I gazed across my father's study, my eyes traveling over the few pictures that cluttered up his massive desk. I reached out, my fingers tracing the coolness of the platinum frame. "Only the best," I scoffed, before turning away from the picture; the only solid proof of the illusion that was my life.

The truth behind the image was much more deceiving then what the image portrayed. At first glance it appeared to be nothing more then a normal family picture of a handsome young man, his beautiful wife, and their infant son. Another picture dated a few years later, showed the same beautiful couple with their adoring son. They were perfect, but a little too perfect for my taste.

My body stiffened at the mere thought of normalcy, something I would never know. These pictures always reminded me of the life I've dreamed of. A normal life filled with laughter and love, and nothing of the deceit and lies that filled my life. I wanted what I couldn't have.

I glanced away from the pictures, trying to shrug off the familiar rush of emotions that has always lingered under the surface of my family's façade, but it never faltered. With a sigh, I crossed over to the crystal decanter set and poured myself a drink.

The amber liquid sloshed in the glass as I raised it to my lips. The strong aroma beckoned me to drink. I took a sip of the fine scotch as I crossed over to the window. Taking another sip, I tried to relax against the windowsill. The smooth liquid burned my throat as I glanced out the window and down into the expansive yard.

The landscaping was beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful, it was hard to imagine that their small haven was nestled in the middle of Kansas. Part of me wished we never came back. It was too quite, and only my father's employees lingered about.

I tensed slightly, as I picked up the soft footfalls of someone nearing. Based on the pace and intensity, I had no doubt that it was my father.

"Alexander Clark." A stern voice boomed across the room, invading my false sense of serenity.

"Father," I deadpanned, not lifting my eyes from the gardens below, grinning slightly as I savored another sip of his scotch.

"Clark." My father repeated once more, anger apparent in his tone. "You are not of age to enjoy my scotch."

I turned to my father, casting a glare at him as I took yet another sip of the scotch. "Would it matter? Alcohol does not seem to affect me as you well know."

"There are certain rules that should still be followed."

"And there are certain rules that are meant to be broken, as you my dear father have shown me." I smirked as I turned my attention back to the garden, not caring what his further argument would be.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" my father asked after a lengthy pause.

"What’s the point?" I shrugged as I set the glass down on the windowsill and flexed my arms. "I have other skills at my disposal."

"Clark," he sighed, a mild air of desperation in his tone. "How many times must we go over-"

"Even if I did attend the mindless drown of the student masses, I am a Luthor." I stated with pride as I turned back to my father and matched his piercing gaze. "They practically cower below me and hand me A's on a silver platter. My ancestry far exceeds me."

"Does it, now?" My father replied with a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

"I am Lex Luthor's son," I sneered. "All hail the ex-president's freak of a son!" I paused, studying my father's impassive face for any hint of emotion towards my statement.

"A freak?" He repeated with a frown. "You are unique-"

"I am my mother's son," I interrupted recalling previous talks of my uniqueness. "Speaking of my mother, where is she this fine day?"

My father hesitated slightly as I turned and gazed out the window once more. "Let me guess," I replied dryly, gesturing to the gardens below. "She's off saving the world, literally."

"Your mother does what she can."

"She's off protecting the helpless from the evil men," I smirked and within a blink of an eye, I turned and touched my father’s face. "Evil men, just like you."

"Clark." He scowled as he pushed my hand away.

"She's so much in love with you that she can only see the ideal man that lives in her dreams. She doesn't see what you truly are-"

"What am I?" He questioned, testing my limit.

"You're-” I began, but paused when I realized I would never be able to vocalize my father’s wrong doings. If I did, then that would make everything more valid, more real. "My father."

“That's right." He smiled as he grabbed the glass from my hand. "Now go to school."

I glared at him once more, knowing I can't fight him on this. With my jaw set, I turned defeated and made my way to school.

* * *

I covered my head with my arm as I felt a soft breeze waft over my body. "Mother?" I questioned as she suddenly made her appearance known. I groaned and sat up in bed, watching her, watching me. "You've come to grace me with your presence? I'm touched."

"Clark," she sighed and I couldn't help but flinch as she reached out to touch my face.

I swatted her hand away and I frowned, "Come to check up on your delinquent son?"

"You've grown so cold," she whispered and I couldn't help but laugh in response.

"I am the product of my parents- what did you expect when you married a Luthor? Come mother, you can't be that naive."

"Alexander Clark Luthor." She snapped and I simply smiled in return.

"Oh, my full name- I'm so scared." I mocked as I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "What do you want? I don't know where my father is- if you're wondering."

"I know where he is." She snapped in exasperation. "I came to talk to you about your performance at school."

"Or the lack of?" I smirked as she flushed, her fingers tapping against her hips. "Don't you have some poor smuck you have to save from my father?"

She sighed heavily and closed her eyes briefly. "Clark, will you stop talking in circles and talk to me. I am your mother."

"You are?" I gasped in shock. "Could've fooled me, you seem to care more about the world then me or your husband."

"It's my-" she began and I rolled my eyes in irritation.

"Your destiny!" I interrupted as I shook my head. "How could I ever forget? You only remind me every second of my life!"

"Clark," she snapped with growing annoyance.

"Yes, mother?" I smiled as my father decided to make an appearance and join our conversation. "It seems my room is grand central station tonight."

"What is going on in here?" He questioned as he crossed over to her and wrapped an arm around her, like the doting husband he claimed to be. "I can hear your voices down the hall."

"Nothing," I groaned as I turned to leave.

"We haven't finished here," My mother began as I raised my hand to her.

"Yes, we have." I replied as I casually walked out the door. I took a few steps, when I picked up on my mother’s crying and I zoned in to hear them better.

"Oh, Lex." She sighed. "Am I truly a bad mother?"

"No, Angel." He whispered in reply and I couldn't help but shudder as I heard them kiss. "He's being a rebellious teenager. We all went through it. I remember a young girl that defied her parents when she began to see a certain playboy millionaire."

"They had good reason too," she laughed lightly. "Do you really think it's only a phase?"

"Yes." He replied firmly. "He will do us proud one day."

"One day?" I repeated in annoyance and stormed off to find Jackson, I needed to vent.

* * *

I knocked on the front door and waited a second until his mother opened the door with her annoyingly cheery smile. "Clark, it’s nice to see you."

"Mrs. Ross," I greeted her, forcing a smile to my face. "Is Jackson home?"

"I believe he's out back shooting some hoops with his father," She smiled as she opened the door further, inviting me in. "Come on in." She added with a quick nod and I tried hard to hide the conflicting feelings from my face.

He had the family I've always wanted. My eyes drifted over to the mantle, their family pictures hold such a normal, homey feeling that ours lack.

"Why don't you go join them," she prompted, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"I'd love too," I grinned as I walked with her through the house to the kitchen.

"How is H.C.?" She asked after a slight pause.

"Off saving the world," I laughed in response.

"Someone has too," she smiled as she reached out and squeezed my hand gently and then let me pass through the back door.

"Clark!" Jackson grinned as he dribbled the ball over to me. "Want to shoot some hoops?"

"Gladly." I replied as I stole the ball and threw a perfect basket.

"Show off." He groaned, shaking his head with a grin on his face.

"Hey, A.C.," Mr. Ross smiled as he started to cross over to me. "You can wipe that grin off his face, while I go soak these old bones before dinner."

"I would love to," I grinned as I nodded and turned to Jackson.

"Later, Dad." Jackson smirked as he retrieved the ball and then turned his attention back to me. He studied me a second, before he frowned slightly. "What's wrong?"

I instantly groaned in response to his words. "I hate you," I stated with a prolonged sigh, a part of me hating how well he can read me.

"I know," he smiled and dribbled the ball over to me. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really," I sighed as I stole the ball once more and shot another basket. "Score."

"I hate you." He moaned and ran to retrieve the ball.

I knew how he would answer, but I couldn't help asking him once more. "Do you have to go off to college this fall?" I asked as he threw the ball back to me.

"We've talked about this," he frowned. "Besides, you can always use those powerful legs of yours and come see me at any time."

"You know I will," I sighed, tossing the ball back to him. "Guess that's what I get for falling for an older man."

"Geez Clark, you make me sound ancient. I'm only two years older then you."

"It may only be two years," I countered. "But you're a senior that will be graduating this year and leaving me here in Nowheresville."

Jackson grinned and crossed over to me, "I for one am glad that you moved back to Nowheresville-" he whispered into my ear, his hot breath tickling my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

"Let's get out of here." I suggested as I glanced back to see his mother watching us. She smiled at us, the one of the few signs that she suspected that our relationship had grown into something more then, 'just friends'.

"Let's go," he agreed and threw one more basket. He turned to me with a bright smile. "Let's go to the clubhouse," He winked as he took my hand and we walked back to the old clubhouse.

We ducked to enter and I couldn't help but laugh. We had outgrown the clubhouse long ago, but it was the best place to hide out from the world. It was our sanctuary.

He immediately wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a long heated kiss. We pulled apart gasping for air and I immediately felt better. We settled down on the ground, wrapped in each other’s arms.

I ran my hand over his bare, silky scalp, "I still can't believe you shaved it all off."

"Why?" he questioned, running his hand over his smooth, coffee skin. "Don't you like it?"

"You look damn good," I grinned as I stroked his scalp and pulled him into another passionate kiss.

"But?" He urged, as we broke apart.

I panted against his lips, drawing my body closer to his. "I can't help but think how ironic it is that you're as bald as my father."

"Ah," he grinned. "But, I can grow mine."

I slapped him playfully on the arm. "True- but still, you're bald and so is my father. My mother chose a bald man and so did I."

"I'm also not a billionaire." Jackson sighed, running his fingers over my body. "Clark, you think too much," he whispered as he nibbled on my ear. "Let me make you forget."

"Please." I sighed, letting him take control and fully relaxing into his touch.

* * *

I grinned as I snuck back into the house and up into my room. The evening was perfect. Jackson has made me feel whole and loved once more, my skin still tingled from where he touched me, and I could still feel his kisses burned into my skin.

"Where have you been?" A voiced demanded, pulling me from my happy reprieve. I groaned and I turned to my father.

"Out," I shrugged as I crossed past him and pulled off my shirt.

"It's almost midnight," he growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your mother has been worried."

"Well, if she called on her friends more often she'd know that I was with her good friends." I groaned as I turned back to him. "I'm sure she remembers the Ross'? Lana, Pete- I thought they were her best friends. After all, they are one of the few that do know what we are and how she really is."

He continued to stare at me, and I flinched slightly under his scrutiny. "Is there something else?" I growled with annoyance. "I didn't think spending time with family friends was so wrong."

"I have a hard time believing you spent time with them, when there are tell-tale signs of sex all over you." My father replied dryly.

I froze at his comment. In less then a second, I glanced down at my chest and grinned as my fingers drifted quickly over what appeared to be fading scratch marks across my chest, and obviously on my back. I grabbed a clean shirt and pulled it on before he had the time to wonder even more about the so called marks. "I think you need your eyes checked."

"Who is she?" He questioned, stepping closer to me and I couldn't help but laugh.

"There isn't any girl." I groaned as I ran a hand through my hair. "What's it to you?" I snapped. "Since when have you bothered with my social calendar?"

"Clark?" My mother interrupted as she knocked on the door. She stepped in and glanced between my father and I. "What's going on in here?" She questioned.

I rolled my eyes in disgust, even with all her powers, she still has no clue what is happening in her own house. "Nothing," I replied dryly. "Do you two mind, it's time for bed and I have school in the morning."

My mother sighed, "Lana just called, she wanted to make sure you made it home okay, and that you weren't off trying to save someone." She smiled her voice light with amusement.

"Save someone?" I snorted, shaking my head with disgust. "I think she has the wrong person there."

"Clark," she sighed. "Why are you so heartless? Where is the baby you once were?"

"Have you met my father?" I countered as I glanced over at my father and smirked.

"Clark," he reprimanded as he placed a calming hand on my mother's back.

"I-" my mother began, her shoulders hitched as tears pooled in her eyes. "I just don't understand why you don't use your gifts to help others? Think of the good you can do."

"That would be your thoughts mother," I replied, shrugging slightly. "I have no desire to help others- I just want to be normal. I just want to be me."

"But, Clark," she began to object as I heard the familiar calls of help, echoing in the distance.

"I believe someone is calling for you, mother dearest," I interrupted as she glared at me before turning slightly to concentrate on the voices screaming in the night. "And if you'll excuse me I'm going to bed."

"Don't think we are finished here," my mother protested as she leaned closer to the window.

"Fine." I groaned, shaking my head. "Just go save the damn boat already." With a soft breeze, she disappeared before our eyes and I turned to glare at my father. "Was there something else you wanted to add?"

"Why are you being so difficult?" He questioned, his eyes blazing with anger. "Your gifts are far more advanced at your age, then it was for your mother and you don’t have any of her weaknesses-"

"I'm being a Luthor," I shrugged, not caring about his other points.

"You can be so much more then your mother-"

"I don't want the life of a superhero," I snapped. "You should be happy about that, you're safe."

My father glared at me, his shoulders tensing. "One day you may regret that decision."

"Good night, father." I stated dryly, dismissing him from my room.

"Good night, Clark." He replied sharply, turning to leave. "We will discuss this later."

I groaned and flopped onto the bed with annoyance. "No, we won't."

***

Awaking before dawn, I dressed quickly and made my way to the Kent Farm. I raced through some of the more mundane chores, leaving virtually nothing for the farm hands today. I took a break just in time to see the sun rising over the distant horizon. The overall sense of peace and tranquility was overcoming; it reminded me of why I truly loved living in the Midwest.

I glanced back at the house to see my grandmother standing at the door. She smiled as she caught sight of me and walked out onto the porch. "Good morning, A.C.," My grandmother called out and gave me a small wave of her hand.

"Gran," I grinned as I rushed over to her and picked her up, giving her my infamous bear hug.

"You are getting stronger and faster every day," she exclaimed as I placed her back down on the ground. "I wasn’t expecting to see you today."

"I needed a break," I shrugged as I leaned back against the porch railing.

"Shouldn't you been in school?" She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest, giving me a stern look that even rivaled my father's.

"What's the point?" I groaned as I pounded my hand against the railing and shrunk back slightly as I heard the wood moan in protest and break.

"A.C.," she reprimanded and I sighed.

"I’ll fix it," I promised as I tried to piece it together.

"I think you should go to school." She replied soothingly as only a grandmother could, offering a suggestion that I should take.

"Why?" I protested, weakly. "It's not like I have to work for a living, I'll just help you here at the farm."

"You don't want to pursue a career like your mother or be a business man like your father?" My grandmother asked as she reached out and touched my face.

"I don't know," I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "All I know is that I don't want to be a reporter or a superhero like my mother, and don't get me started on my father and his business."

"Oh, A.C.," She whispered, as she patted my face and then squeezed my shoulder. "What do you want to do?"

"I want to be normal," I whispered in reply, voicing that feeling for the first time.

"Being normal is highly overrated," she laughed slightly, shaking her head. "I remember when H.C. said the same thing."

"Of course, she did." I groaned, hating being reminded that I am just like my mother. "At least she had parents that loved her and stayed with her."

"Oh, A.C.," She sighed heavily, "Never doubt that your parents love you."

"Could have fooled me," I snapped bitterly. "I rarely see my mother or my father. There are bigger things, more important then me in this world."

"They love you," she insisted as she rubbed my back, trying to evoke the tears that threatened to fall.

"I have to go to school," I whispered as I shrugged off her touch. "I will see you later. Love you."

"Have a good day," she called after me. "And remember that we love you."

I tried to shrug off her voice as I ran across the fields and made my way to school.

* * *

"You are going to have to go home at some point," Jackson stated as he trailed his hands over my back, leaving trails of sparks against my skin. I sighed, loving the feel of him against my back. "You can't stay in the loft forever."

"I rather stay here with you," I smiled as I arched back into his caress.

"What would your father say?" He mused and I stiffened. "If he knew that you spent your evenings with me, in me, and under me."

I felt my skin blush at the thought, "Jackson!"

"A.C.," he chuckled as he kissed the back of my neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses. "You are so damn hot when you blush like that."

"Jackson," I hissed as he continued to rub my back, his hands dipping lower and reaching around to my crotch. "You're such a tease."

"But, it's worth your wait." He chuckled and I groaned in response.

"And full of shit too," I chuckled as I flipped us over with ease, reversing our positions. "I think you need to be taught a lesson." I continued as I straddled him, pressing our groins together.

"Good." He moaned as I leaned down to kiss him, savoring the kiss as we rocked back and forth.

"Alexander Clark!" I heard my name cried out and we jumped apart. I turned to see my mother standing at the steps of the loft, her hand crushing the railing.

"Mom?!" I gasped as I fumbled to put my clothes back on. "What are you doing here?"

My mother continued to stare at me, her mouth slightly open as she glanced between Jackson and I. "How long?" She gasped as I swallowed hard. "How long have you been- been-"

"Fucking?" I supplied as her face went red with embarrassment and Jackson shot up, zipping up his pants and grabbing his shirt.

"I'll see you later," he replied quickly as he leaned over and kissed me before he dashed down the stairs.

"Later," I shouted after him, sad to see him go.

"How long?" She questioned once more as she began to pace back and forth.

"How old were you when you started fucking my father?" I growled in response not wanting to talk about my relationship with Jackson.

"My relationship with you father has no bearing with this discussion," she replied quickly, shaking her head.

"You can't tell me you waited until marriage- how old were you when you fucked him for the first time?" I sneered as she paled slightly.

"It's different. You can't compare what we had, with this; Jackson is your best male friend!" Her voice hitched up, stressing the word male and in turn, making my skin crawl with distaste.

"I love him," I whispered harshly. "And that’s all that matters."

"We are going home and discussing this with your father." She declared, running her fingers through her hair and then clamping her hand at the back of her neck.

"No. No! Anything but that," I groaned a sense of desperation setting in. "Please Mom, don't do this." I gasped the threat of tears near. "He'll take him away from me."

"Clark," she sighed, twisting her fingers together. "Your father deserves to know."

"Don't I deserve to be happy?" I questioned in response as she shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

"Of course, baby," She whispered reaching out to me, her fingers brushing against my arm as I pulled away.

"But, you are going to tell him," I accused her as she closed her eyes in response. "Mom, please." I pleaded, my voice straining ever so slightly. "Don't tell him, not yet, I need Jackson in my life."

"Clark," She whispered as she wiped at the tears on her face. "We vowed never to lie to each other again-"

"Unbelievably naïve, mother! You may not lie to each other, but you don't tell the full truth." I groaned. "Please, just this once, for me. Can't you take my side for once?"

"Don't make me chose between my son and my husband."

"Don't worry," I gasped, pushing back my own tears. "You won't have to." I growled as I sped away, forcing myself to run faster and hide before she could find me.

* * *

I ran to the car, not wanting to stick around for the blow out fight that I knew would occur. Mrs. Luthor knew, his mother, Superwoman no less.

My heart skipped a beat at that thought, I never considered what would happen when we were found out, but this overwhelming sense of loss wasn’t expected. Would she forbid us from seeing each other? My heart ached, what will his father do?

I groaned and drove home. Taking a deep cleansing breath, I made my way inside. "Hey, Mom," I smiled as I entered the house and hung my keys by the door.

She glanced at the clock and shook her head. "You were out late," She commented and I paused.

"I was with A.C.," I replied with a slight shrug and she laughed with amusement.

"I figured that much out," she smiled as she sat up and crossed over to me. "I kept some dinner warm if you are hungry."

"Am I?" I sighed, as my stomach grumbled loudly. "Grandma Kent gave us a snack, but then we-" my voice trailed off, my skin warming at the thought of my mother knowing what I was doing.

She laughed at my hesitation and motioned for me to take a seat. "I know Jackson; or rather I think I know."

I swallowed hard, my hunger dissipating at the thought that my mother knows too... "You do?" I questioned my voice slightly higher in octave then I remembered.

"I'm not blind," She replied softly, as if this was just any other conversation. "I see the way you look at each other when you think no one is looking. The soft touches here and there, you can tell."

"You can?" I gasped, not realizing it myself.

"Yes, baby, you can." She smiled as she placed a full plate of food on the table and sat down beside me. "Your father and I are worried about you both. Clark doesn't seem to be taking your pending graduation very well."

"It's not that," I replied quickly, shaking my head. "I mean he doesn't like that we'll be separated, but it’s something more- he just feels lost and I don’t know how to help him."

"Oh," she whispered and clasped her hands together. "All you can do is to be there for him when he needs you."

"His powers are increasing and each day he feels more pressure to be like his mother, but he doesn't want that- he just wants to be normal.” I explained as I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Sounds just like H.C.," she smiled sadly. "He'll find his place, you'll help him."

"What if I can't?" I questioned, vocalizing my thoughts for the first time. "I know we are young and I’m afraid that he will decide that he no longer loves me, that it was a phase. That he wants something more- I'm afraid that he will run away and never come back."

"Jackson," my mother sighed, shaking her head. "True love finds a way."

"Is that what this is?" I whispered. "He's the first person I've loved and I know he loves me, but will it last? You and Whitney broke up and then there was Adam and then Jason. Did you know then?" I mumbled. "And Dad- well he never had a steady relationship through high school or college. How do you know? And is it even the same? A.C. and I are both male- does it make a difference?"

A soft bubble of laughter escaped my mother's lips and I paled slightly at her reaction. "Mom?" I gasped in disbelief as I attempted to get up.

"Oh, Jackson," she smiled as she grabbed onto my wrist, preventing me from leaving. "I have faith that you and Clark will be happy. I just wish I had the guts at the time to show H.C. my true feelings."

"H.C.?" I questioned in confusion and sat back down in shock. "You? And H.C.?" I gasped as I starred at her in disbelief.

"Yes," she smiled, moving her hands to mine, squeezing them quickly. "There was a time where I was in love with Hudson and I would have done anything to make her happy. She will always have a place in my heart."

"Does Dad know?" I gasped as I continued to stare at her, as my mind replayed Clark's conversation the day before.

"I can't help but think how ironic it is that you're as bald as my father."

"Ah," I grinned. "But, I can grow mine.”

He slapped me playfully on the arm. "True- but still, you're bald and so is my father. My mother chose a bald man and so did I."

"Yes, your father knows," she laughs, breaking my concentration. "There is nothing between your father and I, that's the key to a long and happy relationship. No lies."

"We were meant to be," I whispered in awe. "We've been tied together by our parents' actions."

"And if you hurt him, I'm sure Laura would step in and continue the tradition." She winked and I groaned in response.

"No, way. He's mine." I stated vehemently. "Laura can find someone else, besides she's far too old for him."

"Don't let your sister hear you say that." She grinned, shaking her head. "Now eat, love will find its way."

"Yes, mother," I snickered as I picked up my fork and began to eat.

* * *

I shifted in my sleep and sighed with contentment as a familiar warmth engulfed me. "Nice," I whispered more to myself as I snuggled into the warmth.

"Jackson," a husky voice whispered into my ear, sending shivers of need down my spine and I felt a tug on my ear. "Wake up," the voice continued as I felt a small tongue lick the curve of my ear.

"A.C.?" I gasped, waking up to see him in my bed, draped over my body. He leaned in to kiss me, pausing ever so slightly to suck on my lower lip. Oh, god.

"Hi," he grinned as he pulled away, his hands roaming under my blanket, eliciting a moan from my lips.

"Hey," I replied in a lustful induced daze. "What are you-" I began to question as he squeezed my forming erection and I gasped.

"I need you," he groaned, capturing my lips in a heated kiss as he began to strip off his clothes.

"Clark," I sighed, pushing him away and glancing toward my alarm clock. "It's two am and my parents are in the next room." I whispered harshly as he glared at me, pulling away slightly.

"Jackson," he pleaded, pushing my t-shirt up and running his hands down my abs. "Please, I need you. Now."

"Not now, not here," I insisted as I pulled his hands away, my mind screaming at me that something was wrong, but my body wanting nothing more then to continue.

"You want me too," He growled into my ear as he ran his fingers over my growing erection.

"Not here," I hissed, pulling his hands away once more. "God, A.C. my parents are right down the hall- I don't want them to hear us."

"We can be quite," he whispered in a lower sultry voice, his fingers making me crazy.

"Clark-" I groaned as I squirmed under him, losing the battle very quickly. We kissed, moving against each other.

"Run away with me," he stated as we broke apart from our kiss, grinding our trapped erections together. The friction caused by our clothing, enhancing the sensations.

"What?" I gasped as I tried to comprehend his statement.

"Run away with me," he repeated as he nipped at my neck. "Tonight."

"What? Are you crazy?" I cried as I grabbed his hands away from my body and forced him to sit up with me. "We can't."

His blues eyes darkened. "We need to leave, we have to."

"No, A.C.," I replied shaking my head. "What about our parents?"

"Screw them," he hissed as he pulled away from me and started to pace the small length of the room. "We deserve to be happy-"

"I can't desert my family." I insisted, still trying to understand his need to flee at this moment.

He stopped and stood before me. "Jackson," He whimpered, looking at me with such sadness in his eyes. "Please."

I offered him my hand. "Let's sleep," I stated softly. "We can discuss this in the morning."

"Promise?" Clark whispered reluctantly in reply and traced his fingers over my hand.

"Promise," I smiled as I grasped his hand in mine and pulled him back into the bed with me. He settled into the bed and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close. "Promise," I whispered once more as I kissed his forehead.

He sighed and relaxed into my arms. "Jackson," he soothed as he threaded our fingers together. "I love you."

My heart skipped a beat and I squeezed his fingers in reply, "as I love you."

"In the morning," he mumbled as he tucked his head against my chest and drifted off into a much needed sleep.

"In the morning," I smiled as I closed my eyes, falling into a soothing sleep with the one I love.

* * *

"A.C.!" I heard Jackson cry out and I groaned in response, blinking my eyes open.

"Huh?" I grumbled in response as I turned over and realized that I was looking down at him from afar. "What the fuck?!" I cried as I suddenly lost the momentum I had and plunged back onto the bed, hitting Jackson on the chest.

"Damn," he groaned in response as he rubbed his chest and then turned to me with a confused face. "You were floating."

"Floating," I repeated, still slightly disorientated.

"Clark?" He whispered as he ran his fingers over my arm. "How?"

I shook my head, "I don't know, I've never floated before- well, I don't think I have."

"Amazing," he snorted as he leaned in and kissed me, wrapping his strong arms around me. I deepened the kiss as I wrapped my arms around him, the overwhelming sense of love and acceptance washing over me.

We pulled away, panting slightly as he rested his forehead against mine. "No, that was amazing." I chuckled as he groaned in response.

"I thought we were past the stupid clichés," he joked as he ran his hand down the side of my face.

"Nice, way to wake up," I added. "A very nice way- I think we should do this more often."

"Only if you promise not to float away on me," he grinned as he pulled away slightly and he glanced up at the ceiling.

"I'm not up there," I groaned as I turned his face to look at me. "I'm right here."

"I've always known that you might fly like your mother one day," he whispered as he ran his fingers down my arms. "I just didn't think you'd be floating mid air like that."

"It must be the first step, I vaguely remember Gran telling me something about it." I commented as I glanced up at the ceiling as well. "It didn't feel any different, not till you woke me up."

"Nice dreams then?" He murmured as he leaned in and kissed me again, and I couldn't help but groan.

"Very nice," I mumbled against his lips as I pulled him closer to me and deepened our kiss. I groaned into his mouth as our bodies rubbed against each other.

"No, A.C.," He gasped as he tried to pull away from me. "We better not start what we can't finish."

"Jackson," I whined as I tightened my grip, drawing him closer to me. "Live a little."

He shook his head and started to reply when there was a knock at his bedroom door. "Jackson," his mother began and we both turned to the door. "Are you up? Hudson is here to see you."

"Just a minute," he replied quickly as he tried to untangle himself from me. "Stay here." He ordered as he walked to the door.

"Don't tell her I'm here," I hissed, feeling the anger I felt from last night rush through me and then I suddenly laughed as Jackson opened the door.

"Shh," he groaned, rolling his eyes. "She does have super hearing too."

I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my laughter. "You might want to put some clothes on."

He glanced down and blushed, "er- thanks." He muttered as he grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. "Better?"

"Much," I grinned, winking at him. "I can't have my mother peeking at my goods."

He groaned and shook his head. "Very funny, A.C.," he deadpanned as he opened the door. "Be quiet and don't go anywhere."

* * *

"Mom?" I called down as I jogged down the stairs.

"We are in the kitchen," she called out and I headed towards the kitchen.

"Morning," I replied, plastering a smile to my face as I caught notice of Mrs. Luthor's saddened face. "Mom, Mrs. Luthor."

"Jackson," she smiled briefly as she looked up at me. "How many times have I told you to please call me Hudson?"

"A few times," I blushed, running my hand over my scalp and then rubbing the back of my neck. "Seems a little weird, you know since you're Superwoman and all."

She laughed and shook her head. "You are also dating my son, so I think it's allowed."

"Yeah," I smiled wistfully, glancing over at the stairs.

"Speaking of my son," she began, hesitating slightly. "Have you seen him lately?"

"Lately?" I questioned as I glanced around the room, unable to focus on her or my mother. "Last night."

"Last night?" She repeated as she studied me. "And after you left the loft?" She inquired as she crossed her arms across her chest and I swallowed hard.

"I haven't seen him," I replied, cursing at myself for telling such a blatant lie.

"Jackson Lee Ross, you better not be lying to us." My mother warned and I flinched slightly.

"Why are you looking for him?" I questioned quickly turning my attention to his mother instead of on me.

"We had a fight, and he's been missing all night. I'm worried." She whispered rubbing her fingers together.

"He'll come home; he usually does after a fight." I shrugged as she stiffened slightly.

"You make it sound like we fight often," she frowned as she turned away from me.

"Yes," I replied quickly. "I mean, no, not really. But it's not like him to just run away." I rushed to explain my answer and failing miserably."

"Jackson," My mother began as she reached out and touched my arm. "A.C. needs to be with his family now."

I hung my head, not knowing what else to say. "I know, but he needs me too."

"I know that now," his mother smiled sadly. "He never told us, we never thought that you two were together."

"We thought it would be best to kept it to ourselves," I shrugged. "Not with our fathers in the limelight. We may have moved back to Smallville and restarted our lives here, but the reporters are always lurking. We wanted the time to explore our new feelings by ourselves."

"You sound so serious, he's only 16," she whispered softly as I stared at her.

"And at 16, weren't you in love with the man you are currently married to?" I countered feeling my anger rise.

"That was different," she protested weekly, her voice shaking. "You two were like brothers."

"Brothers?" I gasped as I blinked at her, trying to make sense of her words. "We were forced to grow up together, it wasn't our choice that our fathers-"

"This won't solve anything," my mother cut in and glanced at us both. "Clark needs to go home."

"Clark doesn't want to go home," I grumbled. "He wanted me to run away with him."

They both stared at me in shock, and a moment of silence over came us.

"Jackson," my mother whispered, "you know that won't solve anything."

"Did he leave?" She questioned and I froze. He was listening, I glanced up toward the stairs and I knew.

"Yes," I answered, the full weight of the statement hitting me hard. "And I don't know if he'll be back."

* * *

I paced nervously out in the hallways of the Luthor Manor. I've always felt small in comparison to the grand Manor and I couldn't help but wonder why Clark loved me, when he had so much more.

"Jackson," his mother called and I turned to her. "Come," she waved as she forced a smile to her face. I nodded and entered his father's study, a place I've never dared to enter before.

"That is not acceptable!" Mr. Luthor growled into the phone, before slamming it back down on its receiver. I froze in my place, not wanting to bear the brunt of his anger by doing anything wrong. "Well?" he questioned, looking up at his wife before turning his attention to me.

"Mr. Luthor," I began, not knowing what to say to him or why he wished to speak with me. "You wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes," he nodded as he walked over to me and looked me over, analyzing me. "You shaved your head," he remarked as he crossed his arms across his chest and I blinked at him, slightly amused that he brought up my new appearance. "How long has it been since we've talked one on one?"

"How long?" I repeated, pausing slightly at his question, unsure of the answer as I tried to recall the last time I did speak with him. "Last year at A.C.'s birthday party, I believe." I offered, not really sure when the last time was. Not that I have sought him out in the past, I've tried to keep my distance, I've tried to avoid all contact with his high profile parents if I can.

"I see." He mused as he glanced over at his wife and then looked back at me. "From what I've been told, my son was with you last night."

"Yes," I gulped as I crossed my arms over my chest, wishing I could disappear into the woodwork. "He snuck in around two this morning. He spent the night with me."

"Has he does this before?" He questioned and I stiffened slightly under his intense gaze.

"No, not since we moved back here." I explained with a slight shrug of indifference, hating being under Mr. Luthor's scrutiny. "On occasion we did share a bed when we lived in D.C., but that was more of companionship, then what we have now."

"What you have now?" He drawled out, as if he was testing the statement. "Do you believe that my son loves you?" He inquired as he stepped closer to me, and I knew he expected me to step back, he wanted to see me cower.

"Why do you feel the need to intimidate me?" I sniped at him, cursing at myself the second I did, but unable to control my anger. "He loves me and I love him." I hissed. "Is there something wrong with that?"

His eyes widened slightly at my statement and then smiled at me. "I can see why he does," he chuckled as he shook his head in apparent amusement. His gaze drifted away and glazed over slightly before he looked back at me. "Do you know where our son might have gone?"

"No," I sighed, relaxing slightly. "I promised that we would talk it over this morning, but we were interrupted before we could."

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Mrs. Luthor or rather Hudson, stated softly crossing over to her husband.

"We know that, Angel." He offered in return as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. He whispered something into her ear and I instantly felt out of place. They seemed lost in their own world, their concern and sadness apparent over the loss of their son. I needed to go, to leave them with their grief.

"I should leave," I stated quickly, feeling uneasy without A.C. with me. "I'll let you deal with this on your own."

"No," she gasped as she turned her attention back to me. "You are the only one that might know where he is, you are the only one that knows our son well enough to wager a guess."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, shaking my head. "But, I don't know where he'd go." I continued, my heart aching at the thought that I might not see him again. "If only I had left with him-"

"Running away never solves anything," his mother sighed, glancing over at her husband with a knowing look.

"But, at least I'd be with him, instead of being here." I groaned, slightly angry at the fact that he did leave me in this position. Alone.

"He'll be back." They both replied quickly and with the confidence that I lacked at the moment. If only it was that simple.

"Then why did you drag me here then?" I snapped, with annoyance.

"Did you notice if he was wearing his watch?" His father questioned, side stepping the question.

"His watch?" I repeated, my mind flashing back to last night. "The one with the coin face?" I asked, as he nodded his head in reply. "He never takes it off."

"Good." He smiled knowingly and crossed over to the wall. I gasped in shock as he hit a button and a panel dropped down. "If he hasn't taken it off, we might at least have a general idea where he might be."

"His most treasured watch is a tracking device?" I mumbled with disbelief as I watched a blinking red dot on the monitor.

"I've not had to use it until now," his father stated as he typed away at the keyboard, trying to zero on his location. "I had hoped I'd never had to use it."

"Lex," his mother sighed as she studied the panel and glanced back at her husband. "Why?"

"If he's anything like his parents," he began, pausing slightly as the red dot suddenly went out. "Damn."

"He figured it out," I stated as I watched a myriad of emotions flicker of his father's face before it once more was replaced with the blank, stony face that I've come accustomed of knowing.

"I was afraid if I turned it on, that he'd hear the tracking device." He explained as he turned the panel off and turned to his wife. "Will the League help?"

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to go that far," she whispered, running her fingers through her hair. "Why is he doing this, Jackson? Is he trying to punish us?"

"No," I groaned, feeling as if I was betraying him by speaking to his parents in his absence. "Only he can tell you the real reason why, I can only assume."

"Unfortunately, he hasn't learned from his parents' example." Lex commented, sighing heavily as he reached out and touched his wife's face. "He has to figure this out on his own."

* * *

Days had passed, but I found myself thinking constantly flashing back to Smallville and everything I had left. I sat down and rested on a ledge of an empty building, I gazed up at the darkening sky, straining to see the stars. The city lights drowning out the faint flickering stars, they seemed so far away.

I sighed and ran my fingers over my chest, wishing Jackson was here with me, touching me, loving me. "Jackson," I sighed longingly, wondering if I had made the right choice in leaving. My problems seemed so small compared to the absence in my heart.

"Who's Jackson?" A voice questioned, interrupting my thoughts and I spun around. My breathing hitched slightly as I realized that I didn't hear the intruder approach. I had let my guard down.

I glared at the shadowy figure, trying to make out the person in the darkness. "Who are you?" I demanded, stepping closer to him.

"Just a little birdie," he chuckled as he took a step forward into the light, reveling his cape and garish costume.

"They sent the boy wonder after me?" I groaned as I turned from him and sat back down on the ledge. "Couldn't get anyone else?"

"The League is out looking for you," he shrugged as he took a seat down beside me. "They are just thinking like adults."

"Figures," I sighed heavily and looked over at the masked face. "I won't go home."

"I didn't expect you would." He snickered as he ran a hand over his chin. "But, they are looking for you and it won't take long before they find you."

"You can tell them to stop looking, that I have no interest in going home." I grumbled. "I just need some time to myself."

"And what about this Jackson you mentioned?" He questioned and I stiffened in response.

"He is not of your concern." I growled, standing up, preparing to leave.

"I just don't understand why you'd leave. Your parents love you and you have everything you could ever want or ever need." He stated softly, almost wistfully. "I wish I had what you have."

"The grass is always greener," I remarked with a small laugh. "I'd give anything to have what you have."

"And what would that be?" He questioned, his voice laced with confusion.

"Being normal," I whispered. "I would give away everything just to be normal."

"Everything?" He mused, shaking his head. "Even Jackson?"

"No," I replied quickly, letting my heart answer the question poised. I could never give him up.

"Then what are you doing here in Gotham of all places?" He questioned with a bitter laugh. I sighed, unable to answer that question, my resolve weakening at the thought of staying away any longer. "It was nice talking to you, er, Superboy. But you should go home to the ones you love, while you still can." His voice trailed off as he turned to leave.

Before I could reply to his statement he was gone and I was left alone again to ponder my thoughts.

* * *

My eyes snapped open as I heard my named being called out and I blinked, trying to clear my sight. "Clark!" The voice cried out once more in the darkness, it was distant and faint but I knew that voice anywhere. My heart skipped a beat at the distress in his voice and I waited with baited breath to hear his voice again. "A.C.! Help, us."

I gasped as I struggled to sit up, trying to focus my hearing on the shout for help. "Jackson!" I shouted as I ran toward his voice, willing him to speak again. "Jackson?!"

The silence was deafening, I couldn't place his voice amongst the countless others that demanded to be heard. I took a deep breath as I tried to process the information given by the countless cries of help. "A collapse, a bomb of some sort," I mumbled configuring the data given. "Oh God," I gasped as everything clicked into place. "The Metropolis Civic Center."

I ran, faster then I thought possible, almost flying across the ground. The cries of help echoed in my ears as I neared the collapsed building, my heart breaking even more at the site before me. My breathing hitched as I realized for the first time that the calls I've heard before were real- they've called for my mother over the years and I've simply ignored them.

My gaze lingered over the rumble before me, I watched as people in all types of uniforms tried to help the people that were trapped. A flicker of a red cape caught my eye and looked up at my mother. "Mom!" I called out, before thinking about the implications of my statement. She turned briefly toward me, a smile flickering over her tired face. She halted mid flight, obviously torn between the choice to come to me or helping the others. "Go." I whispered and she simply nodded in reply as she dove into the mess.

"Clark," another voice cried out my name, but not the one I had hoped for. I spun around to see my father behind the police barricade, arguing with the policeman to let him pass. I turned back in time to see my mother flying with a crumbled body tucked into her arms.

I stood frozen, watching, seeing my mother in action for the first time. The cries around us escalating- I wanted to scream, to run, to forget what I've seen. I can't do this.

"Clark," my father called to me, his voice seemed closer and I glanced over to see him walking toward me. "What are you doing here?" He began as he studied me briefly, his eyes shining in the dim light. "We had hoped you would return on your own-" his voice trailed off as his fingers brushed up against my face.

I closed my eyes at his touch, my heart tightening as I realized he has never touched me or acknowledged me in public of his own accord. "I heard him," I managed to reply as I pulled away slightly, gazing at the rubble. "I thought I heard him."

"It happened so fast," my father replied as his eyes traveled over me and then glanced at the crumbled building. "We were having a press conference- your mother managed to get me out before the second blast took out the rest of the building."

"A press conference," I repeated dryly, my heart skipping a beat. It was my fault. "Please tell me that the conference wasn't about me. Please tell me that Jackson wasn't there."

"I'm sorry son," he whispered, his hand rubbing my shoulder.

"No," I gasped, pulling away from him. "No, not Jackson."

"The last time I saw him, he was in the back of the building." He continued to explain as I felt my heart tightening and the air thinning around me.

A sense of panic overwhelmed me as I drowned out the rest of his explanation. Not caring anymore how it happened, only worrying that he was still in there, trapped. "Jackson," I cried out as I stepped toward the wreckage, my father grabbing onto my arm as he tried to hold me back

I glared at his hand on my arm. "Let me go."

"You can't go in there," he hissed as he motioned to the reporters filming and taking pictures. "You go in there and all of these people will have your picture. They will demand to know why my son has not only reappeared, but more importantly why he has the powers that you do."

I pulled back away from him, my eyes flashing with fire. "I can't not go in there!" I protested. "Jackson is in there, he needs me."

My father paused as his eyes flickered with an emotion I rarely saw. "I'm proud that you would want to risk everything to save him, but you have to think of the bigger picture."

I nodded in acknowledgement of his fears. "Fine," I growled as I turned around and glanced over the stores in the area, grinning as my eyes caught the flickering sign of a costume shop.

Using every ounce of self control I could muster, I walked away from my father and past the police barricade. I managed to wait until no one was looking, before I took off in a run and made my way to the costume shop. The windows facing the civic center had been blown out, so there was no need to find a way in.

I peeled off my clothes as I grabbed a replica of the superwoman costume on display, hoping that it would fit. I couldn't help but chuckle at myself as I pulled on the blue lyrca costume and flimsy red cape. I groaned as I flexed my muscles, the suit was a little small and stifling, but it would do.

I pulled on some red boots, completing my Super outfit. The transformation was almost complete, but I needed something else to finalize my look. I glanced around at the make up and hair supplies and on a whim, I grabbed some hair gel and slicked back my hair.

Taking a deep breath I turned quickly to the mirror and immediately laughed at my reflection. I looked ridiculous, but no one would mistake me for Lex Luthor's son and that's all I needed to do.

I paused, glancing once more at my reflection, my fingers tracing over the 'S' on my chest. I took a deep breath and straightened my back, flexing my muscles. I looked like a superhero; I just hoped that I can act like one too.

* * *

I continued to focus my hearing on the faint heartbeats resounding underneath the rumble beneath me. I sighed with frustration as I brushed the dust away from my eyes; there was so much loss and desperation.

"How can I help?" I heard a deep voice to my right. I turned to the voice and I was shocked to see my son standing in front of me. I blinked my eyes, my mouth dropping in surprise as I noticed the familiar uniform on him. He looked amazing.

Tears rushed to my eyes and I wanted nothing more then to wrap my arms around him, to welcome him home.

"Have you found him yet?" He continued his voice dropping so low that even I had a hard time hearing him. "Have you found Jackson? Is he still alive? Is he okay?"

My heart squeezed tightly in my chest and I reached out to him, "Not yet baby." I managed to whisper in a hushed voice. "But, we will." I reassured him, hoping that my words would come true.

Within minutes, he was helping me uncover more ground and we found countless others for the medical teams to help. I noticed the strain in his face as we had yet to find Jackson and I ached to cradle my son in my arms, to make him feel better.

I pulled another weak survivor to the awaiting medical team, when the reporters gathered around me. Countless questions were asked about the superhero by my side, rather then about the accident or the recovery itself.

"Please allow, Superwoman to do her job," Lex interceded and I gave him a smile of relief, sending him my love.

As the reporters turned to him to answer the questions, I flew back over the site, pausing mid air as I noted my son kneeling beside a prone crippled body. Jackson.

I knelt down beside his hunched figure, sobs shaking his body. "A.C.?" I whispered as he looked up at me with tears in his eyes.

"Mommy," his voice broke, and I felt my own heart break at the desperation and sadness in his voice. "He's hurt so bad, he's so weak."

I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm as I leaned over my son and felt for Jackson's pulse. "He still has a strong pulse, there is still hope." I whispered reassuringly as I wrapped my arms around Jackson, preparing to fly him to the rescue teams.

He sniffed back his tears and nodded bravely. "I love you," he whispered softly as he pressed a small kiss to his lips. I stared in awe at the tender and loving display, how did I not see this before? He stepped back, trusting me with his love. "Go."

I nodded and in an instant I had Jackson in the hands of the professionals. I turned back, expecting to find Clark missing in action, but he was still there, helping. My heart filled with pride and joy at my son's actions. He was becoming everything that I had hoped he would be.