Chapter 4: Family

The world waited anxiously for news about Superman. Unfortunately, every update they did receive was not good.

Of course, the spokesman at the hospital did not say much, but his bleak expression said more than enough.

Essentially, everyone had seen footage of Superman's fall and subsequent loading into the ambulance. Everyone knew he had been stabbed with the one substance on earth that could hurt him by a flying, armored man seen in the skies over Taiwan minutes before he had fallen in Japan. And they had been told pieces of the kryptonite were now trapped in him after the surgical team had gone in after weighing the risks. They had retrieved over 50% of the kryptonite, but unfortunately his body had healed too quickly, locking away the rest.

Superman’s condition was bad. His left lung had been punctured and he was suffering from kryptonite poisoning. They were running out of time. Superman was running out of time.

A special team from the States was currently on their way, but they were currently over five hours out.

‘Experts’ on less than classy news stations were quick to give their expertise, but it didn't take a genius to know being stabbed near the heart with a toxic substance was life threatening.

"He was stabbed in the second intercostal space, barely missing his heart," a talking head said.

"And he can't be transported, which tells me the remaining shards are dangerously close to major organs. They're afraid of killing him if they move him," another put in.

"The hospital administrator said he's conscious."

"From what I know of kryptonite, he might be better off unconscious."

Leslie Larr changed the channel, wondering what Morgan Edge, or rather Tal-Rho, would do. He had been gone for a while.

She trained her ears to the hospital in Japan, thousands of miles away.

"He's dying," a doctor said gravely. "Sure, getting out what we did gave him time, but it's not going to matter. He probably doesn't have two hours, let alone the five that he needs for the team to get here."

Broken, raspy breaths echoed in the room, joining rapid beeps from a heart monitor.

Leslie Larr supposed the plan didn’t need Kal-El, but she wondered . . . did Tal-Rho need Kal-El?

O o O

Dr. Shibasaburō looked at his deteriorating patient.

He was going in and out of consciousness but was surprisingly lucid when he was awake, like he was now.

His skin on his chest was marred by glowing green blotches and angry vines where his veins were being contaminated by the poison within him. They were branching up his neck now and the whites of his eyes had become tainted as well.

"I wish we could make you more comfortable," Shibasaburō lamented in Japanese. "You have given the Earth so much. I'm sorry."

Amazingly, Superman gave him a weak but gentle smile.

"Earth is my home," Superman answered faintly.

Shibasaburō was about to ask him if he wished to call anyone, but suddenly there was a loud bang and a whoosh, and a man seemingly materialized beside the bed, startling everyone in the room.

He was in a hooded, black trench coat, blocking the view of much of his face, but what had immediately drawn Shibasaburō's eyes was the shield emblem on his chest.

It was somewhat like Superman's 'S' but this man's 'S' was rotated, heavily slanted, and silver.

Most of his face remained shrouded beneath the darkness of the hood, so it was anyone's guess as to what he looked like, but his posture appeared grim as he stared down at Superman.

And then he shifted his stance and turned to Shibasaburō and the others in the room, his face still mostly hidden.

"Do not interfere," he ordered before looking back at Superman and speaking in a language Shibasaburō had never heard before. The man sounded apologetic.

Superman blinked at him, surprised and confused, but responded in the same language.

The man smiled faintly as he carefully laid the bed back completely flat and detached everything from Superman except the oxygen mask.

Shibasaburō and the others looked at each other, unsure of what to do, when the man promptly leaned over Superman. He then braced his inner left forearm across both of Superman’s collarbones, gripping Superman’s bare shoulder with his left hand, and placed his right hand against the bottom of Superman’s ribcage. Superman was securely pinned down.

The man asked a question, still speaking the foreign language. He seemed to have asked Superman if he was ready.

Superman gasped out an answer as he nodded.

Shibasaburō wasn’t ready, and neither were the other medical professionals present when the unknown man’s eyes abruptly flared red beneath the hood, enveloped by pure power that lit up his eyes and surrounding skin. And then the relentless beams came down, right into Superman's chest.

Understandably, Superman screamed, his bellow shaking the walls of the hospital as he bent his legs and tilted his head back, but the man held fast and kept him down and his torso still.

The nurses screamed in terror and some of the doctors moved forward, though to do what Shibasaburō didn’t know.

Superman’s cry stuttered as the man’s dual beams shifted. The other doctors stopped their advance when they saw Superman bring his hand up and grip the man’s arm near his ribcage, but he didn’t try to remove it. He didn’t struggle against the man hurting him.

Superman grit back further screams, though tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes as the man continued sending down relentless focused beams of coursing red heat.

There was commotion in the hall but Shibasaburō couldn’t turn away from what was happening right in front of him.

The man spoke again, his voice holding a calm certainty as his heat vision narrowed, targeting the leftmost area of Superman's chest, likely within his lung.

Superman tightly clenched his jaw as he stared up at the ceiling, his eyes seemingly vacant as he did all he could to endure.

Finally, the red light receded and Superman went slack and gasped for breath, exhausted yet alive. The man straightened, but before anyone could say or do anything, he promptly sat Superman up before slinging Superman's limp arm over his black covered shoulders and stood, hoisting him from the bed to his feet.

Superman grunted in surprise, his chest now clear of green but glistening with raw, new skin as he struggled and failed to stand under his own power. The man supported him, and then disappeared with him out the window without a word.

O o O

They were living a nightmare.

Her father had just called her.

Clark was worse. The doctors feared help would not arrive in time.

She had turned the television off, but in the end she put it back on and sat between Jon and Jordan on the couch.

The news reports were bad, but the buzz on social media was worse and the twins definitely didn't need that; however, she also couldn't lock out the world completely. That would be just as bad. So the only thing she could really do was have them stay with her. They would wait and learn what was happening together.

"Mom, what if . . . ?" Jordan asked, tears in his eyes. "He can't. . . ."

"I know," Lois said, wishing she knew what to say.

She was afraid too and mentally going through dozens of scenarios, none of them pleasant.

What if he did die now?

After finally telling the twins the truth about himself, with so many unknowns for their future, and long before any child should lose their father.

She hugged the twins to herself as she sent a silent prayer before looking at the screen.

Countless reporters were assembled outside the hospital, along with wellwishers, desperate for another update. It was late afternoon there now, while for Lois and most of the US, it was very very early morning. Really, they should all be asleep.

Suddenly, from the television, a cry, wrought with agony, pierced through the air, alarming the assembled people at the front of the hospital and rocking Lois to her core.

"Clark," she choked.

The cry petered out, as if stifled, which only caused people to flounder over it more. Everyone instinctively knew who it had come from.

"Mom?" Jon asked, scared.

"I don't know. I'm sorry, I wish there was more I could say, something we could do instead of just waiting," she said, wiping away her own frustrated and scared tears. "Your grandfather will call us when he knows something."

After what felt like an eternity, her cellphone rang.

"I'm still getting information and I need to call some people as soon as I'm off with you. He left the hospital, or rather was taken. Someone we're assuming is a Kryptonian showed up, burned out the kryptonite with their heat vision, and then took him. That's all I know," Sam spouted.

"What?! So he's okay!? He healed!?" she asked, Jon and Jordan both listening intently.

"From what the doctors who were there are telling us, yes, though he's weak."

"And this person just took him?" Lois asked, both relieved and alarmed. “Did they say anything?”

"They spoke in a different language. We’re thinking it was Kryptonian. Superman didn’t resist.”

“That’s something at least,” Lois said, relieved in knowing that whatever was happening now was much better than how things had been going a few hours before.

“Call me if he shows up,” Sam said, before abruptly hanging up.

O o O

Tal-Rho landed in the courtyard of his villa in Italy and gently helped his brother lay down on the lawn chair overlooking the pool.

"Thank you," Kal-El said, taking a deep breath.

It was morning in Italy, with the sun’s rays making the pool glisten and his skin tingle.

“You should begin feeling better soon,” Tal said, doing a good job hiding his relief as he pushed back his hood.

What if he had been too late? He would have lost his brother, the whole reason why he had defied his father and altered everything.

And now he knew he had done the right thing. His father had been wrong about Kal-El. He was not weak. He had endured immeasurable pain, willingly, without question, to live. Tal hadn't even really needed to keep him still when he burned out the kryptonite.

Beside the pool, Kal-El quietly watched him, clearly curious but unsure of what to ask first. Finally, he decided on a question.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Tal-Rho, brother,” Tal answered, committing everything he could in the present moment to memory, relishing in the fact Kal-El, his little brother, was avidly listening to him. “And as hard as it may be to believe, I’m the son of Zeta-Rho and Lara Lor-Van.”

Kal tilted his head, and Tal knew he was wondering if he had heard wrong. “Brother?”

“I know how unlikely it may seem, but the two of us . . . we share the same Kryptonian blood,” he said, amazing himself by how level his voice was even though his heart was hammering away.

How long had he dreamt of this moment? How many times had he envisioned how his brother would react?

Countless times.

And now he would need to decide how much to share with his brother. How quickly he should tell him about his plans. Would his brother help him?

“That’s not possible. My mother. . . .” Kal began before trailing off and sitting up. He looked at Tal intensely.

Was he looking for something? Mentally comparing their features? Could he see how much they resembled each other? Or was there something instinctive telling him Tal was right?

Tal moved forward and sat down on the rock beside the pool so they would be eye level with one another.

“Our mother married Jor-El, your father, yes, but only years after she’d been matched to my father, and years after I was born. It was when she first warned that Krypton was dying. The very reason my father sent me here. I was the first son of Krypton to leave. . . .”

“Why didn’t you come to me? Why did you wait until now?” Kal asked.

Tal swallowed, knowing those questions had been inevitable.

“I landed in the British countryside, but I was not greeted. I was hunted.” Even now the memory affected him. He recalled the confusion and the fear. His pounding heart. “Trapped. And caught.”

Tal wanted to look away, and yet he wanted to see how his brother responded. Would he respond in pity? Anger? Denial?

Kal-El was still, his expression remaining attentive and yet. . . .

“I was kept hidden from the world for years. A piece of alien meat, an experiment for them to learn why I had abilities,” Tal said. "When I saw the chance to break free, I did. And later, when I learned of your existence. . . . Brother, there is so much to tell you."

“I’m glad you escaped. Are the people responsible . . . ?” Kal kept his eyes on his, and Tal was struck by the firm intensity within them. He wanted to know if the people were still a threat. A threat to Tal.

Tal was suddenly slammed with the realization that for the first time in his life someone actually cared about his well-being. Cared enough to venture out an inquiry whose response might require true effort to address.

“They’re not around anymore,” Tal assured. “But thank you, brother.”

Kal nodded, his face contemplative. “I admit I’m finding all of this hard to fully wrap my head around, but assuming I’m not hallucinating and you’re real, I don’t understand why my father never mentioned . . . well, you. Surely he knew about you?”

Tal initially wanted to scoff at the idea of Jor-El actually caring enough to spare a thought about him, but then he was suddenly very curious as he realized something.

“You have a sunstone crystal as well?” Tal asked.

Kal nodded before growing thoughtful. “You know, why don’t we go talk to my father?”

Tal straightened, surprised.

His brother would just take him to his sanctum just like that? Though . . . maybe it was because he doubted him? But if he doubted him, wasn't taking him risky?

“If that is what you wish, brother,” he said amiably before quickly noting Kal’s attire.

He was still shirtless and wearing hospital garb.

“But first, why don’t you change into something presentable. You can take what you need from my wardrobe,” he offered, standing up.

Tal was a little taller than Kal, but everything should still fit well enough. Tal's heart swelled. They had a very similar build – because they were brothers.

“Oh. Okay,” Kal said, following him into his house.

Kal looked around. Tal smirked and inwardly basked in Kal’s obvious awe.

How did Kal live when he wasn't Superman? Something told him his life was not very extravagant.

“I have several homes like this around the world,” Tal stated.

“Wow.” Kal was impressed. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do? I mean, you must have some career.”

Tal laughed. “I’m a businessman, Kal. Surely you realize people of our talents can branch out and produce a lucrative income.”

Kal rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled uncertainly. “Yeah, I suppose.”

Tal tilted his head, confused, before shaking it off and picking out a casual but classy outfit comprised of light blues and browns. He also grabbed shoes and socks.

“Here you are, brother. And keep them.”

“Thank you.” Kal dressed quickly and soon they were back outside.

"What's wrong, Kal-El?" Tal asked as Kal looked up at the sky hesitantly.

"I just realized, it's probably not a good idea for me to fly right now. I still feel . . . a little winded," Kal admitted.

"Well then, I can fly us," Tal offered, trying not to appear too happy at the prospect.

This was going far better than he had ever imagined.

Kal looked at him, his expression unreadable. It was a blend of thoughtfulness and wonder, as well as something Tal could not place.

"What?" Tal asked.

"I don't know. So much has happened so quickly. A few hours ago, I was fighting to stay alive and now I'm in Italy with a brother I didn't even know existed. It's all really hard to believe, and yet, standing here, it doesn't feel so unbelievable. I don't know if I believe it all yet, but . . . I want to," Kal said.

Tal beamed. "Well, brother, believe it, because it's true."

Kal chuckled. "You sound like an older brother."

"Do I?" Tal asked, pleased beyond he could say.

"Yeah, you do," Kal said, amused.

"Good. Alright, shall we then?"

Kal nodded and stepped beside him, letting him grab hold of his arm, and then, with Kal's silent guidance, they headed north.

“The Arctic, brother?” Tal questioned, not sure if he should be appalled or amused as they landed on the snow and ice.

“I needed a place away from anyone who could find me,” Kal defended.

“I got that in the Badlands, but to each his own,” Tal said as they entered the inner chamber side by side.

Kal activated the podium and Jor-El materialized.

Tal couldn’t help but stiffen as so much emotion solidified in his chest upon seeing the man.

This was the man who had taken his mother away from him. Who had damned him to a life with his father, alone.

“Father,” Kal greeted happily, oblivious to the turmoil within Tal.

“Son, who have you brought here?” Jor-El asked, his voice neutral as his eyes took notice of the shield of Rho.

“Tal-Rho. He told me he is my half-brother,” Kal answered, watching his father closely, both curious and wary.

Tal didn’t blame him as he suddenly wondered how his own father would have reacted if he presented Kal-El to him with no forewarning.

Jor-El’s eyebrows rose, surprising Tal by his rather animated response. However, what truly took him aback was how excited his expression became.

“Tal-Rho? Oh, I wish Lara was here! She would be elated!” Jor-El declared.

“What?” Tal asked, rather baffled.

Kal was as well, which made Tal feel slightly better.

“How did you get here? Lara had tried to convince your father to send you away from Krypton before it was too late, but he refused!” Jor-El told him.

“What?” Tal asked again.

“Father? Is that why you never told me about him? You thought he was dead?” Kal asked.

“Yes. I saw no purpose in piling more grief upon you. To tell you you had lost a half-brother as well as an entire people would have given you nothing but more sorrow,” Jor-El answered before looking back at Tal. “Oh, how many nights Lara had wept for you, to see you now grown. . . . She had feared you were forever lost with that monster, afraid Zeta-Rho would–”

“Monster?” Kal asked, cutting Jor-El off.

Kal looked at Tal, alarmed.

Tal supposed there was no point in hiding it.

“My father was not a kind man. And pain was a weakness my father removed from me after I arrived here. He was another reason why I couldn’t reach out before.”

“Tal. . . .” Kal was speechless.

Tal turned away from him and looked at Jor-El, but he immediately wanted to look back at Kal. However, he found he couldn’t. The grief on Jor-El’s face struck him more deeply than his father’s harsh words ever had. And he didn't understand why, which disturbed him more.

“We tried to take you from him,” Jor-El stated after a moment. “When we first learned of your existence, Lara tried to appeal to the Council, but she was denied. A few weeks later, Lara devised a plan to take you, to sneak you out, but Zeta’s defenses were too strong and she was nearly caught. We tried again when you were older, but she was caught that time. Fortunately, she managed to convince Zeta that she had broken into his compound to talk to him, to warn him about the coming disaster. It was then she begged him to save you, to send you to safety. To Earth. In the end, she had to use her memory crystal to bargain for her own release.” Jor-El sighed, continuing to gaze at Tal-Rho.

“How I wish we had succeeded in taking you from that man. I am so sorry we failed, but I’m so glad you are here now, with Kal-El. Lara had been so afraid. Afraid Zeta would hurt you and twist your mind to do his bidding.”

Tal swallowed, feeling more shaken than he ever had before.

He mentally reviewed all the stories his father had told him about his mother, before comparing them to what he had just been told.

It made sense. It actually made sense.

Through the years, he had found holes in his father’s words. Identified contradictions and straight up lies. It was part of the reason why he had snapped when his father had refused his desire to include Kal-El all those years ago.

And now he knew that the real reason he was alive and on Earth was because of his mother. Because she had tried to take him from his father and had ended up warning Zeta. Because of her, Zeta had obtained a rocket for him to go to Earth in time.

But there was still doubt.

What he had just heard couldn't really be true, could it?

But if everything Jor-El had said was actually true, what else was? And what else was wrong?

How much of his life had been built on his father's deceit and manipulations? And how much were they still influencing him?

He needed to verify what he had learned, and there was really only one way to do that.

“Tal?” Kal asked, coming up beside him, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I am, brother. I was just . . . reminded of something. Forgive me. I need. . . . I need to go.” He took a few steps away.

“Tal. Everything that’s happened, whatever has happened, it’s in the past. You’re here now. I won’t lie and say all of this isn't a lot, because it is, but . . . you have me now. We’re brothers. Things are going to be okay,” he said, approaching him.

And then Kal touched him, gripping his shoulder with his hand. Gripped his shoulder exactly how Tal had always imagined.

“I need to do something, Kal-El. I’ll find you when I know,” Tal managed.

Kal blinked at him, confused, and at first Tal expected him to demand answers, but instead he slowly nodded.

“Okay. I should head home myself,” he said, causing Tal to grow curious in turn. “Go do whatever you need to do. I’ll be around when you’re done.”

Tal smiled, feeling reassured despite how uncertain he currently felt. He turned, about to depart, when he hesitated.

"Will you be okay to leave here on your own?" Tal asked, wanting to slap himself for forgetting his brother was still recovering.

"I think so. The sunlight on the way here helped a bit," Kal assured.

Tal hummed, not really believing him, and looked at Jor-El. "Can you scan him? Make sure he's properly recovered before I go?"

Jor-El looked at Kal, alarmed and concerned. "Kal-El."

Kal went forward and a light immediately shined down. After a few seconds, the light shut off. Jor-El frowned.

"There are zones within your chest that are recovering from severe kryptonite poisoning, particularly your heart and left lung. How were you exposed and how was the kryptonite removed?” Jor-El asked.

“I was stabbed and the shard shattered inside me. Tal incinerated the pieces before it was too late,” Kal explained, giving Tal a grateful nod.

“My deep gratitude to you, Tal-Rho. You are your mother’s son,” Jor-El replied.

“Is Kal sufficiently recovered?” Tal pressed, ignoring the strange pang of emotion that rattled in his chest at Jor-El’s last statement.

“Yes. It will take a few days for him to fully recover, but within an hour he will be alright to fly on his own,” Jor-El replied. "At least enough to get home."

Tal nodded his relief before looking at Kal. “I don’t know how long this will take me, brother, but I will come to you when I’m finished.”

“Alright, Tal,” Kal said.

And then Tal shot out of the ice cavern, intent on one thing.

Activating their mother's crystal.

O o O

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