Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic The Forgotten - Chapter 12

Chapter 12
When Did You Last See Your Father?

For the rest of the day, the rescuers searched tirelessly for survivors, but the area had been so obliterated by the mass of the slide that most of those who'd been buried had little chance of survival. Yet they had found a few lucky people at the logger's complex.

Some diners in the one and only restaurant had taken refuge in a basement which had been dug out of the hillside, a tiny underground refuge, which, sadly would have become their tomb, had it not been for Jor-El's x-ray vision. He had found them in time and had burrowed into the earth and brought them safely to the surface, where, once again, Letour had been waiting to lift the traumatized and injured onto makeshift stretchers. From there they had been carried to more stable ground on the two excavators.

Finally, though, even those tracked vehicles had been trapped in the mud, or secondary slides, and late in the afternoon, one of the teams had been almost killed by the shifting earth giving way beneath them. Thankfully, Jor-El's speedy intervention had saved the situation from becoming too dire, but one of the rescuers had broken his leg.

MacDonnell saw this occurrence as a warning that his men were worn out. He'd quickly conferred with rescue headquarters and it was agreed that the local teams should pull back to the medical camp and leave the work of recovery to the reinforcements who had begun to arrive around noon. It was a difficult decision to make, abandoning the chance that any of their own people might still be alive out there... and, more than anyone, Letour had fought against falling back. Only when Jor-El had crossed and recrossed the area, searching with all of his enhanced senses, and reported back that he could find no signs of life, did Letour consent to withdraw.

Jor-El and Letour were the last of the original rescuers to leave. Indeed, the superhero had first ignored the order, decreeing that being invincible meant he should stick around to assist the new squads. But, this time, Jor-El had been given an ultimatum by Letour, who'd stated he would only go if they left together.

It hadn't taken much insight on Letour's part to realize that the hero was dreading the thought of digging out the bodies. A young man, whether he was Kryptonian or not, shouldn't have to witness such horrifying scenes. Besides, Jor-El had given his all to ensure that those who had survived the first impact would live on, and that was what mattered most. Tragically, there was no urgency for the dead.

The Botanical Centre was strangely empty as Jor-El approached with his passenger. Sometime during the past few hours the rains had stopped and a fitful sun peered from behind slate gray clouds. The calmer weather conditions had allowed the helicopters to join the emergency ground crews and they'd set up camp on a flatter section of land a little to the west of the MacDonnells' homestead.

The noise of the rescue operations, however, still filtered through the heavy air; helicopters buzzing like busy bees around a hive, ferrying the injured and the displaced to hospitals and shelters far from the scene of the tragedy. There were only a few injured, mainly those whom the superhero and his fellow workers had found, but some shocked and frightened locals had appeared at the camp throughout the day. People who had been away from the village and the logging town, returning to find they no longer had a home... a family or friends, discovering they had nothing left but the clothes on their backs and what they carried with them. But, at least, they were alive. In their pain and grief, very few could find comfort in that fact.

There was little comfort either in the hearts of Jor and Letour as they made their way, slowly, towards the centre where a worried Marje sat waiting on the porch. Her husband had been brought home a little earlier by the military. He'd informed her, somewhat testily, that both Letour and Jor-El were as stubborn as each other and had refused to leave until Jor-El did another search of the area, just to be sure there was no one left who could be saved....

“Which, lassie, is a totally daft notion!” Mac had declared, stomping into the house and stripping off his outer clothes, leaving dirty puddles on her floor, which was already filthy due to all the traffic that had passed through during this dreadful night and day. “Can they no see that a'body who's still under that muck cann'ae still be breathing? It's been too long... much too long....” Mac's shoulders drooped and his voice ended on a gulping, tearing intake of breath. “Letour's goin' tae make himsel' ill, Marje, and he isn'ae a well man to begin with.... And I mightn'ae know all there is tae know about superheros, but I'm thinkin' Jor-El's no that invulnerable either. He's pushed himsel' tae his limits, if ye were tae ask me... not that anybody is askin' me.... Both their hearts are breakin'. Ye can see it in their eyes....”

“And yours isn't?” Marje asked, going to her husband and wrapping her arms around him, despite the mud and the stink of damp, cloying decay. “Oh, Mac, what are we to do? So many of our friends are gone....”

“Aye, lass. It's worse than ye could ever imagine. Nearly a' the village folk.... But, at least, Li-Ying and her family are safe.” Mac's head came up, and for the first time he looked around him, the stillness of his house registering in his brain. “Where is a'body?”

“The authorities moved the injured to their own camp. I believe they're flying them to hospitals in Chanchung... once the doctors have looked them over.”

“Whit are they takin' them sae far awa fer? This is their home!”

“Mac, they have no homes. Have you looked from the balcony? There's nothing left but a sea of brown mud. But before you get too upset, I've told Li-Ying and the Commandant in charge of the rescue operations, that she and her family have a home with us. To tell the truth, I think the Commandant was relieved; it means he has to find shelter for a few less people... and some of the other locals have opened their homes to their friends. So don't be thinking that everyone is leaving.”

The Scotsman sighed, but this time in relief. “Guid! Because we're goin' tae need a' the help we can get tae rebuild this place!”

“Your not thinking of leaving? A fair swathe of our forest has disappeared,” Marje ventured tentatively.

“Leaving? Have ye lost yer senses, lass?” Mac stood back to stare at his wife. “There's still forest out there... and whit's gone will grow back. Folks need us more than ever, Marje, and maybe they'll listen tae our warnings about over loggin' now.”

Marje frowned sceptically. “For a time... maybe.”

“Aye, ye could be right, but I'm no budgin'. Of course, if ye wanted tae leave, I wuidn'ae stop ye....” Mac held his breath, waiting for an answer.

“Don't be daft, Mac. You think I care any less than you? This is our home, the only home we've ever shared together. The MacDonnells don't cut and run when the going gets tough.”

For the first time in many long hours, Mac smiled a genuine smile. “That's my lassie! Oh, jings!” he groaned. “Dae ye know how hard it is tae laugh with half a mountainside stickin' tae yer face?” Mac breathed in deeply and noticed the pungent smell emanating from his body. His nose twitched in disgust. “And I smell like a slurry pit. I should tak a shower.”

That had been almost thirty minutes ago and now Mac sat dozing by the fire, a glass of his treasured 'water of life' clasped in his fist. Marje had tried to pry it from his fingers, but even in sleep, he was still a determined old coot!

His wife, on the other hand, might be feeling tired, but she was too anxious to nap. Instead, she'd pottered about the living room, tidying away part of the chaos, but even that hadn't soothed her troubled heart. Her mind was still out there with Letour, worrying about what could be keeping him from returning. She knew he had to be almost spent... and that young Krytponian boy....

Now she'd seen Jor-El up close, she knew, without a shadow of doubt, that he was just a teenager, and as she'd moved outside to sit and watch for their return, she wondered where Jor-El lived on Earth. Superman, his father might be gone, but did he have a mother somewhere who fretted about his wellbeing while he was off doing superthings?

Since the people of Earth had lost their first hero, they'd been a little more appreciative of the man who had come to take his place... and yet, in one way, perhaps that hadn't been such a good thing. The media had been more respectful and hadn't tried to pry too much into Jor-El's private life. Certainly, the new hero had never been beset by the malicious gossip which had at times dogged his father. Yet, keeping their distance from him might have made life a little lonely for the youthful visitor from a far off planet.

Marje hoped he had friends here... people to look out for him, to support him and to sooth his bruised spirit when he returned from disasters to wherever he called his home. Everyone deserved to have someone waiting for them.

With that sentiment, her troubled thoughts returned once more to their own Letour. He was such a fine, caring man... and he had nobody, except herself and Mac. No one should be so alone in the world as Letour; a man without memories, almost without an identity of his own; a man so traumatized he was afraid to seek out what he'd lost.

Mac and she had done their best to give him a home, a sense of security, hoping that his memory would return, or that he'd gain the confidence to return to America where he obviously came from. Perhaps being back in his own country might jog his memory. She could ask Jor-El to fly Letour to the States... if he'd agree to leave here, that was.

Of course, she'd talk to Mac about her plan, though she was pretty sure he'd back her up. He was always attempting, in his uniquely unsubtle way, to suggest that Letour should search for information about himself. Yet, for all that her husband was as tactful as a herd of elephants, he wasn't necessarily wrong.

Just maybe, this time, between the two of them they could persuade the man, who had become a part of their family, to accept a lift back home from the superhero. She had no doubt that Jor-El would agree to help.... After all, wasn't that what he said he was here on Earth for.

For some time, Marje had been watching the two figures, suspended side-by-side in the sky, gradually moving in her direction and, as they touched down, she rose to greet them. This time, when Jor-El flew in, there had been no grand entrance... no flourish of the cape, nor folded arms pose to set her heart beating faster. Just a weary youth, fretting over the state of his companion.

“Hurry and come into the warmth,” she called to both men and held her breath as Letour tripped, but relaxed again as Jor-El's hand reached out to hold him. “You must be totally exhausted... and before you go telling me, young man, that you're super, I'll tell you to save your breath. Under all that mud you're as white as a sheet... both of you. What were you thinking of Letour? That you're invulnerable too?”

Marje's worry sharpened her voice as she hurried down to help Letour climb the steps.

“Marje, I'm fine, really. Worry about all the others we've left behind.” Letour's voice was raw, deadened by the ordeal he'd worked so hard to relieve.

“I know, but the injured are being taken care off... and the others will be looked after by a higher power than I. Right now, all I can do is make sure that you're well. So come in and lets get you cleaned up... and you as well, young man. I can't send you back to whoever is waiting for you in that state.”

*****

Matthew Kent stuck his head and shoulders under the faucet of the old steel sink, hoping to sluice away the mud and dirt from the upper part of his uniform, at least. His first plan had been to swim in the ocean on the way home, but he was too concerned for his new friend, who was barely managing to stand on his own in the shower cubicle, to leave so quickly. Besides he wanted to check up on the injured whom he'd managed to rescue... and, of course, to offer his services in retrieving the bodies of those he couldn't save.

A shudder coursed through him and his throat contracted. There were just too many of the latter, and it hurt like hell to acknowledge that fact. He might be able to clean the traces of the disaster from his body, but the memory of these last horrific hours would remain imprinted on his soul for a long time to come.

"You do what you can, Matt, and that's enough!"

He could hear his mother's voice inside his head, but somehow, right at this moment, he didn't believe her mantra to be true, though he had to admit that many of those who hadn't survived were probably dead by the time he reached China... had indeed died minutes after being swamped by the landslide. He had done as much as was possible... yet knowing that didn't help assuage his guilty hurt.

With the arrogance of youth he'd believed he could make a difference... now he'd learned that sometimes his efforts were little more than futile, and that knowledge threatened to overwhelm him. But Matt had inherited his mother's doggedness along with his father's compassion; despite his distress there was no way he would leave without finishing the job.

Standing straight and shaking the water droplets from his head and neck, he stared at himself in the mirror above the sink and decided his ducking hadn't improved matters much. He was now streaked instead of caked and though he might be invulnerable, it appeared he wasn't immune to feeling itchy.

He contemplated taking a short flight to the lake and immersing himself in its waters. Surely the whole volume of the lake couldn't be contaminated by the slide and he could be there and back in a matter of minutes; however, just as he decided on this course of action, he heard a stumble from within the closed cubicle.

"Mr Letour," he called out. "Is everything all right?"

There was a slight moan and then the rasping voice answered. "Yes, I'm fine, Jor. I slipped. No great damage done, though I expect I'll have another scrape to join the others I've picked up today."

Matt frowned, though in surprise, not in anger. Mr Letour had shortened his name to Jor; a habit only used by the family and once again Matt experienced a strange feeling of deja-vu.

"If you're waiting for your turn, I'll be out in just a moment," continued the disembodied voice, barely audible above the noise of running water. "Though I'm finding this mud pretty hard to shift. It's set like concrete."

"No! Oh, no. Take your time. I was thinking I might take a swim in the lake to clean off, but I didn't want to leave you if you were feeling unwell."

"Not unwell," Letour answered, though that wasn't exactly true. "Just done in. That's the trouble with being a little older. Please, feel free to do whatever you think's best. I'll be OK."

"Well, if you're sure. It won't take me more than a few moments. I'll be back."

With a swoosh and a gust of wind, Jor-El shot out of the bathroom and through the living room, causing Marje who was back to tidying her house to ask of her dozing husband, "What was that?"

But a disgruntled snore was her only answer. Mac had never stirred. So much for a hurricane rousing the dead, but as she watched her outside door slam, she guessed the cause. The superhero had left, and without a goodbye, which didn't seem to be in keeping with the young man's mannerable ways. Oh well, perhaps superheros didn't stick around for thankyous or cups of Oolong tea which she had prepared, knowing it was one of Letour's favourites.

Oh, and that French doctor Adrienne was going to be disappointed. She'd wanted to talk to Jor-El about something that she deemed important, though Marje could only speculate on what that might be. Nevertheless, her instincts were telling her that those two didn't turn up here on chance alone. It was all very mysterious, but nothing that Marje could figure out on her own, so she automatically went back to her housework.

She was beginning to feel the strains of the day and her back ached as she bent down to pick up some dirty dressings which had fallen beneath the table. For a moment she leaned heavily on her broom. Her bed was going to be very welcome this night, though not yet. She still had to rouse Mac and, more importantly, check that Letour had suffered no hurts... at least, no physical hurts. Each one of them would have their demons to fight after this horrifying ordeal, and Letour more than most, since Mac had told her he'd been at the forefront of most of the rescues.

Letour might try to keep himself to himself but Marje had recognised long ago that he was an especially sensitive soul -- it was why she'd grown so fond of him.

The door opened behind her and in strode a much cleaner young hero, though he was dripping all over her floor. So she'd been right about his sudden leave taking being out of character.

"I'm right glad to see you're back, Jor-El, but if you don't mind, I'd rather you didn't drip all over my newly mopped floor." she said, gruffly, trying to disguise the fact that her heart was aching for the shadow of pain she saw in his eyes. "I was hoping you'd stop by so we can tell you how grateful we are for all you've done for us."

Jor-El looked sheepish as he scanned the spreading puddles at his feet. "I'm sorry, Mrs MacDonnell.... I'm always getting in trouble for that...." The poor boy's stare froze at his obvious faux-pas, like a mouse encoutering a snake. "I'll just go outside...." He gestured with his hands nervously.... "and dry off."

He was out the door in a flash and, after sounds like that of a spinning dervish floated into the house, he marched back into the room, drying the mess he'd made earlier with his heat vision.

"You'd be a mighty handy person to have around the house," Marje remarked, keeping the conversation light. She didn't want the young man to bolt.

"Aye, ye're a pretty useful laddie tae have anywhere," a voice from the fireplace chirpped up, as Mac finally awakened from his slumber. "Come intae the house and rest up. Ye might be super, but ye've been workin' hard for hours. Ye deserve a wee libation and a warm before ye head off home... and dae ye no have Letour with ye?"

"Mac, you lummox, you've been fast asleep this past hour. Jor-El brought Letour home, and he's in the shower." As Marje spoke the noise of running water died away. "Maybe you should go and see how he's doing, Mac. He doesn't look too well. I'm wondering if he's getting one of those terrible headaches."

"If you don't mind, Mrs MacDonnell," Jor-El interrupted just as Mac put down his glass and lumbered to his feet. "I'd like to check up on Letour. He's helped me so many times today and I'd like to return the favor."

"That's a very nice thought, Jor-El." Marje smiled at the boy in the black uniform, which wasn't totally clean, but was a great improvement on some minutes ago. At least the blue S shield on his chest was glinting through the dirt. "I'm sure Letour would appreciate your concern...."

"And a wee bit help, nae doubt," Mac added, happily sinking back into his seat. He was so tired, it almost hurt to move and Letour must be feeling even worse than he. These past hours Mac had witnessed Letour doing things that were almost beyond the realm of a normal man. Of course, it had likely been one of those adrenalin surges that doctors write about... but the man and super laddie had worked so well together. "Ye gang on through and see tae him."

Mac sipped the last of his drink as he watched Jor-El walk across the room and disappear down the back corridor. Mac's stare was contemplative.

"What's going on in that scheming head of yours, Mac?" His wife's question made him jump.

Turning his face to Marje, he smiled innocently. "Now whit makes ye think I'm plotting anything?"

"Just knowing you is enough. You're thinking of asking Jor-El to help find out about Letour's past."

"Aye! And dinn'ae tell me the thought hasn'ae crossed yer mind, 'cause I know ye too well too, lass."

"Well, we think Letour is American, and I'm sure you've noticed that Jor-El also talks with an American accent, so he most likely has his base in America, though no one knows exactly where. But I thought he might not mind taking Letour back with him to the States."

"I've been thinkin' the exact same thing. Course, Letour mightn'ae agree tae go, but it's up tae us tae persaude him. I'm fond of the laddie, and I'll fair miss him, but he's never goin' tae remember wha he is if he stays here."

Marje moved over to her husband and slipped her arm around his shoulder. "Oh, Mac, I don't want to see him go either, but we have to think of what's best for him." The couple shared a sad smile.

"So, we're agreed? Jor-El disn'ae leave without Letour!"

*****

Meanwhile, Jor-El had tapped lightly on the bathroom door and waited a few moments. When he recieved no answer, he knocked a little more loudly and asked shyly, "Mr Letour, may I come in?"

"Just a minute," Letour answered hoarsely, his words followed by a harsh cough. Then the door opened slowly.

Jor-El slid inside and, for the first time, he saw the older man without a thick coating of dirt. Letour was wearing a robe, with a towel slung around his neck, as if he'd been drying his hair. His frame was wiry rather than thin, and fresh purple bruises could be seen on his skin where the robe parted, but it was Letour's face which attracted Matt's attention -- a face lined with past suffering, yet somehow familiar.

Matt's heart raced unexpectedly.

"My God! It's impossible,” he gasped, staring at the man before him, while his thoughts spun wildly out of control.

Letour's eyebrows rose in question and he glanced down at himself deprecatingly. “I know I've picked up a few cuts and bruises, but nothing serious.” He rubbed at his chin. Mac had given him an electric razor, which he'd learned to use, but he hadn't shaved since... oh, Friday morning, and he knew he didn't look good with a twelve o'clock shadow. “I'm tired and achy, but apart from that, there's no need for you to worry.” Letour finished off with a reassuring grin.

Anywhere in the world, Matt would recognize that grin. It didn't matter that the man's hair was now streaked with gray, that there were dark hollows beneath his eyes, nor that he had lost some weight... Matt knew that smile. He'd grown up in the sunshine of that smile, and basked in the love that had prompted it.

So often Matt had dreamed of a meeting like this, only to be disappointed when daylight came. But this was no dream... this was reality.

“Dad! It's me. Matt!”

"Excuse me?" This time the older man's eyebrows drew together in a puzzled frown. "Who's Matt? You're Jor-El of Krypton. I've read about you."

"Yes, of course I am, but you know that's just a cover," Matt reasoned, his voice rising in excitement. "Jor-El's just my name when I'm in the suit. I didn't like Superboy and I didn't want to take your name...."

"My name?" While Letour spoke a muscle jumped in his jaw. "I don't understand."

"Superman! Dad, what's wrong?" Matt's sense of elation was quickly leaking away. There was something very strange going on. "It's me... Matt.” He pulled the cowl and mask from his face, hoping for some sign of recognition from his father... but his action seemed to reinforce Letour's confusion.

Could Matt be wrong and this man only resembled his lost father? Did Matt's subconscious still long so much for a father that he was suffering from a strong case of wishful thinking?

“I'm sorry....” Letour's voice was now a thready whisper. “I don't think I know you.” His eyes clouded with pain. He put out a hand to steady himself as he felt the floor shift beneath his feet. The young superhero caught his hand. “I have this problem... remembering things....”

Letour clung to the hero's hand as if it were a lifeline. Even by his past levels of headaches, he knew that the migraine approaching was a doozy. His vision shrunk to that of a long tunnel with the boy in black at the end of it, staring at him anxiously. He didn't know why it should be so important, but he wanted to reassure Jor... or was it Matt.... Only his voice wouldn't cooperate and all he could force passed his throat was a groan as he fainted away....

“Dad!”

Matt's panicky cry accompanied Letour into the abyss.

The shout was so loud that it could be heard in the living room. Immediately, Mac and Marje rushed into the bathroom to discover Letour lying on the floor with Jor-El crouched over him -- the superhero's fingers searching frantically for a pulse in Letour's neck.

“Whit happened?” Mac asked, his tone thick with apprehension. “Did he pass out?”

Jor-El glanced up, his face without the mask confirming both the MacDonnells' suspicions that the hero was a very young man, but mostly they noticed that his skin was blanched with shock and his stare was accusing.

“You tell me?” Matt demanded, fear stripping away caution. “Why is my father here... and what have you done to him?”

*****

Mac had stood frozen in the doorway for a few moments, while, peering round her husband's shoulder, Marje's mouth had dropped open in puzzled surprise as the boy's features registered in her brain.

Yet astonishment, questions and explanations were shelved while Letour was made more comfortable. Between the three, they managed to install the unconscious man in the MacDonnell's spare bedroom. The hero carrying him, with just a little support from Mac, and Marje following along behind like a mother hen.

Once, during the process, Letour awoke and none of the three could ignore his bewilderment which almost bordered on hysteria. Thankfully, Marje's familiar Scottish lilt managed to calm him and, after swallowing the painkillers she'd given him, he began to sink into an exhausted sleep. Yet, momentarily, he forced his eyelids to remain open and focused on Jor-El who was waiting by the door.

“Don't go,” Letour whispered. “Stay....”

“I will,” Jor promised. Wild horses wouldn't drag him away from this place without getting some account for his father's presence. In fact, he didn't plan on leaving without his father.

A peaceful smile tugged at the corners of Letour's mouth. He might be totally confused but, as he gave into sleep, this time he knew the boy of his dreams was real... and if the boy was a reality, perhaps the woman was also....

Marje stood up from the corner of the bed, tucking the quilt around Letour's shoulders. It wouldn't do for their friend to get pneumonia, just when they were about to discover his heritage. If she'd heard correctly, Jor-El had suggested Letour was his father... but wasn't Superman the new hero's father?

She cut off her suppositions in their prime. What they all needed was hard facts and glancing at Jor-El, she was aware he too was in need of answers. “Come on, Jor-El. Let's go into the living room.” She touched his arm kindly, as she spoke. “Letour... your dad will be asleep for some time. He gets these migraines which aren't very pleasant, but they do pass and he'll feel better when he wakes up... just a little weak. You can speak to him then.”

Reluctantly, Matt allowed himself to be led from the room.

“Dinn'ae worry sae much, laddie,” Mac added. “Marje is right, yer faether will be just fine. Right now, I'm thinkin' ye've some questions ye'd like answered... and we've a few of our ane.”

“You don't deny that he's my father?” Matt asked stiffly.

“If ye're askin' if we knew Letour wis Superman, then no, we didn'ae,” Mac answered reasonably. “But yer claim does hae a ring of truth about it, and it wuild explain a few things.” Mac stared at the young man. “Marje, didn'ae I tell ye earlier that Jor-El had Superman's chin? Ye notice it more in the flesh,” he concluded, sounding quite pleased that his powers of observation had been verified.

“That's hardly surprising,” Marje remonstrated with her husband, though her brain was trying hard to process the revelation. “Jor-El here has never denied being Superman's son. And Jor-El would be a family name... after your paternal grandfather, is it?”

Matt squirmed, feeling a lot like he was under a microscope. This woman seemed to know a lot about his origins....

“Yes. We have similar customs on Krypton....” Actually Matthew had been named after a Kryptonian, though not a family member.

“Now isn't that interesting. I always say that people are pretty much the same no matter where they come from. Don't look so shocked that I should know so much about you.” Seeing that their young visitor was beginning to squirm, Marje quickly added, “I promise there's nothing sinister in my interest. There's often not a lot to be done at nights out here and I'm afraid I've grown a little accustomed to trawling the WorldWideWeb....”

“Humph!” snorted Mac, waving in the direction of the now secure computer. Clearly Marje had been using it while he was out; probably to update their friends and colleagues back in Edinburgh of the ongoing situation. “Yer addicted tae that machine, Marje.”

“Addicted is a little strong,” she replied, feeling stung, but she continued more gently, as she crossed to the stove where an old teapot was keeping warm. She needed time to get her facts straight. “Why don't we all sit down and have a nice cup of Oolong tea while we talk. Letour always said it had a calming influence.”

The familiarity of Mrs MacDonnell's mention of Oolong tea smoothed Matt's suspicions. This couple didn't look like they were the kind of people who would keep anyone a prisoner... and no one could keep Superman a prisoner without the use of kryptonite. Matt certainly hadn't felt the toxic effects of kryptonite in this place, but he couldn't deny there was something terribly wrong with his dad.

Unsure of who to trust, Matt kept his own council for the moment, and took the chair that was offered him at the table. He waited for the MacDonnells to join him.

“I think the first thing ye should know, Jor... ye dinn'ae mind if I call ye Jor?” Mac asked as an afterthought and didn't wait for an answer. “Is that yer faether disn'ae hae any memories. He thinks he's someone wha's called Letour, though that's about all he knows.” Mac took a long slurp of his tea. “Neither me nor Marje hae been able tae persuade him tae find out more about himsel', and it's no for the want o' tryin'!”

“That's true, Jor.” Marje nodded. “He's been living here for over a year and when we realised he had amnesia, we wanted to contact the American Embassy, but he would have none of it. I even suggested we try one of these Internet sites... and I can tell you that didn't go down well at all! We believe he's scared to death to find out the truth, and if he does have any flashes of memory he ends up with a migraine. So, in the end, Mac and I thought it best to leave it up to him. We felt that when he was ready to learn more about himself, he would. Sadly, though, he hasn't felt able to confide in us.” Marje also drank from her cup and noticed the young man watching her closely. “There's nothing wrong with the tea, Jor. We're not the villains here, though if Letour is your father, then someone has definitely hurt him very badly.”

“Superman did go missing in North Korea, which isn't so far from here I guess,” Matt admitted and decided to take a quick sip of his tea. All he could taste was the clear tang of Oolong, and he didn't suddenly curl up in excruciating pain from a dose of kryptonite. It seemed his first instincts about the MacDonnells might be correct and they hadn't hurt Superman but had instead taken care of him.

“Aye! I first encountered Letour on the other side o' the mountain. He was hikin' through this province, pickin' up work here and there when he could. He fixed up Genevieve fer me, and I offered him a job. He's been here ever since, but he could hae come ower fae Korea, and that wuid explain his reluctance tae contact anyone in authority. He's probably in China illegally.”

“That sounds like a plausible explanation. Only something else is wrong. Mac, you've said a time or two that Letour could do the work of ten men -- my husband is prone to slight exaggeration, Jor -- but Letour is not super-powered, nor invulnerable. So something very nasty must have happened to him in that god-forsaken country, apart from what caused his loss of memory.” Marje paused, wondering whether to go on. Oh, well. In for a penny, in for a pound! “And it doesn't explain what happened to that nice Mr Kent who went missing with him.”

Matt could feel a burning blush staining his cheeks and he hadn't his mask to hide behind. He just hadn't bothered to put it back in place. Quickly he made a point of draining his mug, hoping to hide his awkwardness.

Marje smiled inwardly. The Internet was a wonderful tool, and she'd had some time to herself this afternoon when the medical team had moved out and after she'd made her report to her folks back home. However, she felt the young man wasn't quite ready for her to voice what she suspected she'd discovered. Besides, she still could be wrong. “Another mug of tea, Jor?”

“No! No, thank you, Mrs MacDonnell.” Matt stood abruptly. “You know, I think I might just go check on how those survivors are doing, and offer my help with the recovery work. “You did say my fath... Letour wouldn't wake up for sometime... so I could....”

“But whit about yer questions, laddie? And we've one or two of our ane we'd like answered!” Mac looked clearly troubled. Nothing had been settled yet.

“I don't think we need to worry about those yet, Mac. Jor will be back, won't you? I doubt he's going to leave without talking to his dad again.”

“No, of course not.” Matt was definitely torn. He'd made a promise to be here for Letour, yet he needed time to think... and to maybe try to contact Uncle Bernie. Mrs MacDonnell seemed to have made a connection to Clark Kent, but surely she couldn't be near to the truth. He'd been careless to allow the MacDonnell's to see him without the mask! What he really needed was to talk to Mom. She'd know what to do. “If he does wake, you will tell him I'll be back?”

“Of course we will,” Marje said warmly. She'd been a silly old fool, teasing the young man the way she had. She'd lived far too long with Mac, and now she'd scared Jor half out of his wits. The poor boy didn't know her or Mac and couldn't know they were to be trusted. “Off you go and do what you have to do, and don't worry about your dad. We'll take good care of him. After all, we think of him as one of our own.”

At Marje's last words, Mac laughed. “Aye, that we do, and if ye're his laddie, that makes ye one of the family, too.”

Matt didn't know if that was a good or bad thing, but one thing he did know, he had to try to contact his mother and he couldn't do that with an audience, but could he safely leave his father here without fear of him being spirited away again? Matt decided he could hover overhead and keep an eye on what was happening in the house. He nodded his head to the two people who were watching him closely.

“Oh, and Jor-El, before you go, you might want to put your mask back in place,” Marje said helpfully. “You don't want anyone else seeing your face.”

“Thank you,” Matt replied, doing as he was told. How could he have almost forgotten that? He stretched his neck to make sure everything was back in its proper place. “I'll be back!” he added in his best sonorous tone, before flying out the door. Oh boy, he was beginning to sound like that alien in an old movie he'd watched with his mom and dad. The movie with the actor who had become a governor.

*****

Left behind, Mac sent his wife a disgruntled glance. “Why did ye encourage him tae leave when he hasn'ae agreed tae take Letour... or is it Superman home?”

“Mac, that boy isn't going to leave here without his father. He just needs time to think. After all, he's had a huge shock, finding out he's not an orphan. Not that I think he ever was an orphan.... He said he'll be back and I'd bet my life he will. I think he's gone to get some advice.”

“He's gone tae check up on the rescue camp....”

“That was just an excuse.” Marje had crossed to the computer and was logging on again.

“Wha is a superhero goin' tae be asking for advice?”

“I'd say his family, but that's just a guess, though an educated one now.”

“Dinn'ae be talkin' in riddles, woman! He only has a faether, and according tae him, his da's sleeping in our wee room. I cann'ae stand it when ye're bein' mysterious.”

“I'm not being mysterious, Mac. Come over here and look what I found.”

She beckoned him over, and realizing he wasn't about to get any explanations unless he played things Marje's way, he ambled over reluctantly. However his reluctance disappeared as he peered at the on-screen article with a small family photograph attached.

“Where did ye find that?” he demanded, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling.

“It wasn't easy, believe me. I had to go into the old archives of the Metropolis Star. The Daily Planet ran the story but didn't have any photographs... which I found strange.”

“It's an obituary.” Mac read the blurb, shaking his head in amazement and his wife's leap of logic. “But whit made ye go searching fer this?”

“I didn't... not at first. After the military teams arrived and cleared everyone out of here, I was left with nothing to do. You've no idea how frustrating it is to wait at home for news. I decided to distract myself with reading about Jor-El and that led me onto Superman. There's a lot of conspiracy theories out there about his disappearance and alleged death, but only a very tiny mention of the reporter who went missing at the same time. I guess I just got curious. I went looking and discovered that picture of the family taken at the memorial service for Clark Kent.” Marje stood up and, taking her husband's hand, she took him back to the little room where Letour slept on, oblivious to the fact that his identity had been discovered along with his secret one. “I didn't put two and two together until I saw Jor without his mask just now. It is him, isn't it?” she asked, though her question was practically a statement.

“Oh, aye, I'd say so.” Mac nodded, still feeling slightly shell shocked. “The laddie in the picture might be a few years younger, but now we've seen Jor-El's whole face, I'd say they're the same person.”

“So if Jor-El is telling the truth, and this is his father, then Letour is both Superman and Clark Kent.” Marje was whispering, though she'd no idea why. The man in the bed was still fast asleep and the superhero had gone.

Unfortunately, that wasn't exactly true. High above them Jor-El hovered. He'd stopped to activate his transponder, hoping his uncle could patch him through to his mother. Now, however, Marje's assumption that he'd left became reality. As Matt overheard the conversation he took off and flew faster than he'd ever attempted before. The seriousness of this situation couldn't be addressed through a satellite connection, no matter how sophisticated... and he was fairly confident the MacDonnells had his father's best interest at heart. Besides, Matt wasn't sure his father was strong enough to survive a flight to Metropolis.

No, he had to tell his mother face to face that he'd betrayed the family's secret... that he'd found his father... and bring her back to China immediately.

*****

tbc