the middle of the ceiling, glowing a vibrant fiery red with darker, almost black flecks inside the crystal itself rather than giving off a shine. Speaking of the shine, it’s strange, because it’s illuminating the room as any light would do but seems to be giving off a sort of aura at the same time. Not one that’s affecting his mood, something physical, but can quite figure out what it is.

He can’t figure out how long he’s been in this room either. There’s no way to tell time here and he left his phone at home, so getting in contact with anyone isn’t happening.

It’s boring, it’s quiet, he’s completely alone other than the bed (also made of crystal, what a surprise!) he woke up on and is the cause for the ache in his lower back. Kind of feels like he’s been imprisoned for a crime he’s not aware he committed.

And the lack of doors or windows only makes the “prison” feeling more real.

With nothing else to do, Jonathan sat on the glassy floor and gazed down at the water flowing under him, catching sight of the occasional fish swimming by every now and then; a quick reminder he still exists and not trapped in some lame, crystal purgatory.

The teenager’s oh-so exhilarating activity of doodling invisible shapes on the floor with his fingertip comes to an end when a voice sounds from behind him, breaking the silence.

Quickly getting to his feet, a bright smile of welcome appears on the blonde boy’s lips and his intention of greeting his brother with a ‘what took you so long?’ is put to an abrupt end when he sees his brother didn’t quite look himself. Sight appearance was the same: still a few inches shorter, wearing the black hoodie he rarely takes off, messier hair reaching past his ears and dark blue eyes.. but his physical appearance had changed.

Body giving off a blue glow and glitching like an old film reel.. Jonathan could see straight through his brother.

Jordan was a hologram, just like their grandma.

He’s heard his parents express the similarities between them and their blood-related grandparents before, but this is taking it to another level.

A smile appears on his brother’s face. “Weird, right? I’m see-through!”

His pulse speeds up as the only explanation for this change pops into his mind, “Oh my god, I accidentally killed you and dad put your soul into an AI.”

The amused expression morphs into one of exasperation, a look Jon’s seen sent his way quite a lot. “No. Grandma used some projector thing to project me into here so I can talk to you.”

He calms at response. That’s a relief. But it forms another question.

“Why? Why can’t you come in, like, as you?”

Directing Jonathan’s focus up to the crystal in the ceiling with a pointed finger, Jordan answers simply: “Because of that.”

Jon’s brows furrowed in confusion. Not understanding how a thing as basic as an oddly colored light-crystal thing could harm his brother, he returns his gaze to Jordan and tilts his head slightly.

“The fancy, party light?”

“It’s not a party light, Jo, it’s a crystal.” No shit. Everything in here is. “Infused with essence of the Red Sun.”

“What the hell is a red sun? I thought the sun was yellow?”

After the ask there’s a brief moment of silence where Jordan stares at him, baffled, like the dumbest question with the most obvious answer just came out of Jonathan’s mouth.

In the few quiet seconds Jon thought his brother’s hologram might have frozen and began to reach a hand out to poke the hologram out of curiosity, wondering if his finger would go through it. Before he could find out however, Jordan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between a finger and thumb.

“Right, I forgot you know nothing about our family’s culture.” Stepping past and through Jonathan, Jordan stops under the crystal and looks back to his twin. “You know how our sun gives us powers?”

Jon nods. It was one of the first things he learned about the alien side of his family; it has crossed his mind at least once each day he sees the sun since then.

“Well, the Red Sun weakens our powers. If we’re under it long enough, it temporarily takes them away.”

A faint smile appears on Jonathan's lips, watching his brother trying to be confident and distinguished as he explains the strange crystal. While it's a bit humorous seeing his twin acting like a teacher in high school, it felt a bit degrading at the same. Making him feel like it's somehow his fault for not knowing or understanding their technology and culture when no one told or explained it to him in the three years he's been aware of his father's identity.

It's not Jordan's intention to make him feel this way, he knows that. His brother is explaining in the ways he can. Jonathan's just no good with this Kryptonian stuff, he’s been ‘human’ for too long.

“That’s.. Cool.” Squinting his eyes to combat the light, Jon glances back up to the Red Sun crystal. “How long have I been under it?”

Not cool. More terrifying to think about, actually.

As much as Jonathan trusts his father when it comes to Kryptonian biology, he couldn’t help the twinge of apprehension in his chest. It seems like Kryptonian weaknesses affect him and his brother despite their dna and if the Red Sun drains them of their powers, what can it do to hybrids? His body doesn’t work in all the same ways a full blooded Kryptonain’s would. What if it drains his human side’s.. he doesn't know the correct term, but whatever keeps you from getting sick.

Jordan shrugs, “Probably around forty five minutes. Your fire breath isn’t totally gone, just pretty weak.”

If his life was a comedy tv show, this is where the record scratch would be played. Apprehension drains from his body, leaving a strong feeling of alarm in its place, and Jonathan snaps his head towards his brother, staring at him with eyes wide as flying saucers.

“Fire breath?!” He shouts, making Jordan flinch at the sudden loud noise. “I thought we had ice breath?”

As crazy as the power itself sounds, at least it explains literally everything weird going on with him. Being overly warm almost twenty-four/seven makes sense now.

The hologram of his twin rubs the side of his neck, then sends him a pitying smile. “Me and dad do, but it looks like you got the opposite.”

“I- I-” Tripping over his words, he shakes his head in an effort to ground his racing thoughts and conceive a proper sentence. “How is this even possible?”

“Right now, uh, we don’t know.” Jordan said hesitantly, averting his gaze to the floor so as to not look his brother in the eyes. “Grandma’s still working on it.”

With heart pounding in his chest, Jon tilts his head down and firmly presses his palms against the sides of his forehead. “I was already scared about sneezing ice all over the living room! Now you’re telling me I could burn the house down if I cough!”

“That won’t happen. Don’t freak out.”

It’s a little too late for that.

“Is that why I’m here?” He raises a shaky hand to gesture to the crystal in the ceiling, “Under this- this-”

“Red Sun crystal.” Jordan fills in.

Jonathan waves his hands at the input, “Yeah, yeah, whatever!” Shaky arms are crossed tightly over his chest. “I was gonna hurt someone..”

How long has his family been in danger?– How long has Gar been in danger? How many normal, everyday moments were seconds away from becoming an arson case? Jordan got sick and sneezed ice all over the house when he was forming ice breath. What if he got sick too? Vomited lava and destroyed the second floor of the house.

“No, you’re here because your powers were hurting you.”

“Me? What do you mean me?” So his powers were making him sick?

“You fainted earlier.” His brother explains, “Grandma found out that your fire breath was making you too hot for your human side to handle. If you didn’t cool down you would’ve kept getting hotter and hotter until..”

Trailing off, Jordan quiets and presses his lips into a thin line, clearly thinking about what he was about to say or how to say it, and decides on forming the word “boom” with his mouth and making an explosion motion with his hands.

“Grandma said you were at risk of creating a mini solar flare.”

Oh.. Pain spiked in his stomach as it twisted into knots. Whatever a solar flare is, it does not sound good.

The dark to his twin's eyes brightens and the frown on his lips curves upwards. “But everything’s fine now!”

I’m in a giant-ass fish tank because my body was going to self-destruct!, is what Jonathan stopped himself from saying when he caught the first syllable leaving his tongue. A snarky response wasn’t appropriate, even if he’s scared.

“Dad will be here any moment now,” Jon couldn’t feel it, obviously, but appreciated Jordan walking over and resting his hologram hand on his shoulder. His twin chuckles softly. “He’ll be better at this ‘explaining Kryptonian stuff’ than me.”

“Yeah, probably..” Jon mumbled. “Where did dad go, anyway?”

Wouldn’t it have been a smarter game plan for his father to stay here and explain what happened rather than Jordan? Hell, even their grandma would know more– but she might not have been able to bring him familial comfort.

“He went to tell mom and Gar what happened and bring them here.”


If he’s being honest, Garfield didn’t expect his help at the community center to go as smoothly as it did. Most of the residents of San Francisco weren’t too kind and were quite loud about their opinions on him, especially after the whole Deathstroke and carnival tragedy. Even though he’s on a different earth, he can’t help the habit of wanting to duck out of people’s sight and blending into the crowd to disappear, which is a skill he’s rather good at thanks to sneaking around towns to steal stuff.. But that was years ago! He doesn’t do that anymore.

Upon entering the building, staying close to Lois’ side as she helped set up, he got a few curious glances thrown his way and people asking who he was, which is more than understandable. It all ended, the glances and questions, after Lois introduced him as “Jonathan’s friend from Metropolis” who’s staying with them while his parents are away on business. It's a good lie for right now. If he’s still here by the same time next year, the Kents will have to think of something else as an explanation.

Also, Gar’s not sure he and Jonathan could be called “friends” anymore. Pretty sure they crossed some kind of friends to “more than friends” line yesterday night, and thinks a “boy” got added in front of that “friend” after they agreed to go out.

After hours of handing out food and learning about some of the town’s residents through small talk, the evening came to an end; the sky once full of oranges and pinks being blanketed by a sheet of darkness. When dinner is finished and the groups attending exited out to their respective cars, Garfield transports the emptied and cleaned kitchenware they brought to the car’s backseat while Lois trails behind, locking the community center doors on her way out.

Setting down individual plastic containers and muffin tins, Gar winces at the spike of pain in his stomach. Swiftly straightening his posture, he places a hand over the affected area and breathes a quiet “ow.” It hurt for barely a second but felt like someone twisted his stomach into a knot in that second. Must have bent over at the wrong angle or something.

He’s gonna go with that and choose to ignore the fact that his body was purposefully designed to stretch and bend in ways inhumanly possible without harm. If it couldn’t, he wouldn’t be able to shapeshift.

“Lois, hi!”

He doesn’t know that voice.

Lowering his hand from his stomach area, shoving it and its twin into his coat pockets, Gar peeks around the car to put a face to the unfamiliar voice. A woman dressed in a mostly dark outfit with a faux fur-collared, trench-like coat and matching dark wavy hair advances over, one arm holding two wrapped gifts and the other greeting Lois with a hug.

“I’m so glad I caught you before you left!” The woman said once she released the embrace.

“Wow,” Lois breathed, a smile bright on her face. “It feels like it's been so long since I've seen you! How’s everything?”

He hears the woman chuckle softly.

“I know, and good. We're on our way to a wedding and since we had to pass through, I thought I should give you these.”

Eyes drift down to the gifts being handed to Lois.

“It’s late but Sarah wanted to get the boys something for their birthday.”

Sarah. Oh! That must be Sarah’s mother.

“That’s so sweet.” Lois cooed. “Tell her the boys say thank you.”

“I will.”

Cover being blown when Sarah’s mom glances over and catches sight of his rather lame investigation attempt, Gar gasps and forces himself to stay still instead of instinctively scurrying behind the car to hide like a prey animal retreating to its den.

“Let me guess,” Sarah’s mom hums in thought. “That’s the Garfield Sarah told me about.”

“Yeah.” Lois giggled, then waves for him to come over. “Gar, this is Lana Cushing.”

Keeping his hands in his pockets, Gar slowly steps around the car and moves towards the two women. Throat tightening with fear when Mrs. Cushing makes a comment about Sarah telling her about his green hair. Hoping green hair is all Sarah told her mother…

His intentions were to reveal his powers to the Kents only and no one else. Then the bonfire night happened, the protective instincts kicked in with so much intensity he barely had time to control what the animal was doing. Thankfully, he was able to grab the steering wheel before any physical damage had been done, even though he would have liked to knee that Timmy guy in the gut.

But shapeshifting into a grizzly bear and scaring crowds of teenagers was not a part of the ‘revealing powers’ plan. And Sarah finding out he’s actually metahuman definitely wasn’t in the plan either. The more people know what he is, the more danger he might be put in and if he’s in danger, the Kents could be too. A spotlight beaming onto him, showing him off to the world, would be the worst thing for everyone.

It’d attract the wrong kind of people, and he has the examining knife scars to prove it.

Standing next to Lois, Gar lowers his head slightly into the hood attached to his coat, awkwardness crawling up his spine when Mrs. Cushing's curious gaze lands on him.

“He’s from Metropolis too?” Lana asks, glancing at Lois.

Lois nods, “Yup. Jonathan’s friend.”

Returning her focus to Gar, Lana smiles. “Were you guys on the same football team?”

“Nope, I actually suck at sports. We met at..”

Racking his brain for a plausible explanation, he bites his lower lip and sucks on his teeth. He might not have had a regular childhood but has watched a ton of tv, and in those shows (and movies) the important kid protagonists either met at school or-

“Camp! Yeah! When we were, like, twelve.”

The woman blinks, “Wow, so you guys have been friends for a while. Sarah said you two are close.” Tilting her head slightly, she continues to question, much to Garfield’s discomfort. “How did you meet?”

Fuck! He's not good at making stuff up on the spot. He's an overthinker! The camp answer already took a suspicious amount of time to come up with.

“Uh, I..” Gar swallows, then scratches the side of his face out of habit. “Fell on him.”

Technically a half truth. He fell in front of him.

Lana giggles, “You fell on him?”

After clearing his throat, he explains. “It was more of an outdoorsy camp, ya know? like at a lake, and I remember some kid pushed me off of the playground and Jon was under me soo..”

Lois must have noticed he was beginning to nervously ramble on because she places a hand on his shoulder and inputs herself into the conversation. Exhaling a quiet breath of relief, he couldn’t be anymore grateful for the cut in. Sooner or later, if she let him keep talking, something stupid was guaranteed to leave his mouth.

“When I came to pick Jonathan up, he ran over to me holding Gar's hand and told me he made a friend.”

Silence fills the air for a moment. Gar tilts his head and looks at Lois; wondering why she went quiet. Eyebrows raise when he sees the expression on her face has softened, hazel eyes shining and lips pressed into a genuine smile rather than forcing a fake one to convince Lana.

“It was so sweet. I don't think I've ever seen Jon happier.”

Cheeks flushing pink, a half smile tugs at the side of his lips. He’s made me the happiest I’ve ever been too.

The warmth that floods throughout his body when arms pull him into a hug, the way his legs feel like a wobbly bowl of jelly when hands are interlocked, how he could get lost in the cold but comforting blue of his eyes. He could have never imagined someone’s.. Everything! Could be so special. He’s seen many smiles, heard many laughs, throughout life but none even compare to Jon’s. It’s like a mystical being put a spell on both to be utterly irresistible– or he’s just really new to this crush thing. Probably the second one.

Not having anything to add to the adults’ quick catch up discussion, he stays at Lois’ side and kicks at the pavement with the heel of his shoe. The two talking about things he had no attachment to or knowledge of, besides Mrs. Cushing becoming mayor; he does know that.

His attention only returns to Sarah’s mother when she mentions Jonathan’s past injury, asking how the sunnier brother has been doing. In which Lois replied with a breathy “fine” and added in a more cheerful tone “better now than even a few months ago”. It’s not his place to ask about details, he knows what he’s supposed to and learning more will be up to the person deciding to tell him, but he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t caught himself wondering what exactly happened and if he’ll ever know.

Huh. Now that he’s thinking about Jonathan, it’s strange he hasn’t received a text from him yet, especially since they have plans. His phone isn’t on silent or vibrate so missing a text wouldn’t be an option.

Fishing his phone out of his back pocket and clicking it to life, his frown deepens when he sees no new messages displayed over the lockscreen photo he took at Bear Creek Falls.

A heaviness sets in his chest.

Jon should be at home by now, right?

Brought out of his trance by Lana saying her goodbyes, he puts on a smile and waves with one hand while the other puts his phone back in his pocket. He doesn’t need to obsess over a unsent text message on the drive back home, it wouldn’t do him any good. And it wouldn’t do Lois good, she doesn’t need to worry.

After Mrs. Cushing returns to wherever she parked her car, the silence of the empty parking lot doesn’t stay long, Lois begins to laugh, making Garfield swift his attention onto her and brows to furrow in confusion. Was something funny said and he didn’t hear it?

Looking up at the shapeshifter, the smile on Lois’ face grows. “You fell on Jonathan?”

He catches her laughter, “I panicked, okay?” For a person who had to lie his way out of more situations than he could count, that one was awful and honestly, embarrassing. The Chief never would have believed it. “I’m not good at making up stuff so quickly.”

“I’ll remember that.” Lois notes, opening the driver side door.

Reaching for the passenger door to climb inside is put on pause when Lois speaks again, the bubbly tone to her voice gone and replaced by a hint of concern mixed with confusion.

“Clark?”

Lack of text message and the pulse racing anxiety it brought mere seconds ago boomerangs and crashes into the shapeshifter. The deep frown finding home on Clark’s face, his blue eyes foggy with exhaustion instead of usual brightness, and hands shoved into his coat pockets, told Gar all he needed to know. Something is wrong.

“We gotta go to the Fortress. It’s about Jonathan.”


A loud boom echoes as the Man of Steel lands at the Fortress entrance. Releasing the two passengers from his protective hold, the man frowns as he watches Garfield clumsily stumble forwards and sway to the side, resembling a person trying to find balance on a rocking boat.

“Are you alright?” Lois voices the concern before Clark.

The couple shares a glance, both thinking the same thing, but decide to stay where they stood and give the boy a respectful amount of space while he slid down the crystal wall and attempted to calm himself.

“Give- give me a second.” Gar said through heavy breaths, then swallowed hard as fingers attached to shaking hands are dug into his scalp and palms pressed against his eyes. “I think I left my internal organs somewhere over the ocean.”

Once the boy finds somewhat of a composure, Clark kneels down closer to his level and rests a hand on his shaking shoulder. Feeling guilt pang in his chest. Jonathan and Jordan were born to move at fast speeds, it never bothered them, but Garfield wasn't. Even Lois had a hard time after her first super speed trip.

Turning his focus to his wife, who he could tell was rather antsy to unite with their son, Clark sends her a reassuring smile and flaps his hand.

“Go see Jonathan, my mother will lead you to his room. I’ll stay with Gar until his land-legs catch up.”

Lois' gaze flickers to Gar one more time before nodding and disappearing down the hall.

“This looks so stupid.” Jonathan slips a finger under the V-neck collar of the plain gray shirt and tugged against it. “I feel like a dentist’s assistant.”

“Then, next time, don’t complain about being cold.” Jordan chuckles lightly, grabbing his twin’s shoulder and giving it a playful shake. “Dad will probably get you some of your clothes, you won’t look like a vet-tech for long.”

Jon tilts his head back and breathes an elongated sigh, shoulders deflating. “Can he get me my bed too while he's at it?”

If he’s gonna have to sleep here, he can not sleep on that crystal. His lower back already hurts thinking about it. His father might not feel pain, but he sure does.

“Jonathan!”

Snapping his head up, he points his eyes in the direction of the voice, seeing his mother fast approaching. Instinctively wincing when his mother stepped over the ‘personal space’ line and placed her hands on his face, her eyes - round with worry - staring deeply into his.

“Are you okay?” Before he could answer, she lowered her hands from his face to his shoulders and eyed him for any sign of damage. “Does anything hurt?”

Jon smiles, “I’m good.”

Physically he doesn’t hurt, but seeing his family concerned for him, especially to this degree, might as well cause emotional harm. Their fear is so strong, he swears he could feel it himself.

“Trust me, he is. He’s been complaining about his clothes.” Jordan adds. “Can’t get more regular Jon than that.”

Lips curve upwards as Lois sounds a relieved laugh and Jon exchanges a glance with Jordan, thankful for his twin’s swift chime in to change the mood. The fear radiating off of his mother begins to die down, allowing his nerves to fade away in a wave of calm.

“True.” She agrees, grabbing the uneven sleeves hiked up at Jon’s elbows and pulls them down to his wrists. “Major red flag if he’s not worrying about his shirt matching the second colored stripe on his socks.”

Jonathan playfully rolls eyes at the tease. Opening his mouth to respond, the words die in his mouth before they're spoken, being replaced by another thought shoving its way into his brain.

A thought more important to him than a joke.

“Wait, where’s Gar? Jordan said dad was getting both of you?”

“He’s here.” Lois confirms, then casts a glance over her shoulder. “But he didn’t handle the super speed so well. Your father is with him.”

Jonathan’s heart clenches in his chest. “Is he okay? Where’s he at?”

Gazing over his mother’s shoulder, he steps around her and begins to advance down the hall; only to have a hand grab his forearm, keeping him from progressing forward.

“Sorry, Romeo, you gotta get back to your room.” Jordan says, tugging against his arm. “Grandma’s orders.”

Frowning, he mumbles. “Right.”

Annoyance twinges in his chest, thinking about the fact he's being bound to a room to be observed and fretted over again like a sick animal who couldn't survive without constant care.

His parents recently stopped holding his hand through everything and now, this incident is gonna put him back at square one.

Turning his focus to his mother once more, his expression softens. “Whenever he’s okay, can I talk to him?”

The situation he's in is annoying, yes, but not annoying enough for him to prioritize being angry over Garfield.

Lois breathes a light sigh, then nods. “I'll have your father bring him.”

/

It could’ve been seen as a tad overly dramatic, the way Jonathan and Garfield crashed into each other and wrapped arms around in a tight embrace as if Jon had been a sailor away for years and finally returned. By the look he caught on Jordan’s face, a faint grin and an eye roll, it seemed like he agreed that such a reaction is over the top.

When the hug releases, Jonathan marches over to his twin and begins to push him towards the open doorway, forcing him to exit the room. His brother hisses a protest, in which Jon replied to with a simple “give me some privacy”. Jordan quiets the arguing after that, only adding a teasing reminder about their parents being in the Fortress as he stepped out into the hall.

The moment the door slides closed and absorbs into the wall, making it look like a door never existed at all, a light quickly came to life and flooded the room with its red glow.

“Whoa.” Gar breathed, observing the red crystal above. “What’s that?”

“Some Red Sun thing. It depowers me.” Jon explains.

“Is it from Krypton?”

“Hm,” He hummed in thought. “I didn’t ask.”

It could be or his dad took samples of it from another planet he visited. Mars is red, it could be from there.

Beside him, Garfield wanders over to the sole object of resting in the room and leans back against it, pressing his palms against the surface to keep balance.

Jonathan frowns, seeing Gar's face scrunch in discomfort as he shakes his head, then rapidly blink his eyes to help focus on one area when his face stretches back to normal.

“Are you okay?” The crystal isn't affecting him, is it?

“Yeah, sorry,” Gar flashes a smile, raising a hand to rub his temple. “I'm seeing double of you right now.”

A playful smirk appears on Jonathan’s lips for a heartbeat. Moving towards his boyfriend and halting in front of him, he tries to keep a straight face when the intrigued sparkle in Gar’s eyes turns to an expression of confusion as he cups his cheeks and leans in closer until their faces almost touch.

“Is there one of me now?”

Cheeks now colored pink, the smile returns and Gar replies after an intended pause. “No.”

“Dammit.” Jon sighs in mock defeat. Leaning back, he shrugs and the previous smirk reappears on his face. “Well, my mom always said ‘kiss it to make it better’ soo..”

The smirk turns into a semi-bashful smile as he clears his throat and adds. “If you don’t mind me kissing you, that is.”

Blinking sparkly eyes, the pink in his cheeks spreads to the tips of his ears. He squeaks out a simple “yes” before giving his head a shake and rewording his answer, less starstruck this time.

“I- uh, I mean, yes, you can kiss me. Not ‘yes’ I mind.”

Jon chuckles softly. “Okay.”

Pressing his lips to the shapeshifter’s cheek, his heart felt like it was doing somersaults, pulse speeding with a rush of adrenaline and pride making his body feel airy for a second; ejoying the sound of his boyfriend's purr becoming louder the longer the kiss draws out.

“Jon-El.”

Inhaling a sharp gasp, Jonathan snaps his head away from Gar and spins around to face the speaker with eyes stretched wide and face burning red.

Standing in front of him, the hologram woman tilts her head at the reaction.

Jonathan exhales a heavy sigh, untensing his shoulders, and releases the tight feeling in his chest with laughter, sounding more nervous and relieved than joyful.

“You got real bad timing, grandma.” He smiles.

Thank god it wasn’t either of his parents.

Lara bows her head. “My apologies, Jon-El.”

“It’s Jon.”

Gar chimes in with a gasp. “Wait, is your real name Jon-El?”

Glancing over to Gar, he shrugs. “It might be?”

He’s already said it a billion times now, but he’s not good with kryptonian stuff.

And Jon-El as a name is just.. strange. Sounds like he should have a bad attitude and wear too much leather because he thinks he’s hot shit, and maybe wear some eyeliner, too.

Lara continues with her report. “I came to inform you that your abilities have been stabilized. You are able to leave your room without the danger of a sudden burst of power.”

“Great!” Jon pipes. “I can go home!”

“Not yet, I’m afraid.”

The beam on his face drops to a frown. “Why not?”

“Your powers will stay dormant as long as you aren’t affected by the sun.” Lara explains. “Returning home would be a danger to yourself and the others around you. It’s safest if you stay here until your father can teach you to properly use and control your abilities.”

He knew this was gonna happen. It always happens. So, why does an outcome that was more than expected make him feel sick? His stomach is already churning and twisting into knots at the reality.

Maybe, because, deep down, he stupidly had hope. Hope that this time would end differently, that he could go home. Then stood here, like an idiot, watching what piece of hope he had left be squashed right in front of him.

A hand rests on Jonathan’s shoulder, making him shift his gaze to the toucher. A small smile tugs at the side of his mouth, eyes gaining a tiny twinkle, looking at the only person able to shine a light in the darkness.

“I’ll stay here with you.” Gar purred.

He stays quiet for a heartbeat before responding. “Thanks.”

When Jon turns his focus back to his grandmother to ask how long he’d be staying, the hologram had disappeared; likely to tell his parents about the decision.

Stepping towards the crystal bed, he plants himself on the edge and sighs, tilting his head down and running a hand through his hair.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Garfield take a seat at his side and points a sympathetic gaze at him, followed by a deep frown curving his lips.

“I don’t know much about.. Everything going on.. But I wanna help. What’s wrong?”

Lifting his head, he flashes Gar a simple smile, hoping what tiny bit of reassurance behind it will be enough. “It’s fine. It’s just.. Complicated.”

And he doesn’t want to think about it. It won’t do him any good to dwell on a fact he’s unable to change or control. Though, the stomach aching fear accompanied by the rapidly growing uncomfortableness crawling up his spine would love it if he made a big deal until he would be sent home, even knowing his grandmother is making the correct decision by keeping him here.

Not being in control, having to sit and do nothing about it, is something he always had a hard time dealing with. It’s scary and he doesn’t like being scared.

“Okay.” Gar whispers.

Even in the less than desirable situation, a genuine smile appears on the teenager’s face as his boyfriend leans against him and rests the side of his face on his shoulder, purring so loud Jon could practically feel the vibration travelling down his arm.

A few silent minutes pass by, the two boys interlocking their hands, enjoying the comfort of familiar company, until it's broken by Garfield grumbling softly like something suddenly became a bother to him.

Opening his eyes, Jon looks down at his boyfriend and chuckles. “What?”

Gaze following the finger pointed at the floor, he didn't know what he was expecting to see since the most interesting thing he saw today was a few fish, but a pod of orca whales sure wasn’t it.

“AH!- Shit!”

Jonathan swiftly pulls his legs up, standing on top of the bed to distance himself from the very large, cookie colored whales below, as if the floor made of glass able to withstand Kryptonian abilities wouldn't be strong enough to handle the orcas lightly brushing against it.

Face flushes a bright red when Gar begins to laugh at the ridiculous - but amusing - sight above him. He must look stupid right now, this is the second time he’s been spooked by an animal that had no chance of causing him harm.

“If I stay here, I can’t promise random marine animals won’t stop by to say hi.” Gar said. “Wherever I go, animals follow.”

And Jonathan thought relocating a poisonous Copperhead and talking to birds was the most impressive thing Gar could do with his powers. Besides the shapeshifting, of course.

Jon sends his boyfriend an embarrassed grin. “And that's cool, but how about something smaller next. Like a seal?”

Gar matches the grin, playfulness behind his. “I could make that happen.”


Plopping the dull green duffle bag down on the bed-table thing and unzipping the teeth, it’s amazing how much joy he gets from something as normal as pulling out handfuls of his regular clothes. Anything in his bag would be more comfortable to wear than what he’s currently dressed in, the fabric of the collar keeps irritating his neck and red marks on his neck are the last thing he needs, unless he wants his mother to ban him from ever leaving his bedroom.

With Jonathan having to temporarily live at the Fortress, his father sped back home to fill a duffle bag full of necessaries for Jon’s stay. Clothes, toothbrush and deodorant, medication, food and drinks, towels (because apparently there’s a shower here somewhere), and a few tiny important pieces of jewelry in a plastic lunch bag. His favorite glow in the dark ear gauges and black rings for the tops of his ears. He knows his father wouldn’t have remembered those so he’s going to thank Jordan.

The odds of his ears closing after a few days is probably low but not wearing them feels wrong and he’s not re-piercing his ears, since the first time was him with an ice pack and a needle in their upstairs bathroom and a locked door. Now thinking back on it makes him cringe. Being fifteen was such a weird and confusing time.

Along with the smaller essentials, his dad also brought his pillow and blanket to use along on with the air mattress. While Jonathan would’ve preferred his actual bed, he understands why his parents didn’t want to move his entire room to a place he’ll be for a week at most. No complaining here.

Changing into his clothes and inserting his “ear decorations” as Jordan would call them, Jon falls down onto the air mattress with a tired groan. Once situated under the covers, he attempts the impossible feat of attempting to find a phone signal so he could at least watch videos to pass the time. It’s a stupid attempt though, it’s not gonna work, they’re out in the middle of the sea.

He doesn’t know why he asked for his phone, it could’ve been left at home, there’s nothing embarrassing saved to it he doesn’t want his parents to know about. That’s what the secret journal hidden under his bed is for, he’d die if they found and read it.

What? Do you think he’s actually gonna talk to his parents about embarrassing personal stuff? Absolutely not.

Setting his phone to the side, he stares up at the ceiling for a few seconds before groaning.

“This is the worst hotel I’ve ever stayed in.” Rolling onto his side, facing the wall, he points an accusatory finger at his reflection. “And it’s all your fault. You suck.”

Grumbling angrily, Jon flops over to his other side and pulls the blanket up to cover his face.

Jordan and Gar are gone, his dad flew them somewhere and joined in on getting the dinner they missed, which leaves him here with–

The noise of the door sliding open echoes throughout the room, followed by a soft knock on the wall.

His mother’s voice comes next. “Jonathan?”

Huffing through his nose, he fights the urge to grab the pillow and place it over his head, a less harsh way of asking her to leave him alone than flat out saying it. Talking about whatever she had planned isn’t something he’s ready to do or prepared for.

However, he pushes the feeling away and sits up. “Yeah?”

Entering the room, the tender look to his mother’s eyes and lips pressing into an empathic smile finding home on her face makes Jon frown in guilt for the negative thoughts.

Sitting in the middle of the mattress, she reaches for Jon’s forearm to rub as a comfort attempt and asks. “Are you settling in fine?”

Jon shrugs, “As good as I can.”

“Good.” Lois nods. “I came to talk to you about something, then I’ll let you go back to bed, okay?”

Honestly, he doesn’t know which is more irritating: the fact that his mother can never just talk to him without having a specific reason to, or that she’s speaking to him like he’s a little kid.

Jon’s already weak smile twitches, threatening to drop into frown. “Okay.”

Lois shifts slightly. “Me and your father discussed it, we don’t want you to be here alone and since we can’t all be here with you,-”

The teenager’s heart begins to lift in anticipation.

“- we decided it’d be best if Gar stayed here.”

Yes! Is he living in an alternate universe because he swears he heard his mother of all people agree to letting the boy he likes stay with him with no overwhelming supervision. Maybe he was wrong and she does trust him? Or his dad promised to use super hearing to check in every twenty minutes, that’s a possibility. Still! A win for Jonny-Boy!

But.

.. Or maybe not a win.

His mother’s expression hardens, eyes narrowing, and creating a look that makes Jon wince out of habit. He hates her ‘interrogation’ face, makes him want to admit he’s guilty even though he didn’t do anything wrong just so she’ll stop looking at him.

“I need to know I can trust you.”

“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to do!” Jonathan exclaims, throwing his hands up for emphasis.

Actually, he does but wants confirmation before he can proceed to protest even harder. This whole topic of conversation is getting tiring at least and infuriating at most. Do they truly think he’s that desperate? and if they do, how insulting and kind of gross. Where did it come from, anyway?

He didn’t see or hear his parents jumping to these conclusions when Sarah stayed with Jordan, they let his brother go off alone with his girlfriend and said nothing about it. What’s the difference between him and Jordan?

To his surprise, his mother didn’t react to the volume raise, just shook her head. “I’m not expecting you to do anything.”

Jonathan scoffs in disbelief, “Well, it sure seems like you do.”

Lois runs a quick hand through her hair and exhales a deep sigh. “Jonathan, It’s complicated.”

“No, it really isn’t.” Jon argued, ignoring the angry tears beginning to prick at the sides of his eyes. “It’s a little obvious you expect me to hook up with the first guy who shows interest in me.”

Makes him raise an imaginary eyebrow, wondering if that’s the reason behind his parents not causing an uproar about Jordan being alone with Sarah. Best put the question in his back pocket for now.

“Jonathan, that’s not the issue.” Lois combats quickly. “It’s a part, yes, but not the whole thing.”

“Then what is it?” He demands. “If I’m the reason this issue exists, then I should know what it is!”

“I don’t want you to get hurt again!”

Taken aback by the instant response, Jonathan winces, eyes stretching wide and mouth snaps shut. A strong pang of regret stabbing him in the chest like a dagger.

“You keep getting hurt,” Lois' voice cracks. “And I can’t do anything about it.”

Jonathan opens his mouth to squeak out an apology for raising his voice and pressing on about the topic but is unable due to her continuing on.

“I thought I’d be able to keep you safe because you were..”

She trails off and Jon’s mind fills in the blank. Powerless, like her. They were ‘extraordinary humans’ together in a super family, and then the sun claimed him as it claimed his father and brother.

With a shaky sigh, Lois sends her son a smile; warm with memories he couldn’t see nor remember. “But you were always so much like your father, even before all of this, and that's such a wonderful, amazing thing.”

Jonathan's lips press into a matching smile at the feeling of his mother's gentle touch, brushing her thumb against his cheek. While his father is better at verbal comfort, he'll find himself rushing to his mom's arms when he needs physical comfort.

She breathes a weak laugh. “I should’ve known keeping you out of danger would be impossible.”

Being like his dad means danger is in his dna. There’s nothing he could do about it, it comes with being an alien amongst mankind.

“After what happened, I was scared-” She admits, hands clasped over her lap fiddle and rub together anxiously. “-I still am, and I tried to keep you safe in the ways I can, but I shouldn’t have held onto you so tight. My fear isn’t an excuse to keep you from living your life.” Round, glossy eyes are lifted from her lap and point at him. “I’m so sorry, Jonathan, I didn’t mean to make you feel this way.. I hope you can forgive me.”

Jonathan nods slowly, “I do.” He whispers, vision blurring with forming tears. “Thanks for being honest with me.”

He couldn’t be mad at her, if he was in her place he’d probably do the same thing. His father is better at hiding his fear for obvious reasons but Jon sees him freeze up and overreact to things at times. His parents are still being affected, just like he is, they only react and process in different ways.

Two years ago or not, what happened to him wasn’t an ‘oops, I fell off of my bike and hurt my knee’. No. He almost died, and not in the murder van way either, his family had to go through tortuous hours of ‘will he, won’t he’ about him not making it to the next day. There was no super speed to safety that time, just waiting.

So, he can't blame them for holding him closer than they used to, and definitely doesn't resent them for it. Did greatly appreciate the honesty, though.

His mother takes a breath of relief, then opens her arms; inviting him in for a hug. "C'mere."

Accepting the invitation, he melts into the arms wrapped securely around him, soaking in all the love radiating from it like a dehydrated sponge. Fond memories of stormy summers flooding into his mind, where his mother would hold him close and tell him humorous stories to wait out and distract him from the thunderstorm.

“You mean so much to me, sweetie.” She tightens her side of the embrace. “I don’t ever want to imagine a world without you in it. You’re so special.”

After a heartbeat of hesitation, his mother releases from the hug to gaze up at him and raises her hands to cradle his face, making the teenager smile. The melancholy look on his mom’s face disappears, eyes shining with the fiery attitude she’s known for, matching the smirk tugging at her lips.

“And going to be the best darn man this world has ever seen, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Promise?”

Jon chuckles genuinely after what felt like forever. “I promise.”

“Good.” She pauses, silently debating for a moment before speaking again. “If you’re tired, I’ll let you sleep and save it for another day, but I do owe you another explanation.”

Eyelids are feeling droopy with the threat of sleep, the excitement of the day finally catching up to him, his interest is piqued however. His mom explained one half, there's still another. The half with Gar in it and how he ties into this.

“I’m fine, go on.”

“Okay. When I was a little older than you, I dated this guy. I thought he was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Jonathan stayed quiet, blinking curiously, as his mom's story went on.

“I'm gonna spare you all the boring details, but because of aunt Lucy, I wasn't doing too well so I made dumb decisions. You can guess what one of those decisions were, and the relationship didn't work out.”

A heaviness sets deep in the teenager’s chest, then swiftly travels to his head, making it ache with a specific type of pressure he couldn’t find a way to describe. He swallows hard, ignoring the dull pain and listens to the remaining story. The emotions behind his mom’s words were like an intense odor, clinging to every inch of him, refusing to let go and overwhelming his senses no matter what he did to repel.

Having to force himself not to flinch when she reaches out to rub his upper arm. Despite the fabric between her skin and his, the touch was like being jabbed by thousands of cactus needles, sending an uncomfortable amount of a prickly sensation throughout his body.

It’s like every nerve ending’s sensitivity is set at max and the littlest contact makes him want to jump through the roof.

Eventually, he regains his ability to focus by putting his attention solely onto his mother, taking notes of every little detail of her facial expressions and movements.

“I don’t want that to be you.” Her tone was delicate with care, but didn’t hide the seriousness of the situation she had been speaking about, either. “I don’t want you to ever feel the way I did.”

The sensitivity and pressure in his brain disappears as quickly as it came, then all of a sudden he’s exhausted. Each and every bone felt brittle and weak, it’d be a struggle to lift his arms or move at this moment. His entire body feels like it’s been hung and wrung, drained of the energy he previously had.

Jon's frown deepens, “I understand. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

To him, words sounded like they were leaving his mouth at a pace slower than a snail, but the lack of change to his mom’s face tells him it’s all in his head.

“Well, it led me to Metropolis, so. You already know that story, though.”

Jonathan hums in agreement.

The hum must have been a red flag of some kind (or the exhaustion finally affected his appearance) because his mom gave him a questioning look.

“Are you okay, honey?”

“Yeah,” He breathes, then rubs his index finger and thumb between his eyes. “I’m really tired now for some reason.”

Not a lie, just the understatement of the century. If he’d been standing instead, he probably would have fallen to the ground like a sack of potatoes by now.

“You’ve been through a lot today, I think it's time I let you get some sleep.” She said, softly.

After giving Jonathan’s blonde curls a ruffle, Lois leans forward and places a kiss to the top of his forehead, then gets to her feet.

“Before I go, I want you to know that you never have to feel scared or awkward talking to me or your father.”

As thankful as Jonathan is for the open conversation and care, he doesn’t want his mom to be here when he passes out. With exhaustion comes lightheadedness and he's beginning to see spotty black creeping along the sides of his eyes.

“Feelings, especially romantic, are confusing and complicated. We want to help you understand them.”

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Jon nods again as it's the only action he could pull off right now.

With exchanged 'I love you's, his mother finally exits the room.

Once the door sealed shut, Jonathan falls back onto the mattress and closes his eyes, expecting to fall asleep the moment his head hits the bed. Except he doesn't, by the time he's laying down, the exhaustion is non-existent and he's wide awake.

Notes:

Next chapter:
With his father to supervise, Jonathan tests out his new powers and learns a few new things about himself. Gar and Jordan investigate strange bumps and sounds coming from the bottom of the Fortress

Chapter 18: The Fortress (part 3)

Summary:

With his father to supervise, Jonathan tests out his new powers and learns a few new things about himself. Gar and Jordan investigate strange bumps and sounds coming from the bottom of the Fortress.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Heavy breathing broke the silence of the room. Desperate and sharp, like someone breaching the water’s surface, burning lungs craving the air above.

A line of doors, left and right, that led to nowhere becoming nothing but a blur in the corner of his eyes as Jonathan sped through the darkness, down a vacant, white hallway; hauntingly illuminated by the red glow of the exit sign at the end of the hall. His saving grace from the monstrous cluster of shadow crawling on his trail. He didn't dare glance over his shoulder and didn't need to, he could sense its sinister presence.

A whimper slips through his lips next, a temporary pause from the breathing before it returns; each breath growing more frantic, matching every thump of his racing heart.

Slamming shoulder first into the exit door, hoping the sudden force would bust the hinges and free him, he backs up when the attempt fails and kicks near the doorknob. Sounding from behind him, familiar laughter, the noises of mean-spirited amusement directed at his misfortune. He pleads, cries, to be let out as the laughing swiftly progresses closer.

A thin sweat line appears on his forehead, brows furrowing together and face scrunching in distress. Fingers curl into the blanket, nails digging into his palms through the fleece fabric. His jaw sets and a weak “help” speaks through gritted teeth.

Tears streamed down his face, continuing to cry for his freedom. Hands tightly grab onto the doorknob, twisting the metal knob in both directions in attempts to open the last chance he had of escape. The darkness crawling along the hall growing stronger, louder, dangerously close to absorbing him like it absorbs everything else. But he’s so close, safety.. It’s right in front of him.

Along his outstretched arm, inky black coils around like a slithering snake and clamps down, jerking his arm away from the knob. Shouting, Jonathan releases his opposite hand and grabs onto the captured arm tugging him towards the mass of dark, a feeble effort of recusing the arm already being taken over by shadow. Heart feeling like it’s about to break out his chest and fear-induced vomit rising in his throat, the teenager screams a final, defeated “no” as the shadows, roaring with laughter colored with malice, swallow him alive.

With a deep inhale, Jonathan scrambles up to a sitting position, hands instinctively feeling around the air mattress under him for something to grab and hold tight against his chest for security as if he was a scared kid. Body kicked into its fight or flight response, panic created adrenaline pumping through his veins, making the rings of ice blue glow a warm orange.

Heart pounding in his burning chest, the teenager’s gaze frantically darts around the room encased in a blanket of darkness. Twisting to the side, Jon scoots back until his back meets a smooth surface. Through his sweater, he could feel the cold touch of the wall, infesting his arms with goosebumps.

A simple hoot grounded his racing thoughts for a moment, shifting focus to where the noise came from. In the middle of the room, he could make out a table of some kind with a large bird-like shape perched on it, two feathers sticking up on the top of its head, mimicking ears.

Quieting his breathing, Jonathan stares wide eyed at the silhouette. Swallowing the hard lump of fear formed in his throat, he opens his mouth to squeak out a cautious but curious hello but is stopped before he could do so due to the bird unexpectedly snapping its head in his direction. He jumps slightly when its bright green eyes burn into him, round as the full moon with pupils dilated.

Finding himself unable to tear his gaze away from the shape, paralyzed where he sat, he watches the owl tilt his head and stretch its wings out, giving them a couple warm up flaps in preparation for flight.

The bird hoots again before launching into the air, wings flapping silently as it flies over to Jonathan and lands on the top of his thigh; blinking up at him with its bright eyes. Jon winces at the talons poking into his skin though his pajama pants.

It wasn't until the sounds of the owl’s body taking a new shape entered his ears and noticing the salty taste coating his tongue with every breath did the memory fog left over from his nightmare begin to clear. The unknown room became a familiar room located in his father’s Fortress and the previous owl (now cat) made the fast pace to his heart slow to a relatively normal speed.

Padding over to Jonathan’s side, Gar purred loudly and rubbed his cheek against his arm.

“Thanks.” Jon breathed.

Gar emits a noise of worry as he sticks close at Jon’s hip, lowering to his stomach to lie down and tucks his front paws under his chest, curling his tail along his side.

Moving his arm from under the feline, he takes a breath and begins to run his hand from the cat’s head to the bottom of his neck; finding the action of petting soft, green fur rather comforting.

At least he’s not alone.

“Just a stupid nightmare.” Jonathan reassures, a hinted smile on his lips. “I’m fine.”

A terrifying nightmare, but a nightmare nonetheless. It’s not real, just a manifestation of all his unspoken thoughts haunting him. It wouldn’t be the first time.. He only wished it didn’t hit so close to home.

That image will be burned into his brain for a while. Not the cluster of shadows, but that exit sign. That damn exit sign. Mocking him, laughing in his face.


“Here you go.”

Gar purrs as he placed the cereal filled paper bowl in front of Jonathan, who was sat at the large crystal table and stared at the glassy surface with an oddly numb expression that doesn’t find home on his face often.

Concern twinges inside the shapeshifter’s chest, but decides to keep it to himself when Jonathan reacts by sending him a warm smile, the coldness to his eyes melting away; brightening up with the usual sparkle.

“Thank you, but I could have gotten it myself.” He ends with a playful smirk.

Gar scoffs, “Yeah, well, the dark bags under your eyes and the ‘lost in thought’ look told me otherwise.”

Jonathan huffs a mini laugh, presumably in agreement.

Taking a seat across from his boyfriend, Gar plants himself on the bar stool shaped crystal and sets the second bowl of cereal in hand down.

Spinning the spoon around the small bowl, a small smile stretches his lips, listening to the plastic utensil scratch against the bowl’s paper walls. Grateful for Clark zooming home to grab regular house-hold items, he can’t imagine eating cinnamon cereal in a crystal bowl with a crystal spoon would be desirable.

Sitting on an icy block of crystal isn’t very desirable nor is it comfortable. He’s sure the backs of his thighs will be iced numb before breakfast is over, they’re starting to burn with a chill now. Really should have dressed warmer than pajama pants, or at least worn flannel pajama pants.

Brows furrowed together in thought.

Clark told him Jon had fire breath and the ability had been heating him up, he wonders if Jon can feel the cold at all. The blonde teenager doesn’t seem to be affected by the temperature.

“What’s going on in your head?”

Brought out of his thoughts by his boyfriend’s muffled question, his mouth occupied by food as he spoke, likely curious why Gar went from strangely smiling at a bowl to furrowed brows.

Gar lifts his gaze to Jonathan, “I could ask you the same thing.”

And he’s not going to ask, it’d be pointless. By now, he’s learned Jonathan doesn’t exactly open up easily or speak about his more personal feelings. He wishes he could deny the slight frustration he’s felt when trying to comfort his boyfriend, suggesting he talk, but gets almost immediately shut down and changes the discussion.

Though getting frustrated might be a tad hypocritical, Garfield isn’t exactly an open book either. It took him weeks to accept even the simplest of affection as being genuine instead of pity. His brain still falls back into bad habits when unpleasant memories are resurfaced. Wanting to lock himself from everyone, refuse any and all help thrown his way, and accept his fate: sitting alone, rotting away, in his room while his mind keeps him trapped in an endless cycle of the worst memories of his life playing on repeat.

Frowning, his heart aches at the possibility of Jonathan feeling the same way, having the same urges, when a reminder of a bad time rears its ugly head.

“Not much, the usual.” Jon replies with a shrug.

This is gonna be a joke, Gar knows it will be, but he tilts his head in fake confusion anyway. “Which is?”

Jonathan clasps his hands together and leans forward against the table, supporting his body with his elbows, and sets his chin between his entangled fingers, smirk on his lips and eyebrows raised.

“Just, how cute my boyfriend is.”

Releasing the spoon from his hand, dropping into the milk, Gar freezes where he sat. Face flushing red and eyes stretched wide. Lips curving into a bashful grin, the shapeshifter tries to form a coherent response, tripping over his words instead.

“I- I” Smile staying stuck to his face, Gar lowers his gaze at the table’s surface and shakes his head. “You- you need more sleep.”

“I got enough.” Jon said, then flickers his gaze up to something above Gar’s head. “But, If I were you, I'd wear orange in the woods.”

Returning his focus to Jon, he raises an eyebrow at the switch in topic; not knowing what his boyfriend was alluding to, until he becomes aware of the unusual weight on his head, making it tilt to the side.

He already had an idea of what’s causing the pressure against his skull, but lifts a hand to inspect for confirmation. Solid, hand running along the semi-fuzzy surface, fingertips tracing the sharp points jutting out from the larger, thicker bone.

Growling in exasperation, grabbing the base of the bone, Gar begins to tug against the antler in an effort to make the weapon stuck atop his head shift away.

“Gods! This never used to happen so much!”

He’s starting to lose count of how many times his powers reacted by making a random body part shapeshift. Being in control of his powers, and what they want to do, at all times is crucial. How easily they’re surprising him as of recently is becoming a concern.

Gesturing to Gar with the spoon he held, Jon guessed out loud. “I might not have, like, that much shapeshifter knowledge or whatever, but I’m gonna go with it’s reacting to your feelings.”

“Yeah, probably..” Gar sighs in defeat, cheeks remaining light red, and lets go of the antler. It’ll disappear on its own. “It’s embarrassing.”

And now my neck hurts.

“Could be worse.” Jonathan mumbles, “I’d prefer deer antlers, than like.. burning the house down.”

The room’s door opened, ending the discussion and grabbing both boys’ attention, two sets of eyes directed at the man stepping inside with a wave and his natural cheerful smile on his face.

“Morning, boys!”

Gar curved his lips into a smile of greeting, pushing the previous annoyance to the back of his mind. “Hi, Clark.”

“Hey.” Jon said through a frown, averting his gaze down to the bowl of cereal.

The Man of Steel progresses into the room, Gar watching as he strolls over to the seat Jonathan occupied and rests a hand on the teenager’s shoulder. Jon too busy pouring the excess milk into his mouth to acknowledge his father’s appearance beside him– or he didn’t care.

The man’s eyes drift between the two, ultimately landing on Jonathan. “Did you both sleep well?”

Gar presses his lips into a thin line, waiting for his boyfriend to respond to the question. It’s not his place to tell Clark what happened earlier, especially if Jonathan wants to keep it to themselves. And he most likely does.

“Fine.” Jon replied after a few heartbeats, hopefully not making his father raise a suspicious eyebrow. He looks at Gar with a smile, adding. “I woke up to an owl, so that was pretty cool.”

Following his son’s gaze, Clark sends the shapeshifter a questioning glance.

Gar clears his throat, then shrugs. “I wanted to stay awake all night and owls are nocturnal, soo..”

“What about the antlers?”

“That is a..”

Averting his gaze from Clark to Jon, who quickly lost the melancholy look and pulled his lips into a smirk, eyes sparkling while he raised his eyebrows. Cheek regaining a bit of color, Gar shook his head, then gave the man a semi-awkward grin, accompanied by a chuckle.

“Complicated answer.”

“Alrighty then.” Clark gives Jonathan’s shoulder a gentle but excited shake, the pride overflowing from his tone as he speaks. “I came to steal Jonathan for the afternoon, it’s time he learned to use his powers.”

“Let me get dressed appropriately first, kay?” Jon said.

Clark nods, “When you’re ready, ask my mother to bring you to the training area.”

As the Man of Steel abandoned his son’s side, moving towards the door he entered through, he sends Gar a final glance and directs a good-natured tease about the antlers that had finally disappeared his way.

“Whelp!” Jon slaps his palms against the table, then stands from his chair. “Time to go burn a crystal or whatever.”

Gar smiles, “Tell me how it goes.”

Getting up from his seat as well, he goes to grab his empty cereal bowl but stops mid-reach when he realizes there’s nowhere to throw the bowl away.

“You aren’t gonna join?”

Attention shifted to Jon, Gar explains. “Jordan asked me to help him with something.”

Earlier, passing by Jordan in the hall resulted in the dark haired teenager stopping him on his tracks, asking him if he heard the weird noises and felt the bumps coming from the bottom of the Fortress last night. Gar never heard the noises but agreed to feeling the bumping, that’s when Jordan asked if Gar could lend a hand in investigating and mentioned Gar’s powers, suggesting he used them as an extra aid.

Jonathan’s brows furrowed together for a brief second, before the expression softened. “Alright.”

The shapeshifter's heart grew in his chest, face turning bright pink, when Jonathan stepped closer to him and placed a kiss on his cheek, hand cradling the side of his face.

Eyes sparkle with affection, gazing into the coldest blue he thinks he’s ever seen. His smile twitches, threatening to drop into a frown, when Jonathan’s hand begins to leave his face. Forcing his own hand to stay at his side instead of reaching up to keep the other’s hand against his face. Enjoying the warm touch to his cheek, and wishing it would have lasted a bit longer.

“Don’t let him drag you too deep into whatever nonsense he has planned, okay?”

Gar replies, quietly. “Yeah.” Then adds, a little louder and accompanied by a smirk. “Dangerous nonsense is more your thing, anyway.”


After changing into an outfit he thought fit the upcoming excitement better than slept-in pajamas and spending a few minutes outside to sunbathe at his grandmother’s command, not too long or he’d risk overheating again but just long enough to give his abilities some charge to use, Jonathan pushes open two heavy doors and finds his attention draw to the beauty of the room, by its appearance you’d never guess it was used for training.

He breathes a quiet “whoa”, gaze taking a detailed sweep of this new area of the Fortress.

He hasn’t been to more than twenty percent of the Fortress, but knows the place is giant and thinks this has got to be the biggest room placed inside.

The room wasn’t a chilly blue like the rest, it glowed a warm pinkish-purple. Clusters of crystals growing up from the corners of the wall shined and gave off a comforting aura. The floor wasn’t flat or lacked design either, it was the most impressive part to him.. There was no floor, at least not the kind you’d expect.

A few feet away, attached to the wall at his side, a fountain area with purple crystals of different sizes coming out of the water, and surrounded by large stones decorated with moss and flowers. The water - colored a soothing lavender - flooded throughout the entire room, leaving not much space for dryland, only the island floating in the middle of the room where his father stood conversing with his grandmother and the stones leading to it guaranteed him a dry trip.

Stepping off of the entrance platform and hopping across the stepping stones, Jonathan lands on the island bordered by the same stones and goes to stand at his father’s side.

“This is not how I was expecting a training room to look.”

Jordan’s been training here for over a year, how come he’s never mentioned how gorgeous it was? The fountain, the crystals, everything looked ripped straight from a fantasy movie.

“I never was a fan of keeping things bland.” Clark said, glancing down to Jonathan at his side. “I wanted to give this Fortress my own flair this time.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Jon agreed, lifting a hand to watch the tiny sparkle of light glide over his palm, like a firefly missing the bug part.

He gives his father a curious look, “Does this mean I get to design my Fortress, too?”

His father shrugs, “If you’d like.”

The teenager’s lips stretch into a bright smile, “Cool.”

A fortress located in the jungle sounded perfect, on a secluded island out in the middle of nowhere. Where the sun heats up the air and land, never a single snowflake or hint of winter in the breeze. Only bright rays on his face and hot sand under his feet– besides the occasional storm, of course. Surrounded by unique flora and wildlife, colorful flowers and singing birds.

The alien boy’s cheeks flush pink, imagination painting a picture of a beach with sand as white and soft as powdered sugar, turning to darkened mush at the water’s edge, where clear blue waves rolled gently onto land. The setting sun framed his body perfectly as if it was purposely fitted for him, a familiar face with neon green hair, sat comfortably in the sand, smiled at the parrot perched on his forearm and mimicked the bird when it tilted its head, laughing softly to himself as he did so.

“Ready to test your powers?”

Daydream coming to an abrupt halt, breaking away under his father’s hand as it's placed on his shoulder, teleporting him back to reality. The heat from the blush spreads rapidly throughout his face, turning it from a light pink to vibrant red, and the veins running through his throat glow fiery orange.

A burning sensation ignites in his chest. Pressing his lips together, Jonathan takes a deep breath then exhales through his nose, a cloud of dark smoke expelling from his nostrils and insides promptly cool down.

He hears his father chuckle in amusement.

“I, uh, guess you are.”


Cold, salty ocean air blew through the crystal hall, causing the walls to twinkle faintly. The wind chill becoming worse the closer they advanced to the Fortress’ entrance. Shivering, cheeks and tip of nose flushed red, Gar zips up the puffy, white vest covering a long sleeved dark green sweater and crosses his arms over his chest to preserve what little heat he had left.

Walking at his side, Jordan clasps his hands together. “Alright, just hear me out. No laughing.” He pleads.

Just like his twin earlier, Jordan didn’t seem to be affected by the cold either. That must be nice.

Gar cocks an eyebrow. “Why would I laugh?”

“Righttt..” Jordan huffs a mini laugh, visualized by a breathy cloud. “I guess I’m too used to Jon.”

Must have been Jonathan a few years back. Garfield rarely sees Jon pester his brother, lately it’s been Jordan laughing and poking fun at Jon. Unless more teasing goes on when Gar isn’t around, which is more than likely the case. Jordan’s seen more sides of Jonathan than he has.

“Earlier when I landed, I saw something.”

Gar stops in his tracks. “Saw what?”

“I have an idea, but I don’t know.” Jordan pauses, biting his bottom lips as he nervously scratches at the side of his face. “It was under the water and huge, like bigger than any whale.”

Continuing on, the other teen’s eyes narrow and shoulders shrug. “I thought it might have– possibly –been a sea serpent.”

Eyebrows raise a tad at the reveal. The response was, in fact, humorous but not for the reason Jordan probably thought. A genuine smile appears on the teenager’s face as he gestures to his friend with a hand.

“Jordan, you’re an alien.” The hand is brought back to be placed against his chest. “And I’m a shapeshifter. We’re the things the destination channel makes documentaries about. A sea serpent’s existence actually seems more logical.”

He’s seen descriptions of shapeshifters in certain types of media and couldn’t say he was a fan of most of them. He’s not that scary and.. gross, is he? Sure, the sounds of his shapeshifting would make most disgusted, but at least he’s not shedding his skin each time.

Jordan’s face significantly brightens up, the other teenager wrapping an arm over Gar’s shoulder. “And if anyone can contact it, it’s you!”

“Ahh.. I see, that’s my purpose here. I have to call up the Loch Ness Monster.”

Jordan tilts his head, “Would you prefer Bigfoot?”

“Nah, Nessie is fine, thank you.” Gar smiles, patting the darker haired Kent brother’s forearm.

Will he be able to communicate with a sea serpent if he manages to bring one here is a question he doesn’t have a proper answer to, because there is none.. other than an “I don’t know” but those never felt like answers to him, just a more wordy way of ending the topic without saying “no”.

“I thought you could check out near the bottom of the Fortress too, to assess damage just in case.” Worry flashes faintly in the teen’s eyes. “It sounded like it smacked into the Fortress pretty hard.”

Frowning, Gar nods. “I can do that.”

Probably a good idea. The last thing anyone wants is for this giant ice castle to crumple into the ocean. He is the only one who can inspect and talk to whatever is down there, sea serpent or not.

Outside, on the Fortress’ large landing balcony, brown eyes scan the open area; finding nothing but miles and miles of waves, rolling lightly in the breeze and tinted gray by the clouded sky denying the earth the sun’s light.

Peering over the edge, eyes pointing down at the ocean below, he swallows hard. Fear spikes in the teenager, making his heart pick up in speed and stomach twist into a knot. Straightening up, dragging his gaze away from the icy depths, he twists around to look at Jordan.

“Alright, there is no way I’m gonna be able to jump in myself. Can you give me a push at–”

Remaining sentence dies in his mouth, becoming a gasp. The sound of rushing wind fills his ears and a cry barely has time to escape through his lips as he twists his body in mid-air to face back first, crashing into the water a second later.

A few silent moments roll by, the clothes the teenager had been dressed in floated to the surface and are followed by a green seal designed with clusters of darker spots pops out of the water. Forest green eyes glaring up at the boy standing far above him, the seal emits a loud, gravelly screeching noise of displeasure.

“Sorry!” Jordan’s voice echoes to him. “Brotherly instincts took over at ‘push me’!”

After exhaling an exasperated huff, a heavy whoosh of air blows past Gar and Jordan reappears on the balcony, holding up his soaked clothes for him to see.

Jordan shouts again. “I’ll dry these for you!”

Sounding another loud noise to tell the Kryptonian boy he’s going under, the seal dives and propels himself towards the Fortress with a flapping tail, gliding through the water as easily as a bird flies through the sky. He couldn’t reach the true bottom as it stretched down into the deep, but can search the area he thought Jordan was talking about.

Coming to a halt before he bumper car’ed into his reflection, Gar eyes the wall of crystal in front of him, inspecting for any signs of damage; running a flipper over the areas for extra measures.

Keeping a flipper on the crystal, dragging it along, the seal begins to swim slowly around to the other side, keeping eyes peeled for anything that might catch his attention. And something does, except it’s not a part of the crystal..

The seal's eyes widened.

Drifting through the water, an uncomfortably familiar red trail, leading to or from somewhere Garfield couldn’t see.

Heart pounding in his chest, a dark gaze frantically sweeps side to side, searching for the predator responsible for the cloud of carnage. The blood had to be fresh. The carnivore couldn’t be far.

“A seal was such a stupid idea.” He internally hissed at himself, “Almost everything with teeth eats seals!”

A few heartbeats pass, any sights or sounds of a sea predator non-existent, making Gar tilt his head. With guard still high up and finger on the metaphorical trigger, the green seal curiously swims forward, abandoning his previous task.

A nose length in front of the blood trail reveals the trail wasn’t blood at all, it’s red like blood and that’s where the similarities end. What it really is, he doesn’t know, but Gar’s seen blood underwater before and what’s inches from his nose isn’t what he remembers. Blood trails don’t give off a faint glow either.

Watching the unmoving red, a tiny voice in the back of his head whispers for him to investigate. He did promise he’d check for anything suspicious at the bottom of the Fortress after all and something about it was alluring to him, it deserved his attention, wanted his attention.

Wrinkling his nose in preparation and against his own better judgment, the seal sticks his muzzle out and into the cloud of unknown red, resulting in an electric shock to surge through his body as if he got plugged into an outlet. Followed by a collection of animals screaming and screeching over each other, rattling his brain in his skull and threatening to burst his eardrums.

Squeezing his eyes shut and mouth falling agape in a non-verbal cry, he jerks his head away from the trail and violently shakes it in efforts to cease the high pitched ringing in his ears. His lungs felt tight as well, pressured, his body craved air and needed it to relieve his lungs. Which, even while focused on the ringing, he thought was strange since he shifted into a harbor seal and they could stay underwater for thirty minutes.

It wasn’t until the ringing faded and he attempted to blink his eyes open did he find the reasoning. To his horror, through the sting of salt water burning his eyes, his blurred gaze could make out two identical objects floating in front of him: a pair of human hands.

Above the water, unaware of the chaos below, Jordan sat back against the Fortress’ wall and fiddled with his hoodie strings. An uneasy feeling began to creep up his spine, making the teenager rethink some of his decisions.

“This might have been a bad idea.” He murmured out loud to himself.

Surface of the water being breached partnered by a gasp for air breaks the silence, followed quickly by coughing and his housemate’s voice calling his name. Scrambling to his feet, Jordan darts across the balcony and drops to his knees and hands when reaching the edge.

“What happened!?” Eyes stretched round in alarm, seeing his friend shifted back to his human form treading water. “Are you okay?!”

“I don’t-” Gar takes a deep breath, wiping a hand over his face to rid the water from his eyes. “I don’t know. Can you help me up?”

“Yeah, of course!–” In the process of getting to his feet, a thought pops into Jordan’s head, a reminder, and the teen pauses. “Wait, aren’t you naked? Because while I wanna help you, I don’t want Jon to kill me in my sleep, ya know?”

“I don’t think so?” Green eyes narrow in focus and drift down to examination lower than his torso through the constant movement of waves, causing him to bob to stay in one place. “My bottom half might be a shark.”

“Might?”

“Could be a dolphin?” The shapeshifter’s expression hardens, losing any hint of humor, and adds. “But I was too busy trying not to drown to notice.”

Even though he knew Gar couldn’t see it, Jordan flashes his friend an apologetic smile for the questioning, then gets to his feet and flies to him. Hovering above, he scoops his friend up from under his arms and lifts him out of the water, confirming that his lower half was indeed a shark’s, complete with a long forked tail and multiple fins along the rest of the body.

“Oh yeah, you’re definitely a shark.” Jordan smiles, “You kind of look like a merman.”

Starting to aggressively shiver once taken out of the water, Gar says through sharpened, chattering teeth. “I sug- suggest going faster just in case I sh- shift back to normal.”

Zooming up to the balcony and into the Fortress, Jordan leaves Garfield where he left his dried clothes and returned outside to give his friend privacy.

Once Garfield rejoined him, with human legs and dressed in dry clothes, Jordan trailed after him as he marched towards the balcony edge and buddied up at his side, placing a comforting hand on his upper arm. A gesture he’s so used to doing to his brother.

“What happened? Why’d you shapeshift?”

“I didn’t,” Gar replied in a harder tone than usual, but there was fear able to be picked out in his voice as well. “There’s something down there, it- it disabled my powers or something.”

Jordan’s eyebrows raise at the answer, then lifts his hands to shield his face from the water spraying off of his friend as he shakes his wet hair.

“What could do that?” He asks once the impromptu shower is finished.

Gar shrugs honestly, then directs an all too familiar look Jordan’s way that makes the teen immediately think ‘oh no’. Those eyes sparkling with adventurous determination, the smirk stuck to his face, he’s seen the expression find home on his brother’s face one too many times. Usually right before he did something completely out of the need for a quick thrill or just because it sounded fun to him.

“But I’m gonna figure out what it is.”

“How?” Jordan frowned, a worm of apprehension burrowing into his brain. “I don’t think shapeshifting again is the smartest idea.”

The smartest route to take would be apologizing for bringing the idea of investigating up and almost getting his friend drowned, then abandoning the whole thing to go watch his brother attempt to use his new powers.

“You said it earlier,”

Jordan’s mouth falls slightly agape, watching as brown iris' light up neon green. Veins under layers of skin illuminate and arms, starting from his fingertips, all turning the same shade of green as his eyes. He backs up a few inches, giving his friend space to do whatever he planned on doing.

“I’m gonna give our undersea friend a call.”


“So,”

Shoving his hands into his front jeans pockets, Jonathan’s gaze averts up to his father as he awkwardly kicks at the dirt below with the heel of his boot.

“I’ve never used this before, how do I, like, summon it?”

Clark tilts his head slightly, “You said you’ve almost breathed fire before, right?”

Jon nods.

“Well, what triggered the reaction then?”

Biting his lower lip, his eyes narrow in thought; racking his brain for memories where he vividly remembers feeling a certain way before his powers kicked in stronger and faster than they would have during a random moment and time.

Only able to dig up a couple fairly recent times that stuck out to him the most, Jon pulls a hand from his pocket to scratch his cheek and shrugs his shoulders, purposefully ignoring the two scabbed over wounds on his face as his finger brushed over.

“Uh, when I got pretty pissed at Jordan and sometimes when I think about..” He trails off, not wishing to go on.

As he suspected, however, his father questions what he’d been thinking about.

Unable to bring himself to voice a verbal response, cheeks warm up red and he sends his father a crooked grin of embarrassment. By the smirk that replaced the confused look, Jon guessed his father caught on to what he was alluding to without him having to add. Thank god.

“Ohh, okay, got it.” Chuckling softly, Clark carefully bumps his fist into Jonathan’s arm and Jon tilts his head down to place his face in his hands. “Let’s go with whatever works today.”

At least his father left it at that and didn’t slide in some comment about continuing their conversation from a week or so ago. Maybe if Jon never brings anything in relation up again, his father will forget and he’ll be spared from a mortifying discussion.

“When you’re able, I want you to aim your fire at this target.”

Removing his hands from his face, he glances to his father who’s standing at the edge of the platform and gesturing to a hologram of a target hovering above the water with a flick of his head.

What little bit of confidence he came into the room with dripping away like a steady leak in a cracked pipe. The realization - the reality - that he’s in here to use a power, his power, finally weighing onto him.

He wanted this, he cried and begged to be anything but mundane. To stand next at his father’s side, be engulfed in a red cape, wear the symbol of hope proudly on his chest. Mean something to his family, be just as super as them. And now he has it, he’s been given the chance to take his spot and shed what remaining ties he had to his previous self. Finish the puzzle with his piece.

So, why is his heart pounding loud enough to fill his ears and strong enough to cause a hefty, tight knot of anxiety to settle in his chest. Eyes glued to a pair of shaking hands, breaths taken turn shallow and lungs begin to heat up, sending fiery veins up his throat.

What if he can’t do this? Stupidly embarrass himself in front of his father and grandmother. Fail a simple command, something that would’ve gotten him insulted and chastised at football practice. Prove the parasite in the back of this head, whispering doubts since he arrived here, right.

“Jonathan! Don’t overthink it.”

His father’s voice grabs his attention, grounding the hurricane of thoughts. Wearing a smile so warm, so big Jon could tease it almost reached the frame of his glasses, his father put two enthusiastic thumbs up and nodded encouragingly, shouting as if he’s cheering Jonathan on at a football game.

“You got this! I believe in you!”

His father is right.

After carefully slapping his un-injured cheek to give himself a little pep and get his brain back on track, Jonathan focuses his narrowed gaze solely on the target. Taking a step back, he tenses his body, stiffening his shoulders and puffing his chest; mimicking the stance he used to take when preparing for a fellow teammate to collide into him.

The heat in his lungs grew into a burn, pushing an uncomfortable feeling of boiling acid up his throat. Instead of forcing it back down, extinguishing and expelling through smoke, he opens his mouth, which sparks with tiny embers as he did so, and breathes out. Resulting in a powerful line of fire exploding from his mouth, shooting in the direction of and through its intended target, the blazing inferno crashing into the wall. Leaving nothing but a torch mark and clouds of smoke swiftly filling the room when the fire ceases.

Between the high pitched ringing, his own shallow breathing and his father’s muffled excited cheering filling his ears. Body suddenly drained, limbs weak and hanging heavy, Jonathan stumbles back, then bends forward to place his hands on the tops of his thighs, combating the lightheadedness making him dizzy.

Eyes squeezed shut, he feels hands cup his upper arms, giving him extra help to stay standing.

“Great job!” His father exclaims, giving his son a gentle shake.

“I don’t think-” Jonathan wheezes, out of breath. “I don’t think I can do that again.”

“Yup, that’s perfectly fine.” Clark said, able to hear the bright smile in his voice. Keeping his grip on Jon’s upper arms firm until the boy regained steady legs, he adds. “There’s other things we can test today.”

Confused, Jon blinks up at his father. “There is? I only have one power.”

Seeing his dad’s toothy grin press into a closed smile and eyes shine with joyful pride, the teenager’s brows furrow as he tilts his head. Unknowing what his father’s change in expression is in reaction to, other than something Jon had no knowledge of.

“In the scan I took of you,”

Jonathan snapped his head to the side, attention pointed this time at the hologram woman answering his unspoken question. Stepping closer to the two men, her holographic body unbothered by the smoke surrounding them, she halts in front of them and clasps her hands together in front of her chest.

“I found there were other abilities forming. Though, none were strong enough to affect you like the fire breath has done.”

Clark sighed in relief, “Thankfully.”

Pulse speeding up, Jonathan straightened his posture. “I have more?” He whispers to no one in particular.

Excitement in its purest form ran throughout his body: tips of his fingers tingling, stomach fluttering with butterflies, the urge to start bouncing in place. A type of child-like excitement he hasn’t experienced in such a long time, not in relation to this topic at least.

Looking up at his grandmother, blue eyes sparkle. “What else do I have?”

The woman smiles, “As I suspected, you inherited your father’s fire and ice abilities, but they switched roles.” Then lips curve into a frown of thought. “How, I do not know.”

Jonathan throws his hands up in exclamation, “Whoa! Wait!” After giving his brain a few moments to process the information fed to it, he turns to his father for confirmation. “So, I got ice vision instead of heat vision?”

His father gives his shoulder a love squeeze, “Seems so, buddy.”

Returning his focus to holo-grams, his questions continue. “Does that mean all my powers are, like, backwards or just those? Can I fly? Have super strength?”

Out of all the amazing things his father can do, Jonathan always found himself fond of the thought of flight. Even before the truth of his real heritage had been revealed, he remembers sitting on their front porch (if it could’ve been called one, that is) of their Metropolis apartment and staring up at the sky, getting lost in daydreams about soaring through the clouds, feeling the wind and sun on his face. Imagining then, all his stresses and worries blowing away as he leaves his life on the ground.

The freedom that comes with such a power.

Sadly, the smile appearing on his face from happy reminiscing doesn’t stay long. Lara’s expression falls, her eyes averting to the side and refusing to look at her grandson for a moment. The previous glow to her eyes darkened to sadness, directing a pitying gaze at the young Kryptonian.

She shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry, Jon-El. From what I received in the scan, the ability to expel fire and ice are all you inherited from your father.”

A crack forms in the teenager’s heart, her words like a knee striking his gut. “You’re telling me I get two powers and they aren’t even correct?”

“There’s still a chance you could form more.” He hears his father attempting to ease disappointment, bringing a hopeful maybe. He’s kind of known for doing so. “Jordan didn’t get all of his abilities overnight.”

“I guess.” Jon mumbled, quietly.

“However,” Lara reinserted herself into the conversation. “Just because you haven’t inherited more of your father’s abilities doesn’t mean you haven’t formed your own.”

“What?” Jon glanced at his father for an answer, but he looked to be just as confused as him. “What does that mean?”

“Your cells don’t react to the sun in the same ways your father’s and brother’s do.” The hologram woman explains, “Which is a normal reaction for a hybrid such as yourself, you were bound to have effects like this.”

She continues, tilting her head slightly. “Growing up, do you remember experiencing strange emotions at random around other people?”

Jonathan clears his throat, hoping this discussion isn’t about to take the turn he thinks it is. “Uh, can I ask what you mean by that?”

The woman nods, then rephrases her question. “Around others, especially with strong emotions, can you remember feeling a certain way? Were you affected by their moods?”

“Ohh..” Chest loosening with relief, he nods as well. “Yeah, definitely. My mom always said I was a sensitive kid.”

“Do you still get these feelings?”

“Yeah, actually, just yesterday when I was with her.”

Before his grandmother responds, Jonathan sees her glance to his father first and smiles as if she was using the action to confirm a silent question for him.

“Jonathan,” Focus back on her grandson, her eyes shined with as much warmth and pride as an a.i could generate. “You have the ability to feel the emotions of others as if they were your own.”

Eyes snap wide open and a quiet “what” is all that manages to squeak out through his lips. It takes a couple seconds for his brain to dispel the disbelief it so badly wanted to cling onto and accept what he was told, even if it sounded absolutely unbelievable to him.

With a little shake to his voice, he asks. “How did I not notice this?”

“It’s an ability you were born with. The feelings they brought were normal to you.”

His heart leaps into his throat at the casual drop of mind blowing information.

“You’re saying I had powers this whole time!?” He shouts loud enough to cause a faint echo.

The unexpected twist in today’s story prompts a memory from his mind’s film reel to replay, one when they were living in Metropolis and Jordan returned from his therapy session. Descending the stairs to greet his brother and mother, he felt a strong pang of disappointment when his eyes landed on his twin, despite seeing beaming grins on both of his family member’s faces and hearing their laughter of enjoyment.

“Sorry about how your session went today, that sucks.” Words he clearly remembers telling his brother while giving him a tight embrace for comfort, which earned him a very confused look from Jordan.

Now, thinking back on the moment with a new view, an understanding of why he knew Jordan had a disappointing day without being told, it’s obvious something was different about him. But then, he never gave it a single thought because, as his grandmother just said, it was normal to him.

“I must inform you, however, the fact you’ve had this ability for so long without any proper training might have caused it to now be uncontrollable.”

“Like, he can’t just decide to use it?” Clark chimes in with a question this time. “It’ll happen whenever?”

Lara nods.

“Oh, well, I guess if I’ve had it my whole life and hasn’t bothered me before,” Jon shrugs, lips stretching into a nervous grin. “I should be fine, right?”

“As well as the ability having side effects, they’re occasional and not strong enough to cause damage, but Jon-El is able to cast his feelings onto others. Likely the ones he’s closest to, have the strongest emotional connection.”

“And he won’t be able to control that either?”

The hologram shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

His father and grandmother's discussion goes on, but Jonathan's not listening, their voices turning to fuzzy background noise. Transported back into his memories, all the times he and Jordan would joke about having a “psychic twin connection” where they somehow knew what the other was feeling and by extension: thinking. There never was one, their connection had nothing to do with their relationship as twins, it had to do with Jonathan.

When Jon would injure himself and Jordan would swear he felt it too, then they’d laugh it off as their connection or “we’ve been hanging around each other for too long.” Jordan did feel what Jonathan was feeling, and that is a truly terrifying thought. His twin could’ve felt everything, what happened to him the night he ran away from home and met Timmy Ryan on the backroad.

“Jonathan, are you feeling alright?”

Back in reality, he notices his grandmother had disappeared, and forces the most reassuring grin he could muster when turning his head to face his father.

“Uh- yeah, got lost in thought for a second there.” He exhales a deep breath, “A lot to process.”

And it still doesn’t seem real, it’s taking his brain quite a while to wrap around the fact that he somehow formed his own, unique power and he apparently had it since he was born? He doesn’t know how that works since he couldn't be affected by the sun then, unless holo-grams meant ‘since you were born’ as the day he was born and sunlight more than likely came through the window at some point.

What’s the purpose, though? Why does he need this power, what in his hybrid cells decided on it? And why did it make the powers he did inherit from his father backwards? Then again, the sun did change his hair color, so maybe there’s no reason to bother his brain with all this thinking because there’s no answer that'll have as much detail as he wants.

Eyes a darker blue than his gaze at him empathically, “I get it, we’ll talk about it more after dinner, I promise.”

Jon frowns, “We’re having dinner.. Here?”

“Nope, we’re all going out to celebrate.” Clark wraps an arm over his son’s shoulders and gives him another gentle shake. “You did great today, bud!”

A genuine smile hints on the teenager’s lips. Greatly appreciating his father’s decision to end their training for today and giving his mind the remainder of the day to rest, not sure he’d be able to pay much attention to the lesson anyway. Though, the thought of learning to use ice vision (that sounds lame, arctic vision would be cooler- pun very much intended) does sound fun, for another day.

“Come on, let’s go find the other two.”


“I probably should’ve said this before now,”

Jordan’s voice entered the air, adding another noise other than lapping waves to the tranquil moment. Shifting his gaze to the teenager sitting next to him from the gray water, slowly returning to a clear blue due to the clouds covering the sun almost all day finally breaking apart.

“But sorry for dragging you out here just to end up sitting and staring at water.”

“Hey! No need to apologize.” Gar beams brightly, playfully punching the darker haired twin’s upper arm. “I had fun! Even if I got ghosted by a sea serpent.”

Jordan chuckles softly, “Me too.”

The shapeshifter's smile threatens to drop, seeing Jordan shove his hands into his hoodie’s large middle pocket and tilt his head down, slightly swinging his legs back and forth.

“Jonathan never wanted to help me monster hunt.” He mumbled.

Gar scoffed, “Really? Running around the woods and trespassing in the name of investigation sounds like his thing.”

When they were heading to that deserted playground during the middle of the night, Jonathan didn’t seem to hesitate even a little as he climbed over the park’s fence that had a clear ‘no trespassing’ sign attached to the chain-link.

“He won’t admit it now, but he’s terrified of anything supernatural.” Jordan smirks, lifting a hand to wiggle his fingers. “Mainly ghosts.”

Gar’s smile twitches, brows furrowing together for a split second. For being scared of supernatural creatures, the blonde teenager never gave off the impression he was bothered by Gar’s ability as a shapeshifter, but he guesses he’s nothing like shapeshifters you’d see in monster movies and shows.

And he is metahuman, after all. There are no folktales about him. More of a science experiment, really, he was made in a lab.

Jordan breathes an elongated sigh, leaning back against his tailbone and props himself up with arms and palms pressed into the crystal surface, dark blue -almost purple- eyes blinking at miles of open ocean.

“Thinking about it makes him uncomfortable I guess, and if he’s uncomfortable he’s probably gonna get scared, then he’s either gonna a.” The alien boy brings up a finger, “shut his feelings away and act like it’s not bothering him or b.” the next finger follows, “-get angry, that one's rare though. Angry and defensive is more for when he's lying.”

Eyes darken as he felt a pang of worry, remembering how his and Jonathan’s morning went. Lips curving into a deep frown, Gar pulls his legs up from hanging over the edge to bring against his chest, arms wrapping around them in a makeshift hug.

“He won’t talk about it either.” He adds, mumbling into his knees.

“That too.”

Gar winces when a hand is softly slapped into his shoulder blade, making him shift focus to the culprit.

“That sea monster clearly didn't get our voicemail,” Jordan throws a thumb over his shoulder. “Wanna go see what Jon's up to?”

“Yeah.” Gar breathed.

Admittedly, he knew their call wouldn't be answered, there is no sea serpent; just fun to pretend and play along. The trail of red below the waves? He doesn't know or how it messed with his powers like it did. When the excitement of monster hunting died off, unease caught up and creeped up his spine, putting him on edge. Nothing should be able to take control of his powers besides him.

With another exhale, the teenager gets to his feet and trails after Jordan, who made a teasing comment about his brother accidentally setting the training room ablaze by simply sneezing, which got a tiny chuckle out of him.

Reaching the Fortress entrance, Garfield's stride comes to an abrupt halt, like an invisible force grabbed and forced him to stay still. Limbs were impossible to move, eyes were stuck in an unblinking stare, taking panicked and heavy breaths being the only thing able to be done.

“There you are.”

A woman's voice echoed throughout his head, just like the whispering he heard before he stuck his nose into the red. Sounding sing-songy as she spoke and by the tone, clearly pleased she found him, in a hunter stalking its prey from the shadows kind of way.

Haunting enough to infest his arms with goosebumps.

Once whatever hold on his body broke, he immediately notices the thick fog gathering at his feet and surrounding from all sides, as well as in front of the entrance, blocking the only way inside and trapping him outside.

Behind the unsuspecting teenager, a large serpentine body glides through the ocean, revealing a hump of dark scales here and there as it navigates through the fog, emitting strange noises that could be described as multiple animals talking all at once.

With no other options to take, Garfield slowly turns around. Eyes stretch round and mouth falls into a silent gasp, fear instantly causing his body to freeze up once more, watching the silhouette of a creature bigger than any known marine animal lift its head from the water and peer at him through the fog, conveniently hiding its true appearance from viewing.

Locking eyes with the beast's blood red gaze, shining through the fog like a pair of car headlights, set off animals, thousands of them, screeching and hollering inside his mind. Unlike him in this moment, they were rejoicing and cheering, they knew what this thing was. And they wanted to rejoin with it, wanted him to rejoin with it.

Finding enough strength to quit this game of deer in the headlight, eye contact is broken with the creature despite its appearance feeling almost magnetic to him and to the aggressive protests of the animals.

Twisting his head to the side and keeping eyes squeezed shut until the odd aura of creature's presence disappeared, the world looked back to normal when he peeked at his surrounding to investigate. No fog, no sea monster, everything just as it was a mere minute ago, as if he imagined what happened.

Clearly, it wasn't in his head, because when legs shaking so hard he thought they were gonna give out under him turn the teenager back around, he meets another face. This time a horrifyingly pale Jordan, resembling a man watching a dead body sit up on the morgue table.

Notes:

Next chapter:
Garfield and Jonathan enjoy time alone together at the Fortress, taking a step in their relationship.

Chapter 19: The one everyone's been waiting for

Summary:

Garfield and Jonathan enjoy time alone together at the Fortress, taking a step in their relationship.

Notes:

HEYY I'm back with the chapter I know for a fact everyone's been waiting for,, I'm sorry it's late but I wanted to be perfect! and while writing I scrapped another idea, a more angsty idea, to keep it all mushy and soft since there's not a lot of chapters like that in this fic

and I'm sorry if some of this is cringy but that was kind of the whole point, it was planned. these two are overly flirty and cringy gotta keep them in character lmao

also 10,000 HITS??? THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING AND STICKING AROUND!! I WOULDN'T EVEN BE AT CHAPTER 19 IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU ALL!! Hope you enjoy!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Come on! Come on!”

Hands locked together tug the shapeshifter excitedly forward, speeding up the teenager’s intentions of a leisurely stroll. He doesn’t mind though. A smile warm with affection curves his lips, he might not be as energetic as his boyfriend but loves to see him bounce around like a happy puppy when he’s excited.

“I’d ask where we’re going, but I know I won’t get an answer.”

When did he ever get an answer to that question?

This time, however, he was glad for the lack of response. No words could describe in perfection what his eyes lay on when Jonathan opens the doors to the room he’d been training in for the past few days. Sparkling crystals growing out of the corners of the room, colors matching the soothing lavender water surrounding the island of dry land in the middle of the room.

“This is where you train!?” Gar gasps in awe, taking in the beautiful sights. “Makes Titans Tower’s training room look like shit.”

Jon snorts, “Makes a lot of places look like shit, babe.”

“Babe?” Gar echoes, quickly.

Jonathan was already hopping across the stepping stones when Gar spoke, not catching the word that came out like a question. And by the lack of reaction, he wondered if Jon was even aware of what he said.

Heart fluttering excitedly in his chest, a large grin appears on the shapeshifter’s lips, he gives his chest a -hopefully- subtle puff and runs a quick hand through his hair, then follows after his alien partner, hopping from stone to stone until reaching the island.

“Sooo..” Gar blinked, feeling a spark of familiarity when Jonathan stood at the edge of the island and peered into the water. “What are we doing in here?”

Twisting around to face Garfield, Jonathan shrugged honesty as he grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it up, removing the plain gray t-shirt to toss into the ground of flat dirt below. But, in usual fashion, kept the gold chain necklace around his neck. Showering might be the only instance where Gar’s seen his boyfriend remove the piece of jewelry and wonders quite a bit why he’s so obsessed with it.

Maybe it’s tied to something important from his childhood.

“We haven’t hung out together in a while, and I thought we could swim and mess around.” Jon mumbles, sounding a tad apologetically. “There’s not much else to do here.”

He is right about that. For the past two days, the most exciting part of the day was watching Jonathan test out his powers for a few hours or so, then be super sped back to civilization by Superman to join the rest of the family for dinner. But until those scheduled times of the day, a lot doesn’t happen. He mainly stays outside on the fortress’ balcony to sunbathe during the uneventful moments with Jonathan, who sticks to the shadows as he’s not supposed to be in the sun that long.

Wincing, worry flashes in the teenager’s eyes. “Is it safe water to swim in? And don’t even say ‘I wanna find out’, I can’t let you do that.”

Smile of reassurance on his lips, Jon flapped his hand. “It’s just ocean water colored purple because of the crystals.”

And the last time Gar was in the ocean, he almost drowned then accidentally summoned a giant blood red sea serpent that could somehow take control of his body.

“Oh..” Gar chuckles, “And here I thought you were wearing swim trunks because you forgot to ask for clean clothes.”

“Nah, I did that.” Crouching down to push himself into the water, the blonde teen pauses before he enters; expression warping into one of thought before quickly snapping back to the previous sunny demeanor. “Yeah, I did.”

Slipping bottom half first into the lavender colored water, the alien boy disappears under for a few heartbeats, unable to be seen due to the color, before resurfacing soaked in purple. Making him look like he bathed in a tub of grapes, much lighter purple grapes.

Jon hums, skimming his hands back and forth over the water’s surface. “I was kind of expecting this to feel odd but it doesn’t. It’s not even that cold.”

Scoffing in amusement, Gar uncrosses his arms to twirl a finger at his boyfriend. “Might have something to do with the smoke coming off you.”

Blinking at the observation, Jonathan shifts his gaze down to inspect his arms, finding Gar was right. Wispy smoke was rising from his arms, from shoulder to forearm. Lifting his hands from the water results in more, thicker, smoke to pour from his skin, now emitting a faint sizzling sound, like pouring water over hot coals.

“I guess I’m hot.”

“Well,” With a soft groan, Gar lowered himself to sit criss-crossed. All this shapeshifting to sleep hours through the night is beginning to take a toll on his bones. His ribcage feels a tad bit bruised. “can’t you breathe fire now, like some kind of dragon-boy?”

“Yeahh..” Jon sighed. Wading over to the island, he grabs onto the dirt surface with one hand while its twin wipes water from his eyes. “My insides are a fireplace now and forever.”

Garfield begins to laugh at the accuracy of the joke, but cuts it short with a loud gasp when the Kryptonian places his hand awfully close to his leg, making Jonathan flinch away.

Scooting backwards, he hisses. “Do not pull me in!”

Jon tilts his head, “I’m not?”

Narrowing his eyes, Gar argues. “You’ve done it before.”

And Jordan too. That was more of a push, though. Best to stay away from any large body of water when the Kent brothers are around.

Laughing softly, Jon averts his gaze elsewhere and scratches his cheek. “Yeah, but I'm not gonna force you to swim if you don’t want to. I was just messing around then.”

Through a grin, Gar mumbles, “I guess I did think about pulling you into the water as an alligator.”

“And take my arm at the same time?”

Playfully rolling his eyes at the comment, obviously it wasn’t genuine, but Garfield likes to reply as if it was.

While removing his hoodie and the shirt underneath, he scoffs. “Yes, I planned to tear your arm off as a prank.”

Scooting off the edge and into the glistening amethyst water, he hears Jonathan reply to the sarcasm with something about taking his left arm because his right arm has been through enough damage.

Submerging more than half of his body, face scrunched into a cringe, couldn’t say he’s a fan of the feeling of uncomfortable, heavy, soaked cargo shorts. Out of habit, he laughs awkwardly and squeaks out a half-assed joke about it.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to swim.” Jon frowns. “I totally would’ve had my dad grab my other pair of trunks if I knew.”

Gar wasn’t planning on getting wet either, but thought might as well. He just didn't want to be pulled in while dressed up.

Besides showering and the occasional getting sprayed with the sink hose by one of the brothers, he prefers to stay dry. Because of his childhood (or lack thereof), for too long he didn’t know how to swim, he wasn’t taught until joining the Titans.

Water combat was something Dick insisted was important to teach him and the other teen Titans, and remembers wanting to hide behind the pool area’s bleachers out of embarrassment when Jason found the shapeshifter’s lack of swimming ability funny, just another thing to point and laugh at.

Even with swimming practice and water combat, Gar wouldn’t call himself the best at swimming, unless he’s shifted into an aquatic species. Could it have something to do with watching his parents along with others drowning in a flash flood? Perhaps. But that’s a whole other can of worms Gar doesn’t want to open.

“You know, I thought my life would go many ways..”

Eyes follow Jonathan as he wades through the water, moving closer to the shapeshifter. Expecting an embrace, lips pull into a curious smirk realizing his partner was walking around him instead of towards him.

Blood rushes into his face, painting his cheeks and ear tips bright red, when arms wrap around his torso and Jonathan rests the side of his face against his shoulder, the faint stubble along his jawline poking his skin like tiny, fuzzy cactus needles.

“Getting backwards powers, dating my best friend, and ending up stuck at the fortress, was not one of those ways.”

He chuckles, “I’m gonna assume that’s a good thing.”

“Absolutely.”

“When I arrived on your earth, there were many things going through my head. What was gonna happen to me, where was I gonna go, how I was gonna..”

He trails off, refusing to finish the words as they were the reason four distinct and familiar faces appeared in his brain, bringing a pang of guilt along, but he quickly shakes them away like they were nothing but dust in the wind, and ends his response with a simple: “this wasn’t anywhere on my list.” and changes direction as he continues.

“I mean, I didn’t even know I liked you until the Harvest Fest! You gave me that plushie and something finally clicked, I guess.”

He developed his crush on his best friend before that moment of course, now he understands what all the past nervous laughing and warm cheeks meant, but then he didn’t.

“Whoa, whoa, wait..” Jonathan releases from the embrace and moves around to face Gar. “You figure out you have a crush on me and instantly go in for a kiss?”

Not knowing what to say, Gar nods.

Eyebrows raised as if he was impressed. “Maybe my parents should be worried about you; not me.”

Tilting his head, the shapeshifter frowns. “Why are your parents worried about you?”

Jonathan tenses slightly at the question, a light red flushing his cheeks, and laughs in obvious nervousness as he dismisses the concern with a wave of his hand.

“But I am extremely flattered. I didn’t know you found me so..” Smirk replacing the forced smile, he wiggles his shoulders. “Irresistible.”

Eyes rolled to the side at what silly looking action reminded him of a bird’s failing attempt at dazzling a potential mate by shaking their feathers and showing off their bright colors. And Jon’s swim trunk pattern sure is a mash of neon blues and pinks.

The smirk falls into a frown, scrunching his face and leaning away, when Gar flicks his hand through the water, splashing his boyfriend as a teasing and non-verbal way of telling him to “cut it out”.

“I’m not affected by dancing and you aren’t a bird of paradise.” He purred. “Though, you are as colorful as one.”

“I know right?” Jon huffs a mini laugh, dropping his gaze to observe the colors unusual for him even though his trunks were obstructed by the water. “Usually your outfits make my eyes bleed.”

“Very funny.” Leaning back against the island, Gar stretches his arms out along the edge, and blinks curiously at Jonathan. “Alright, Starboy, since we’re technically on the topic.. When did you start liking me?”

“Oh, uh,” Cheeks flushing red once more, Jonathan clears his throat and rubs the side of his neck. “Do you remember the first three weeks after you moved in?”

“Yeah.”

“Then.”

Gar nods his head forward, an action telling Jonathan to go on.

Face remaining red, shoulders deflate and he breathes an “okay”, then jumps straight into an explanation, bringing up a very specific moment of time Gar didn’t quite forget but wasn’t front place in his memory either.

As Jonathan continues, going into detail about the memory so important to him, pink begins to color the shapeshifter's cheeks and eyes sparkle with a type of fondness he hasn’t felt for anyone else other than the blonde in front of him. He had no idea such a simple gesture meant so much, he was just being himself. It sounds like a crazy concept.. someone liking him for him.

Before finding himself on this earth, someone having a crush on him, let alone seeing him as a potential romantic partner, would’ve been seen as a fairytale to him.

Fairytales are the only places where the handsome princes fall in love with the monster, after all.

“I thought– well, I still do – you were so sweet a-and I never had anyone think that much about me.”

Butterflies flutter happily in his stomach as a smile slowly grows on his face, listening to his boyfriend go on.

“And the setting, I guess. I always thought your hair and eyes were pretty, but there was something about how you looked in the moment, I think that was my clicking moment.”

Once Jonathan began to tip over his words, growing more and more awkward by the second, the Kryptonian boy clearly not expecting or prepared to talk about a rather emotional and personal subject, Gar pushes away from the edge and wades closer to Jon.

Grabbing the other’s hand, he relieves the blonde teen of his troubles. “You can stop talking now.”

Jon exhales in relief, “Okay, good, because I didn’t know where I was going or where I was stopping.”

Laughing softly, Gar lifts his hand from Jon’s where he’d been brushing his thumb over his knuckles and to cradle his face.

“Funny you called me the sweetest person you’ve ever met because I always thought the same about you.”

It’s the first thing he noticed, how incredibly sweet and caring Jonathan was, even to Garfield who then he barely knew. Jon didn’t let him sit outside all night by himself when people turning a blind eye to him is what he expects from others, he trampled all over expectations, and sat outside with him, offering his company and cup of fresh hot chocolate.

Much like the simple gesture Jonathan had just brought up, his simple act of kindness is what gave Garfield comfort and reassurance, what told him he was gonna be okay.

“It’s in my dna.” Jon smiled that goofy smile Gar loves so much. “Have you met my dad? He’d apologize if you spilled something on him.”

Gazing into eyes colored the coldest blue, rubbing his thumb over his partner’s cheek, affection stronger than he’s ever felt before sends a chill up his spine and infests his arms with goosebumps. This time, the moment doesn’t feel like it did at the Harvest Fest, time doesn’t slow down or blur away, there didn’t need to be an outside force causing a gravitational pull because they moved forward themselves.

Eyes close as contact is made, pressing his lips into the pair begging for them, locking together like a perfect match. Two puzzle pieces finally fitting. Hands tenderly cradle the other's face while he feels Jonathan place one hand on his cheek and its twin on the back of his head, entangling fingers in green hair.

The kiss deepens for a brief moment, and in that brief moment, a whole new type of feeling never experienced takes the shapeshifter over; a feeling with no name but could be described as drowning in what he assumes is love in its purest form. Pumping your veins full of sugary pink liquid and filling every inch of your body with sparkly glitter. The new feeling made him want to drop to the floor, lay there for a while and melt away into a puddle, and hold onto Jonathan tighter, keep him as close as possible, and never let him go, somehow both at the same time.

Instead of doing either, he pulls back and breaks the kiss to his own disappointment.

Blinking at Jon with wide, starry eyes, he says quietly. “I’ve never kissed anyone before..”

“I’ve never kissed a boy before!” Jon added, more enthusiastically.

Heart racing in his chest, cheeks dusted with red, Gar swallows and asks. “Do- do you wanna kiss again?”

“Oh yeah.”

Garfield squeaks out a tiny “ah!” through a beaming smile then giggled as Jonathan wrapped his arms around his torso again, pulling him closer and placing multiple kisses near the bottom of his jawline before moving back to his lips.

/

“Ah! Shit!–”

Jonathan’s walked this shortcut to town countless times, navigating through the woods rather than walking the roads, he knows what dangers to keep an eye out for. People following you, animals with sharp teeth and claws, poison ivy, the usual, but what he didn’t account for was mushy, unstable ground from the heavy rains that recently passed through.

And this lack of accountability is why he found himself slipping down a muddy slope and laying in the middle of the creek at the bottom of the decline, covered in mud and dipping with water.

A gasp enters the air, then a voice colored with worry comes next.

“Are you okay?!”

Jon takes an exasperated breath, staring up at the plain blue, cloudless sky. “Yeah.”

The sound of someone jumping down from the top of the slope shifts Jon’s focus to a large rock a couple feet away from where he lay. Crouched atop the dry surface, animalistic-like with arms forward and hands pressed against the stone keeping him supported, his green haired friend blinks at him with concern shown in his eyes.

That’s odd. Not the concern, but the way he’s sitting..

Oh well.

With a groan, Jonathan sits up and inspects his clothes. Fingers meeting many spots where fabric was ruined and stained by mud and muck from the creek, causing the teenager to cringe in disgust. There’s no need to investigate his face or hair, he could feel it all. The dirty mess done to both, mainly his hair that is definitely not styled anymore. Almost two hours in the bathroom for nothing.

Turning back to Gar, he laughs weakly and gives a crooked smile. “This is gonna be a real fun look in the store.”

They’re too far away from his house to trek back and change into clothes that’ll likely get dirty again anyway. Better to just clean off as well as he could, continue to the store, and pray there’s no one from his former high school shopping or laughter is guaranteed.

“It’s gonna be a great look for both of us.”

Jonathan tilts his head at Gar’s words. Before he can question why he mentioned them both, the green haired teenager hops off the rock and advances towards him, without any hint of hesitation laying next to him in the creek. Volunteering to be just as gross feeling at Jonathan.

For a heartbeat, all he could do was stare with mouth agape at the obvious gesture of solidarity, then lips stretch in a bright beam.

“Oh my god, dude.”

Garfield’s gaze flickers up to Jonathan, rings of brown with inner flecks of forest green warm with a kindness he couldn’t say he’s had aimed at him solely before and shining due the areas of sunlight able to peek through the gaps in the spacing of trees.

Lips part into a grin, creating a look Jon’s seen much more of lately. Garfield doesn’t smile a lot, doesn’t talk a lot, but when he does it’s utterly contagious. It’s so nice, so genuine and full of bubbly emotion. When a commercial for a new Animal Crossing game came on screen, he thinks that was the most excited he’s seen his friend so far, and actually got into a discussion with Jordan since his brother plays it as well. Jonathan doesn’t play any video games but from how happy Gar sounded, he felt pulled to join in the conversation too.

Speaking of contagious, his laugh. It has to be one of the most infatuating noises he’s ever heard, just as full of sunshine as the others. He remembers the way his eyes twinkled with surprise and stomach felt full of fluttering wings when Gar first laughed at one of his jokes, like true laughter, not a chuckle or snicker. It fit, almost like laughter is the most natural thing for him, as natural as a chirp is to a bird.

What else fit was how much his friend blended into the setting they were in. Jonathan couldn’t quite find the right string of words to perfectly explain it. As weird as it sounds, he looked right at home laying in a creek being surrounded by flora just as green as his hair.

Gar’s voice pulls Jon out of his head. “What?”

All of a sudden, Jonathan’s heartbeat sped up and could feel his face heating up. “Uh..”

He winces when the peacefulness of the moment is shattered by Gar gasping once more and thrusting his body up to a sitting position, scrambling to his feet.

“I’m in your clothes! I’m so sorry!”

“You are?..” Jon blinked in realization, then stood up next. “I mean, uh, it’s okay! It’s Jordan’s turn to do the laundry anyway.”

He gives Gar’s upper arm a swift but gentle punch and adds. “Seriously, it's fine. I appreciate the gesture, you sacrificing yourself for my dignity.”

As he expected, he doesn’t get a spoken response, just a faint smile and nod, but that’s enough to reassure Jonathan his friend knows he’s not upset.

“Come on,” He stretches an arm over Gar’s shoulder and begins to walk them both out of the creek. “I think we totally deserve some candy now.”

/

“Sucks though,” Hands interlocked as they walked down the hall together, Gar leaned into Jonathan. “Your story is so cute, and I can't remember when my crush formed.”

His brain makes sure to remind him of every and all negative experiences, those are somehow important to file, but it decided to throw the first time he formed a crush away. There must be a paper shredder next to the memory file cabinet.

Twisting his neck to look at Gar, the Kryptonian grins. “I'm just glad my amazing tiger plushie idea made ya realize.”

The couple stops their stride, both turning to face each other; Jonathan raising his free hand to rest on Gar's upper arm.

“Oh yeah, why?” Gar purred.

“Because I wouldn't be kissing you right now.”

Cheeks and ear tips flushing bright red, the shapeshifter’s purr grows louder, vibrating his chest and up his throat, when Jonathan moves his hands to hold his face and presses his lips to his.

Captivated by the moment, tender and personal, swearing nothing could end it, a scream echoes through the hall. This time, not from Garfield or Jonathan. It sounded more of surprise than pain.

The lengthy scream turns into a triumphant “I knew it”, and Gar chuckles seeing an unamused expression find its place on Jonathan's face, a very unnatural sight. Like a grumpy golden retriever.

“Finally!” Jordan exclaimed in mock exhaustion, throwing his hands up. “If I had to see you two acting all giggly and the obvious pining any longer I was gonna be sick.”

Blue eyes begin to give off a chilled white glow, Gar's one and only warning to step away unless he desires frostbite. Moving out of the danger zone, he watches a line of icy blue explode out of Jonathan’s eyes, aimed at the floor, near his brother's feet.

With a shout, Jordan hops away from the blast, then glares at his brother. “Watch where–” The rest dies in his mouth as he takes a double take at what was shot at the floor. “Is that ice? You have ice vision?”

Jon crosses his arms, proudly lifting his chin. “I prefer arctic vision but yes.”

The smile returns to Jordan's face, “When'd you learn that?”

“Yesterday. I almost froze dad.”

With a scoff, the darker haired brother flaps his hand. “We all do at some point… But heyyyyy..”

Stretching his arms out wide, initiating a group hug, Jordan advances towards his brother, causing Jonathan to back away and hold his hands out, waving them side to side.

“Oh no, no, no, Jor–”

Grabbing Gar's arm to pull him closer, Jordan wraps around both boys, trapping them in an inescapable tightly squeezed embrace.

“Congratulations, you two.”

“Thank you..?” Gar chuckled, looking to Jonathan for confirmation if this kind of reaction is normal.

After a sigh, Jon mumbles, “Just go with it.”

“So, when are you telling mom and dad?”

The smile promptly drops from Gar's face when the question causes Jon to suddenly look like a deer caught in the headlights and an orange glow to ignite inside his throat.

Notes:

Next chapter:
After a week of training and check ups, Jonathan is allowed to go home and finds out home looks a little different; all three boys decide they deserve day off from all the chaos and excitement of the past week and have some fun outdoors.

Chapter 20: The snow day

Summary:

After a week of training and check ups, Jonathan is allowed to go home and finds out home looks a little different; all three boys decide they deserve day off from all the chaos and excitement of the past week and have some fun outdoors.

Notes:

TW: bullying, implied child abuse

This chapter starts off all cute and fluffy then it plummets into angst so prepare yourself

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Mom! Mom! Please!”

“Just one more.”

In typical teenage fashion, Jonathan breathes a heavy sigh and lips curve into a fake frown of exasperation. They’ve been parked in the driveway for the past few minutes, Jon stuck in the passenger seat while his mom smothered him with hugs and questions, asking if he forgot anything at the fortress more than once; treating dropping him off at home as if he was moving into a college dorm.

Once the final forehead kiss is placed, Jonathan scoots towards the door and grabs onto the handle. “Okay, am I allowed to leave the car now?”

Lois put her hands up and nodded, “Yes, yes, I’m sorry,” she took a breath, eyes darkening slightly with a memory. One he’s sure is about him, but one he doesn’t remember. “I’m just so glad you’re doing better, sweetie.”

“I know,” Jon smiled, tugging the strap attached to the backpack, full of the essentials brought to the Fortress, higher onto his shoulder. “And me too.”

Even though he respects all the aid and work his family put into making sure his fire breath wouldn’t cause him to self combust, he hated being trapped at the Fortress. Hated that stupid blow up mattress, hated not having a proper bathroom with a mirror… the list could go on.

It reminded him too much of being stuck in the hospital, also known as the worst few months of his life.

“Just take it easy today, okay?” His mother said casually but he knows better, it’s really an order. “I’ll bring dinner home after work.”

“Got it. Love you.”

“Love you too, Jonathan.”

The door opens with a click, allowing a rush of cold air to collide with his once warm face and his breath comes out as a visible cloud, the young Kryptonian quickly finding out his home isn’t exactly the same as it was when he left.

As he exits the car, it’s not only the driveway’s gravel that crunches under his boot but inches of powered white. Blankets upon blankets of snow stretching across the entire property and further, glistening like tiny crystals in the cool sunlight.

His family has lived in Smallville for years and it hasn’t snowed once in November.. until now.

That’s what he gets for sleeping the whole ride home, missed out on seeing the early winter landscape on the way here.

Pausing on the porch, Jonathan sends his mother a “see you later” wave, one she returns. Once the car begins to back out of the driveway, the teenager progresses towards the front door and kicks the snow off the bottom of his boots before he enters. A rule towards any element (besides rain) stuck to your shoes.

You only drag mud into the house once.

A type of familial comfort washes over him, like a warm hug from a family member when you need it the most, something he greatly missed at the Fortress.

A simple hallway with an old wooden staircase instead of blank, colorless crystal walls and a living room through an open doorway full of not so new furniture, but any soft surface would be a guaranteed better sleep than that mattress. He prefers the cozy, farm look of his home much more than a place reminding him of a giant waiting room.. It felt like one too.

After shutting the door, he moves down the hall; towards the kitchen where he could hear music playing. And by the sound of the song, he could safely assume it’s Jordan.

Gar’s not really a metal kind of guy.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, nostrils are filled with the scent of the vanilla cookie candle his mom must have lit. A little decoration on the “you’re finally home” photo. And a more desired smell than salt water.

As he expected, it was Jordan in the kitchen, standing back to him at the sink and washing the dishes from whatever they ate for lunch. Completely occupied by the task at hand and blaring music to notice or hear Jonathan came home.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, lips pulling into a smirk, Jon haunches over and sneaks closer to his brother. Once at prime striking position, the younger twin jabs a hand curled into a claw into Jordan’s side and immediately breaks out into laughter when Jordan shouts and flinches so hard he about flies up through the ceiling.

Spinning around, the alarmed and somewhat pissed expression on his brother’s face quickly morphs into one of joyous surprise.

“Hey!”

Jonathan beams as Jordan throws his arms out and engulfs him in a ‘welcome back’ hug.

When the reunion embrace is over, Jordan releases and takes a step back. “I didn’t know you were coming home today, or are you just visiting?”

Jon shook his head, “Nope,” then pointed at the floor, “I’m staying here.”

“So, no more risk of exploding if you’re in the sun too long?”

Jon shrugs, “Grandma said I was in the clear.”

For a brief moment, his chest tightens with fear at the thought of his grandma making a mistake in her judgment, which sounds impossible since she was basically a usb plugged into his body for the past week through the Fortress’ tech, observing how he and his powers reacted to experiences through the day and night. Which, now that he’s thinking about it, sounds strange. But anything to not burn alive and become a pile of ash on the ground.

“And before you ask, because I know you are,” A smirk appears on Jordan’s face as he points his index finger up. “Your Mr. Loverman is upstairs.”

Smile dropping to a frown, Jon scoffs. “So funny, never say that again.”

Turning on a heel, walking towards the hall once more, he hears Jordan snicker and decides to pause in the doorway to add a quick: “also, jokes on you because I wasn’t gonna ask that” before scrambling up to his bedroom.

Reaching for the doorknob, his hand twitches and retreats, fingers curling into a balled fist to knock on the door instead.

Door code, he reminds himself.

Knocking two times and being answered with silence, which would normally be the green light to walk in, Jon decided to take an extra measure just in case.

“Hey, Gar, you in there?”

Only to be answered with silence again.

Slowly, the door is opened with a prolonged creak, and Jonathan pokes his head through the opening. Gaze immediately landing on Garfield, who was sitting on his bed with the usual snacks and drink at his side, back facing him and occupied - just like Jordan -watching a show Jon didn’t recognize on his laptop, and earbuds deep in his ears, blocking out all other surrounding sounds, making super hearing unusable.

Just like downstairs, mischief sparkles in his eyes and lips curve into a smirk.

Oh, this is just getting too easy.

Tipping his shoulder to the side to slide the single backpack strap off, sending the bag falling to the floor, Jonathan sneaks forward on light steps and crawls onto the mattress.

Quickly wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s torso like a venus fly trap snapping its jaws shut, pulling the shapeshifter back into a tight embrace, he places multiple kisses along the side of the other’s neck.

Gar, unfazed by the sudden affection, purrs in greeting. “Hi.”

“Aw, what!” Jon whined, setting his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder and pouts. “How did you know I was here?”

“I can smell you.” Gar replies, raising a hand to scratch behind his boyfriend’s ear.

Smile dropping, Jon blinks and brows furrowed in thought for a few seconds. “You can?”

“It came in the enhanced senses pack.”

“Oh..” An embarrassed grin curves the frown upwards. “Do I, ya know, smell good?”

He freshened up before leaving the Fortress, but guesses his mom’s car is old and kind of funky smelling.

“It’s more of an essence thing than a cologne thing.” Garfield explained as he shut his laptop and pulled earbuds out; giving Jonathan his full attention. “I don’t exactly know how to describe it. Everyone has their own unique scent and it tells me who’s who. Even if you and Jordan wore the same clothes and cologne, I’d still be able to tell you two apart without being able to see.”

“No offense, but that sounds awful. I wouldn’t wanna smell people’s genetic makeup.”

A faint blush colors the Kryptonian’s cheeks when his partner’s laughter enters the air, filling his ears with his favorite sound.

“What about you?” Pulling one of Jonathan’s hands from his torso, the shapeshifter rubs his thumb over the other’s knuckles, taking notice of the little to none nail polish remaining on his nails. “How’s the fire and ice business?”

Jonathan hums softly, “Fine, I’m just glad they’re stable. I missed home.”

And missed Garfield.

The plans were for Gar to stay with Jon through the entirety of however long his trip would be but a wrench was thrown in quite fast and things had to change. Due to there only being one mattress and not large enough to host two people, not that his parents would’ve allowed them to sleep together if it could’ve fit them both, Gar had to be sent home to sleep on a proper bed after finding out the recent shapeshifting had been taking its toll on his body. Leaving splotches of ill-colored bruising decorating his chest and back accompanied by muscles sore to move, bending an arm felt like a rusted water pump attempting to be used after years of neglect.

“This must be what happens when you change your dna and rearrange your whole body too much.” is what Gar told him through a reassuring smile as a way to ease the situation with a little humor.

Jonathan still couldn’t be left alone for safety reasons, prompting his father to take Garfield’s place. And it was nice, truthfully, having his dad around. Besides the occasional save, he was with Jon all day, every day. After years of feeling stuck in second place, nothing but Superman’s disappointment, having the man he felt left behind by standing at his side, a hand firmly placed on his shoulder, and eyes glowing brightly with the pride Jonathan desperately craved to see directed at him for so long.

A look Jon thought was long lost to his football days, when he’d see his father in the bleachers cheering louder than anyone else. Yeah, it was somewhat embarrassing, but he loved it nonetheless.

“But my grandma did surprise me with some.. Information.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve had a power my whole life, like since I was born, and I just-” Jon pops his lips and shrugs his shoulders. “Never knew.”

Which begs the question.. How did the scan his grandpa took of him years ago miss it? It’s a power he’s been developing and using since he opened his eyes, how could you possibly look over it by accident? Unless his grandpa didn’t and felt it wasn’t important to bring up since the power wouldn’t be as useful as his brother’s powers at the time. And Jon guesses he’d agree.

What is feeling if someone is sad to something as powerful as shooting lazers from your eyes?

It would’ve been cool to know back then, though.. Maybe he wouldn’t have felt so out of place.

“She said I could feel others' feelings,” Jon sighed, then chuckled faintly as he twisted his head to press his cheek into his boyfriend’s shoulder. “And I kind of feel stupid for not realizing it sooner.”

Gar huffs through his nose, shoulder bouncing slightly. “Yup, I thought so.”

“That I’m stupid?”

“No,” Gar purred. “That you could feel what I was feeling. And you’re not stupid, it’s not your fault no one told you until now.”

“True, but you’d think my folks would know something weird was going on when little me had random ‘panic attacks’-” He flickers up his hanging hands to put the word in air quotes “- in large, crowded areas also at random without any explanation.”

Gar hums in thought, “You got overwhelmed by too many emotions?”

Jon sighs, “Yeahh.. It hasn’t happened for a while though.”

They labeled it a panic attack due to overstimulation obviously, but he remembers hiding in the bathroom on the first day of middle school, locking himself in one of the stalls, curled in on himself and sobbing for he doesn’t know how long. Wanting nothing more than for the strange but horribly painful experience to end.

He felt awful in a way he never has before or since, like his brain was inflating inside his skull, creating the worst pressure related migraine that he’d never wish on anybody; not even a hated enemy. Ears were plugged and ringing so loud, it sounded like someone dragging thousands of fork prongs down a chalkboard. And the oddest part, to him, was feeling ice cold with goosebumps and hairs standing on end while somehow feeling smothered at the same time, which didn’t help the intense sensitivity of his skin. How the simplest of touches were like millions of cactus needles jabbing him.

How he didn’t pass out is beyond his understanding. He did, however, fall into the deepest of sleeps on the way home after the school called his mother and she picked him up. He practically slept through the whole rest of the day, exhausted in a way he didn’t know was even possible.

“Hey, guys!”

Voice entering the room, both boys twist around to face the speaker to see Jordan standing outside the open doorway, teeth shown in a bright grin, and holding a round, plastic sled against his chest.

“I see you two are busy, but-” The darker haired brother wiggles the circle sled in hand. “I found these in the shed earlier and outside is covered in snow.”

Eyes sparkling with excitement, Jonathan gasps and releases from the embrace. Removing himself from the bed, he advances to his brother to meet him in the hallway.

“Oh, I’m so in!”

His brother huffs a mini laugh, “Yeah, I thought you’d be.”

“There’s that huge hill near that elementary school’s playground, we should go there!”

Jordan nods in agreement.

With plans quickly set in stone, the two brothers turn their heads in unison to face Garfield; both sending him an eager grin and nodding their heads to the side as a non-verbal way of telling the shapeshifter to get up and join them.

After a sigh, Gar smiles and shakes his head. “Fine, but Lois banned me from shapeshifting until I fully heal.”

Getting up from his spot on the bed and dusting the cheez-it crumbs off his pants, he adds. “So, I can’t pull you guys around as a reindeer or anything.”

“That’s cool,” Jordan reassured. “We just want you to come along and join in the fun!”

Throwing an arm around his brother’s shoulder, Jon chimes in next, a lot more jubilant than his twin. “It’s still our job to show you how much fun a normal teenage life can be!”

Gar's smile grows. “And I’m grateful, I’ve never been sledding before! Kind of hard when you’re living in San Francisco.”


The rusty red truck comes to a halt, parking atop a hill in the somewhat makeshift parking lot with chopped tree logs as spot dividers and dirt instead of asphalt.

The trio of teens exit the vehicle. Jordan and Garfield climb out of the front seats while Jon hops out of the truck bed with the plastic saucers under his arms, unable to join his housemates in the truck due to the middle seat being too small. It could somewhat fit three people when Jon (and Jordan) were younger, Jon remembers being squished between his brother and father on trips back home from school, but it’d be impossible to fit three people now that they’ve grown quite a bit since fourteen.

Stepping forward, away from the brothers, Garfield peers down the hall and gasps when he sees a chain-link fence surrounding a school’s playground a couple feet from where the hill ends. Already disliking how high up they are, the fence they’d be destined to crash into at high speeds isn’t helping him see this as a good idea.

With a hard swallow, Gar shook his head, then turned around to face Jonathan and Jordan. “Ya know, when you guys said a sledding hill, I thought it’d be an open landscape and we wouldn’t smash into a fence!”

Jordan scoffs at the concern, waving it off with a hand flap. “You don’t smash into the fence at the bottom. You jump off before then!”

“It’s fun!” Jon piped.

Brows furrowing together in confusion to the upbeat responses, not seeing how throwing yourself off of a moving object to avoid crashing at full speed into a fence is fun, Gar blinked and moved a pointed finger between the brothers.

“You two are very strange people.”

“Allow me to demonstrate!” The darker haired twin announced, so Gar moves to the side and allows Jordan to walk past him with purple saucer in hand.

Going to stand next to his boyfriend, who unsurprisingly held an orange saucer, the shapeshifter watches as Jordan drops the sled at the edge of the hill and takes a few steps back. Eyes widen and jaw falls into a silent gasp when Jordan sprints towards the purple circle and hops onto it, sending himself down the snowy decline standing instead of sitting.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m doing this.”

A hand is placed onto his upper arm, keeping Gar from walking away.

“Dude, we don’t have to do it like that.” Jon assured. “It’s just easier to jump off that way, but I can stop the old fashion way.”

Gar sighs, “This would be better if I could turn into a penguin.”

This is the first time he’s been banned from using his abilities whenever he wants, it’s strange, but guesses he’s also never had people caring about his well being and safety before, so.

“If you don’t wanna join, that’s cool. Just wanted to give you an option.”

Lips curve into a brief smile after a quick kiss is placed on his cheek.

“School’s not in so you can hang out on the playground, if you want. Me and Jor will be over there in a minute.”

Taking a breath to calm his nerves, Gar grabs his boyfriend’s attention with a “wait” before he could disappear down the hill and goes on when Jonathan turns around to face him.

“I still gotta get down to the playground somehow,” His gaze flickers to the sled in Jon’s hand. “and I don’t really feel like testing my luck by walking down.”

Jon tilts his head, reminding Garfield of a confused golden retriever.

Breathing a mini laugh, Gar clarifies. “The sled. I’ll go down the hill with you.”

The blonde teen’s posture perks up. “Oh! Okay, sweet!”

Following Jonathan’s simple directions of sitting down on the sled and clinging onto his back, the shapeshifter couldn’t help nor stop the habit of the affectionate purr making his chest rumble.

How easily he forgot what activity he signed himself up for, getting lost in the familiarity of the unique scent drifting into his nose with each inhale, and pressed his cheek into the coat attached to the body he was leaning into. Happily enjoying the warmth radiating from the close contact.

Then Jonathan speaks up, asking if Gar was ready to go, and he’s reminded of what was going on.

“Yeah.” Gar said, voice muffled by his face being pressed into his boyfriend’s back.

At his side, he hears Jordan (who arrived at the top of the hill) direct a joke, comment, or something, Jonathan’s way but was too busy nervously anticipating the slide to make out what the darker haired brother was talking about. He did, however, catch Jon scoffing and mumbling “Like you would know, man” in response to whatever Jordan said.

And he didn’t get a chance to question what the brotherly jab was about, a squeak of surprise escaping his lips instead when Jon pushes off and sends them down the hill. Keeping his cheek pressed into the Kryptonian’s back, squeezing his eyes shut to combat the snow flying into his face, he couldn’t add to his boyfriend’s cheers of enjoyment, only stayed clung to him like a baby koala.

Prompted by the lack of movement and grip on Jonathan releasing as he stood up, Gar blinks his eyes open. Cheeks already red from the chilled breeze began to warm up, finding it somewhat embarrassing that he needed to prepare his nerves for a sled ride that lasted barely a minute.

“That was it?”

Jon can’t help but giggle. “Yeah.”

Huffing in annoyance aimed at himself, Garfield grabs onto the hand held out for him and is pulled up to his feet.

“Not super exciting, I know. That’s why me and Jordan do it the fun way.” Jon continues. “Sometimes a ramp is involved.”

“And you two have been doing this since you moved here?”

“Nah, I missed a few winters.” A smile appears on his lips when Jonathan reaches a hand over to ruffle the snow out of the forest of green. “We used to celebrate Christmas with our grandma, but we came a week in advance so we had to find something entertaining to do.”

Clark (and occasionally the boys) has told him about Martha Kent - his mother - before, while they’ve been working together on a house-related project. Those moments are always great fun, genuinely. Lending a hand whether it’s needed or not is something he enjoys doing and learning more about the Kent family while doing so is just a plus.

The way his heart expanded in his chest when Clark smiled and told him, “My mother would’ve really liked you. You guys have the same sense of humor” when they were finishing up and decorating the gazebo.

Everything he has with Clark, with Lois, is what he wished – he thought – he could’ve had with the Titans’ leader, but Dick never saw him as someone important enough to take under his wing and mentor. He was just the computer guy..

It’d be impossible for him to feel anymore glad that he’s seen as someone deserving of love and family here. A real family; not glorified roommates using the word as if they knew how to act like one. Newsflash, they didn't.

With a gentle punch to Gar’s upper arm, Jonathan steps past and starts his trek up the snowy incline. “See ya in a few minutes, Garf. I’m gonna see if I can convince Jordan to let me make a ramp with my arctic vision!”

A tiny snort of amusement comes from his nose, watching his boyfriend’s already failing attempts to scramble up the hill being hindered by Jordan blowing a gust of ice breath, making Jonathan justifiably snap at him.

Twisting around to advance towards the playground, Gar shouts over his shoulder: “Have fun with that!”

As much as he likes hanging out with Jordan, having siblings - especially a brother - is not for him.

Attached to a swing set much newer and cleaner than the set he and Jonathan swung on months ago, shiny silver chains rattle as the shapeshifter plants himself on the dark rubber seat, kicking at the dirt below his feet to push, letting gravity do the rest until another push is needed.

Taking a deep breath, filling his lungs with cold early November air, and exhaling the air in a misty cloud of warmth, Gar keeps his hands wrapped around the chains and leans back, tilting his chin up to feel the uncovered sun on his face. Letting the brothers shouting and laughter be the background noise, fitting the relaxed but joyful atmosphere perfectly.

He wasn’t counting the minutes, didn’t know how long it’s been, just decided to open his eyes to investigate why Jonathan and Jordan had gone quiet, catching the two disappearing into seemingly nothingness in a flash of superspeed when he glanced over.

There could be a million reasons why they supersped away so it’s probably best to not explode your brain trying to pinpoint the actual reason through picking out and throwing away the most logical explanations.

They’ll be back any second now.. at least he hopes they will be because once his enhanced hearing alerted him of the car pulling in and parking in the vacant lot, his fear-created habit to flee from anyone unknown to him without a trusted ally having his back kicked in as strong as usual.

But he forces himself to remain seated, jumping up from the swing to dart across the yard and leap over a fence to what he deems as a safe spot might.. just might.. be stranger than a teenager with green hair hanging out in a completely public place. Still, he’s praying to the gods whoever was in that car doesn’t try to strike up a conversation with him, mainly because he wouldn’t know what to say and end up tripping over his words like they’re a loose shoelace.

Shifting his attention between the car, which had a small group of teenagers of two girls and two boys exiting, and the area the Kent boys disappeared from, he felt his heart rate pick up in speed.

He saw a few teenagers accompanying grandparents during the dinner night he worked but none of these kids were them. Well, besides one. She wasn’t at the Center but does remember her. The girl with brown eyes and long dark hair that flowed over her zipped up, puffy lavender colored jacket.

It’s that girl from the bonfire. Candice, he thinks her name is.

As subtle as he could, he moves his focus between watching what the group was doing and looking elsewhere, trying his best to make it seem like he’s not staring at them for any weird reason.

“You!”

One of the boys he noticed was casting quick, more suspicious, looks his way as well progresses over.

Oh.. great.

Exhaling a breath of exasperation, expecting the direction this conversation was heading to before it even starts, Gar lifts his gaze up to the unrecognizable teenager; making sure the obvious unamused expression painted on his face tells this guy all he needs to know.

“I’ve seen you hanging around the Kent brothers. Who even are you?”

“I’m Jonathan’s friend, from Metropolis. I’m staying with the Kents while my parents are away on a business trip.”

Thanks to tagging along with Lois to the Community Center, he has some kind of rehearsed explanation to tell people when they ask him those kinds of questions, but didn’t think it worked by the doubting look on the guy’s face.

Crossing his arms, the teenager scoffs. “Yeah, that totally doesn’t sound fake as hell. What’s your name?”

And here comes the best part.

“Gar.” The shapeshifter mumbled, averting his attention away, hoping to see the brothers had returned.

Which they haven’t. So, no being saved from this interrogation disguised as a conversation he didn’t wanna be a part of.

The second guy breaks away from the girls and buddies up at his friend’s side, like a curious dog wandering over to investigate what his pal is sniffing at.

“Gar?” The other guy asked, tone colored more with humor than confusion. “Isn’t that a fish?”

Gar sighs, shoulders deflating and hands slide down the swing’s chains. “It’s short for Garfield, actually.”

The taller guy begins the laughter Gar has been waiting for. “Seriously! Like the fuckin’ cat?”

Then the one who walked over first joins in on the amusement aimed at his poorly chosen name. “Dude, your parents must have hated you!”

After another exhale, he rolls his eyes and rubs the side of his neck. “I mean, yeah, I guess.”

Marching across the asphalt of the basketball court, abandoning her friend, Candice grabs the taller teen’s wrist and tugs at him. “Guys, come on, leave him alone.”

“Nah, nah, we’re not bugging him. Just trying to figure out who he is.”

Funny, because Gar sure finds this whole interaction as bugging him. He answered the questions as truthfully as he could be. What else do these kids want from him?

“Did you fall out of the sky or something?”

Gar blinked slowly, then responded as uninterested as possible. “No, I didn’t. Like I just said, I’m from Metropolis.”

The second guy leans his head a bit to the side and crosses his arms, “How come wherever you go, Kent follows? Or is it the other way around?”

Why is he still sitting here? There’s nothing stopping him from getting up and walking away. It’s more than justified now, who cares if they think he’s strange.

This is why he should always listen to his gut.

Eyes narrow into a glare. “Does it look like the other way around to you?” He growled.

The guy said something back but Garfield didn’t listen to whatever it was. A chill ran up his spine and the uneasy, haunting feeling of being watched settled in, making goosebumps appear on his arms.

Powers are ringing the “watch your surroundings” alarm now. This is legit.

Ignoring the two teenagers and twisting around to peer across the snow covered open field behind them to the strips of woodland, he tilts his head up to sniff the air. Enhanced smelling catching a very specific scent he last remembered picking up near those mines. It’s not as strong, but knows for a fact it’s that smell. A smell he couldn’t find the right words to describe however as it didn’t match anything from his earth and only ran into it once here without finding the source.

Tapping into the rarely used enhanced sight, taking a careful and detailed sweep of the treeline, green eyes widen and a quiet gasp is inhaled when a bush’s branches are pushed to the side as if someone was walking past it all on its own.

A low growl sounds from deep in his chest. It doesn’t like to be watched.

In front of him, the boys giggle to each other and one mouths “freak”, before reaching for and laying a hand on Gar’s shoulder.

Big mistake.

In one swift motion, the shapeshifter whips around to combat the threat with eyes lacking any color besides neon green and sharp teeth bared in a loud animalistic snarl. Grabbing onto the teen’s forearm with a grip so quick it could rival an alligator’s jaws snapping shut on its unsuspecting prey, he pulls the target forward and leaps up from the rubber seat, the chains rattling aggressively as the teenager is thrown into the swing and drops onto the wood chips below.

Two pairs of eyes were round like a couple of terrified owls, unmoving from Garfield and the heavy, growling breaths coming from a mouth full of daggers. The taller boy puts his arm out in front of Candice and backs them both away from the sight they couldn’t find themselves tearing their focus from.

Never turn your back on a predator, never break eye contact, that’s their green light to attack.

The teen in the wood chips scoots in the opposite direction to create distance, pointing a shaky finger at Gar and screeches: “Wha- What the fuck are you!”

After emitting an animal-like groan and shaking his head, heavy breathing ceases followed by eyes regaining their normal appearance. Seeing a group of teenagers, all with expressions of pure horror aimed solely at him, in the place of heat signatures made panic immediately dig its claws into his heart, pumping blood so fast through his veins he could hear it rushing in his ears like raging rapids.

Swallowing the lump in his fear-tightened throat, his voice shook as he tried to apologize and tears formed on his eyelids. “I- I- I’m so sorry! I didn’t- I was trained, I–”

The remaining words clumsily tripping out of his mouth died before they could be finished, being cut short by the sound of the fence jingling so violently you’d think a large guard dog was climbing over it as quickly as it could.

“Hey!”

Gar couldn’t help but freeze where he stood when the voice broke into the moment. Not because he was afraid but because he’s never heard Jonathan like that. It’s quite a shock. The tone he’s used to hearing: soft and sweet, full of bubbly energy, has been replaced by a type of aggression he didn’t know Jon was capable of. It’s like a snarling wolf just stepped out of an unzipped labrador retriever suit.

Marching past Garfield, an uncharacteristic scowl on his face and rolling his coat sleeves up, Gar watches with jaw hanging as Jonathan storms up to the teenager next to Candice and grabs him by the sweatshirt collar, tugging him forwards until Jon was practically screaming in his face.

“What the hell do you think you were doing!”

Not far behind his brother, Jordan stops at the swing set to snicker at the boy still on the ground. “Hi, Malcolm.”

Malcolm glared, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Fuck off, Jordan! You and your freak squad!”

After one last laugh, Jordan leaves Malcolm where he lays and moves towards Gar, blinking in concern when he notices how zoned out his friend looked.

“You good, man? These assholes didn’t hurt you, right?”

Blinking out of his trance, Gar turned to Jordan. “Huh?”

Jordan places his hand on his upper arm. “Are you okay, man?”

A weak smile appears on his face for a heartbeat, giving the shorter brother a simple “yeah”. A heaviness sets in his chest, attention shifting from Jordan to Malcolm attempting to stand up on shaky legs with a hand wrapped around the area of his opposite forearm Gar grabbed onto, then to Jonathan who’s in a shouting match with his former schoolmate and Candice, she’s staring at him like she couldn’t believe - or didn’t want to believe - what she saw.

Eyes darkened, anger twinging in his chest. He's tired of seeing, experiencing, the same situation over and over again. Here, he thought it could be different, but he’ll never break the cycle. It happens every. single. time.

“I’m gonna–” He takes a breath, “I’m gonna go to the truck.”

—-

The truck door slams shut.

Sliding into the front seats, the shapeshifter pulls his legs up to his chest and wraps his arms over his shins. Breathing heavily through his nose, he places his face between his knees, attempting to curl in on himself like an armadillo.

It’s a reaction. He did it on his earth too, after stressful situations that have the ability to trigger certain memories to resurface, one’s he’d rather forget, push to the back of his brain and ignore. Shut down, block the world out. Just sit here, ride the waves, and it’ll pass.

But it’s hard..

And he’s mad. Gods, he’s so mad. Not at those teenagers, not at the Kents for having to be his saviors, at him and how easily he can lose control, be taken over and harm whoever is unlucky enough to be near him.

It should not be that easy.

Years, he’s tried to learn control, keep his abilities on a short leash, but nothing seems to work. It’s all pointless at the end of the day. His powers do whatever they want and he cleans up the mess they caused afterwards, then it happens again. And again. And again.

Sometimes he wishes there would be a clone made of him with the only purpose of being a punching bag, to have its face beat in, let Garfield take out the self-hatred festering inside him for so long on it, punish it for merely existing and everything it’s done to him…

Except, it didn’t do anything to him, did it?

He’s not at fault for what happened, he didn’t ask to be this way and couldn’t protest against the decision either. If this rage should be targeted at anyone, it should be Niles Caulder. If anyone deserves to have their face pounded into the pavement until their own mother couldn’t recognize them, it’s Caulder.

He’ll never forget how it felt to see himself in the mirror for the first time, after Caulder altered his body and appearance. After a new Garfield Logan was created.

That’s not the part he wants to focus on, though.

The hands he could still feel on his shoulders, fingernails digging into his flesh through the thin, blood stained hospital gown he wore; claiming Gar as his creation, someone new to control, just like the others who lived in that manor. The dread, the utter disgust, and sudden hopelessness that set heavy in his chest, the way his stomach twisted and made him want to vomit onto the lab floor when he looked up to see the face of evil. The toothy grin beaming with pride, not proud he saved Gar’s life from a deadly disease, proud he made something he deemed as perfect. Eyes hollow with darkness, soulless pits lacking any empathy or guilt, just the same sickening pride as he observed Garfield like he was nothing more than a trophy he won.

A single tear ran down his cheek as Caulder lifted a hand to gently brush it down the side of Gar’s face and whispered: “You, boy, are magnificent”.

The truck door opens.

Bringing his face up from his knees, wet cheeks stinging from the cold air, Gar blinked the blurriness from his eyes. As he suspected, Jonathan was standing outside, his usually bright blue eyes clouded with worry.

Gar sniffled, then opened his mouth to talk but couldn’t squeak out a word, only a tiny noise sounded. He rubbed the side of his now clawed hand over eyes, puffy and red with tears, and took a shaky breath, watching Jonathan climb inside and sit across from him.

The blonde teen stays silent, but reaches for the hand beginning to turn green and grow fur.

Gar gasps at the action, jerking away from his boyfriend and shouts. “No! I- I don’t wanna- I’ll hurt you.”

Jon shook his head, lips in a deep frown curve slightly upwards. “You won’t.” He whispered.

Gar sniffled again. After a minute of hesitation, a shaking hand is interlocked with Jonathan’s, fingers intertwining and palms pressing into each other’s. Heartbeat finally started to slow down, letting the shapeshifter catch his breath and breathe at a normal pace, focusing on the calming warmth that radiated from simply holding hands, overflowing his senses with a kind of compassion and affection he found only Jonathan could give him.

Now that the rush of emotions have died down, leveling once more, he’s exhausted. Weak, drained, like someone sucked all the energy out of him. Allowing his body to relax, he goes limp and falls forward, wrapping his arms around Jonathan as he presses his face into his chest, holding the blonde teenager close, drowning in the positivity he brings just by existing, just by being himself.

He feels Jonathan place a kiss to the top of his head, then tighten his side of the embrace.

“You’re not a monster, Gar. You’ll never be.”


“Sir,”

The others weren’t joking when they said standing in General Lane’s office felt like stepping into a cage holding a starved lion, completely valuable with no protection or weapon. The atmosphere is thick, uneasy, dangerous, as if the room had a weighted blanket chalk full of the worst vibes possible covering it.

The General’s gravelly but somehow eerily soft voice entering the air, adding to the already threatening environment, makes the teenager wince as a sharp chill runs up his spine.

“I hope you’re here to tell me what I want to hear, Harris.”

The metahuman soldier straightens his posture. “Yes, uh, the target has been located.”

“And?”

“You were right, he’s with the Kents.”

Tag swallowed hard when the chair slowly spun around, revealing the wicked smile stretched wide across his face, a major contrast to the somewhat sinister tone he just spoke in. Maybe that’s why it’s so terrifying to look at.

There’s something being held in his hand as well, but Tag couldn’t find an identity to it. By the long string hanging off, he guessed it had to be a necklace of some sort with the part the General was holding tight in his palm being a flat crystal colored a very bright purple.

“I’m impressed. I knew I could use your newly formed invisibility powers for this mission.” The unsettling grin fades into a scowl. “And I knew my family was lying to me.”

After clearing his throat, Tag asks very carefully. “Purely out of curiosity, sir. What are you planning to do?”

The teen’s heart skips a beat when General Lane’s expression hardens, eyes narrowing into a glare so sharp it could pierce flesh. “That’s classified information, Harris.”

Tag nodded, then pointed his gaze at the floor. “Right. Forgive me.”

The General Lane thankfully leaves the stupid question at that and excuses the soldier with a flap of his hand. “You can return to your dorm now. Thank you for your assistance.”

Tag dips his head.

The chair squeaks faintly as the General turns back around and Tag finally could breathe easy again. He didn't screw this up, just delivered the information he was assigned to gather. It feels good, able to execute the plan as well as he could and even earn praise from one of the most ruthless, coldest people working here.

With head held high and chest puffed out, he matches towards the door, pausing before he could twist the knob to exit when General Lane adds one more thing.

“Oh, and tell Anderson I need to speak with him. It's important.”

“I will.” Tag assures with a new found confidence shining in his eyes. “Right away.”

Once the door shuts, Sam's gaze drifts down to the necklace in hand. Uncurling the protective grip he had on the crystal, the previous grin reappears on his lips, watching the object begin to glow and cause bolts of purple electricity spark inside like a miniature electrical storm; casting a purple light onto the General's eyes twinkling with a dark excitement.

“I can't contact the Upside Down without him.”

Notes:

Next chapter:
Jonathan's flying lesson! Does it go well? or does he crash into the ground? You'll have to wait and see.

Chapter 21: The flight

Summary:

Jonathan's flying lesson! Does it go well? or does he crash into the ground? You'll have to wait and see.

Notes:

This was one of those "I need it to be perfect" chapters which is why it took a bit longer and I've been busy this month too, I didn't get a lot of time to work.

And I asked my friend to help me write the flying scene, so all credit goes to them and the wonderful draft they wrote for me. Thank you Parks ❤️

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“I’m so excited!”

A rare loud and cheery Jordan’s voice sang through the kitchen, accompanied by hands tapping onto the wooden island. The Kryptonian equivalent of a dog happily wagging their tail.

“I’ve never been so excited in my whole life!”

Shoulders bouncing with a huff of laughter, Jonathan attempts to respond with a “I can tell” but the words come out muffled and incoherent instead, being thwarted by the pill balanced on his tongue as he snatched a bottle of water from the fridge.

“This is gonna be so great!” Jordan cheered. “I’ve always wanted to fly with you! It’s totally been on my bucket list.”

Taking a large gulp of water, the sunnier brother raises an eyebrow at his twin’s unnatural jubilant demeanor. Lowering the bottle from his lips, not intending to drink the rest; only needed something to swallow a pill, Jonathan reminds of what their grandmother told him at the Fortress.

“Uh, we don’t know if I can even fly. Grandma said my powers aren’t like dad’s.”

Jordan sighs, “Come onn..” Then throws a hand out to gesture to Jon. “You do have dad’s powers. They’re swapped, but still dad’s powers.”

Eyes narrowing slightly, Jon combats against the statement. “Feeling people’s emotions isn't a dad power.”

Losing the smile to a frown, Jordan tilts his head. “What’s the issue, man? You’re normally the optimistic one here.”

Eyes darken as they dropped to focus on the bottle cap he was twisted back and forth. “I’m just.. ya know.. from yesterday.”

“Oh.. right.” Jordan straightens his posture, diving his hands into his shorts pockets. “How is he, by the way?”

Jon shrugs, “I think he’s okay. He went to work with mom again.”

“Crud. He’s not gonna be joining us then?”

Returning the bottle of water to the fridge and pushing it far over to the side on the middle shelf (where opened bottles go so no one else drinks them), Jonathan answers with a flat “nope”, lacking any other type of emotion behind it.

A ding sounds from his pocket, prompting Jon to pull his phone out and inspect the cause for the alert, though he had a strong guess of what it might be. Suspicions are quickly confirmed when he clicks his phone on, lighting up the photo of he and Gar he took while at the Harvest Fest, and a new message with a link attached is present on his lock screen.

Leaning back against the countertop, supporting himself with one hand and using its twin to hold his phone up for his brother to see.

“But he’s been sending me cat reels all afternoon, so I’m hoping that means he’s fine.”

He didn’t get to talk to Gar that much yesterday evening. When they returned home, Gar kind of disappeared until showing up later to eat and go to bed; rarely talking during dinner and not even saying goodnight, just crawling under his cover and going dead silent.

Jon’s instincts wanted to comfort his partner and try to talk out what’s bothering him, it’s in his nature to make sure the people he loves aren’t in any pain, whether emotional or physical, but didn’t give in last night and left it alone, even though it took him a few minutes of debating with himself. Somewhere in his brain, he knew people need to process things on their own. And if Garfield really wanted to talk about it, he would have spoken up or gave Jonathan some kind of sign to let him know he wanted company.

He hears Jordan throw a word of reassurance his way but didn’t tune his full focus onto his brother as he was too busy watching the cat video and replying, not only to the video but informing his boyfriend what was happening today just in case he and Lois beat them home.

A lack of attention Jordan must have noticed because right as Jonathan hits send, a mild gust of ice breath is blown into his face, making Jon wince and lift a hand up to wave away the cold air.

Jordan crossed his arms. “I hope you’ll be able to pay attention to the lesson because flying is pretty hard to do when you’re not giving it your everything.”

Not appreciating the ice breath, Jon narrowed his eyes into a glare, and mumbled. “I’ll be fine.”

Then returned his phone to his pocket.

He can totally pay attention.

“Oh, and before we go, you gotta change into something lighter.” Jordan added, uncrossing his arms to wiggle a finger at Jon’s choice of outfit.

Dropping his gaze to observe his clothing and not seeing anything wrong, Jon gives his twin a head tilt and blinks in confusion, explaining that he dressed for the weather at the Fortress.

Which makes his brother snort in amusement and reveal that they weren’t going to the Fortress, they were going to the area their father taught Jordan to fly, and saying it’s warm would be an understatement.


When they landed, Jonathan quickly realized Jordan wasn’t over exaggerating about the heat. It’s boiling, the stone under his feet might as well be hot coals and the afternoon sun burned any and all exposed skin. Dreading the serious case of sunburn he’s going to find himself cursed with once this day is over.

If he can get sunburned, that is..

Jordan didn’t give him their exact location, but by the types of trees and other flora surrounding them from behind, clustered together in a little, sort of, jungle, he assumed it was somewhere he’d only see on cruise boat commercials. And the ocean on each side, stretching out into seemingly foreverness, just confirmed it.

Jon being captivated by the sights, Jordan split and jogged to join their father.

A smile of nostalgia creeps onto the teenager’s face as he approaches his dad, who was standing near the edge of the rocky cliff, back turned to the boy walking over, hands in shorts pockets and head tilted back. Their father always did enjoy the sun on his face

Standing at his dad’s side, Jordan exhaled through his nose. “Ah, I remember when I first jumped off this.”

Clark stretches an arm over to pull Jordan into a side embrace. “And it was one of the best days of my life.”

Jordan breathed a chuckle, then looked up at his father, eyes squinting to combat the sunlight shining onto his face.

“Me screaming that I was gonna fall to my death was the best day of your life?”

Clark shook his head, keeping the signature Kent smile stuck curving his lips upwards. “The teaching you to fly part. The true best day of my life is everyday, being with you guys, my family.”

“Wow, that was cheesy, dad.” Jordan cringed.

“Guys!”

In reaction to Jonathan’s shouting, the father son duo turn around in unison, two very different expressions finding home on their faces upon seeing Jon balancing on one leg and holding the other up, examining the heel of his foot.

“I stepped on something sharp!”

Jordan rolls his eyes at his brother’s dramatics while Clark huffs a sound of amusement before narrowing his gaze, tapping into x-ray vision to check on his son’s foot, and the results are what he expected.

No signs of a harmful impact or bloodstream injected with toxins.

“You’re good, buddy!”

Jordan chimes in next with a comment colored with exasperation. “You probably just stepped on a rock, dumbass.”

When Jonathan finally made his way – his very carefully placed stepped way - over to his waiting family members, Clark placed his hands on his sunnier son’s shoulders, eyes locked with his and sparkling with a mixture of pride and excitement.

“Ready to fly?”

Jon gave him an unsure smile. “As ready as I can be, I guess.”

Casting a glance over his shoulder, he adds. “Are you gonna fly me around until I can do it myself or?”

Jordan averts his gaze elsewhere, giggling at the question.

Clark clears his throat. “Uh, well, no..”

Then feels Jonathan tense up under his hands as he begins to guide him towards the cliff’s edge.

“You’re gonna jump off.”

“What!” Jonathan screamed. Jerking away from his father’s hold and taking a shaky step backwards, blue eyes - wide and wild with a sudden rush of panic - shift between his father and brother. “Are you crazy? I’m not jumping off this!”

Jordan raises an eyebrow. “You jump off that cliff at Bear Creek Falls with no issue?”

“That- that is not this tall!” Jon argues, voice cracking. “An- and there’s no rocks at the bottom to be impaled on!”

Clark frowned. “I’m not gonna let you be impaled, Jon. I’ll catch you.”

Hoping to ease some of his son’s - understandable - fear, the man jumps into an explanation of Jordan’s flight lesson, adding bits of detail here and there, where he thought they could be some extra reassurance.

“It’s all about feeling and thought.” Clark said, pointing up an index finger. “Thinking what direction you wanna go, feeling the air carrying you; riding it like a bird. Following the breeze will help you turn smoother, too.”

“Just don’t think about the ground because you will fall.”

Clark sends the older twin a quick glare for the comment. It was true and just some brotherly teasing, but it’s not helping the matter in the slightest.

“That-” Jon swallowed hard. “That sounds complicated.”

Clark huffed a mini laugh, lips stretching into a smile. “I can promise you, it’s not.”

He goes on, “After you fly once, the second time will be much easier, then becomes easier and easier as you keep practicing.”

Powers always seemed to have some kind of side effect, a consequence of sorts. Everything comes with a price. Heat vision, super strength, indestructibility, they all have downsides; some more serious than the others. Except flight, it’s been nothing but fun, truly his most enjoyable power. Running your hands through clouds colored like cotton candy as you fly over them while the day is becoming night. An experience you couldn’t beat.

Earth has always been so beautiful to Clark Kent.

Jordan jumps in again, this time with a positive. “Once I flew for the first time, I never wanted to stop! It’s like being on a roller coaster but so much better!”

The hesitant expression on Jonathan’s face twitches and Clark could make out a hint of courage sparking in his eyes behind the swirl of thoughts and debates.

“It almost felt natural, ya know?” Jordan steps over to his brother, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze and shake. “Like how birds are meant to fly. We are too.”

Looking to his brother, thankful for the words, Jonathan flashed him a smile and nodded.

Sucking in a deep breath, the younger twin stands up straight and stretches his arms, bending his elbow and using each opposite hand to pull the arm towards his body, then moves on to shake his limbs to give them a quick loosen.

A familiar grin, confident and proud, appeared on his face as he sent a fist into his palm.

“I guess, if I can become the best player on my team, I can do this too and rock it.”

“Yeah! Now that’s my brother talking!”

Jonathan huffs, rolling his eyes to the side, when Jordan raises a hand to ruffle blonde curls, then lowered the same hand to give him a light push forward.

“You got this! Go kick ass!”

At the edge of the cliff, the death grip he has on what optimism mustered up slowly begins to trickle away, the echoing sound of waves crashing into the gathering of large stones, seemingly - and threateningly - pointed up at him, reaching his ears from who knows how far below made a lump of fear form in his throat.

Taking one last glance over his shoulder, he sees his father nod then mouth a “I’ll catch you” while Jordan puts two enthusiastic thumbs up.

Inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, a feeble attempt at calming the anxiety causing his body to shake but was better than nothing in his mind, Jon gave the sides of his face a couple slaps, shook his head, then stepped off.

At first, he felt nothing besides the rush of wind crashing into his face; making it hard to open his eyes. No fear, no joy, no nothing, almost like his brain was lagging behind him and couldn’t process the current situation.

It would’ve been much more preferable to stay that way because once his brain finally caught up and settled back into his skull, he got an intense reality check. Everything his father told him minutes ago must have leaked out of his ears in the fall, leaving an empty void to be filled up with literally anything else and anything else ended up being pure horror, plus the image of becoming the marshmallow to the rocks’ roasting stick.

Flying was the last thing he’s doing, he couldn’t even remember why he was falling in the first place either. Screaming and flailing around like a cat in a bathtub, trying to grab onto non-existent items to stop the whole ‘plummeting to your death’ thing.

As expected, in the panic and horror, his life flashes before eyes. The most important moments to him flickering by like a projector switching between photos: The first time he remembers being able to recognize Jordan and their parents, when he threw a football and became the team’s star player, moving to Smallville to have his life be turned upside down in many ways than one, spending years isolating himself in his room after making the biggest mistake of his life, then an oddly colored storm appearing and spitting out a dude with just as oddly colored hair.

And his future? Wet sand in his hands, slipping through fingers and breaking apart, crumpling, before it got to be put together, to create something.

He’s never gonna find a job, get married, or have children. He’s going to lose his life before he ever gets to officially start it.

“Jonathan?”

The wind has stopped, replaced by his own heavy breathing and pounding heart.

Eyes snap open to be greeted by a more than comforting sight: his father, instead of the cold gray ocean with harsh, roaring waves.

Frown of concern deep on his face, Clark asks. “Are you okay?”

Logically, yes, but he’s not playing with logic right now. He was ninety-ninety percent sure he’d be dead a few seconds ago.

Staring, unblinkingly, at his father with round eyes, Jonathan opens his mouth to respond but forming coherent words weren’t in the cards; a tiny squeak noise came out of his mouth instead.

Clark hums, “That’s what I thought.”

All of a sudden, Jon was seven again and his dad was carrying him to his bedroom after falling asleep on the couch, but this time his dad was flying and Jon was being carried to the cliff’s edge because his soul felt like it ascended from his body, leaving him a shaking, terrified, mess.

Returned to stable ground, Clark crouches slightly to make it easier on his son to remove himself from the hold and find his footing. It’s appreciated but Jon doesn’t stay on his feet long, having to sit down since his legs felt like a bowl of jelly and would give out if he tried to walk or stay standing.

“Give your brother some space. We’ll try again when he calms down.”

Chest heaving deep breaths, Jon leans over and places his face in his hands. “I just saw my entire life flash before my eyes.”

Listening to their father’s command and keeping a respectable amount of distance, Jordan takes a seat a few inches away from his brother.

“Yeah, mine did too. You’ll do better the second time.”

He did not do better the second time.

Or the third time.

And by the seventh time of falling rather flying, Jon wasn’t scared anymore; just annoyed and frustrated.

Jordan caught him by grabbing on his ankle, which was a bit more painful than being caught in arms. Lips in a grumpy pout and arms crossed, it’s somewhat humiliating if he’s being honest, being dangled under his brother. He felt about as useless and helpless as a piece of prey hanging from talons.

Carefully, Jonathan is set down in the same spot again.

Breathing the heaviest, most exasperated sigh he could manage, Jon remains lying chest down on the ground with his cheek pressed into the hot stone, not giving a single care about how badly it burned.

It wasn’t until his father’s voice entered the air did the young Kryptonian (if he could be called one) shift his attention from staring into the void to his family members, listening in on what he assumes is supposed to be a private conversation but neither were doing a great job at being quiet.

“Maybe my mother was right, Jon doesn’t have powers like us.”

Jordan doesn’t spare any time thinking about that reality, immediately protesting against their father’s statement, even if he went a little over the suggested volume. “No, no, no! Just give him some more time, I know he can do it!”

“Jordan, flying is the easiest power to awaken. By your third time, you were flying.”

Well. That hurt.

Guess his father forgot it took him a few extra years after his brother for his powers to fully form.. then again, his powers aren’t in the same realm as Superman’s and are backwards for some reason, so maybe his father does have a right to think he won’t be able to fly.

And he’s tired of being reset just to fail over and over.

But..

One of Jonathan’s biggest strengths (and sometimes flaws) is that he never figured out how to give up. The option had never been available to him. He’d been taught to win and to get that trophy through the blood, sweat, and tears of hard work. Failure and defeat weren’t in his vocabulary.

And it’s when people are expecting him to give up does it fuel his will power even more, his need to prove others wrong overrides everything else. Tell him he can’t do something? That’s just gonna make him want to do it more and keep doing it until achieving what others thought he couldn’t.

Plus, when have things ever been easy for him, anyway?

So, while his brother and father were huddled together a couple feet to the side, conversing as if he couldn’t hear them, Jonathan took a controlled breath and got to his feet. He’s going to fly whether his father believes in him or not. Jordan is right: they’re Kryptonians, they’re made to fly.

Eyes narrow into a glare, taking a search of his surroundings. Peering out over the ocean, determination ignites in his chest when his gaze lands on a mess of rocks a few football field lengths away. That’s where he wants to go. That’s the end zone, and all he has to do is reach it, then he’s the winner.

It’s about thought and feeling, he reminds himself. Keep your focus on those rocks only.

Taking somewhat of a runner’s stance, he mouths a short countdown to one, then breaks into a sprint. He hears Jordan shout something in reaction as he runs past, but stays hyper focused on those rocks. Even when he leaps off the cliff, he keeps his sights solely on the destination, no time to care about the fact that he’s falling. He’ll be caught if his idea doesn’t work.

He fell with grace, ignoring the panic attempting to sneak up on him out of instinct, and instead, kept his mind on the airy feeling under his arms and the rocks he needed to reach, an exhale of breath being let out as he relaxed. His father’s words stuck like fly in a web, a reminder he’s not planning on forgetting anytime soon: use the wind as an advantage, similar to how birds use wind currents to glide.

He can do this. He believes in himself.

He stayed focused as he continued to fall, eyes pointed at the cluster of rocks. I wanna go there. I wanna go there. I wanna go there.

In a split second, it felt like someone tugged him forward with such strength and aggression it rivaled being dragged behind a speeding truck, leaving him unable to catch his breath.

Wind crashing into face, he kept his eyes closed and hands were drawn up to protect his face from the sudden (and strange) appearance of tree branches and vines. Speaking barely audible “ows” as the many flora smack into and scratch his hands, and some areas of his head.

Once the magically appearing jungle disappeared and open air breezed through his sunny curls, Jonathan lowered his hands and cracked open one of his eyes to investigate, then opened the opposite eye a moment later seeing he’s been greeted by his reflection looking up at him, face being gently splashed by the water he was kicking up flying so low to its surface.

Wait.

He’s flying.

Jonathan Kent, son of Superman, was flying.

He wobbles a bit, stretching his arms out to balance, before letting out a laugh of disbelief mixed with genuine joy. He reasonably felt a twinge of nervousness, but felt his body go fuzzy with excitement at the same time. Jordan was right about it feeling like a roller coaster.

Bringing a hand down, he skims the tips of his fingers across the cold blue of the waves beneath him, leaving ripples in its wake, drawing out a sparkling rainbow ring in his line of sight from the misty water catching the sunlight.

A beam so bright and wide it made his face hurt drops into a frown, the child-like joy falling into apprehension and fear as he reached the destination of rocks and zoomed past it. Lips parting into a silent gasp, Jonathan glanced behind him, watching the rocks grow farther and farther away with each passing second.

And the realization hits him. He has no idea how to stop.

In a frantic attempt to set the brakes in motion, he goes with the first idea thought up, which is far from the best one but his anxiety flooded brain couldn't create another nor did it care. He shoves his hands into water with as much force he could summon and his body instantly flips forward, the action sending the alien boy skipping and skidding across the water like a flat rock.

The world around him turned into a blurry, dizzy mess for what felt like forever until finally colliding with the ocean and sinking under the water, too disoriented to swim up to the surface, but luckily for him his father is Superman.

It’s not as humiliating this time. Being plucked from the ocean and returning to the cliff for the eighth time. At least he succeeded- kind of.

Someone’s gotta teach him how to stop because getting tossed across the water’s surface like he was nothing but a pebble is painful. For now, indestructibility isn’t one of his powers, and could imagine how amazing being sling-shotted into the pavement would feel, flopping along the road as you get thrown downtown faster than a nascar.

“Yes!”

Being soaked from head to toe must not have been an issue for his brother because once Clark released Jonathan from his hold, Jordan dashed over with super speed and embraced Jon in a celebration hug, squeezing as tight as he could without harm.

“See, I told you you could do it!”

Pulling away, but keeping his hands on Jon's shoulders, Jordan practically jumped in excitement as he went on.

“Do you wanna go again? I'll fly with you this time! I can teach you how to turn and stuff!”

Jon smiles at the enthusiasm he rarely sees from his brother. “Yeah, sure.”

Flying was fun. Really fun. And now that he knows he can do it, he wants to do it again. The wind (and the heat) will dry him off, too, so he doesn’t need to worry about that.

His expression hardens for a heartbeat. “As long as one of you two grab me when we're finished. That flopping around was, like, far from enjoyable.”

Jordan nods, “Deal.”

“Alright, you know it's my turn for a hug now.”

Happily obeying with a hint of laughter, Jordan steps back and Jonathan breathes an ‘oomf’ when his father wraps his arms around him, lifting the teenager a few inches off of the ground in a super hug. A hug that's funny to him now that he's almost as tall as his father and can see over his head when lifted.

“You did so great! You were always my little shooting star!”

Eyes widen, not at the compliment, but at the nickname he hasn’t heard since he was a little kid. His father would cheer from the bleachers, calling Jonathan his shooting star when he'd out run the opposing team and scored a touchdown.

“Thanks. Though, I kind of screwed up at the end.”

Ending the embrace, Clark backed up and shook his head. "You can't fail at something no one taught you to do." Then reminds his son, smiling proudly. "Plus, your goal was to fly and you did."

Jon pouted in agreement, nodding his head to the side. "True."

But he still wants to be a lot better next time.

"And if you're not too tired after racing your brother, there's somewhere I'd like to take you."


It’s during times like this Jonathan finds himself grateful his body was immune to the freezing touch of winter. The fire circulating throughout made it impossible to react to the drastic change in temperature.

Hand running across the translucent blue crystal wall, the teenager’s gaze couldn’t pick out what to focus on first. The room he entered was full of objects big and small, on marble pedestals, protected under glass domes. And even more curious, to his right, is what looked like his father’s previous super suits lined up and under the same dome as the rest, just larger and longer.

“Whoa,” He breathes out a cloud. “What is this place?”

“I call it an archive.” Clark replied.

Abandoning his son’s side, the adult wanders over to one of the first domes and waves a hand over a specific area of the glass. The motion is followed by a noise that sounded like it came from a sci-fi movie and the glass disappears, allowing his father to grab the polaroid photo that had been floating inside to hold and observe.

“It’s where I keep everything important to me.” A smile warm with nostalgia pulls at the side of his father’s lips, his thumb rubbing carefully over the photo. “Things from my childhood, things from our planet that landed here.”

Jon tilted his head at his father’s choice of saying “our” instead of “my”, then upon giving it a second thought, realized the change was for him. Krypton wasn’t only his father’s planet, it’s Jonathan’s too. He wasn’t born there, sure, but it’s where his family came from.

And something about being included in the Krypton talk made him happy.

Appearing at his father’s side, he catches his smile, looking down at a photo of his dad, who couldn't've been no older than six, standing between Martha and Jonathan Kent– the man he’s named after.

Jon huffs a small noise of amusement, seeing the same merry expression glowing on his dad’s face even as a kid. Guess being optimistic and cheerful truly is natural to him.

“This was my first Harvest Fest.” Jon shifts his gaze to his father when he feels a hand land on his shoulder, eyes locking with rings of blue much darker than his. “It was one of the best, most fun days of my life.”

Jon could say the same thing. Obviously not the “first” part, but what came after it, yes.. well, the end of the night wouldn’t be described as best or fun– whatever. That wasn’t the important part.

Over his dad's frame, a sparkle of green catches the teenager’s attention. Another type of crystal glistening in the sunlight reflecting into the room. Seems like green is the main thing grabbing him by the reins over the past few months, and it’s not a complaint.

While his dad is occupied putting the photo back, Jonathan moves closer to the clump of crystals. Its identity becomes clear when reached and an instinctual fear takes over, making the teenager want to cringe away, but fighting against a strong sense of curiosity is something he isn’t too good at.

He lost count of all the scars on his body he obtained from falling and crashing while trying to pull off a stunt or an exploration gone wrong.

Green shines bright in Jonathan’s blue eyes.

“Is this..?”

“Kryptonite, yes.” Clark grabs his son’s upper arms and begins to guide him elsewhere. “And I’m gonna need you to stand away from it.”

“Why do you have the stuff that can kill us in your fortress?”

“To be studied. Kryptonite reached earth many years before your grandpa knew it existed.” His father explained. “I have all known variants here.”

Jon blinks. “There’s more than green?”

“A whole rainbow of colors, actually; all affecting us in different ways. There’s some here Sam has no idea about.”

And here Jonathan thought green was all he had to worry about. How many of these color types can harm him.. or worse? And how common are these colors? Do they pop up everywhere? Could a random person be wearing a purple kryptonite crystal on a bracelet without knowing what it is and Jon will drop dead in aisle ten?

“I don’t know how any of these will affect you, so for your safety I’d stay away from all of them, but especially green and red.” Clark paused for a heartbeat. “And Periwinkle..”

“Periwinkle?” Jon laughed. “What could that even do?”

It sounds so silly and non-threatening compared to other colors that kryptonite could’ve been named after, like violet or scarlet or even midnight blue. They would give off somewhat of a dangerous vibe. He couldn’t think of what affects a color as soft and calming as periwinkle might have.

But his father is lumping it together with green, and he knows for a fact green is deadly, so whatever periwinkle does must be just as bad.

Clearing his throat, Clark pats the top of his son’s head and answers with a simple “another time”, putting an end to the discussion before it could really start, then strolled over to the line of super suits, calling for Jon to come over and join him.

“These are every suit I’ve used or almost used.” His father said once Jon stood at his side, gesturing to the many suits fitted over mannequins with a sweep of his hand.

Eyeing each suit as he passes, Jonathan halts at the beginning of the line up and stands in front of the glass dome. Tilting his head, the boy’s eyes are drawn to a certain area of the old but nicely kept suit. An area that’s not this vivid in color and noticeable on the other suits.

Jon twisted his head to look at his father and pointed a finger at the cause for humor. “Dad?”

“Hey, your grandma made me that suit.”

Jon nods. “I get that,” Then grins, followed by an eyebrow raise, “but why did she put the underwear on the outside?”

Why would you wanna draw attention to there of all places? Not to mention how goofy it looks, like wearing a pair of short-shorts over jeans.

Clark chuckles, diving his hands into his coat pockets. “It’s not underwear.”

Jon huffs and puts his hands up. “Alright, whatever you say, but it sure looks like it.”

Interesting.

As he’s giving the suits a second, more detailed look, he notices the aspects about the suits most changed were the shade of red used and the shield on the chest as a whole. A few suits had the symbol important to his family’s heritage designed differently, but kept it recognizable enough to be seen as Superman’s classic symbol to the people he aided and saved.

It was always the S that got designed to be a different shape and the shield part stayed the same most of the time, he noted.

Other than little changes here and there to areas most people wouldn’t even bat an eye at, all these suits were the same. Guess when you’re as well known world-wide as his father is you can’t experiment with more colors and designs. They all had it in common, simple with the same color scheme: blue accompanied by red and hints of yellow.

Well, all suits besides one, and Jonathan felt it had some kind of gravitational pull on him because he caught himself glancing over to it often. It was the suit that stuck out to him the most, the one that caught his eye, the moment he entered the Archive room.

The colors, the design, weren’t like the others. It’s like someone wanted to create a suit that went off the blueprint of what a Superman is supposed to look like and made their own thing with it, while making sure it still looked Superman-ish enough to tell others who it belonged to, to reassure that the person wearing it was on their side, here to help humanity.

He couldn’t find the correct words to describe it at the moment other than it was Superman but at the same time it wasn’t.

The shield design was a copy of the one his father wears now except the yellow background is much cooler in color with a pinkish undertone and the S is more of a wine red. The cape, slightly longer than the Man of Steel’s, is definitely pink instead of red. He doesn’t know color names very well but knows it’s some kind of pink. Rose pink is all he could think of.

The chest and sleeves of the suit are still blue, just duller and colder than the iconic Superman blue, with diamond shapes on the shoulders colored a darker, more navy blue that were the color of the bottom half of the suit as well. The boots and gloves were the same shade, but added a few areas of white. White that is most prominent on the V shape above and across the hip area, acting as a fake belt and a separation for the two blues.

Eyes stuck gazing at the unknown super suit, Jon puts a hand on the glass and asks when his father used this one.

“Never did.” Clark steps over to stand at his son’s side. “It was an idea for the future, really.”

“It’s cool.” Jon smiled.

There’s a brief second of silence before his father speaks again. “Oh yeah?”

“I like the colors,” Jon said. “They’re so not you. No offense.”

Clark huffs a mini laugh. “None taken.”

Jonathan didn’t know why, and couldn’t find a reason why, he felt a connection to this suit; like somewhere deep down he knew it was for him, made purposely for him to use someday. Destined to throw on the cape and wear his family’s symbol with pride, follow in his father’s footsteps of truth and justice.

Or, maybe, he’s overthinking this whole thing and just thinks the suit is badass. No more than wanting to try on a jacket you think would look great on you. It’s not as deep as he’s making it.

What he does know is that something, a feeling he couldn’t quite decipher, sparked inside him when the suit’s shield placed itself perfectly in the middle of his reflection’s chest.


By the time flight training and trip to the Archive finished, the sun began its descent to allow darkness’ take over.

His mother’s car is sitting in the driveway, a sight he never thought would make his heart giddy with excitement, but it does. And on the top porch step sat his mother, enjoying the fresh air of the remaining evening, with a journal on her lap and tapping the eraser end of a pencil against her jaw.

He throws his mom a quick and lackluster “hey” as he ascends the few stairs, mind focused on something- or someone - else entirely. He can talk about his day and go into detail during dinner. If Jordan didn’t already tell her, that is.

Lois reaches out to grab her rushing son’s hand and stops him dead in his tracks. “Hey, sweetie, how’d your day go?”

Obviously antsy, Jon tries to be as polite as possible. “It was cool.”

Pulling his hand from his mother’s, he continues on his way and adds a “I’ll talk at dinner” before shutting the front door behind him.

When Jonathan disappears inside, Lois sends her husband a curious look that asks the question without having to speak it. A question Clark responds to with an honest shrug.

The living room is the first room he checks out when entering the house, mainly because it’s right next to him, and feels a faint pang of sadness mixed with disappointment when it’s Jordan who’s chilled out on the couch and flipping through the channels.

Though the feeling didn’t stick around long, Jordan noticed him standing in the hallway and pointed up, telling him Gar was upstairs in his room playing video games and it’s all he’s been doing since he got back.

Jonathan nods, and makes his way upstairs.

Reaching the top step, the noise of whatever video game his boyfriend was playing echoed into his ears rather than speech or music. Advancing down the hall, he stops at the open doorway and peeked inside, frowning when he sees Gar’s back turned to him and lounging in his brother’s black beanbag, attention solely on the racing game displayed on the flat screen, he didn’t even seem to know Jonathan was standing behind him.

Which sounds crazy because he recently learned Garfield could sense when others were around by scent and his ears aren’t covered so his enhanced hearing would've picked up on Jonathan entering the house– or him outside.

Is he purposely ignoring him? If he was, then it had to be out of fear because of what happened with Malcolm since every other reason he could think up wasn't in his boyfriend’s character to do at all.

Maybe Jordan’s, but not Gar’s.

Opening his mouth to say something doesn’t work out, he couldn’t find the right words to start the conversation, and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t know what the conversation should be about. Doesn’t wanna make it about him and his training, that might come off as him only caring about his day and not Gar’s, but he also doesn’t wanna blurt out something stupid and make Gar uncomfortable because he’s not ready to talk about how he’s feeling.

Damn. His previous relationships weren’t this complicated–

Maybe because they were less relationships and more two kids in school dating just because they thought each other were cute, lacking any kind of emotional connection and chemistry, besides both enjoying common things.

Even with slight complications, he unsurprisingly prefers his relationship with Garfield over the relationship built on nothing he had with Eliza, but what did you expect from a thirteen year old?

Thankfully, thinking about relationships made an imaginary light bulb flicker to life over his head, and he slinks away to his bedroom. Walking over to his dresser, he snatches his phone from the folded shirt he left it on top of. After unlocking the lock screen, he opens his messages with Gar and types out a question that’d be less out of place coming from a text. Asking it out loud randomly when strolling into Jordan’s room without greeting first, and with no build up, might come off as a little bit strange or awkward.

[Remember how my powers ruined our date? That sucked. If you’re up for it, do you wanna try again tomorrow?]

Then he waits, staring at his phone screen, until those three dots appear and his heart flutters with anticipation.

[yeah 😁]

A toothy beam stretches across his face at the response and goes to delete what he had been typing for an answer when the three dots reappear.

[also, just a question]

More dots.

[why are you texting me this? you were standing behind me like a minute ago]

Even though Gar wasn’t physically standing in the room, that didn’t stop embarrassment from coloring his cheeks red as if he was.

Relocating his phone to his back pocket, Jon exits his bedroom and returns to where Garfield was playing video games. Stepping into the doorway, a quick laugh tears out of his mouth, looking at his boyfriend who was leaning backwards in the beanbag, blinking up at him with sparkling eyes and a smile that revealed both sets of fangs.

“Why’d you disappear?”

Jon exhales, rubbing the side of his neck. “I didn’t know what to say, and you didn’t say anything, so.”

“Sorry, I was waiting for you to say something, and when I went to say something you were gone.”

“Oh.”

Raising an arm to hold up a second controller, Gar purred loudly. “Wanna play two players?”

“Sure.”

Progressing into his brother’s room, Jonathan took a seat in the dark red beanbag next to the one his boyfriend sat in; wincing slightly at the contact, the leather-like material pressing his shirt fabric against the spots of his body that got aggressively slapped from becoming a skipping stone earlier.

He takes the controller handed to him. “You do remember that I’m awful at games, right?”

Gar sends Jonathan a playful smirk. “Oh, yeah.”

It’s gonna be a guaranteed win for Garfield. Even if Jon was somewhat good at video games, Gar would still kick his ass. He couldn’t understand how someone kept their focus so intensely on a game, it seemed and sounded unbelievable. After a bit, he gets bored (or attention gets caught by something else) and moves on to do whatever else.

A couple minutes into Jonathan not being too bad at the game but still getting destroyed by his boyfriend’s years of gaming skills, he flickers his gaze to the side when Gar spoke up with a question instead of another good-natured joke.

“So, how’d your flight training go? Did you fly?”

“Kind of,” Keeping eyes on the screen, Jon shrugs. “I did for a few minutes before crashing into the water, then me and Jor– Aw, shit.”

Gar giggles at the mishap that earned a casual curse from Jon, then suggests. “Maybe you should wear a life jacket next time.”

“Probably should, who knows what was in that water.” Jonathan pauses, brows furrowing in thought, wondering if he should voice the words in his brain. “How was your day?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his boyfriend's relaxed posture shift into something more tense.

“Good,” Gar said, not much emotion behind his voice besides the usual. “Crissy brought cookies so I ate those while watching videos on my phone. I helped your mom organize some stuff, too.”

The game is put on pause.

“And, uh, just so you know,”

The young Kryptonian’s heart starts to speed up, face flushing a light pink when a hand is placed above his knee, then shifts his attention from the game to his boyfriend, gazing into brown eyes warm with affection and reassurance.

“I’m okay.”

Notes:

Next chapter:
Gar and Jon finally go on their first date, yay!

Chapter 22: The date (part 1)

Summary:

Everyone is silly. There's not much angst, just fun stuff. GarJon goes on the first half of their date yippee! Hopefully everything goes well once their date is finished.

Notes:

*runs in, throws the chapter at you like it's a basketball, then runs off without any explanation*

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

A bicycle comes to skidding halt, sliding to the side, tires ripping up dead grass and soggy late autumn leaves. An old leaf rake is swiftly brought up to aim accusingly at the shapeshifter perched up on a tree log that’s fallen in-between a small creek area, using the daggers attached to the ends of his fingers to keep himself from falling down the sideways surface by piercing them into the log’s rough bark.

“You, big, scary dragon-man!” Jonathan exclaimed, “You know what I’m here for!”

Smirk on his lips, Gar’s pointed ear flickers and he nods his head backwards, “Your brother, I’m guessing.”

From somewhere behind the fallen log, Jordan’s voice chimes in, not as in-character as the other two but that was to be expected, it's not like he really wanted to be a part of this; just inserted himself into the ‘play’ because he wanted a break from raking leaves.

“It’s about time my brother showed up to save me!” He adds in a quieter volume, “Even though I could easily save myself.”

“Your flimsy weapon doesn’t scare me.” Gar scoffed at the non-threatening sight of a leaf rake with rotten wooden prongs pointed at him, then detaches his claws and launches off the log, landing perfectly on the ground below without sign of a stumble.

Jonathan swallows, taking a couple steps back, wet leaves squishing under his boot; not daring to take his focus off of the shapeshifter advancing closer. Green eyes glowing in the shadows of the woods locked with blue eyes shining in the afternoon sunlight.

At the other teenager’s hips, fingers are curled in and flexed out, showing off claws. His lips curve into a devilish grin, baring a mouth full of sharpened teeth. A true beast of a boy.

“You have no idea what I really am.”

The apprehensive expression on Jon’s face disappears, something more confident and cocky taking its place.

“Actually,” Refusing to break eye contact, he tosses the leaf rake to the side and holds his hands up, “I’m not here for my brother.”

The intimidating appearance suddenly morphs into confusion, “You aren’t?” Gar asks, eyes losing their green glow and claws retracting back to fingernails.

“Yeah, he isn’t!–” Jordan cheered, before pausing and rethinking what his brother said, “Wait..”

Climbing onto the tree log, the older twin glares down at his brother and hisses in offense, “Why aren’t you here for me! I’ve been taken!”

After an eye roll at Jordan’s outcry, Jonathan snaps back into character and steps towards Garfield. Blinking eyes sparkling with affection, he stretches out a hand palm up to gesture to the metahuman standing in front of him.

“Because I’m here for him.”

Speechless at the change in script, Gar’s jaw snaps shut and eyes widened, cheeks warming up a rosy pink. Ears perked up, not only at Jonathan’s actions, but Jordan’s loud, annoyed groan of “oh my god” coming from behind him.

Tossing an imaginary cape to the side, the sunnier brother drops to one knee and takes one of Gar’s hands, gazing up at the shapeshifter with such deep fondness you’d think Gar hung the moon and stars for him personally.

“Ever since you broke into my kingdom to steal my brother, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Oh, uh,” Gar clears his throat, trying to stay somewhat in-character and not melt into a puddle of green goop, “Yes, I stole your brother in hopes of catching your attention and bringing you here.”

“Well, it totally worked.”

Gar’s chest explodes with a very audible purr when lips are pressed to the back of his hand.

After a gag of disgust, Jordan slides off the log and mumbles: “this is so much worse than mom and dad” as he goes to retrieve his leaf rake from where he left it.

Gar laughed softly, “I’m starting to think this isn’t a part of the script.”

With a huff through his nose, Jonathan gets to feet and confirms, “It definitely isn’t.”

Lifting his hands to cradle his partner’s face, the alien boy leans forward and connects his lips with Gar’s.

“Hey, prince charming! Dad is coming this way!”

Immediately jerking away from his boyfriend, a short scream sounds from Jonathan when he trips over his bike, falling backwards onto the ground - still damp from rain - with a leg caught between the bike’s bars.

Appearing over him, Jordan snorts, “Oops, that was a scarecrow being put up. My bad.”

Gasping, Jonathan’s hands instinctively shoot up to protect his face when his brother drops the rake he tossed away onto him.

Losing the humor, the older twin commands firmly, “Get back to work,”

Walking away to start creating the next pile of dead but colorful leaves, Jordan adds: “unless you want mom to have our heads for not finishing the one task she asked us to do.”

Pulling his leg out of the bicycle’s bars, grumbling as he stood up, Jonathan attempts to brush off the muck smeared onto his outfit, then directs a sharp glare his brother’s way.

“I don’t understand why we’re cleaning up the yard like this when we could be using our powers.” Jon throws his hands up for emphasis, “Without them, this is gonna take all day!”

Their yard isn’t your average yard, it’s a property. It's land for farming. It’s huge.

You’d think when Smallville had that freak snowfall, it would have taken care of their messy yard problems, but all it had done was make everything wet and sloppy, including most of the leaves. Thankfully, the sun is out today, high up in a vivid blue sky without a cloud in sight, and some parts of their swamp of a yard is a tad bit drier than it had been in the early morning. It’s not warm enough to do much more than that, however.

Jordan rolls his eyes, “What are you gonna do? burn the yard?” The rake in his hand is lifted to be poked into Jon’s chest, “or are you gonna feel the leaves' feelings?”

Inserting himself into the moment, Gar steps in-between the brothers, setting a hand on each of their shoulders, “Hi, boys, let’s not fight, yeah?”

“We’re not fighting.” Jon assures.

Eyes narrowing, the older twin asks, “Remember last time we goofed around and used my powers to finish a task faster?”

“I do, but–” Taking a sweep of their surroundings, Jon shrugs, “I’m not seeing dad’s car anywhere near us to accidentally launch into the air this time.”

Wide brown eyes look to each brother, “I’m sorry, how do you launch a car into the air by accident?

Holding eye contact with Jon, Jordan gestures to Gar with a point of his thumb and warns rather nonchalantly, “We could launch Gar into the air.”

The shapeshifter’s ears flatten out as he retreats his hands from the boys’ shoulders and steps back, “No, I’m good!”

Frowning when Jordan suggests he let the idea go and to start working before they lose any more of the day, Jon turns to his boyfriend with eyes darkened with disappointment and begins to apologize for another ruined date day, admitting he had no idea his mother would assign them chores, only to get cut off by Gar holding a hand up and telling him to shut up with the apology.

The sudden change in demeanor makes Jon go quiet and stare, obeying the command. Eyes follow Gar as he moves closer; a hand is brushed against his shoulder and cheeks flush pink when his boyfriend whisper’s near his ear.

“Who cares if Jordan says no, we can do whatever we want, right?”

Jon clears his throat, “True, but I don’t have super speed.”

“No, but I can be any animal I want to be.” Gar slides his coat off and tosses it to Jon, who catches it without casting the piece of clothing a glance, “I’m sure I can think up an animal to help out. I’ve done it before.”

Oh, that’s right. Jonathan’s gotten so used to the recent status quo, he almost forgot his boyfriend was the one for fun if it could be involved somehow. He’ll do the job without a complaint and even enjoy it, of course, but isn’t against spicing it up with some entertainment either.

Everything has been so focused on Jon lately, it’s nice for things to return to their special kind of normalcy. Ya know, the adventures of two Smallville teens living their super mundane day to day. No more of this life endangering powers and nights being ruined by outside forces crap. Back to small town activities. Jonathan missed that and bets Gar did too, the universe has been hitting them the hardest it seems.

They need a break.

Tying the coat around his waist, Jon proposes the animal should be able to blend in as to not raise suspicion if someone drove by.

His boyfriend flashes him a smile, “Yeah, good idea.”

Gar in the process of shapeshift preparation stretches, the sunnier teenager hums to himself and looks around their property, wondering what he could do to lend a hand. He doesn’t want to make his boyfriend do everything. When his gaze lands on the barn, an idea pops into his head.

“My dad has some kind of huge rake-thing that attaches to the tractor in the barn, I probably could do something with that, and with your help, we’ll have the entire yard cleaned in no time!”

“Are you guys serious?-”

Shenanigans are put on hold and two pairs of eyes turn their focus to Jordan, exasperation clear as clean glass on their fellow teenager’s face.

“-You can’t just do this normally?” When the two respond by shaking their heads, shoulders droop and he sighs in defeat, “Fine, I’ll use a little bit of my power to make this go faster, but only because I don’t want you two to do whatever you’re planning.”

Gar tilts his head, “Can I still turn into an animal?”

Jordan blinks, confused why he’s being asked for permission, “Sure?”

After a swift but thorough search of their property, making sure there were no on-lookers to accidentally catch a glimpse of spectacular abilities that are supposed to stay hidden to the world– when attached to their identities, that is. Revealing powers is only allowed when you have a superhero persona to hide behind, for safety reasons.

That’s one upside to living out in the middle of nowhere, it’s not often a single soul is wandering around, and makes using powers to speed through chores much easier and less stressful. In blur, accompanied by the whooshing sound of wind, a few large piles of leaves are made in different areas of the yard and Jordan blinks back into existence at his brother’s side.

“Are you happy now?” Jordan frowned.

Jon combats it with a grin, “Very.”

While the older twin is giving orders, explaining how they were going to properly clean up the piles without making a mess, a moose with a thick, dark green pelt exits the Kent family’s barn and lumbers towards the boys.

Huffing loudly through his nostrils, Gar bent his head down to nudge the top of Jonathan’s shoulder with his nose, the action causing Jon raise a hand and pet the bridge of the moose’s muzzle. He must have been expecting another type of animal, something not so big, because after he casts him a quick glance, he snaps his head to the side and stares wide eyed up at the moose form.

“And Gar can take the bags to the road once they’re full. Good?”

Attention back on his brother, Jon laughs, “Good.”

Gar exhales another heavy breath in agreement.

With a plan set in stone, the Kent brothers get to work of filling trash bags full of leaves and handing them to Beast Boy, who holds them by their tie loops on his antler ends and trots to the edge of the road, setting them there to be picked up by the garbage collector early the next morning.

The process is repeated many times and temporarily put on hold one time when Jordan ‘accidentally’ pushed Jonathan into what could be described as the grossest pile made. Gar just stood and watched, ear flicking at the laughter mixed with exclaims of disgust; not understanding the dynamic of brothers. Guess you gotta have one to understand why they think purposely making the other one mad is amusing.

Honestly, it’s getting a tad bit annoying. Butting heads is all the boys have been doing since they went outside.

When there’s only a handful of bags left, the brothers haul them to the roadside themselves while Garfield sticks at Jon’s side, changing his form from a moose to an australian shepherd along the way.

“It only took-” Jon groans as he swings the bag over his shoulder, tossing it onto the mountain of others, “-four hours, but I guess that’s better than all day.”

Jordan disagrees with his brother’s statement of it taking all day without powers and Gar’s intentions of growling at what might turn into another pointless argument is stopped by the older twin adding how cool it was to see a moose in real life, adding a joke about how he’s seen more wild animals in their house than he has in a zoo.

There’s a hint of fear in Jonathan’s chuckle, “Walking into the kitchen to see a boa constrictor hanging from the ceiling beams has gotta be one of the strangest things I’ve seen.”

All bags neatly tied and left at the roadside, the group of boys head back for the house.

Jordan shoves his hands into his coat pockets, “What’s the others?”

“Well, one of them is you, obviously,” Jordan rolls his eyes at the jab, and Jon continues, “and the other is that pegasus.”

Ears flop to the side when Gar tilts his head. “This universe has sea serpents and pegasus? Must be more magical than I first thought. How come I haven’t seen one yet?”

The green dog flinches when Jordan sounds a loud “ughhh”, like someone reminded him of an embarrassing memory he’d rather forget. The darker haired twin drags his hands down his face, revealing a deep frown of irritation in place of the previous curious expression.

“Oh my goddd.. dudee.. I thought you finally forgot about that!”

“No, why would I?”

“Because it was just a horse and you were twelve with an active imagination.”

By the flat, uninterested tone of Jordan’s voice, the brothers’ have definitely had his conversation before, and way more than once.

Jon crosses his arms, “Whatever, believe what you want, man. I know what I saw.”

Whining, Gar bonks his head into Jon’s leg, and when the blonde teenager sends him a head tilt, he barks and nudges him again as a way of asking him to elaborate. It’s not a surprise that Jonathan understood what he was asking, they learned how to communicate with each other when Gar’s in animal form, but somehow Jordan knew and wasn’t a fan because he protested quite fast.

“No! Don’t feed into his nonsense!”

Ignoring his brother’s objection, Jon begins a story– or memory– about when he and Jordan were staying with their grandmother for a couple weeks in the summer, and during a game of hide and seek, Jon wandered too far; finding himself off his grandma’s property and in an area he’s never seen before. From behind a tree he remembers seeing a horse with jet black fur walk into his line of sight, something he didn’t think much of in the moment since many people in town have horses that could get loose, but it was when he attempted to get closer he noticed near the horse’s shoulders were a pair of feathery wings it unfolded and fluttered while bending its head down to feed on grass.

“I would have tried to get even closer but then I felt like I was being watched and I got a type of headache I’ve never gotten before. It went away by the time I got back to grandma’s place, though.” Jon pauses, brows furrowing in thought, “I think I had a creepy dream that night, too.”

Jordan shook his head, “You won’t believe in ghosts and monsters, but a pegasus? Sure, yeah, makes sense.”

“Because I saw the pegasus. Were you even listening?”

Hopping up the porch stairs, Gar hesitates at the doorway, looking over his shoulder past the clean yard. Ears pin back, the brothers’ voices fading away and hearing picking up on another noise. It’s barely above a whisper, a soft melody carried along the breeze. Like some sort of siren song, the hum filled his ears and brain turned fuzzy. Staring at nothing, his paw twitches, the song in his brain telling his leg to move and step forwards, follow its invisible trail of sound.

“You comin’ in?”

Jonathan’s voice shatters the hypnotic melody and breaks Gar out of his trance. After giving his head a shake, Gar shifts his attention up to Jon lingering in the open doorway, holding the door open for him. Sending the boy a bark as a “yeah”, the shapeshifter padded into the house.


Music emitting from a phone’s speaker fills the small room up with songs from a specific playlist full of favorites that are a go-to for music listening, a mixture of a bit of everything, but types of pop and instrumental appeared the most. Mainly songs to do a little dance to if you’re feeling it, and you are because it’s almost impossible not to.

Wiping a foggy mirror clear with a hand towel he snatched from the hamper, followed by swinging it open to grab a few products hidden inside it, Jon places the chosen ones on the sink’s counter surface. Instead of using a comb, he runs fingers through the damp curls to untangle whatever got tied together in the shower, then plugs in the hairdryer’s cord into the nearest outlet. Just a few out of the multiple steps in his process of making sure he looks as perfect as possible.

While he always puts a lot of effort into his appearance, this evening was extra special; he and Gar are finally going on that date, and he has to look extra special, as well. It’s not everyday he gets to go on a date with the man of his dreams.

The opposite of Jonathan, Garfield sat in the middle of the shared bedroom, legs criss-crossed and observing the couple of outfit options laid out on the floor. Normally, he’d go for a classic combo of a t-shirt and ripped jeans (with a coat or hoodie) when leaving the house, but this evening deserves an outfit with more importance. The problem is he doesn’t have many fancy clothes and doesn’t wanna wear the same outfit he did to the Harvest Fest.

“Jordan!”

There’s a whoosh sound and the dark haired twin himself appeared outside the room.

“Yeah?”

Gar looks over his shoulder, “I’m going on a date with your brother, and I need to know which outfit you think he’d like the most.”

Crossing his arms, Jordan leans against the doorway, “Wouldn’t that be more your thing to know what my brother likes?”

“I guess so.” He frowns for a moment before chuckling faintly and scratching the side of his face, “I suck at picking clothes, though.”

The floor creaks as the teenager behind him enters the bedroom. Standing over Garfield, Jordan’s lips pressed together in a hum, looking between the outfits. Pointing out the shirt and plain gray hoodie in the middle, he suggests it be paired with the dark jeans and earthy-colored plaid coat from the left outfit.

Thanking the older Kent twin for his input, Gar grabs the clothes and gets to his feet; stepping in the direction of the dresser to return the clothes not being worn tonight.

“I’ll brave the bathroom for you and grab the cologne he’s obsessed with, too.”

Closing the dresser drawer, Gar laughs, “I thought you didn’t know what Jon liked?”

Advancing towards the hallway, Jordan lingers in the doorway and scoffs, “I only had five minutes to myself before he showed up and I’ve been stuck with him ever since, it’d be impossible for me not to know what he likes.”

Razor in one hand and the other placed on his cheek, the alien boy stares at his reflection, debating whether he should shave what he does have of a beard off or not. On one hand, it’s itchy and his hands constantly get poked when he touches his face, but on the other, Gar seems to really like the look if all the times he brushes his hand against it and purrs mean anything, and then there’s the fact that his father never taught him to shave.

It couldn’t be that difficult, he learned to fly, after all, and shaving is just dragging a blade along his face. What's the worst that could happen? Cut himself over and over and have to wear a face full of bandaids?

He sets the razor back onto the sink’s marble surface. Maybe once his father teaches him what to do.

A fist pounding into the door grabs Jonathan’s attention.

“What?” He shouts over the music.

Jordan’s voice responds, just as loud, “Are you wearing clothes?”

“Yeah.” He’s in a tank top and sweatpants. The outfit he had picked out for the date is folded up neatly and waiting to be put on in the cabinet.

The door is thrown open and his brother marches in like he owned the place, pushing the sunnier twin out of the way so he could steal a bottle of cologne off the sink top, and proceed to walk out in the same manner he entered.

Jon throws his arms out in exclamation, “Dude, what are you doing? I need that!”

The door is shut right as Jonathan reaches it, slamming dangerously close to his face. From the opposite side of the door: “none of your business, and no you don’t” is all he gets for a response from his brother.

Tugging the cuffs of the hiked up sleeves of the coat to reach his wrists, Gar twists his head to gaze back at Jordan, who’s trailing after him with the bottle of cologne he retrieved from the bathroom still in hand.

“Thanks again, man!” He smiled.

Jordan matches the smile, “No problem. It felt nice being the one helping someone else get ready for a date instead of the other way ‘round.”

Giving his housemate a bump on his upper arm with his fist, the older Kent twin moves towards the bathroom to return the bottle. As he reaches for the doorknob, the door opens and reveals Jonathan, the teenager making a joke (or what sounded like a joke) about the thief coming back to the scene of the crime and expecting not to be caught.

“Dude!–”

Prompted by the brother’s sudden laughter of surprise, Gar leans to the side and peeks around Jordan’s frame, attempting to get a glimpse of Jonathan. Blood rushes into his face, warming up his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Eyes scanned his partner’s outfit from top to bottom, the jeans cuffed up at his ankles were normal, but the black leather jacket over a white sweater weren’t. It seemed too simple for Jon, yet somehow made Gar feel underdressed at the same time.

“Hey, man, the fifties called, they want the leader of the local bad boy group back!”

Jon huffs, “Alright, laugh on, guy who only dresses in hoodies and jeans.” Stepping past his brother, he grabs the collar of his jacket and pops it up, “I like to have more than one style.”

The shapeshifter tenses up when Jon’s attention lands on him. He forces a laugh, “I feel like I should change my outfit.”

“What! No!”

Heart picking up the pace when Jon takes his hands and holds them in his own, a faint purr vibrates in his throat. Eyes looking into Jonathan’s drop from his face to his hands, noticing the black nail polish painted onto his fingernails. He hasn’t seen Jon with painted nails since the early days.

“I think you look great! It totally, like, fits you!”

“Thanks.” Gar breathed. “You always look great.”

Even if Jon’s just sitting on his bed in pajamas, the shapeshifter’s pretty sure he’d find himself staring with cartoon hearts floating around his head.

With a push from Jordan, accompanied by a light-hearted tease of “looking at you two makes me sick”, the boys descend the stairs with hands still locked together. Opening the front door with his free hand, Jonathan winces when his mother’s voice echoes through the hall, asking if he’s the one at the door. The teen shouts back with a simple “yeah”, then frowns when his mom commands him to come into the kitchen.

Telling Garfield he’ll be right back and that he could go to the truck if he wanted, Jonathan stepped down the hall and appeared in the kitchen, focus moving between each parent: his mother at the table, writing something in her notebook as usual, and his father standing at the oven, cooking what smelled like a grilled cheese on the stovetop.

“What’s up?”

“Whoa,” His father speaks first, voicing what his mother likely thought as well. “You’re dressed up.”

“What’s the occasion?” Lois asks. There’s a smile on her face, but Jonathan knows better than to trust that when she’s in reporter mode. She’s studying him.

Jon shrugs, “Since we’re not doing anything tonight, I thought I’d go out to dinner–”

Lois chimes in before he could finish, “Just you? Or will Gar be going, too?”

Jonathan couldn’t help the way his posture shifts at the question. He feels like a lab rat under a microscope. If his father could hear his heartbeat right now, there’s no way he’s getting out of the house tonight. And if by some miracle he did, it wouldn’t be without an embarrassing conversation he doesn’t want to be a part of.

He’s doing this to himself, he knows, all the stress and anxiety of tip-toeing around. Being honest in the beginning would have put a stop to all this before it even started. There’s a voice in the back of his head that says otherwise, however, telling him being truthful would ruin it all, and the worst part is the voice isn’t his.

Because as appreciative Jon is for his mother opening up to him, her eyes practically peering into his soul as if she’s trying to read his mind isn’t exactly implying she trusts him or approves of his decision making.

And it’s not making him want to be honest…

Maybe he’ll tell his father.

“I, uh, invited Jordan, but he didn’t wanna join.” He swallows, forcing a smile as natural as he could muster, hoping it would convince his parents he’s not sweating through his shirt. “I’m not gonna force him to go if he doesn’t want to.”

Watching his parents send each other that look, the one he and Jordan would see as kids when they’d blame one another for trouble caused, when they'd lie, Jonathan clears his throat and goes on.

“What’d you need me for, anyway?”

Whatever she and his father silently conversed about, it wasn’t important enough to give life with words. His mother turns her attention back to the notebook, allowing Jon to catch his breath, lifting the weight of apprehension in his chest.

“It’s your night to clean up the kitchen, but I’ll let you do that when you get back.”

“I totally will! I promise!” Jon pipes, voicing cracking in a way that makes him cringe on the inside.

His father sends him a smile and nods to get going, “Have fun!”

Once Jonathan disappeared and the sound of the front door closing could be heard, the woman dropped the uninterested act. Tapping her pen against the notebook and leaning cheek into her fist, Lois gazes up at her husband.

“When do you think he’ll realize we already know what’s going on?”

Shoulders bounce as Clark huffs a mini laugh, “By his heartbeat, it probably isn’t now.”

“I know he doesn’t think we’re stupid,–” She uses the pen in hand to point towards the hall Jon awkwardly exited a minute ago, “but he hasn’t exactly been subtle.”

Eyes narrow into a slight glare, “And at the Fortress, I’m pretty sure I saw Jon going in to kiss Gar’s cheek, then when he noticed me he practically pushed Gar onto the floor.”

She hears her husband sigh and mumble under his breath, “Aw, come on, Jon.”

He sounded disappointed.

Snuffing out the fire under the pan, Clark steps over to the cupboard to retrieve a can of green beans. Pulling the doors open, he verbally recalls the moment he realized the roommates’ friendship might be growing into something more on the romantic side of things.

Breathing a soft laugh, Lois adds, “He reminds me of you. That’s something you would do.”

“I would not!” Clark protested in fake offense.

Lois scoffs in disagreement, but keeps the smile stuck to her face, “Uh, yeah, you would. You were afraid to show me any kind of affection if my dad was around.”

The glass bowl is set on the countertop, followed by the can.

“In my defense, your dad was– and still is, scary.”

Eyes drifted from her husband to elsewhere, thumb clicking the end of her pen over and over. Clark is right, and she agrees. Sam Lane had always been an extremely intimidating man. There were very specific reasons he had been chosen to be head of the d.o.d, and at a younger age, Lois saw it front and center. Still, she hates the guilt felt when thinking about her father in a negative light. It’s like a coin flip where you can’t win. One side: he’s the parent who stayed, the man who raised and helped her become the woman she is today, and the other side: he’s the man who’s responsible for doing horrible things to other people. People who, more often than not, didn't deserve it. Who’s only crime was existing.

Ignoring either side makes a knot form in her stomach.

Putting her train of thought back on track, she keeps the Jonathan discussion going.

“But still, Jon lied. I know you like to take his side–”

“I did because he was being honest with me.” Clark interrupts. The man’s brows furrow in thought, “I wouldn’t know why he’d be lying now.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m here.” Lois theorized out-loud.

Her husband’s expression changes, as if the final piece to his mind puzzle fell into place and revealed the image that answers his question. But whatever the answer is, Lois didn’t find out because Clark kept it to himself, preparing their dinner more important to him at the moment. Though she had an idea: Jon is more comfortable being open with his father than her.

More guilt to add to the pile.

She didn’t want her son to be scared of her, just be smart about his decision making. She’s aware she’s not as casual as her husband is about dating and romance topics, but thought the conversion she had with Jonathan in the Fortress had fixed – or somewhat fixed – what was going on.

After a plate holding a grilled cheese sandwich and green beans is placed in front of Lois, along with a fork and bottle of her preferred pop, Clark takes a seat in the chair across from her.

“I’ll check in on him throughout the night.” Her husband reassures, “Same way I did with Jordan when he went on his first date with Sarah. He won’t know.”

Mouth opening to ask Clark if he agreed with her guess, another voice enters the air first and cuts into the dull mood, switching it to something else entirely.

“You did what when I went on my first date with Sarah?”

Both parents freeze their current actions, turning their attention onto the older twin and putting on a grin that said “oops, you weren’t supposed to hear that” without needing words.


“Shit!”

Prompted by the swearing and palms being slammed against the steering wheel, Gar looks up from his phone where he was picking a song to play next; realizing the truck came to a stop, as well.

“What?”

Jon points at the windshield, “Cows.”

“Cows?”

Gazing following Jonathan’s finger, his eyes widened at the sight of cows, a herd of them, standing in the middle of the road, being joined by even more descending the hill that led up to a busted gate attached to fencing.

“Oh, there are cows.”

“They always get out.” Jon said. Shutting the car off, he unbuckles his seatbelt and scoots closer to the car door in the process of being opened, “If I can get one to move, the rest will follow. Gimme a second.”

Gar grabs his boyfriend’s upper arm to keep him from going any further, “Wouldn’t it be smarter if I did it?” He smiles, “Talking to animals is sort of my thing.”

“Right, I kinda forgot about that one.” Settling back into his seat, Jon takes a breath and chuckles lightly, “Wow, that day feels like forever ago.”

“I know right?”

Exiting the truck, gravel crunches under the shapeshifter’s shoes, and he exhales a warm cloud. In front of him, cows carry on with their duty of eating the surrounding grass, paying him no attention as their dinner seemed to be what took first place in their minds.

Like plugging a guitar’s cord into an amp, his powers wired the teenager’s mind to the large herd of animals’, projecting voices into his brain all expressing the same desire to eat grass and some complaining about how dead their patches tasted compared to others.

“Hi.”

In unison, every cow abandoned their dinner and faced Gar, blinking dark eyes slowly and tail tips flickering.

“Me and my boyfriend need to get through here, could you move back into your field please.” When the cows don’t budge at the first command, he chuckles awkwardly, “Or should I say moo-ve.”

Obeying the order didn’t seem to be something the animals were interested in doing, but after one exhaled a loud huff and began towards the open gate, the remaining members of the herd followed.

“Thanks!”

The beam of appreciation for the nearly spotless cooperation falls to a frown when the leader cow’s question enters his ears.

“Who is he? And why is he in charge?”

That’s a good question. One Gar has mused on in the past.

Conversing with animals is a predictable side effect when your metahuman abilities solely revolve around being one with the animal kingdom. The answer to why they treat him like he’s their authority figure hasn’t been found yet, though. It’s not just cows either, everything from bugs to birds listen, even if they do it with obvious irritation. He assumed they’d see him as their equal; not as royalty.

Strange.

Niles Caulder never told him what his purpose was. The reason behind why he turned Gar into what he is. The doctor wouldn’t even hint at what it might be. Now, Niles isn’t the kind of man who makes decisions without a carefully thought out plan, so him making a shapeshifter at random would be out-of-character. Gar’s existence more than likely fits into a bigger picture hidden from his eyes and ears.

What is in Niles’ character, however, is control. His favorite thing to do. Giving Gar the ability to control nature sounds like a possibility. If Gar can control nature then Niles can as well, since going against the doctor’s orders was a promised bad time; doing whatever he asked was the way to go if you didn’t want to be punished.

That’s how it went for Garfield, at least. He didn’t see what happened to Larry, Cliff, or Rita if they stepped out of line, but imagines they were scolded in some way.

“That’s still so freakin’ cool!” Jon shouts from the open driver side window.

Turning on his heel, Gar makes his way back to the truck, immediately being questioned how cow voices sound the second he sits in his seat. The genuine curiosity in his boyfriend’s voice brings the smile back to the shapeshifter’s face.


People are chatting and laughing amongst themselves, caught up in semi-private conversations. It’d be impossible for it to be private in public. That doesn’t give him the excuse to eavesdrop, though, so he tries to find the right balance. Bounce his hearing between Jonathan sitting across from him and the sounds emitting from the multiple objects in the room.

Cash register sliding forward. The change inside jingles as they collide into each other.

Pop dispenser filling up a cup.

Door’s bell rings when opened. Someone left.

Their waitress is bringing drinks over. Her shoe squeaks against the tile floor. She sets the cups down on the table, one full of lemonade and the other cherry coke, and tells them she’ll be back their way to gather their orders in a minute.

“Sorry our first date has to be in the town diner.”

Jonathan. He’s anxious. Leg is shaking, knee hitting the underside of the table. Hands refuse to stay still, fingers are fidgeting. And heartbeat is faster than what is considered normal.

“You don’t need to apologize. I would have enjoyed eating dinner in the barn.” Gar’s reassurance comes with a smile. Reaching for his partner’s restless hand, he gives it a comforting squeeze. “I like to be around you.”

At the touch, Jon drags his gaze to Gar, blinking at him with eyes that looked tired whether he was actually sleepy or not. Under his hold, the trembling hand calms, and the shapeshifter’s chest vibrates with a quiet purr as he watches the smile grow on his boyfriend’s face.

Jon brings his free hand up to rub his chin, “Even if I had no money, I would never take you on a date to our barn. But, thank you.”

Noting Jon’s heartbeat had slowed to a correct pace, Gar pulls his hand away. At his left, there’s a menu placed in a holder. Grabbing it, fingernails slightly sharper than a human’s click against the lamination, and he sweeps his gaze over the lines describing their meals and sides.

“If we still lived in Metropolis, there would have been more options.”

“Where was your favorite place to eat there?”

“There was this sub place near our apartment that I loved.” Leaning back into the booth’s cushion, Jonathan breathes a sigh laced with a hint of sadness, “Man, I miss Metropolis.”

Gar frowns.

He couldn’t relate. Living in the countryside is a dream he didn’t know he had come true. As shocking as it sounds, Gar prefers the cozy, peacefulness of a small town versus a huge, sleepless city where he was supposed to put his life on the line daily for people who wouldn’t care if he died. You have no choice when you’re a metahuman. Having a regular life wasn’t an option.. until he fell onto this earth, that is.

“What about you? I know it’s been a while..” The hesitation in Jon’s voice pulls Gar’s gaze from the menu. Chewing on his bottom lip, the other teenager pauses for a second, then asks, “Do you miss your home?”

“Not really.” His reply is candid and quicker than Jonathan probably had been anticipating, “I miss my friends, of course. Not the world.”

Besides the Titans, what is there to miss? He can’t think of anything… oh wait.

“Actually, I do miss my jacket.” Wish I fell through the portal wearing that instead of my suit.

At this point, having a suit is useless; not only because it’s broken, but because he has no need for it. Being a superhero again isn’t scheduled on his calendar.

“Your jacket?”

Gar’s response dies on his tongue. The diner door opens, sending a mildly amplified ring through his ears, coupled with a wave of cologne flooding his nostrils, overtaking any other smell in the room.

At first, he blamed the intensity of the scent on his enhanced senses and doesn’t doubt the extra strength is, but by the expression that found home on Jonathan’s face, the cologne slapped him in the face, too.

“Oh my god.” Jon said through a cough, pulling his jacket up and over his nose. “Worse than Jordan on his first date.”

“You’ll get used to it when you awaken your enhanced senses.”

Gar exhales a mini laugh, hearing the muffled voice, dripping with sarcastic enthusiasm, expressing how happy he is to be next in line for the super senses package.

By the time the waitress returns, Jonathan had sneezed into his jacket, causing a thin trail of wispy smoke to pour from the sides of his mouth.

Panicked at the thought of the waitress asking for Jon’s order first and seeing the barbeque breath, Gar speaks up in the split second she arrives at the table, being as detailed as he could with his order as to give his boyfriend some time. Flickering his eyes to Jon throughout the order, he sees him downing large amounts of pop in an attempt to extinguish the inner fireplace sparked to life by the sneeze.

Burping into a closed fist, then putting on the most “I'm totally a normal person” face he could in the moment, Jonathan begins his order, only for the waitress to giggle and cut him off.

The scratchy noise of a pencil on paper. She was already writing his order.

“I know what you want, Jon, you always get the same thing. Minus the onions because they don’t agree with you.”

Reacting to the unknown girl’s familiarity with his boyfriend, Gar sends Jonathan a raised eyebrow, asking him for an explanation without words. Something the young Kryptonian does with ease.

“Mackenzie Campbell, we were paired up together a few times for school projects. She’s worked here a while.”

He was so distracted by Jonathan, even when ordering, he didn’t get a good look at what their waitress looked like. Her appearance might as well have been background noise when Jon was mimicking a blown out candle.

Clad in the diner’s work uniform: a pale blue collared dress underneath an apron that would’ve been plain white if not for the button pinned near the bottom of a cat drawn in a cartoon-y style. Red hair styled up into a ponytail with side pieces, twirled, and framing a face of freckles, and brown eyes pointed at him twinkling with curiosity, likely trying to figure who he is and why he’s with her old school buddy.

“This is my boyfriend, Gar.” Jon answers the question her peering gaze asked, “He’s from Metropolis and staying with us while his folks are away on business.”

Mackenzie studies him for a heartbeat, then smiles, “I like him, he seems sweet. Better than your other trainwreck relationships.”

He hears Jon agree, then goes to take another drink.

“And your hair looks so cool. It’s so professional.” She breathes a laugh, lifting a hand to twirl a piece of free hair around her index finger, “When I tried to dye my hair, it was a total mess.”

Gar matches her smile, just with a little more nervousness, “Yeah, it took forever to look this good.” Pointing a finger at Mackenzie’s apron, he changes the topic of discussion from his not-dyed-hair, “I, uh, like your cat button.”

The girl’s face lights up at the compliment, “Oh, thank you, I made it myself! It's my cat! If she could come to work with me, she would.”

Tapping the eraser end of the pencil onto the notepad, Mackenzie apologizes from needing to step away so soon and gives an estimate of how long it'll be until their food is ready. Walking to the next table on her route, she adds a swift “nice to meet you, Gar” and tells Jonathan to stay out of trouble.

Jon huffs, then rolls his eyes, “I never said anything about onions, she’s just trying to embarrass me.”

Eyebrows raising, Gar smirks at the words he knows aren’t true, “Then why was it on the list?”

“What list?”

The playful grin morphs into a frown of confusion, “The night Jordan found out we were together, he gave me this list of stuff about you. I thought he told you. He said he would.”

By the look that appeared on Jonathan’s face, Jordan obviously didn’t inform his brother.

A choked out noise sounds first, followed by actual words, “You’re telling me there’s a list of my flaws that my brother wrote and gave to you?”

“It wasn’t flaws.” Grabbing his drink, he mumbles into the straw before drinking: “I already knew most of them”.

Jordan must have forgotten Garfield and Jonathan have been living in the same bedroom for the past three months in his moment of ‘evil twin’ genius. Gar imagines there’s not much he and Jon don’t know about each other. Which is a good thing. Since they’re already familiar, they avoided the awkward phase early in their relationship.

Hard to feel awkward around the guy who had to tend to your wounds for you. Talk about up close and personal. He grew past awkwardness real fast, just accepted (and enjoyed) the care and company.

“What! –” Wincing at the volume, Jon quiets and continues, “What was on there? What do you know?”

Gar hums, eyes narrowing as he tries to recall what he read on the list.

“Besides the stuff I knew, I think there was something about a haunted house–”

Thump.

The sound of Jonathan's forehead colliding against the tabletop.

Gar frowns once more, “When Jordan handed it to me, he called it revenge for stealing and reading his private letter to Sarah.”

“You read a letter in a British accent once and suddenly your brother is publishing the most embarrassing moment of your life!”

Reaching a hand out, Gar twirls a lock of blonde around his finger, “Come on, Jon, you know I don’t care about childhood mishaps. I argue I’ve had way more embarrassing mishaps in the few months I’ve been here.”

“Name one.”

Oh, too easy.

“The shower incident. Do you really think me having to stand there, in a towel, burnt from water, watching you try to fix the handle wasn’t somewhat embarrassing for me. Plus, I barely knew you then, so that's extra points for embarrassment.”

Now that feels like forever ago. The first couple weeks into his stay at the Kents. How things have changed since then– or how he’s grown since then.

Both.

Jonathan’s response is a snort, telling Gar his choice of answer had worked in the way he hoped it would.

Posture being fixed, a smirk hints on the alien boy’s lips as he begins to scoot towards the booth’s opening, “Nah, that was funny.”

“Not for me!” Gar laughed.

“Maybe not, but seeing you appear in the doorway, lookin’ like you just got out of the pool, to tell me the shower wasn’t working was pretty funny for me.”

In the process of exiting, he sheds his coat, leaving it in the corner of his seat.

“If you need me, I’m gonna use the bathroom and wash my face because who knows how dirty that table is.”

That was on the list. Number fifteen to be precise: “He's a little obsessive when it comes to looking - what he deems is - presentable and keeping himself clean. Kind of like a cat. So prepare to wait for him when he takes forever to get ready.”

And he has. Sat on his bed, watching Jon get awfully dressed up just to go to the store. Seeing him stand at the bathroom sink, leaning so close to the mirror his nose about pressed against it, with eyes narrowed in focus on his reflection. And each time Gar witnessed Jonathan being himself, a smile glowing with fondness stretched across his face.

Garfield isn’t the type to care that much about his appearance, but never declined the many times Jon offered to freshen him up. From using products to clean his face, applying honeysuckle scented lotion to his hands and arms, to brushing his hair in the middle of night when he couldn’t sleep because Jon thought it would help him become sleepy– it did.

A face burning red and heart drumming loudly in his ears would be a guarantee if he re-lived those moments today, as well as a strong urge to pull his now boyfriend in for a kiss. But back then, he had been too dumbfounded about the reality that someone could care for him in such a way, so delicate and heartfelt, for “wow, this dude is cute and so close to my face” to even have a chance to cross his mind.

It did at some point, obviously, just not then.

Not long after Jonathan returns, Mackenzie walks over with a tray of food, Gar’s stomach growling with hunger as she sets the plates on the table. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast, losing lunchtime to being a moose and carrying leaf filled trash bags on his antlers.

So, he takes no time scooping up fries from their shared basket and rehoming to his plate. A plate they didn’t stay on for long. Aware of his tendency to eat like a ravenous animal, he minds how quick and noisy he might be by accident; eating a fry at a time and taking small bites from his wrap.

Mini conversations are held, switching from topic to topic, until dinner begins to come to an end and both boys fall silent. Jonathan retrieving his wallet from his pocket to pay, Gar looks out the window.

San Francisco is deafening even at night, though you wouldn’t think it was night by how many lights are beaming into the sky. Something is going on twenty four-seven. Not here, not Smallville. You half expect a tumbleweed to blow along the sidewalk, it's so dead. And that’s not a bad thing.

Gar tilts his head slightly, enhanced hearing picking up a sound from miles away: a chorus of howls and screams mixed together singing in his ears.

Maybe it’s not so dead outside. There’s always animals.

Right then, an idea manifests in his brain like flicking a light switch.

Turning back to Jonathan, he pops the bubble of silence with a question, “Hey, I was wondering if after this we could do something I used to on my Earth–”

It wasn’t something he did or could do after he joined the Titans, only when he lived at Doom Manor and considers it the one fun thing he was able to do.

“ – if we have the time, and it’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, totally.” Jon smiled, “I wanna do stuff you like, too. What is it?”

Gently biting his lower lip, Gar sends his surroundings a swift glance. No one is listening to him but it's just a habit. Scooting forwards, resting a forearm on the table to support himself, he lowers his voice to barely above a whisper.

“How close is the nearest forest?”

Jon pauses for a heartbeat, “Why?” he asks, interest sparkling in his eyes.

Lips parting in a toothy grin that displays his set of fangs, brown iris’ start to glow green, and his voice gains an echo of different pitches as if more than one person is talking.

“I’m gonna show you Beast Boy.”

Notes:

Next chapter:
Garfield shows off his Beast Boy form and more of his abilities to Jonathan.

Series this work belongs to: