Superman Movieverse Forum

Title: Family Reunion
Author: Mr. Beeto
Rating: PG-13
Beta: htbthomas and Shado Librarian
Summary: AU Twist on Donner/Singer Movieverse: Tie the three films together into a cohesive whole, and provide a more credible and interesting reason for Superman to have returned to Krypton.

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Author’s Notes:
Special thanks again to the beta team of htbthomas and Shado Librarian.

Chapter 14 – Starting Over
Monday, September 25, 2006 9:30PM CDT
Kara was tucked into her bed, tightly clinging to the plush toy penguin that had become her favorite night-time accessory as her mind drifted in that nebulous place between sleep and consciousness. She was comforted by Shelby’s breathing and heartbeat at the foot of the bed, and was vaguely aware of voices niggling at the back of her mind. The voices became an increasing distraction, and she unconsciously extended her hearing, as her adoptive father had taught her, and recognized his voice along with her grandmother’s.

  They were talking about Praveena, the lady that they had seen earlier that night. She got really excited when Kal-El told her who they really were, and then she asked a whole lot of questions about what had happened on Krypton and how they felt about it. After they finished talking and her dad brought her home, he went back to talk to Praveena alone.

“I think we’ll do okay with this psychologist,” Clark whispered. “As overwhelmed as she was by the revelation, she still had the presence of mind to tell me to be quiet… She didn’t want me influencing Kara’s responses.”

“That sounds like a good sign,” Martha whispered back. “What did she say about the nightmares?”

“That there’s no quick fix. It can take children a long time to heal from a traumatic loss, and we’ll need to be patient. It could also get worse before it gets better, and there could be ‘incidents’ if sensory cues remind her of the loss.”

“I thought she was improving,” Martha commented quietly.

“Doctor Gupta thinks it’s possible that she hasn’t even begun to process the trauma yet,” Clark explained. “She might be spending all her mental energy right now on assimilation: learning the language and culture or trying to fit in at school. There might not be enough left over to deal with her loss.”

“What can we do?”

“Keep making it clear to her that she has our unconditional love and support - she seems to think she’s a burden. Doctor Gupta said that her best ally in her recovery is the family, which includes the Hubbards now. And things Kara can’t articulate well may come out in her play or creativity, so we should allow plenty of time for that and keep her supplied with paper and crayons. Doctor Gupta wants us to watch for anything unusual.”

Martha sighed, and the two were quiet for a moment. “I wish this was easier for her,” she lamented.

Kara recalled the conversation with Praveena, and all the questions about what had happened before they left Krypton. She hadn’t been able to answer them all, and the nice lady wouldn’t let Kal-El answer for her. Her parents had been upset with her for wandering off, but she had wanted to play with her friends. Her parents were now dead because of the delay. Her playmates were dead now, too. Kara felt the tears come, and tried to stay quiet while her body shook from the sobs.

She soon felt Shelby’s rough tongue licking away the tears, and shortly after that her dad lifted from her bed, pulled her onto his lap and held her. She wrapped her arms around him, and hugged him tightly as the sobs wracked her body. Eventually, her crying subsided and Kara muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” he asked sympathetically. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I heard one of the teachers at school say that I was a lot of work for you,” she whimpered.

Clark shifted her in his lap so he could look her in the eyes. “Kara, listen to me. You’re not a lot of work, and even if you were, you’d be worth it. You may not have been born my daughter, but you are my daughter now, and there is nothing more important to me. Finding you and bringing you home was one of the best things that’s happened to me. So don’t worry about what other people say. They don’t always know what they’re talking about.” Kara snuggled into her dad’s chest while he patiently rocked her. She eventually relaxed in his arms and fell asleep.



Tuesday, September 26, 2006 8:25AM EDT
Jimmy Olsen woke with a start from the pounding on his front door. He sleepily looked over at his nonfunctional alarm clock, which had been damaged in the EMP. Finally registering that the clock display was blank, he felt around on top of the night stand for his watch, and pulled it into view. Oh, no, he though, I’m so late! Jimmy scrambled out of bed, quickly pulling on pants and a shirt, and ran into the other room to answer the knocking on the door. He was surprised to see Clark standing there. His friend had the morning paper tucked under one arm, with the opposite arm behind his back. “No time to talk. I overslept,” Jimmy sputtered. He left the door open for Clark, and sprinted back into the bedroom.

“Jimmy, relax,” Clark called out. “The office is closed today. We just have to dial into the conference call at nine.”

Jimmy poked his head out of the bedroom. “Closed?” he asked.

“There was a message on the info line,” Clark explained. “Everyone was supposed to call in for status.”

“My phone was fried in the EMP.”

“Well, you‘re in luck,” Clark declared. He displayed the box he’d been hiding behind his back, which was a new cordless phone. “I figured you’d need this, and it’s also my way of saying thanks for letting me pour out my heart about Kara yesterday. “

“Gee, Clark, you didn’t need to do that,” Jimmy replied quietly. “That’s what friends are for… Thanks, though… Oh, it even has two handsets?” Jimmy tore the box open like a kid at Christmastime, and quickly went to work plugging in the base and installing batteries in the handsets before the moment of truth came. He pressed the talk button and lifted the handset to his ear. “Yes! We have dial-tone!” Jimmy exclaimed.

“I was thinking… I could pick up coffee and bagels while you get cleaned up and dressed, and we can dial into the conference call from here,” Clark suggested.

“Deal,” Jimmy agreed happily. He disappeared back into the bedroom, and Clark let himself out of the apartment.



Tuesday, September 26, 2006 9:05AM EDT
Jimmy set his new phone to speakerphone mode and called into the conference call as he and Clark finished off the bagels and coffee. There were numerous beeps as others joined the call bridge before George Taylor’s voice finally broke in. “Well, we might as well get started. Everyone, please put your phones on mute. The background noise could get a bit too distracting otherwise... Okay… First, the Planet is still in disaster mode. We won’t be putting out an afternoon edition today, and tomorrow’s morning edition will be printed here in Gotham again. That means we go to press at eight o’clock tonight.

“If we get all the parts delivered here in Gotham this afternoon like we’re hoping, we’ll be back up and operational in Metropolis tomorrow morning. However, it will probably take a couple days to get replacement phones and PCs on everyone’s desk. It’ll still be enough to run the business, though. We’re still in business today, too, but you’ll either have to use the emergency computer café and phone bank next to the computer room, or if you can find a functional PC and internet access, dial in remotely. The company will be posting status updates on our return to normal operations to the web portal and updating the message on the info line, so check before heading into work tomorrow. Perry?”

Perry White’s gruff voice barked out his instructions. “All right, everyone. Listen up! Despite the disaster, we still have a paper to put out, and I don’t want to print another thin edition like this morning’s was. Everyone needs to get their acts together and get the story in, and the story is Superman. I want to know it all. Everything. Olsen, I want photos. Iconic photos of Superman under stadium lights. Sports! How are they going to get that plane out of the stadium? Travel! Where’s he been? Fashion! Is that a new suit? Health! Has he lost weight? What’s he been eating? Business! How will his return affect the market? Lifestyle…. ‘Superman Returns’.”

There was a momentary pause, before Perry added, “Well, what’s everyone sitting around for? Hang up those phones and get out there! We have a paper to publish!” Clark and Jimmy heard a series of beeps as everyone hung up their phones before they also disconnected from the call.

“How am I going to get iconic photos?” Jimmy complained. “He never stands still long enough to get a good shot.”

“Well, there are a few spots around town where he’ll probably show up,” Clark suggested. “The FEMA command center, for instance. They’re set up in the Meteor Dome. ”

“FEMA’s here?”

“They rolled in last night. National Guard’s here now, too. In fact, Met Transit is using Guard busses for their routes this morning. Good thing, because they don’t have many of their own busses working and they only got two of the trains fixed in time for the morning commute. The only lines running are Glenmorgan and Bakerline.”

“Good thing I have my scooter,” Jimmy commented. “There’s enough room on the back to give you a ride down there with me. You are covering the FEMA stuff, right? You’ve got to be out of obits now with that front page story this morning.”

“Actually, I had an email from Sam this morning that said he’s still expecting me to do the obits,” Clark muttered. He looked up at Jimmy and continued, “I’ll pass on the ride. I’m heading in the other direction, but thanks for the offer. Maybe I’ll catch up with you later, though.”

“Well, if you’re sure you don’t need a ride,” Jimmy replied. “I guess we’d better get going.” Clark nodded his agreement and the two men left the apartment and headed out to their respective destinations.



Tuesday, September 26, 2006 9:30AM EDT
Lex Luthor found himself in an extraordinarily good mood as he relaxed to the sounds of Vivaldi’s Spring in the study of the Vanderworth mansion. Everything was going precisely according to his plan. The crystal sliver had produced a cross sectional area of nearly seven hundred square feet. Given its logarithmic growth curve, the remainder of his crystal seed would produce a continent of nearly twenty-five million square miles. It would consume most of North and Central America, over the course of a week, which would be plenty of time for those with means to transfer their fortunes to LuthorCorp in exchange for a small ocean-front apartment on Luthorland. It was coming just in the nick of time, too. Most of the Vanderworth fortune was still tied up in probate, and he’d nearly depleted the allowance Gertrude had provided for him.

Lex meticulously calculated the growth of his continent over each twenty-four hour period, entering the information into the mapping application on his PC, and generating the corresponding maps. We’ll need to get these maps printed before we plant the ‘seed’, Lex thought. There won’t be anyone left to do it afterwards. A sinister smile graced his face at the thought of his vision finally coming to fruition. The Luthor hegemony will soon begin.

Lex had just finished with the new maps when Grant entered the study and interrupted him. “Here’s the paper you wanted, Mister Luthor,” Grant informed him.

“Thank you, Grant,” Lex answered, the rare words of appreciation indicating his unusually upbeat disposition. He came out from behind the desk, took the folded paper, and continued walking through the French doors to join Kitty on the balcony. His smile and good humor evaporated when he unfolded the paper and caught sight of the front page headline and full color picture of Superman. He turned on Grant, holding the paper up to him. “What the hell is this? Some kind of joke?” he demanded to know. “The alien is dead!”

Kitty walked up behind the pair and peered around Lex to get a look at the front page. “He’s cute,” she commented. Lex glared menacingly at her before returning his attention to Grant.

“It’s, um… it’s all over the news,” Grant stammered. “He rescued the Genesis shuttle, and was busy all over Metropolis after the EMP yesterday afternoon. It’s been running on GNN all last night and this morning.

“And you didn’t think that was important enough to tell me?” Luther shouted. “What do you think he’s going to do when he realizes that he’s been robbed?” The color drained from Grant’s face as he considered that possibility.

Lex marched back into the study, turned on the television, and flipped the station to GNN. They were running the plane rescue again, just as Grant had described. “No!” Lex screamed. “Not now! Not when I’m so close!” He sank into the chair behind the desk, opened the paper and quickly read through the story. He afterwards dropped his head into his hands, rubbing the bridge of his nose while he analyzed the new information.

When I tracked him years ago, he was constantly heading north to the Fortress, Lex thought. He’s probably already been back there, which means he knows the crystals have been taken, and he may even have linked it to the EMP. If he tracks that back here, we’d be powerless to stop him from taking my crystals. I can’t let that happen.

I suppose I could accelerate my plans to seed Luthorland, but I’d have to bring Jor-El online to access those advanced alien weapons, and I can’t even do that until it grows a new console, Lex contemplated. And if the AI recognizes the House of El family crest on the freak’s chest, it might try to identify him before shooting him down, and if it identifies him as Kal-El…

No, it’s time for a strategic withdrawal, Lex decided. I need to level the playing field first, and take the alien out before bringing Jor-El online. “Everybody back to the yacht,” Lex commanded. “We’re getting out of here.”

“I’m sick of that boat,” Kitty complained. “Why can’t we stay here?”

“Once again… what do you think the alien is going to do when he realizes he’s been robbed?” Lex asked condescendingly. “And do you really want to be here when he figures out who it was?” Kitty rolled her eyes, and hurried out of the room behind Grant while Lex quickly gathered the crystals into a black cloth and followed them out.



Tuesday, September 26, 2006 10:00AM EDT
Lois settled back in her seat in the front row of Cape Canaveral’s conference hall and waited for Bobbie-Faye Roberts to step up to the podium. “Welcome ladies and gentlemen,” she began. “It’s good to see everyone safe and sound after yesterday’s adventure. As you know, the Genesis shuttle successfully launched into orbit despite yesterday’s technical difficulties during the launch, and the initial performance tests have confirmed our assertions on the shuttle’s design…”

After spending the next fifteen minutes spewing NASA’s public relations spin on the nearly disastrous launch, the time finally came for questions. Lois immediately shouted out to Bobbie-Faye and was awarded with the first question. “Miss Lane,” Bobbie Faye acknowledged.

“Two questions,” Lois began. “One, is NASA now willing to acknowledge what a foolishly reckless publicity stunt it was to host yesterday’s press conference on an unproven, experimental airframe, instead of holding it in this room, where press conferences are usually held? And two, given the magnitude of the EMP that disabled the shuttle’s clamp release mechanism yesterday, how can NASA be confident that no other shuttle systems were compromised and that you’ll be able to bring the astronauts safely home Saturday? Could we be looking at another Challenger?”

Bobbie-Faye frowned as she nervously delivered the scripted response. “Nobody could have anticipated yesterday’s events. Metropolis hospitals are full of people this morning who thought they were safe on the ground yesterday afternoon–”

“We wouldn’t all have nearly died yesterday if we’d been sitting in this room,” Lois interrupted. “And we wouldn’t be alive this morning to debate it but for the unexpected intervention of an external party.”

“Then you’ll be happy to know that the NASA administrator has strictly forbidden airborne press conferences moving forward, citing safety concerns,” Bobbie-Faye informed her. “Future press conferences will probably continue to be held here in this room… Next question?

“What about my second question?” Lois protested.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat it?” Bobbie-Faye asked politely.

“Given the magnitude of the EMP that disabled the shuttle’s clamp release mechanism yesterday, how can NASA be confident that no other shuttle systems were compromised and that you’ll be able to bring the astronauts safely home? Could we be looking at another Challenger?”

“The new shuttle was designed for a far more hostile environment than what the EMP presented yesterday. In fact, the metal skin surrounding the shuttle body would act as a Faraday cage to insulate the internal systems from the effects of an EMP–“

“Then why did the clamps fail to release yesterday?” Lois inquired insistently.

“The clamps extended beneath the belly of the shuttle, outside the protective skin,” Bobbie-Faye answered. “But rest assured that all systems will be put through a rigorous testing and inspection process before the Genesis returns this weekend…”



Lois walked into her hotel room, smugly satisfied that she’d thoroughly raked NASA over the coals at the press conference. It was nothing like the condescending dismissal her questions had provoked the previous day. Yes, the old Lois Lane is definitely back, she concluded. The other journalists at the press conference had followed her lead, challenging the obvious spin on the previous day’s events and pressing for details on NASA’s plans for verifying the shuttle’s systems. Science and technology wasn’t her forte, but the controversy over NASA’s disregard of obvious safety hazards until after an event occurred was right up her alley. It might even make the front page.

Lois pulled out that morning’s Daily Planet, which she had purchased at a book store on the way to the NASA news conference. Though gratified that see her story above the fold, she was more interested in the other front page article: “EMP Causes Chaos Across City” by Clark Kent. The EMP is the real story here, Lois concluded. And it’s happening in Metropolis while I’m stuck here in Florida. Metropolis’ Siegel International Airport was still closed, and other airports in the region were clogged up with travelers seeking alternate arrangements. The earliest commercial flight she could get was Wednesday morning, flying into Newark and driving down in a one-way rental. She was forced to accept that flight because with the Planet in disaster mode, she couldn’t ask Richard to fly down and get her.

Well, I can still try to ping my contacts in Metropolis, Lois thought. If their phones are working, that is. It’s probably safe to assume that the cell phones are still out. Lois booted up her laptop, accessed her contacts list, and punched in a number on her cell phone. “Ninth precinct, Sergeant Jimenez,” a woman answered.

“Lois Lane, Daily Planet,” Lois introduced herself. “I’m trying to reach Bill Henderson.”

“The Planet, you say? One of your people is already with the inspector. I forget the name. Big guy, black hair, glasses. Tripping over his own feet.”

“Kent,” Lois hissed.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Can you put the call through?” Lois requested with false cheer.

“He’s not available.”

“Just tell him it’s me,” Lois insisted. “He’ll take the call.”

“Ma’am, I’m not a secretary,” the sergeant answered shortly. “We have much more important things to worry about right now than coddling the press, especially when someone else from your paper already got through to the inspector. Good-bye.”

I’m going to kill him, Lois seethed. His second day back and he’s already trying to steal my story and scoop me. She set down her cell phone, and looked up another name from her contact list. Two can play at that game, farm boy.



Tuesday, September 26, 2006 5:30PM CDT
Superman extended his X-ray vision through his mother’s house as he approached over the corn. Ben was there, as expected, but he was surprised to see Becky Hayden also sitting down at the dinner table. I guess Kara had a playmate over this afternoon, he concluded. He slipped in through the back door a moment later, and joined the family in the dining room. “Hello, everyone,” he greeted them. He pulled Kara into a quick hug, and kissed the top of her head. “Have you girls been having fun?”

“I don’t know,” Kara mumbled noncommittally.

Clark turned to his mother and asked, “Is everything all right?”

“There was an accident over at the stables this afternoon,” Martha informed him quietly. “Some of the floor boards gave way, and Tom fell through. He broke his leg pretty bad, and they flew him to Wichita to operate on it. Sarah’s with him, and Ben’s watching Becky overnight.”

“Someone could have told me that earlier,” Clark complained.

“He was in good hands, and he’ll be fine,” Ben assured him. “He’ll be climbing the walls laid up in the hospital for a couple days, but he’ll be okay. If you’d like to help, though, I could probably use a hand inspecting their place for any more rotted floorboards.”

“We can take a look at it after dinner.”



When Clark and Ben returned from the Hayden’s place, they found both girls doing their homework at the dining room table, with Martha supervising. Clark smiled at them as he walked into the room and asked, “How’s the homework coming?”

“I’m almost done,” Becky replied cheerfully.

“I’m not,” Kara muttered.

  “I’ll help you go through it after I make a few phone calls.”

“I can make the calls,” Ben offered.

“What did you find?” Martha asked.

“Termites,” Clark answered. “The stables are infested, and it’s not something that I can easily take care of. We’ll need to get someone down from Wichita to handle it, and find someplace else for the animals to stay while they’re working on it. Once that’s done, I can replace the boards.”

“The Robertson’s had a termite problem on their house a few years back,” Ben recalled. “I’ll give Chris a call and find out who they used. They seemed pretty happy with them. I’ll also call Frank Long and see if he has room for the horses for a few nights.” Ben excused himself, and withdrew to the kitchen to make his calls.

Clark sat down beside Kara, peeked over her shoulder and scanned her work. It looked like math came easily to her, and her eidetic memory make answering the social studies questions effortless. However, the creative writing assignment was a struggle for her. She was supposed to write about something important that had happened to her, why it was important, and what lesson she learned from it. The page was still blank. “Are you having trouble coming up with something?” Clark whispered.

“You said we couldn’t tell anyone about Krypton,” Kara whispered back sadly, almost inaudibly.

“I have an idea,” Clark whispered to her. “You can write one about Krypton for Praveena, and maybe another one about coming to Smallville for your teacher here. Do you think that would work?” Kara nodded, and her brow wrinkled in concentration as she tried to figure out what to write. “Let’s get the Smallville one done first,” Clark suggested.

When Ben returned from making his calls, he found Becky on the living room floor watching television, and Clark huddled with Kara at the dining room table, working on whatever assignment she was struggling with. Martha walked over when she noticed him. “Did you get everything arranged?” she asked.

“I left a message with the exterminator, and Frank said he had room for the animals,” Ben informed her. He looked over at the tableau in the dining room and commented, “He seems to be adjusting to fatherhood rather well.”

“He had a good role model,” Martha whispered. “Kara’s in good hands.” She indulged in a brief glance over at her son and granddaughter as she guided Ben into the living room and reclaimed her seat on the couch. Kara couldn’t have asked for a better adoptive father, Martha contemplated. Perhaps he’ll realize that someday.

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