Solar Flare

The early morning Kansas sun filtered softly through the truck's dust-flecked windows as they rumbled down the rural road. Joel shifted against the seat, scrubbing the grit of unfinished dreams from his eyes. He stifled a yawn behind one hand, the events of the past twenty-four hours crashing over him again with wakeful clarity.

"Where are we going again?" he mumbled, still struggling to kick his brain into proper gear. The overplayed pop song warbling from the radio did little to pierce the muggy haze of sleep still clouding his thoughts.

His father kept one hand draped casually over the wheel, guiding them onward through the gradually brightening landscape. "The farm," Clark replied mildly, attention never wavering from the open road unwinding ahead. "Been too long since your grandmother got to spoil you boys. And the wide open spaces there will be good for..."

He trailed off, no doubt biting back mention of the discovery still setting Joel's thoughts to riot. "Well, just some rest and open air anyway," Clark amended after a weighty pause.

From the backseat arose a rumbling snore, momentarily drowning out even the radio's tinny chorus. Joel twisted against the complaining squeak of the seat. There lay Jon, cheek smushed against the stuffed bear clutched in a death grip to his chest. Messy dark curls flopped over his round face, mouth hanging slack.

Joel huffed an amused breath at the spectacle before swiveling forward again. "He still snores like a congested warthog back there?"

His father's eyes crinkled at the corners above his lingering smile. "Jon's eight years old. He'll outgrow it eventually," Clark assured, tone colored by quiet nostalgia. His gaze remained fixed ahead even as his thoughts drifted elsewhere for a beat.

"For the record, you were an even more tremendous snorer at his age. Drove your mother and I half-mad with the racket some nights." One side of Clark's mouth quirked higher as he shot his son a pointed glance. "So take it easy on the kid."

Joel felt an embarrassed flush creep up his neck at the gentle teasing. He shook his head, biting back the reflexive retort on his tongue as he slouched lower in his seat again. "Pff, yeah right," he mumbled under his breath, fending off the playful jab to his dignity.

He busied himself picking at a stray thread dangling from the ripped knee of his jeans until the radio faded out, static hissing through the speakers. An easy quiet settled through the truck now, punctuated only by Jon's faint snuffles and the truck's engine. Joel rested his temple against the glass, watching the flat countryside slowly scroll past. He could feel his dad's occasional glances and knew Clark was carefully weighing when to pierce the lingering silence.

Joel beat him to it. Still staring sightlessly out the window, he hesitantly broke the wordless tension filling the space between them. "So...these powers. Do you really think spending time back on the farm will help get them figured out somehow?" He bit the inside of his cheek. "I mean, what's so special about the place anyway?"

Clark didn't answer right away, and Joel felt fresh nerves twisting his insides tighter. Finally, his dad heaved a slow breath before replying gently. "Well, that farm is where I first started understanding the extent of my abilities as they developed."

Joel chewed his bottom lip raw, thoughts churning as he gazed sightlessly out the window. After a weighty pause, he ventured another darting glance toward his father.

"So what is it about the old farm that's supposed to magically help get a handle on this thing?" Joel gestured vaguely at himself, a bitter smile ghosting his lips. "That place got some kind of supernatural cure for freaky alien abilities or what?"

Clark's eyes crinkled lightly at the corners, though his attention remained fixed on navigating potholes pocking the rural road.

"No magical solutions out there I'm afraid, bud," he replied easily, the amusement lingering in his tone like warm honey. "Just acres of wide open spaces where a budding Kryptonian can test abilities without destroying too much property in the process." Clark slid his son a pointed sidelong look. "Believe me, I get how daunting all of this feels right now. But that farm is where I first started figuring out the scope of my powers after they surfaced. It can be that anchor safe haven for you too to take the time you need wrapping your head around such a massive change."

Joel slouched lower in his seat, his nails resumed messing with a fraying hole in the knee of his jeans. He could feel Clark studying his brooding form even as the radio continued to spit static.

"I know everything probably feels terrifying and out of control at the moment," Clark added gently after a lingering beat. "But I promise the farm can be whatever you need over the next two days—space to think, to experiment safely with these abilities and assess them bit by bit..." He blew out a slow breath. "Or just somewhere calm far from prying eyes to come to terms with just how much your world has shifted recently in every possible way."

As the farmland continued to race past in a Monet blur outside the streaked windows, Joel wondered grimly if any location held the power to make him feel at home within this foreign body again. Or if he was doomed now to forever feel like an interloper trapped inside his altered flesh.

 ****

The Kent family farmhouse finally emerged from the shimmering heat waves rising off the open highway. Its weathered sides and peeling whitewash exterior were just as Joel remembered from childhood, though perhaps a bit more faded under the unforgiving prairie sun. As the truck rumbled down the long, dusty drive toward that familiar structure, Joel felt something in his chest unclench ever so slightly.

Before Clark even shifted into park, Jon had already scrambled out, his excited shouts piercing the still countryside air. Joel watched his little brother barreling full tilt across the scrubby grass, beloved teddy bear flopping wildly in his grip. Seconds later Jon crashed into their grandmother Martha's waiting embrace with enough enthusiasm to make the silver-haired woman stagger slightly.

"Grandma!" Jon crowed, nuzzling his round cheek ecstatically against her floral print dress.

Martha smoothed back her grandson's dark curls, joy crinkling the skin around her eyes. "Look how much you've grown!" she exclaimed. "Didn't think you'd still remember me after three whole years away."

Joel slid slowly from the truck, boots scuffing up small puffs of dust. He hovered back a pace, drinking in the sweetly familiar scene playing out by the house. His grandmother kept one arm locked around Jon's wriggling form, her free hand already fishing through her apron pocket for a candy treat she no doubt still carried.

After showering Jon with a few more enthusiastic kisses, Martha lifted her smiling gaze to spot Joel lingering beside the vehicle. Her expression impossibly softened further as she stepped around his younger brother to approach.

"C'mere, my dear boy," she urged gently, weathered hands already cupping Joel's face. He allowed his eyes to slip shut, tension bleeding away beneath her work-roughened palms. "Look how you've grown into such a handsome young man..."

Joel felt the light press of lips to his forehead then, his grandmother's floral perfume and traces of buttery pie crust kindling sense memories from early childhood. Safe and warm and unconditionally loved. For a fleeting span of heartbeats, he could almost pretend the last day never occurred—that he remained merely a normal teenager visiting his doting grandparent, his greatest worry deciding which homemade dessert to sample first.

But the comforting fantasy evaporated too quickly, dread creeping in to replace it. Because he knew the sanctuary found here could only ever be temporary. No beloved childhood havens lasted forever these days.

Clark crossed the scrubby lawn to greet his mother, boots scuffing up puffs of dust in his wake. Martha Kent turned from fussing over the boys, her face breaking into a glowing smile at the sight of her only son ambling up the drive. Clark dipped his head to brush a quick kiss against her forehead, the faint scent of butter and cinnamon clinging to her skin.

"Got room at the table for a few hungry surprises?" he rumbled, affection warming his deep timbre.

Martha gave his bearded cheek an affectionate pat as she stepped back to take him in. "You know I can hardly turn away my boys, expected or not." Her keen gaze tracked past Clark's shoulder toward the empty driveway, brows pinching. "Though I admit, it's rare to see you out this way without Lois glued to your side. Everything alright back home?"

Clark slung an arm around his mother's shoulders, guiding her toward the front porch steps where rambunctious shouts echoed from within. "Oh, you know Lois. Always chasing the next headline." He shot Martha a lopsided grin. "But even her ruthless quest for scoops can't distract from her true calling as best mom in Metropolis. So she's holding down the fort there and sent her unruly pack out here for some fresher air."

As they climbed the creaking steps, Jon came bursting out the screen door with Joel hot on his heels. Clark's arm shot out just in time to snag a handful of Joel's shirt before he could bodily tackle his younger brother straight off the porch.

"Whoa there, killer!" Clark chuckled, effortlessly reeling the teen back by his collar despite Joel's protests. "How about we leave the roughhousing outside while Grandma finishes up lunch, yeah?"

Jon scampered off again the second his feet hit the dusty earth. But Joel lingered, scuffing the porch boards with his worn sneakers as he tracked his father and grandmother's conversation drifting in from the kitchen.

"Well, surprises or not, you know everyone's always welcome here." Martha's voice held that warm syrupy quality brimming with fondness.

"And if all my grandbabies want is an open ear while they get some head-clearing country air, I've got more than enough of both to go around."

"Thanks, Ma," Clark replied after a weighty beat, his large hand folding over hers where it rested on the counter. "I think we're all gonna need that over the next two days."

Clark leaned a hip against the scrubbed wood countertop, arms crossing loosely over his broad chest as he watched his mother bustle about the cozy kitchen. The rich aroma of baking pie crust mingled with hints of roast chicken and fresh bread, kindling sense memories that carried him straight back to carefree boyhood days.

His stomach chose that moment to unleash an impatient rumble, shattering the nostalgic haze. Clark ducked his head failing to hide his sudden flush of embarrassment.

"Good thing I've got a spread big enough to feed that infamous Kent appetite, even on no notice," Martha teased gently, deft hands never slowing as she rolled out more pie dough.

Clark scrubbed a palm across his neck, feeling the heat lingering there. "Sorry for just dropping in unexpectedly, Ma. But with everything happening lately..." He trailed off, laughter dying on his lips.

Martha abruptly halted her tasks, dusting the last traces of flour from her hands before crossing over to her son. She took Clark's face tenderly between both palms, searching his conflicted features with knowing eyes.

"This is about Joel discovering those abilities you were so certain skipped his generation, isn't it?" Martha surmised. Always able to read her son's mind no matter how many years passed between visits.

Clark expelled a ragged breath, letting his forehead come to rest against hers. The familiar floral scent of her perfume soothed away some of the tension knotting his shoulders.

"I should be guiding him through this life-changing point," Clark admitted quietly. "Letting Joel know that no matter how much his world feels upended right now, he doesn't need to navigate all this alone."

He pulled back just enough to meet his mother's patient gaze. "But part of me is terrified too, Ma. That I've already failed him by not being better prepared and for the possibility of Joel following in my footsteps someday."

Martha clucked her tongue, gentle reproach coloring her warm blue eyes. "Now you listen here, Clark Kent. There's not a force on this earth that can fully prepare any parent to shepherd such extraordinary children." Her palm came to rest over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm beneath the faded flannel shirt.

"But if anyone is qualified to help Joel on this journey of discovery, it's his father who has walked the same remarkable path." Martha offered him a bittersweet smile. "So don't let fear steal away the chance to share vital parts of yourself during this turning point. You have so much wisdom to impart if you just remember to shine the light inward sometimes instead of only out at the rest of the world."

She patted Clark's broad chest, resolve reflected on him. "Now enough fretting for the moment. You've got a boy outside who needs his daddy right now more than all the pie crusts in Kansas."

He stepped out onto the weathered porch boards, scanning the scrubby field until he spotted Joel's lanky form folded up on the uneven planks. His son's attention remained fixed on some distant point, absently tracking his younger brother Jon who was currently trying to coax a neighbor's cattle dog into a game of fetch.

Clark crossed the short distance and lowered himself down beside the teenager. The old wood creaked beneath their combined weight. Up this close, Clark noted the lingering tension still visible in the set of Joel's narrow shoulders, the way his fingers picked restlessly at a splintering hole in the porch steps.

He reached over to give Joel's back a bracing squeeze. "C'mon, up and at 'em," he encouraged lightly with another gentle nudge until the boy unfolded his limbs. "Got a lot I want to show you before lunch."

Joel rose slowly, a confused look aimed at Clark's way as he trailed after his father. Their scuffed boots kicked up looping spirals of dust across the scrubby field. Soon the weathered farmhouse and Jon's distant whoops faded out of sight as they continued over gently rolling hills to a more secluded corner of acreage.

Halting at the crest of a gentle hill overlooking the sprawling farm, Clark pivoted to meet his son's shuttered gaze head-on. Joel immediately tensed, weight rocking subtly back on his heels.

Clark gentled his tone, hoping to smooth away some of those hackles raised in defense. "I realize you're probably still struggling to process everything that's changed overnight," he began. "Abilities you don't fully comprehend manifesting out of nowhere. Your entire perception of self and place in this world shifting radically with no warning."

Clark offered up an encouraging smile, hoping to temper some of that simmering dread he saw stewing behind his son's expression.

"I wish I could make all this easier to navigate," Clark continued heavily after an extended beat. "But the one thing I can start explaining is why extraordinary powers have surfaced in you now...and how this amazing biology of ours actually functions."

He held up the worn football still clutched in one broad palm, giving it a little shake. "Because at its core, our Kryptonian cells operate essentially like hyper-efficient solar batteries."

Joel's brows beetled together, guarded curiosity temporarily overriding lingering agitation.

Clark nodded at the unspoken prompt. "Earth's younger yellow sun radiates specialized wavelengths that activate our unique genetic structure on a cellular level. You could say those rays 'charge our batteries'."

He began slowly pacing a wide arc around his son's position. "That intense exposure translates into fuel converted for enhanced strength, healing, and senses. It even manifests as shielding around our bodies at a molecular level since our cells metabolize solar radiation so greedily."

Clark smiled, watching comprehension gradually dawn across Joel's face. "I'll give the full scoop soon," he pledged. "For now just try grasping that at our core, you essentially function as ultra-efficient solar batteries."

"So basically we're like super plant people or something?" the boy summarized slowly. One dark eyebrow quirked upward. "Photosynthesizing radiation super plants?"

A surprised bark of laughter escaped Clark, the sound rusty from disuse. But it felt damned good giving way to spontaneous humor again. "Yeah, something like that I suppose."

He cocked his arm back without warning, football hurtling sharply through the air. "Now think fast, power station!"