Awwww 12 y/o and Christmas!
S sat alone in his cell, on the rough army cot that served as his bed.
If that doesn’t encourage him to float, nothing will (except a naked Lois).
And yet, on the other hand, S had never really liked being alone, with no one to talk to.
He could scratch stories into the walls?
Things he didn't tell Jenson, or anyone, for that matter, about.
Things that terrified the twelve year old boy.
Hush, Clark. That’s totally normal for a boy your age.
The faltering heart rhythm of Eric Princely had alerted S to the fact that the man's heart was diseased. Princely had dropped dead an hour later.
Well, next time he’ll know to mention it?
What did he care if Cameron was upset with his son, Jason, for dropping out of college? What was college anyway?
Oh boy. See, Clark, it’s a place where strong boys learn on how to prey on the weak and girls.
If he tried hard enough, he could see right through objects.
Well, to be fair, Cameron has been pretty transparent even before that.
Every night since then, S had spent some time working on the ability, and enjoying the view it afforded him of the outside world.
"Leave enough food for S."
Let’s hope their dog has learned not to eat all of it at once.
He couldn't imagine what it would be like.
/imagines S trying to improvise by putting a couple of the staff into little parcels, using their clothes as wrapping material, trussing up and grilling Cameron, and then sitting down opposite Jenson for a peaceful meal of stuffed Trask/
He'd even settle just for one real friend.
Maybe he could conjure one up in his mind?
And, as he stared, a thin line of searing heat emanated from his eyes.
Oooooooooh!
S could hear their drunken singing, could hear the glasses of spiked eggnog clinking together as they all swallowed down another round.
I’m thinking someone’s not going to get their Christmas bonuses.
But gradually, S was able to focus it, strengthen it, and shape it into a effective, precise laser. S worked at the door until it he managed to cut a hole in it, wide enough for him to crawl through.
/imagines scene from The Phantom Menace/
It was, unfortunately, a huge red flag of how he'd escaped, but he didn't care.
CAMERON: Darn that Kenobi!
It perfectly matched the one he was forced to wear on the back and chest of all of his shirts, like a shameful brand, marking him as Cameron's property.
Oh my.
He couldn't read the words inside anyway. No one had ever taken the time to teach him.
How’s he supposed to find his target in a big city if he can’t read the signs?
Glancing around the room, his eyes flickered to the small globe resting on one of the bookshelves. S couldn't explain it, but he had always felt drawn to the object.
Oooooooh!
Satisfied, he stepped over to the shelf and grabbed the globe, stretching on the tips of his toes in order to reach the high shelf.
Oh dear. Will it immediate start to glow?
A single word formed in his mind, whispered from the deepest part of his consciousness.
Krypton.
S was barely aware of anything as he ran.
Is he going to run to Metropolis, so he can meet a feisty 11-y/o?
A noble gas.
How long would it take before his absence was noted?
Several days, unless they also have cleaning staff.
How long before they found his trail?
Depends on how deep a grove he dug while running.
He came across a flat swath of land dotted with farmsteads.
Oh my. The Kents?
Next to the tidy farmhouse was a work shed.
![[Linked Image]](http://cosgan.de/images/midi/frech/g042.gif)
An easel stood in one corner of the shed, a canvas still on it.
Michael
