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Smallville was hell. It wasn’t just that he had moved away from everyone or that the move was sudden. It was Smallville being opposites at the same time. Quiet and loud. Metropolis had been loud but loud in a soothing way. He could deal with it. The constant loud noises he couldn’t understand. There was so much it blended in together and he could focus on one. It was being able to hone into the scoreboard, letting it blanket the other whining and humming and occasional angry pulses.
But Smallville was too quiet for the whirring to become background. Sounds didn’t make sense either but everything was confusing. The only thing he could gather was if it was safe. That gentle humming, not angry pulses. Despite the van looking like a creeper-mobile, it held the gentle whirring of safety.
It also blanketed the unsettling quiet-loud of Smallville. For a second, he was back in Metropolis where he could focus on one hum as everything else settled in the back of his mind - like music.
But the van was safe. It wouldn’t register him, he knows that. Jon doesn’t understand how but he does know it won’t register him. It should register mom though.
“Identification required. Identify yourself.” the RV spoke.
There were starting whirs. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t standing beside his mom, there was still that gentle hum. But the starting whirs, he knew the AI was preparing for danger. Jon was about to respond when he saw mom motioning him to be quiet. The voice was asking for identification, maybe she would be let in. It was only whirring, preparing the pulses in case something was wrong.
Mom was authorized, the whirring fell silent as the hums grew. Jon glanced around as mom asked the AI about John Henry Irons. There was something in the RV that he couldn’t make out. A mix of droning - not quite the safe hums - and…whistling? It was crowding his ears. He’s never heard it before. Jon tried to make sense of where the combination was coming from. Then mom turned around, so he followed her. The droning-whistles came from the bed. Revealing a - something like a computer.
“That was easy,” he said, the droning-whistles still crowding him despite knowing where it was coming from. Crowding him too much for him to think through his words.
“Yeah, it’s not usually like this,” Mom responded, tapping away, “So don’t take this exploration as how things normally go,”
It wasn’t what he was talking about. But he shoved that clarification aside. Instead, he asked about John Henry Irons - the man that tried to kill dad. Only to find out there were different universes. Gulping, he wondered if there was a version of himself out there or another version of Jordan or dad. Or mom - the other man had known mom. Head starting to ache, he concreted on the drone-whistles. Staring at the screens that were linked to the odd sounds. According to mom, this was from another universe.
He stared at the screens while his mom looked at the keyboards, answering his question. Eyes widening as the next pictures revealed her with Irons and a girl.
“Like you?” he managed to stutter out, now captivated by the whistles sounding from the screens. The droning and whistling entrancing, he hadn’t realized mom ushered him out until the harshness of Smallville slammed into him. ( step right/Forward 12/program$<run> )
Stumbling backwards, they were outside the RV.
“Jon, are you okay?” Mom was holding his shoulders, there was fuzzy beeping noise near her. Focus, Jon. He followed the hums, the ones closest to him.
“I’m fine,” he plastered his smile on, “Just didn’t think there were different realities,”
Mom chuckled, dropping her hands, “Yeah, it’s a lot to wrap your head around. Come on, let’s have break and lunch before we search again,”
Jon really didn’t mean to go back without her. He tried to ignore the quiet-loud of Smallville even as it buzzed around his head, his head hurting in only a way a too-small helmet could. He even went to Jordan’s room, grabbing the headphones his twin had used for superhearing. Jamming them on his head.
Whirring. Silence. Pulses. Silenc- hum silence whirs silence pul-screech- silence-tock-screech-silence-pulse-whir-$(document).ready(function() {
function displayTime() {
}
});
Silence
function {
Whirring
He struggled with the headphones, entangling them in his hair as the quiet-loud kept increasing. He managed to chuck them across the bed, cringing as they landed near the wastebasket. Head pounding, he followed it instinctively. The gentlest humming.
Jon can’t remember how he got in the van. Just that the eeriness of Smallville was blanketed. Again. And he was leaning against the door of the RV, inside. It was fine. The RV was putting out steady hums. It hadn’t noticed him before, it won’t now. He tousled his hair, letting a breath out as he followed the new drone-whistles back to the hidden computers.
He can’t remember when mom (or dad) taught them how to research on unknown computers. But whatever it did, it paid off. He found the folders - buried deeply like Irons didn’t want anyone to see. Jon glanced around but the pictures were captivating and the drone-whistling was lulling.
Photos don’t tell the other story, he knows that. Not only from being a son of Lois Lane but from their own family photos. He wanted to know what this girl - who was technically his half-sister - was like. If there were photos, videos would exist.
It took him no time to find the videos. Multiple of them. The first one he clicked, she looked like she was only five - or six. He huffed out something, not quite a laugh but not just a breath as he watched this girl - Natalie - hold out a squashed muffin? Cupcake? To John Henry Irons. Who gasped and wowed and praised it - saying it was the most perfect cupcake ever.
Was dad ever at his and Jordan’s - Jon closed the video. Focusing on getting to know Natalie as much as he could. He went back to the photos, clicking through the gallery. He swallowed. John Henry Irons looked like a really good dad. It was hard to reconcile that with the man that tried to kill his father. He stared at the next photo.
“I’m sorry I never got to meet you, sis,” it felt right to say it out loud, Natalie seemed like a cool person. His chest tightened as he thought about what it would be like to lose everything. To lose mom. To lose -
He hadn’t meant to open the news footage. Then it was there. Playing. He couldn’t move. Even as mom explained kryptonite. Even when da-not dad rose behind. He managed to move - too slow. He saw how she died. Saw the wa-saw her murdered.
Stumbling backwards, he tried to focus. He had told grandpa that he could never be scared of his family. But he certainly can be scared of others. And he was weak. Weapons. Irons’ had weapons that evened the field - capable of stopping. Frantically, he searched for any types of weapons.
The door was stuck but he managed after a few tugs. He couldn’t help but let out a half-smile as he found the pile of weapons.
“Identify yourself,” the voice startled him,
It shouldn’t have noticed him. Jon’s heart raced as he realized the safe-hums were silent. Whirring and pulses replaced them. He stumbled out who he was, unsteady and unsure if it would work. It should work. But this wasn’t from this world or reality or what-
Oh shit.
The pulses were angry - louder. Faster. Planning to kill.
“Mom!” he screamed, it should have worked. He should have been safe, “It’s going to kill me! Mom!”
It was going to kill him. He was going to die. There was no way to hide. Facing away, he curled into himself. Knowing it was useless. Strong arms wrapped around him, shielding him as the pulses joined together.
He should have been safe. He tried to tell - tried to say something. But that quiet-loud was back and dad was standing right behind mom.
And it hadn’t been him - Jon knows it wasn’t dad - but all he could see was the other slowly rising behind mom. And the RV suddenly turned on him after all that time. His voice was gone.
Jon didn’t knock as he entered Jordan’s room. Only he wasn’t there. He rubbed his chest as he grabbed his phone ( Superman rising above…hums to pulses…quiet-loud…mom dy-...superman rising…) .
where r u
i need to talk
Please ring
Jordan?
where r u?
He winced, wondering if he needed to call. The whirs and hums and silence increased but he needed him. (blue 2.times ->
turn left
step 15 )
Jordan was the only one he really has. Where he was, he should know where he was. But he couldn’t remember. Everything was too much (this wasn’t nor-). Texting was better.
Jordan, I don’t know where you are but,
He didn’t know where to begin,
please answer me,
He should give it a rest. Jordan was probably out with Sarah. He shouldn’t ruin it like he did at at the stupid festival.
( quiet-loud…mom dyi - Superman rising…)
Dad entered as well. He probably knocked. Unlike Jon. Dad said something about being at the Smallville talent show. He didn’t hear anything else - no. He did. He’d upset mom. He knew that. It will blow over.
He wanted to smile. To say he was fine. But that stupid quiet-loud of Smallville was drilling his head and he knew he would just repeat what he said when drunk. He can’t do that. Can’t disappoint ( Superman risi-) both ( mom dyi-) parents in one day.
As dad left, he glanced at his phone again. His hand hovered over the call button - the whirring and hums and $document.ready<display> and quiet-loud was too much.
pls i need 2 tlk u
“C’mon Jordan,” he begged,
No answer. Again. He choked down a sob as his phone only hummed. He needed to go to the high school. That was where dad said Jordan was.
It was quiet and loud and confusing and he couldn’t understand. He should have been safe. The RV had safe sounds. He found Jordan. Closer to the back than front. He hadn’t meant to sound needy - was Jordan distracted or did he always sound that needy?
“-pretty much the only one I have here?” Jon let his voice be unsteady, to stop the tears from falling ( Superman risi- hums to puls- weapons - mum dyin- Superman) .
“Jon, what happened?”
He glanced at the stage, keeping his arm on his leg to stop. He needed to talk to someone. He knows that. About what happened but he can’t…it should have been safe and then the - quietloud, hums, mom, superman quietloud- he can’t. The van was gentle hums blanketing quietloud - it had been gentle hums - when did it turn to pulses.
“I don’t even know where to begin,”
When Jordan wrapped an arm around him, the tightness of his chest grew smaller. He wanted to lean in fully but he’s already being too much and he knows Jordan doesn’t really like hugs.
“Whatever happened, we’re in this together. All right?”
“Okay,”
He’s not saying it here - turnTo Wrench..hums…clicks…forward 20 - in the school auditorium. The tightness in his chest shrunk again. Jordan was looking at him, prepared to listen. Not here. The need to spill everything was still there but not here.
“What are those for?” he pointed at the flowers - not now , later - Jordan was trying to hide them without squashing the bouquet. turtle.Turn, humming, quiet-loud, clicks. His voice was still unsteady but knowing Jordan was here is comforting. Enough to wait a little longer.