Superman Family: Superboy

The Encounter

by Manomight1974

As the waves crashed around him, soaking his costume through, he realized just how alone he was. He sniffed the salty air of the Connecticut coast. It smelled like home. It looked like home. Even the muddy sand beneath him felt like home, but this was not his home. This was not Connecticut, at least not the Connecticut that he knew.

That Connecticut was long gone, just like his native Earth.

Superboy, a.k.a. Clark Kent, Jr., clamped his arms tighter about his legs, leaning his chin up on his knees. He looked out at the body of water in front of him from his spot inside the secluded cave on the beach. The night was rolling in faster than he expected, but he didn’t seem to notice. He had other things on his mind at the moment.

As he buried his face deep into his chest, he thought back over the events of this day that led him here to this place. To this feeling of loneliness. He knew what had happened was his own fault, but, like any teenager, he just didn’t know what to do to make things right.

The week had started off rather promising. School was going rather well, with no problems to speak of, least of all Bash Bashford. The bully had been leaving him alone of late, leaving him free to pursue Laurie. “But she’s not my Laurie,” he thought aloud, his voice echoing through the cave as the tears flowed from his eyes and down his cheeks once more. But that was all before Friday.

Friday had started without apparent incident. He had risen at 5:00, showered, and eaten a light breakfast before starting his chores. He had gone out to the barn and milked the cows, lingering for a time with old Betty, his favorite of the group of bovines, stroking her head and brushing out her coat.

It was all pretty routine for somebody like Clark. He had run the entire length of the Kent farm at super-speed, doing whatever he could to leave as little as possible for his adoptive father to accomplish after C.J., the nickname that Lois and Clark had recently given him, had left for school. Not that it really mattered after all. His adoptive father was Superman. He could handle it.

Everything had been fine until he had taken the morning edition of the Daily Star out of the mailbox at the edge of the farm. C.J. customarily looked it over before bringing it back to the house, looking for anything that might draw the attention of a super-powered teen like himself. But this time, what he found was not what he had been expecting.

What had caught his eye when he opened the paper wasn’t particularly bad. No world shattering events, natural disasters, or rampaging super-villains this time. What had drawn his attention was a little piece in the announcements section. An anniversary announcement. It simply read, “Jerome Hastings Kent and Naomi Clarke Kent, formerly of Connecticut, to celebrate 20th wedding anniversary.”

That was all that was really there, and all it had taken to upset Clark. He had only just begun to adjust to life these last two years here on Earth-2, starting to push all of his losses behind him. He had started to forget what had been taken from him, but that headline just brought it all back. Upon seeing it and the accompanying picture, he had run back to the house in a blur of super-speeded motion that would have put Jay Garrick, the Flash himself, to shame. When he had shown the paper to Lois and Clark, their reaction to the story and its apparent implications had been anything but what C.J. had expected.

“They’re not the Jerry and Naomi Kent that you knew, son,” Clark, Sr.’s tone was even, flat, and almost without emotion. “I know how you must feel, but–”

“You don’t know how I feel,” C.J. had interrupted. “You didn’t even know your parents. They died long before you even had a chance to get to get to know them. They put you in a rocket and sent you here a long time ago, so you don’t have fond memories of them. I do, and I want to see them again. They may not have been my biological parents, as you and Kal-L made abundantly clear to me two years ago, but they were my parents, and I never got the chance to tell them just how much I loved and appreciated them before Earth-Prime was destroyed. This is my chance, and I don’t want to lose it again.” C.J. had been clearly agitated and getting worse as each moment dragged on.

“C.J.,” Lois had begun as she lovingly placed a reassuring hand upon the upset young man’s shoulder to try and soothe his pain. She was still very new to parenting, but she was trying her best. “We both know how you feel right now. Lord knows, if there is any man alive who knows about pain and loss, it’s your Pa here. We know that you want to go see this world’s version of Jerry and Naomi and talk to them, but that won’t do you any good. These people won’t know who you are, or why you’re there. They aren’t your parents–”

“Neither are you!” C.J. knew he shouldn’t have spoken those words, even as he said them, but now it was too late. He stood there for a long moment, frozen by the shocked and disappointed looks that the Kents were giving him. He couldn’t take that, or the shame of what he had said, so he took off. He had flown for hours, crying and cursing himself the whole time, eventually settling here on the beach where he had spent so many summers as a boy. But it was not his beach, not his world.

He was still sitting there in the sand of the dimly lit cave when he had heard the rustling of the wind and the sound of booted feet gently touching down in the mud. He knew who it was even before the stranger spoke.

“Go away, pa,” he said. “I don’t want to talk right now, so just please leave me be.”

“Clark,” the stranger began, “I know how you feel but you can’t hide forever.” The voice was soothing in it’s tone, and it sounded like Superman’s, but something was off about it. Something was wrong, as Superman never called him “Clark” when he was in costume. He had always called him “Superboy”. C.J. looked up at the stranger, a curious look on his face as he did so.

“Superman? Pa?”

“Yes,” the stranger began, a slight smile crossing his lips, “and no. At least not exactly.”

C.J. stood and faced the tall, well built, muscular individual waiting at the mouth of the cave. He wore the traditional Earth-2 variation of the familiar Superman costume, but it was different, slightly altered. The crimson cape appeared longer, and the chest symbol was bigger, more pronounced across his chiseled upper torso.

“Who are you? You can’t be Superman,” C.J. asked, the curious look on his face turning to apprehension as he met the stranger’s smiling gaze face to face.

The stranger in the Superman costume chuckled slightly. “Who am I,” he began. “That’s an easy one Clark, which I’m surprised you haven’t figured out yet. I’m you.”

 

* * *

 

C.J. looked at the man who claimed to be his older self and burst out laughing. “You’re me? That’s a good one, but as we both know, a person can’t travel backward or forward in time to any era that they already existed in without turning into a temporal phantom. You almost had me fooled, Pa.”

Superman stared at his younger self, the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. He held up one finger in a “just a moment” gesture, and with his other hand, reached around his belt to produce a small electronic device that appeared to be a mismatched cross between a TV. remote and a walkie talkie. “That,” he began as he held up the device for the disbelieving Boy of Steel, “was before this.”

“What is it?” Clark asked, clearly intrigued.

“It’s called a trans-temporal inverter. It generates a static force field of chronometric particles around the user so that he or she can not only exist in time periods where they already were, but it will also prevent a catastrophe from occurring should said time traveler come into direct physical contact with their temporal counterpart. But don’t ask me how it works, because even I’m not sure of that.”

“Assuming that I believe you, which I’m not saying that I do,” C.J. began, “tell me something that only I would know. Something that I’ve never told Ma or Pa.”

“Fair enough. You have a small scar on the bottom of your right foot, on the heel to be exact.”

“Everybody in the family knows that, even little Mary, and she’s just a baby. Try again.”

“Yeah,” Superman replied, “but do they know how you got it? Do they know that you got it before you had your powers at the age of six when, while trying to help Dad in the garage, you stepped on a nail? Do they also know that Jerry and Naomi rushed you to the hospital, ignoring all traffic lights and stop signs, while blood gushed out all over the interior of the new car and you screaming the whole time? Do they know that Dad never washed your blood out of the upholstery, leaving it as it was until he sold the car two years before Earth-Prime was destroyed? How about the fact that Naomi doted on you hand and foot for the next two weeks while it healed, and Jerry first introduced you to your comic book namesake while you were laid up in bed?”

C.J. gulped loudly after his counterpart’s tirade. “Oh…my…god. You are either a very skilled telepathic fake, or you really are me as you claim.”

Seeing that C.J. still wasn’t fully convinced and needed further proof to clinch it, Superman sat down on one of the larger rocks at the cave’s entrance and pulled off the crimson boot he wore on his right foot. He then lifted the foot up for C.J. to see the small gash-like scar across the bottom of his heel. “Satisfied?”

“Yeah, very much so?”

“You know why I’m here, then?”

“Yes, but I’d still very much like to know how you’re here. Did you build that device?”

“No, John did that. And don’t change the subject. You and I have some very serious things to discuss right now, and avoidance is not going to solve the problem.”

“I’m not avoiding the subject. Pa taught me that a good superhero, just like a good reporter, keeps his eyes open–”

“–and asks a lot of questions,” Superman finished the statement, much to the surprise of his younger self. He smiled at the look the boy was giving him. As he sat there, replacing the boot on his foot, he thought back to his memories of this day, when he was the young man facing this stranger in the Superman costume who claimed to be himself grown up. He remembered how he had felt at this moment back then, and he didn’t want to mess up the timeline. He knew that he had a great many things to say to the teen, about why he was here, but that could wait for a bit. After all, if he wanted to adhere to the script as it were, he could afford to answer a few minor questions.

“All right,” he began as he stood back up and smoothed out his cape, “I’ll answer your questions about the device, and GENERAL information about the reason that I’m here and your future. But nothing specific. Deal?”

C.J. stood for a moment and mulled over his older self’s proposal. As time passed, the seconds dragging on like hours to the two sons of Krypton, he kept asking himself, “Should I or shouldn’t I?” After debating the situation for what seemed like an eternity of silence, C.J. finally made a decision, much to Superman’s relief.

“Deal. Who’s John?”

“Good first question, it gets right to the point. John Garrick, son of Jay and Joan Garrick, known to you as Whiz Kid, successor to the mantle of the Flash in my time after his father’s retirement.”

“How did he make the device?”

“That’s a long story, Clark.”

“I’ve got time.”

“OK. You remember reading in the JSA’s casebook about the Trial of the JSA and Per Degaton’s part in it?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, after that case,” Superman said as he cleared his throat and began pacing at the cave’s entrance, “the JSA took Professor Zee’s time machine into custody, and it sat in one of the brownstone’s lower level storage rooms until about ten years ago, my time. John, using the advanced micro-technology available, along with his father’s knowledge of Barry Allen’s cosmic treadmill and Zee’s time machine itself, built this in a vain attempt to cross the barrier between Earth-2 and Earth-1. It didn’t work, but he did discover a practical application for it in traveling through the timestream. And thus, here I am.”

“Why are you telling me all of this? Some of this information is not really necessary for me to know.”

“Because, Clark,” Superman began slowly, “you’re the one who gives him the idea. If I don’t tell you, then John never builds it, and that creates a paradox, which could be worse than the Crisis was.”

“Oh. I’m not really used to me being all that important in the grand cosmic scheme of things, you know.”

“That’ll change in time, especially when you put on this costume that I’m wearing now, and start calling yourself Superman. The people will start to look at you the way they have always looked at Pa. But that’s not going to happen until you stop living in the past, own up to your responsibilities, and go home and face those two very loving people that you hurt this morning.”

Superman’s words cut C.J. deeper than any knife, even without his invulnerability. He looked away from his future self, as he couldn’t bare to see the look that this Man of Tomorrow was giving him, the same look that Pa had given him that morning. “I know, but I’m scared.”

“Scared that they’ll be disappointed in you? Sure, I know all about it. Remember, I’ve been there and done that. I know everything that you’re thinking right this moment and–” Superman stopped mid sentence and was staring out at the ocean, and it appeared that he was listening to something.

“What’s wrong?” Clark asked as he stepped closer to his counterpart.

“Use your super-hearing and telescopic vision, Clark. There’s a cruise ship in trouble,” he glanced down at the watch concealed within his belt buckle, “and it’s right on schedule.”

“What?!?! You knew about this?”

“Of course I did. Remember Clark, I’ve already been here. I just thought that I’d have a little bit more time to talk to you.” Superman was already in the air beckoning the Boy of Steel to follow. “C’mon, let’s go. We haven’t a moment to lose when it comes to the Humanite, but I’ll explain everything en route.”

“The Ultra-Humanite?” C.J. called back, but Superman was already gone in a super-fast blur of red and blue. Superboy took off after his older self, not sure exactly what he was getting himself into. The only certain thing was that with the Humanite involved, things were about to get much worse.

 

* * *

 

When C.J. finally caught up with Superman-2, the Man of Tomorrow was just hovering in mid-air, approximately three miles away from the Ultra-Humanite and the sinking cruise ship. Superman held up his hand, motioning for C.J. to stop. He did so rather reluctantly, and with much trepidation. After all, there was a villain who needed to be vanquished, civilians who needed saving, and Superboy didn’t like sitting around doing nothing.

“Why are we waiting?” The impatience was clearly evident in Superboy’s tone.

“Because,” the Man of Tomorrow began, “we need a plan before we go rushing in where angels fear to tread.” Superman’s tone, and the look he was giving C.J. was extremely no-nonsense and business-like, a clear shift in demeanor from a few moments earlier. The Boy of Steel was clearly taken back by this change in his future self, but he did not let on.

“Why do we need a plan? It’s just the Ultra-Humanite. He’s a big, smelly ape. We fly in at super-speed and punch him out. Problem solved.”

“We need a plan, Clark,” Superman responded slowly, “for the simple fact that it is the Ultra-Humanite. I would have thought that Pa had taught you by now to never under-estimate the Humanite. You’ve got to think about the situation that we’re flying into first. The Ultra-Humanite does not attack a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean for no reason. He has an ulterior motive for everything he does. To him, this is like a game of chess, move and counter-move. He’s obviously trying to get Pa’s attention. What do you think he’ll do when Pa arrives on the scene?”

C.J. thought for a moment, and then, like an explosion going off in the back of his mind, the answer finally dawned on him. “The attack on the cruise ship is a diversion to get Pa to come here so that the Humanite can finally kill Superman,” C.J. said as he slapped himself on the forehead. Superman-2 just nodded back in response.

“Which means,” the Man of Tomorrow began, “that we need a plan that takes that into account. So this is how it’s going to work, as there are two separate situations that need to be handled: One of us will take care of the sinking ship, and the other gets the Humanite.”

“Dibs on the smelly monkey,” C.J. said, smirking, as he readied himself to fly down and take on the Humanite. Before he could fly off though, Superman had grabbed the boy’s arm and was shaking his head.

“First, grow up Clark,” Superman said, his tone very much like the one that Pa had used on him earlier that day. “Second, the Humanite more than likely has weapons that could kill Pa. What do you think that they’d do to you, a headstrong inexperienced teenager?”

“I don’t know, kill me?”

“Precisely. And what do you think would happen to the timeline if you were to die now?” The Man of Tomorrow didn’t even give C.J. a chance to reply. “I would cease to exist, which would create a paradox that would unravel all of existence. I will take on the Humanite, you will rescue the cruise ship. That is how it is going to work. And, young man, you will make absolutely certain that every single person on board that ship is safe. You will get it to shore and see to the passengers and crew. Am I clear?”

“Jeez, you sound just like Pa, you know that?”

“I take that as a compliment even though you didn’t mean it as one. Again I say, am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Remember Clark, I have more experience with the Humanite than you do, so it would be better if I handled him, because I know how he thinks. Besides, he and I have a score to settle, and it’s personal.” With that, Superman took off towards the spot where the Humanite waited in a flash, leaving C.J. to wonder just exactly what that last part meant. C.J. was extremely curious what it was, or rather will be, that could elicit such utter contempt from his future self. But he knew that only time would tell, and he took off towards the sinking ship.

 

* * *

 

Interlude One – Superman’s Secret Citadel

Superman sat in the padded leather chair, flicking dials and switches on the communications console, surrounded by the various trophies he had collected over the years, each one, a story unto itself: the Ultra-Humanite’s purple ray; the inert Powerstone once worn by Alexei Luthor and the Humanite; one of the Lightning Master’s lightning rays; Metalo’s first suit of super-armor. Countless mementos of a varied career, each piece a reminder of times past, but none of which were his concern at the moment. All he cared about right now was finding the boy.

He had been here since about noon, using the advanced technology of the citadel to try and locate the missing C.J. He was well aware that a super-speed search of the planet might be more practical, but he needed to cool off before he faced his adopted son.

Superman had been mulling over the whole situation all day, wondering why C.J. had said those things, as it had been so out of character for him. And yet, they weren’t, not really. He knew that were he in C.J.’s place, and he were given the chance to see Jor-L and Lora again, even if they weren’t his Jor-L and Lora, he might have reacted exactly as Superboy had. He even knew that he should have reacted better when the boy had shown him and Lois the article.

“The moment I find that kid,” he thought aloud, “we’re all going to sit down as a family and work this out, and this time, I’ll try and be a little bit more understanding.” Just then, his thoughts were interrupted by a low buzzing emanating from the console. He flipped a switch, and spoke into the communications pick-up. “Yes?”

“Clark,” the sweet, feminine voice he had heard most of his adult life began, “have you found him yet?”

“No, Lois. Nothing yet,” he replied. “I’m beginning to think that he might have left the planet.”

“Have faith,” his wife reassured him as she always did. The two of them had been together for so long, through every super-battle with every villain, and she always seemed to remain calm under pressure. But Superman knew that it was all a facade, that she was actually extremely terrified right now, but the last thing that he needed was her hysterical, so she put on a brave face for him. He was on edge enough as is, and there was no need to make things worse. At times like this, he realized just how much he loved his wife, and wondered what he would ever do without her at his side.

“I do have faith, honey,” he began, “but I’m beginning to–” Superman stopped short just as one of the sensor consoles began buzzing wildly. “Just a moment, Lois.” He began flipping more switches, turning dials, and pressing buttons. After a few seconds, he started shaking his head in disbelief. “That can’t be right,” he said after a long pause.

“What’s wrong, Clark?”

“The computers have located C.J. At least, I think they have.”

“Clark Kent, what in the name of all that’s holy does that mean?”

“It means,” he said, rather slowly, “the computer has found him, but it is detecting two of him!”

 

* * *

 

Interlude Two – An underground laboratory somewhere in Metropolis

The laboratory was cold, dark, and completely silent save the low hum of the equipment that kept the sleeper in hibernation. He had no concept of how long he had been here, nor of how long it had been since his father was here last. He was unaware of the lab’s current status, and if he were, he would have been utterly disgusted by the state of disrepair that it had fallen into in the last few years.

The sleeper remained in stasis, unmoving, barely even breathing, his body’s every function regulated by the very same machinery that kept him asleep. The very same machinery that had arrested the progression of the disease that had been slowly killing him. The same machinery that would eventually cure him.

The sleeper did nothing, save dream, and his dreams were always the same. In his dreams, he would be standing with his father, a smile on the older man’s face made even more impressive by the shock of bright crimson hair on his head. The two stood over the inert body of a fallen Man of Steel, as they continued to blast him with the emerald rays of Kryptonite projected by some fantastic weapon in their hands. The older man and his teenage son were insufferably pleased with their handiwork.

“You have done well, Alexei, Jr.,” the older man began to say as he clapped his left hand on the teen’s shoulder. “I am very pleased with you this day. If not for you, I wouldn’t have defeated him.”

In his dream, the sleeper smiled back at his father, and he continued to dream. Soon enough, his disease would be fully cured and he would wake. Soon enough, he would aid his father in the older man’s quest to destroy the Man of Steel, and these thoughts kept him content in his hibernation.

As he continued to sleep and dream, he was unaware that this dream would never come true. Unaware that he would never get the recognition that he so richly deserved from his father. The sleeper was unaware that his father, the great Alexei Luthor, had been dead for the last two years. That his father had been the victim of Brainiac, one of the greatest enemies of another reality’s Superman. For now, however, he slept and dreamed. But soon enough, he would awaken from his long sleep and his dreams. Soon enough.

 

* * *

 

The Ultra-Humanite stood atop his floating weapons platform, its cannons continuing to send a barrage of devastating plasma energy blasts toward the crippled ocean-liner. He clasped his huge gorilla arms behind his back and continued to wait. His simian features had taken on an almost smugly impatient glow as he waited. He was certainly not happy at this moment.

For nearly fifty years, and in a number of different bodies, his current white gorilla body the most recent, he had battled and been defeated by Superman. With each defeat, the Humanite had become more and more convinced that the Man of Steel was an unexpected variable he seemed to always neglect to count upon in his calculations, one that must be eliminated.

To do that, he had, time and time again, threatened innocent lives as a lure to the Last Son of Krypton. Each time, like the clockwork running of a Swiss watch, Superman flew in and dispatched his foe. This was the only predictable thing about Superman that the Humanite had come to rely upon, his utter distaste for the loss of innocent human lives. As yet, however, the Man of Steel had still not arrived upon the scene. In the Humanite’s eyes, Superman not making an appearance this day was completely atypical of his nemesis, and totally out of character.

The Humanite, however, regardless of what body he was using, was very patient. He was well aware that Superman might not arrive exactly on time, which is probably why he had taken as much care as he did in just how much damage he inflicted upon the ocean-liner. Too much, and it would sink too quickly; too little, and the ship might make it back to shore. He wanted to give Superman the chance to arrive upon the scene and attempt a rescue. “Besides,” he mused aloud, “I do so love it when helpless humans scream in terror. It’s part of my nature, I suppose, this sadistic streak I have.”

The Humanite flipped a switch on the weapons platform’s control console, checking the elapsed time as he did so. Approximately twenty-two minutes had passed since he had begun his attack upon the now doomed cruise ship. The Humanite sighed. He would give the Man of Steel another three minutes to arrive upon the scene, and then he would leave the innocent vacationers and the ship’s crew to their doom. After all, he did have other things that were far more important to accomplish, such as the presidential election. His only reason for coming here today was as a diversion. “Politics can be so boring,” he mused.

It was at that moment that he heard the sound of the console’s proximity alarm. He glanced down at the computer screen, noting that it registered two blips heading towards him at incredible speed. Superman was finally on his way, but it appeared that he was not alone this time. He wondered which of the many super-heroes were coming with him, and why the Man of Steel felt the need to bring someone. “He never needed help to defeat me before. Why should he start now?”

The Humanite flipped another switch, this one connected to a very sophisticated sensor apparatus. Within moments, he knew exactly who was coming with Superman. “The boy,” he growled, understandably upset. Within a few seconds, the Humanite saw Superboy rocket past him and towards the cruise ship, plunging beneath the surface of the water. This at least, boded well for the Humanite. The boy would not be his concern, and he could concentrate solely upon his most hated foe. He touched another set of controls, and the floating weapons platform rotated 180 degrees, enabling him to face his foe head on. “It’s about time that you arrived old man. I was beginning to think that you’d never show up.”

A blur of blue and red super-speeded motion slammed into the Humanite’s weapons platform. The crash knocked him back into one of the platform’s metallic guard rails, and it was only by virtue of his gorilla body’s super-strength that he was able to prevent himself from toppling over the side.

“So, that’s how we’re going to handle it. All right, if you want to play rough, we can play rough.” The Humanite depressed another switch, and the computer console initiated it’s voice command protocol. “Computer,” he began, “lock Kryptonite blaster on target currently moving at super-speed and fire at will.”

The green rays erupted from the huge cannon behind the Humanite, each one trying to make contact with the super-fast blur moving around before the Humanite. Not one of the energy blasts made contact, and before the Humanite knew it, Superman was no longer registering on the sensor scope. The Humanite was confused. “He couldn’t have just disappeared.”

The next thing the Humanite knew, a superhumanly powerful fist hit him from behind, knocking him down. He shook his head, and rose back up to face his adversary. What stood before him shocked him, and he was taken back. Superman stood before him, no longer an old man with graying hair and wrinkles, but rather a young man in his late twenties or early thirties. Superman had not looked like this in more than forty years. The Humanite took in every detail, even the slight differences in the costume. “So, you’ve gotten your youth back like other members of the JSA. I’d love to know how you managed that trick old foe.”

“Yeah,” Superman began, the merest hint of a smile crossing his lips, “I’m sure you would, but you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, you smelly ape.”

“Really, Superman. After all that you and I have been through over the last 40 some odd years, do you really think it’s necessary to insult me?”

“Actually, Ultra, I do. Besides, you and I haven’t been facing off for over 40 years.”

“How is that possible? I think I would know how long I’ve been facing you, Kryptonian, don’t you?” The Humanite’s curiosity was certainly piqued by that statement.

“For somebody who boasts to have the ‘most learned and agile brain’ on the face of the Earth, you certainly seem to overlook the obvious. It’s possible, because I’m not the Superman you know.”

The Man of Steel punched the Humanite again, and as the Humanite fell back into the guard rails once more, he smiled, realizing that this was indeed the diversion he was looking for today. This was indeed going to be a very good day, one he was sure to remember for years to come.

 

* * *

 

Superboy floated motionless in the water beneath the sinking cruise ship, his Kryptonian eyes scanning the immediate vicinity for signs of either debris or bodies (whether living or deceased) using a combination of his telescopic and X-ray visions. Normally, using his super powers in this manner on a rescue would make him marvel slightly at all the things that he could see and feel, remembering how he had once been no more special than anyone else. But this time, it was a little different, and that was a long time ago. Right now he had to worry about the hundreds of lives at stake aboard the ship, and he needed to remain focused.

The problem was that he couldn’t. So many things had happened today, some of which he knew he had to make right, others that absolutely incensed him. Not the least of which was the tone of voice that his elder counterpart had spoken to him with when they split up to handle this emergency. “How dare he act so bossy to me? Who does he think he is? Pa? I know exactly what I’m doing,” he thought, his eyes still scanning. Superboy had dealt with super-villains before, some of which were much more powerful than the Humanite, like the Anti-Monitor. He was there, after all, when Pa had leveled the final blow against that monster in the anti-matter universe, so he knew the risks. All of which he thought his future self should be well aware of coming from the future, and being the same person.

“Stick to the job at hand, young man, and stop whining about drawing the short straw,” Superman-2′s voice sounded in his ears. The Man of Tomorrow was obviously using super-ventriloquism to communicate with C.J., and his voice sounded slightly muffled due to its passing through the sea water around the Boy of Steel.

“You sure that you don’t need any help up there,” Superboy asked back, also employing super-ventriloquism. “I can stop what I’m doing and come up there and help you beat up the smelly monkey”

“No, Clark. Stay where you are and take care of that cruise ship. Civilian lives are more important. I can handle Magilla.” Superboy recognized that tone again. It was the same one that Pa usually used with him when he was expressing disapproval, and he knew enough not to argue any further. One thing was certain though, his future self was, just as he had said aloud earlier, just like Pa.

Continuing to scan the area, Superboy noticed that there was nothing in the water to worry about, as fortunately most of the debris had been vaporized and no one had fallen overboard. He was about to put his back into lifting the ocean-liner out of the water when he felt the vibrations along the hull from another explosion. Scanning the ship with his X-ray vision, he detected no internal explosions or flames, which was a relief since he really didn’t want to have to worry about a fire. Obviously, the Humanite had blasted the boat again, either purposely, or while trying to hit the Man of Tomorrow, he did not know, but it did have one rather annoying side effect–one of the passengers had fallen overboard.

Superboy swam at super-speed towards the drowning vacationer, catching him before he was submerged more than a couple of feet and then exploded out of the water, the unconscious man still in his arms. He flew upward as fast as he could, and deposited him gently on the ship’s forward deck. He glanced back towards the man he had just rescued, noting that others were already tending to him as the man came to and vomited up globs of blue-green sea water. Superboy stood transfixed on the man’s face for what seemed like an endless eternity. He could swear that he had seen him somewhere before, but unfortunately was drawing a blank.

“Uh, Superboy,” one of the frightened vacationers began, “shouldn’t you be saving us?”

“What? Oh, right. Sorry. Consider it done, and hang on tight.” Superboy launched himself back into the air, swooping back down beneath the cruise ship. Returning to his place beneath the sinking ship, he stretched his arms up over his head and began lifting the boat out of the water. He raised it slowly, not wanting to cause the damage to the hull to worsen as he exerted the full measure of his super-strength towards moving it upwards.

When both the ship and Boy of Steel had risen at least 100 feet above the ocean’s surface, Superboy, his hand grip on the ship’s hull tightening so much that the metal distorted itself into a very crude hand hold like it was made out of nothing more than modeling clay, propelled himself and the ocean-liner forward at nearly the speed of sound.

“New York isn’t that far, and the old Brooklyn Navy yards could definitely accommodate the ship while it’s repaired and the passengers are offloaded,” he thought aloud. Besides, the Navy Yard was far enough away from the battle to prevent anyone else from being injured.

As Superboy flew the damaged ship out of there, he didn’t notice that the battle between the Humanite and Superman-2, as well as his own actions were being watched intently from above. Superman had finally found his wayward son. His chest swelled with pride as he watched his son relocate the cruise ship out of danger. Normally, he might have lent a hand, but he was transfixed by the scene of the battle raging beneath him.

As he watched his son’s future self trade blow after blow with the huge white ape, he held back. He watched and waited. If it looked like Superman-2 needed any help, he would fly in and save the day, but for right now, he just wanted to see what his grown-up son could do, and he smiled, knowing two things. One, that the man down there fighting the Humanite was C.J.’s counterpart from the future, and two, that if he was down there right now, then things were gonna be all right.

“Lois and I actually did something right,” he said to himself as his Kryptonian eyes continued to take in the battle raging below.

 

* * *

 

“If you’re not the Superman that I know,” the Humanite began slowly, “then exactly who in the hell are you?” Ultra had stopped fighting with Superman-2 and stood motionless atop the floating weapons platform, his massive simian arms folded gracefully behind his back, waiting for an answer. He was extremely patient, and he could probably wait for all eternity if need be, a fact that Superman-2 knew all too well. After all, over the course of the last fourteen years of his life, he had battled Ultra time and time again, so he had become an expert on how the criminal mastermind’s brain worked.

“Why don’t you try and guess, Magilla?” It was very much the response of a smart ass, and Superman-2 knew that saying it would only seek to enrage the Humanite, but also make the ape more likely to make a mistake, one that he would be ready to exploit. “When dealing with the Humanite, that is always rule number one,” Pa had always told him, and although he had thought it to be a rather amusing statement when the old man had first said it, over the years he had come to rely upon it always when dealing with the Humanite, whether in his current ape form or the genetically engineered human form he wore in Superman-2′s own time. He wasn’t, however, prepared for Ultra’s reaction to the taunt, or rather, lack thereof.

“You’re attempting to goad me, aren’t you?” The Humanite smiled an extremely ferocious, toothy grin and snorted derisively at his opponent. “It’s an admirable attempt, but as you can see, it will avail you nothing. You see, my curiosity over who you are has been piqued, so I shall keep my emotions in check…for the moment. I ask you once again, who are you?”

Superman-2 took a deep breath, letting it out ever so slowly. “Who do you think I am?”

“Obviously, you are Superman. But the question remains which one? You can’t be the Earth-1 variant, as the dimensional barriers are still closed off to travelers. The only possibility is that you are from this Earth, but a different time period.”

“Very good. I think that you’re actually starting to put the pieces of this little puzzle together. You know, I’m actually starting to believe that you’re almost as smart as you’ve always told Pa you were.” The Man of Tomorrow was still trying to goad the villain, and this time it looked like it was actually having some kind of effect, as he noticed the Humanite’s gorilla grin fade into a gorilla scowl.

“I shall ignore that,” the Humanite snapped back, but Superman-2 knew he wasn’t going to. “From your attitude, and your sheer disrespect for your elders, I would say that you are the boy grown up and you traveled back in time to meet yourself for some reason.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a bingo,” Superman-2 shouted back, laughing, as he repeatedly touched the tip of his nose with his index finger. He was thoroughly enjoying this, especially the fact that the Humanite was becoming more and more enraged by the moment.

“If you are the boy grown into a man, prove it.”

“Simple enough. You’re trying to take over the U.S. government through a fixing of the election that involves Jay Garrick’s candidacy and you’re aided by the Mimic.”

“Very good. I suppose that if you know about it in your future, let’s estimate 15 years from now, that I win.”

“Please, Magilla, don’t make me laugh. If you had won the election and put your puppet in power, do you really think I’d be here now? I mean c’mon, your plans always seem to get flushed down the toilet like a dead goldfish.” Superman-2 realized as he said it that it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The Humanite became enraged and leaped across the platform at the Man of Tomorrow, landing upon him with all the grace and inherent power that his ape form gave him. He lashed out at Superman-2, this time with the ferocity of a beast as he pounded and punched him and blasted the future Kryptonian with his brain blasts.

“Computer,” the Humanite screamed out, “arm secondary weapon and target my adversary with concentrated blasts of Kryptonite radiation.” Superman-2, knew he was doomed if he didn’t do what he had to do to allow history to follow its proper course. As the Kryptonite beams lanced into him, burning him with excruciating pain like he had never felt before, he looked up, and saw Pa floating over the battle, watching. The two Supermen’s eyes locked, and the man from the future used what little strength he had to warn him away with super-ventriloquism.

“Stay where you are, Pa. Don’t interfere. This is between him, me, and Superboy. You know me well enough to know that I know what I’m doing.” The older man nodded in acknowledgment, and did not move, which left Superman-2 free to do the one thing he most wished that he wouldn’t have to. “Forgive me, Clark. Please forgive me,” he thought as he reached back into the recesses of his memory for the words that would begin everything between him and the Humanite all over again.

“Help me, Clark. He’s going to kill me. Please, I can’t hold out much longer…” he said with super-ventriloquism just before he passed out.

Several hundred miles away, at the old Brooklyn Navy yards, Superboy was just finishing up with the rescue of the ocean-liner when he heard his future self’s cries of help. He turned to the ship’s captain, who was seeing to the safe disembarking of the passengers, and in a very serious tone of voice, said “I have to go captain. Someone else is in danger.” With that, he took off like a rocket, pushing himself beyond the limits of his super-speed. He hoped and prayed that he was in time. He had to be. His life, and the lives of each and every person that he would save one day, depended upon it.

“I just hope I’m in time,” he thought. “I just hope I’m in time.”

 

* * *

 

The Ultra-Humanite stared down at Superman-2, laughing malevolently as the Kryptonite cannon continued to bathe his foe with its deadly green rays. A determined, evil smile crossed his simian face. He was winning, and he knew it. He folded his massive arms behind his back and just waited for the Man of Tomorrow to expire. “You know something,” he said finally as he leaned in closer to Superman-2′s green hued face, “I didn’t think it was going to be this easy. It never was with your father.”

“You…haven’t…won…just…yet…,” the Man of Steel gasped out defiantly.

“Oh really? And just who is going to defeat me? Your younger self? Don’t make me laugh. If you, who claim to have experience in dealing with me were this easy to beat, it’ll be like child’s play handling him. I probably won’t even break a sweat.”

Behind the Humanite, the Kryptonite cannon exploded in a shower of sparks, and as he jerked his head around in surprise, he found Superboy floating about fifty feet above him, arms folded across his chest, the boy’s eyes still glowing from the heat vision blast he had just fired at the cannon. “I don’t think so, Magilla. You’re not so tough without your toys.”

Superboy’s appearance and the subsequent destruction of the cannon caught Ultra so completely off guard that he was ill-prepared for what happened next. The Boy of Steel flew straight at him and slammed into the Humanite with a combination of super-strength and super-speed, knocking him off the platform. As he watched the Humanite tumble over the side, Superboy landed next to Superman-2 and tried to help him up. “Are you OK?”

“Behind…you…,” the Man of Steel gasped out in response.

Superboy spun around to find the Humanite standing atop the platform again. Obviously, while he had been checking on Superman-2′s condition, the Humanite had somehow grasped onto the railing or the platform’s outer edge, and had used some kind of amazing Herculean effort to swing himself back up onto the platform. Superboy had forgotten just how strong and agile the Humanite’s ape body made him, a fact he would not forget next time.

“Amateurish, boy. Though I applaud your attempt,” Ultra said, as he pulled a thumb-sized metallic disc from inside one of his armor’s shoulder strap spikes and gently placed it on his left temple. The evil smile was once again on his simian face. “You have shown no fear in dealing with me. I truly admire that, but nevertheless, it is something that I will most definitely have to remedy.”

The device began to pulsate and emit a strange humming sound. Instantly, the Humanite’s head was engulfed in a glowing blue nimbus of energy. It seemed to swirl and dance around his head in amazing flashes of light and color, and just as quickly as it had appeared, it just as suddenly lanced out in a tendril of cascading electricity, striking Superboy dead center in the middle of his forehead. As it made contact, the Boy of Steel fell to his knees and grasped his head in agony. He had never felt pain like this before, and it just seemed to worsen as the seconds ticked by.

“You like?” the Humanite asked the Boy of Steel as he writhed in pain before the huge ape. “I call it a Psionic Fear Enhancer, or P.F.E. for short. It is specifically designed to target the fear centers of the super-powered Kryptonian brain. It forces the victim to experience an excruciating tableau of their own worst fears. I must admit that it is a little too timid of a weapon, but it does seem to get the job done. I was planning on testing it out on either your father or Power Girl, but since you have truly irritated me, you will have to do.”

Superboy didn’t hear him as he continued to expound on just how the device worked. He was too preoccupied with the horrifying images that clawed at him inside his mind. The Anti-Monitor. Ma and Pa. Mom and Dad. He saw them all just before it all went black. That was when he first heard the voice.

“You’re afraid!” the voice screamed at him from the blackness as a massive disembodied fist slammed into the side of his head seemingly from nowhere. He knew the enraged voice that shouted at him. It was his own.

“You’re afraid to accept that Mom and Dad are dead because you were helpless to stop the Anti-Monitor from destroying Earth-Prime!”

“No,” he whimpered in response as the massive fist struck him again.

“You’re afraid to think of Ma and Pa as your parents because you have this gnawing feeling in the back of your mind that you’re going to lose them too!”

“No,” he whimpered again, this time a bit louder, as the massive fist struck him a third time.

“You’re afraid to accept that Mom and Dad are really dead because then you’d have face the fact that you’re all alone, and the last survivor of your world!”

“No!” Superboy was screaming this time, as the massive fist struck him yet again. He couldn’t take this anymore, and it felt like his head was going to explode from the stress.

“You’re not alone, Clark.” The voice was a whisper, and it wasn’t the one screaming at him, but he did know who it belonged to. It was Superman-2′s voice. It seemed to be coming from behind, and as he heard it, he felt his future self gently grasp his shoulder.

“Mom and Dad are not dead, just so long as you remember them.” He felt some of his strength return as the Man of Tomorrow spoke to him. “Ma and Pa aren’t going anywhere, at least not for a very, very long time.” The words, a raspy whisper seemed to echo in his ears, bringing with them a feeling of calm that washed the fear from him.

The massive fist moved in to strike again, but Superboy seized it roughly in his hands and threw it away from himself. He had broken the device’s hold on him, and, as he did so, he saw that it wasn’t a disembodied fist from the darkness that assaulted him, but rather it was the Humanite’s own. As he awoke from the trance that had held him in the grip of fear, he watched as the Humanite crashed into the platform’s railing, and realized that he had done that.

“You wanna try that again, Magilla,” he asked as he lifted the huge ape up with one hand and pulled him in so close that they were face to face, “or do you just wanna surrender and put an end to this?”

“Hardly,” the Humanite snarled back as his massive simian legs kicked into Superboy, pushing the two combatants apart. “I think that I shall retire for the day and lick my wounds. But know this boy, this is not over. Not by a long shot.” The Humanite touched a concealed button located on the golden disc attached to his armor, and as he did so, a shimmering doorway opened next to him. In a matter of a few seconds, the Humanite had escaped the Boy of Steel’s grasp by leaping through the dimensional portal, and closing it behind him before Superboy could follow.

“I’m looking forward to it, Magilla,” Superboy replied to empty space, “I’m looking forward to it.” He helped Superman-2 up and flew the two of them back to the cave on the Connecticut coast where this adventure had started only a few hours before. Behind them, the Humanite’s floating weapons platform exploded, vaporizing itself in the process. Whether this explosion was the result of a self-destruct signal sent by the Humanite from wherever he was hiding, or due to the damage it sustained during the fight, Superboy didn’t know. What’s more, he really didn’t care. Right now, all he cared about was getting back to the cave and seeing if his counterpart was all right.

“Maybe now we can finally finish that conversation we were having earlier,” Superman-2 finally said as they touched down on the wet sand in front of cave, his voice more like it should be than it had been a few moments before inside Superboy’s head

“I’d like that,” Superboy replied, smiling. “I’d like that a lot.”

 

* * *

 

Superman-2 sat on a medium-sized boulder inside the mouth of the cave where he had first encountered his younger self. It had only been a few minutes since his battle with the Ultra-Humanite, and while he really didn’t need to recover much more from the effects of the intense kryptonite bath he had been exposed to, it did feel good to actually sit down and catch his breath. It was times like this that reminded him that at one time he was once only human. He looked over at his younger self, and for the first time noticed the wave of concern that had now become evident on the teen’s face.

“You OK?” Superboy said at last, taking a few tentative steps toward his elder self. “That kryptonite seems to have hit you pretty hard.”

Superman-2 waved his younger self off, shaking his head. “I’m fine, really. That wasn’t anything that I haven’t felt before. I just need a couple of minutes to catch my breath. While I’m doing that, how about we continue our conversation from earlier?”

“Sure,” Superboy replied as he sat cross-legged on the wet sand in front of the Man of Steel. “Uhhh, where were we?”

Superman-2 smiled. “I was telling you that you need to grow up a bit, go home, and work out your problems with Ma and Pa. After what we just went through today, you’re already on your way toward taking a few steps toward that first part.”

“I don’t know if I can do the rest,” Superboy said, averting his eyes from his older self’s face as they began to well up with tears. “I said some pretty awful things to both of them and I’m not sure if they’d really want me to come back after that.”

Superman-2 reached down and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Look, we all say things in the heat of an argument that we come to regret later. And while it doesn’t excuse it, Ma and Pa both know that, and they’re not going to turn you away. They just want you to come home to the farm so that you guys can sit down as a family and talk it out.”

“Really?”

“Really. In fact, do you know what Pa’s been doing all day while you’ve been hiding out in this cave?”

“No, what?”

“He was at the Secret Citadel using the Kryptonian technology there to search the globe for you. He had finally located you and was about to come and talk to you in private when the two of us engaged old Magilla.” The Man of Steel stopped for a second, turned his head to glance over his shoulder out the mouth of the cave, waited a moment, and continued. “Isn’t that right, Pa?”

“Yeah,” came a very familiar voice from outside the cave, “that’s right.” Superman-1 stepped into view, walked over to his son and gestured for the boy to stand up. The age lines on his face seemed to accentuate the concern he felt for the boy, as well as the relief that his son was indeed OK.

Superboy stood up and faced his adoptive father, tears streaming down his face. The two stood across from each other motionless in silence, for what seemed like an eternity, both not sure what to do next. Finally, after the moment had indeed passed, father and son reached out to each other and embraced.

“I’m sorry, Pa. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“It’s OK, son. We’ll talk about all when we get home and can sit down and discuss it like a family.”

Superman-2 watched quietly as the two held each other, and smiled. For him, this was all just history. Internally, he breathed a sigh of relief since he was relieved that things were actually going the way they were supposed to. “Not that I really want to intrude upon this family moment,” Superman-2 began, “but there’s a few things that I need to discuss with you both.” Father and son pulled away from each other and nodded back in agreement at the Man of Tomorrow.

Superman-2 stood up and stepped over to Superboy, once again placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Things are going to be difficult for you now. You’ve made yourself a very dangerous enemy in the Humanite, and as Pa can definitely tell you, he tends to hold a grudge. He’s going to try and make your life a living hell at every turn, but you can’t falter in your resolve.

“And he’s not going to be the only one–Dox, Master FX, the Director, the Succubus, the Borrower, Bonechill, Cybron, Wildshark, Jigsaw, Lady Lightning, Nicknack the Master of Toys, Neila, the Robot Master, Reverso, Mister Sinister, the Green-Eyed Mobster, Mentallo, a new Metalo, and an all-new Prankster–just to name a few. You’re going to have a rogues gallery that will put Pa’s and Kal’s combined to shame. Because of them, you are going to surpass Pa and become an even greater hero than him–”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because, Clark,” Superman-2 continued, “what is yet to come for you, is more important than all that you have lost. Don’t get me wrong, Mom and Dad’s deaths are tragic and important to what makes you who you are, but, to paraphrase what Bones McCoy said, ‘They’re really not dead, just so long as you remember them.’

“Besides, for all we know, Earth-Prime could still be out there somewhere, just inaccessible like all the other Earths. Mom and Dad could still be alive, and if they are, I know for a fact that they would want you to move on with your life and not dwell in the past so much.”

“He’s right, son,” Superman-1 said. “That’s exactly what I imagine Jor-L and Lora would want me to do.”

“There’s just one other thing, Clark,” Superman-2 said. “I know that you’re not going to listen to me on this next bit, but I still have to say it. You should forget about Laurie, because it’s going to end very badly.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Superboy had a puzzled look on his face as he asked the question.

“I really can’t say, rules of time travel and all. However, you need to keep this idea in the back of your mind, because you’re not meant to be together, and knowing this will make things easier.”

“If Laurie and I aren’t meant to be together, then who am I supposed to be with?” Superboy was insistent this time.

“Again,” Superman-2 began, “I can’t say. All that I can tell you, is that you almost lose her because you’re afraid to open up and tell her how you feel. When you finally do tell her, she tells you that she’s been waiting so long for you to say it, and that she almost gave up hope. Almost.”

“But…who…is…she?”

Superman-2 smiled as he watched his younger self squirm. He so wanted to tell the boy everything he wanted to know, but that was impossible. “All I can tell you, is that the word ‘jeepers’ is a very big and important part of her vocabulary. Beyond that, you’ll have to figure the rest out for yourself. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Clark, Pa and I need to have a few words in private, so go on home. Now.”

Superboy was about to protest, but both of the Supermen shot him a rather forceful look, and he reluctantly nodded and took off into the late afternoon sky, winging his way back to Smallville. After a few minutes had passed, when they were both sure that Clark had indeed arrived back at the farmhouse in Smallville, the two Men of Steel looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Did you really have to say the word ‘jeepers’ to him?” Superman-1 asked his grown-up son. “He’s going to figure it out, you know.”

“I know, Pa,” Superman-2 replied, “that’s the idea. He is going to figure it out, but not right away. Besides, I have to get him prepared for the future. And he did do that today when he saved that cruise ship. He saved one individual in particular who is very important to this country’s future.”

“Oh? Who?”

“One of the ship’s passengers was newly elected Arizona Senator John McCain, who just so happens to be the President of the United States in my time.”

“Right, I see. You said that you needed to talk to me about something. Well, here I am. Talk to me.”

“I can’t tell you much about what I know, because it might change your future and my past, but the Humanite is up to something.”

“I figured as much, Cal,” Superman-1 said. “He doesn’t just attack cruise ships unless he has something to gain, such as money, power, or both.”

“Yeah. Today was a diversion from what he’s been planning the last year or so, but also it was a chance to remove an obstacle that he’s been dealing with for almost fifty years, namely you. Were he to get you out of the way, his plan could go ahead without him worrying about being thwarted in his efforts as you usually do.”

“I see, go on.”

“What he’s up to is very, VERY big. Tomorrow, you need to call Carter Hall, and tell him that he needs to call an emergency session of the JSA. When you’re all together, tell them what happened today, without mentioning my involvement of course, and get them to start being a little more vigilant and observant when it comes to Magilla and his activities.”

“That’s not much to go on, Cal.”

“I know, Pa, I know. But just trust me on this. The fate of this nation, and that of the world, depends upon it.”

Superman-1 was startled by what his grown son had said to him, but didn’t let on. “Are you leaving now?”

“Yeah, kinda have to. Jenny will kill me if I don’t get home soon. You know how redhead’s are. They have very fiery tempers.” With that said, he smiled at his father, reached around his belt and pulled the trans-temporal inverter out. He depressed a small switch on its face with his thumb and disappeared in a shimmering flash of blue light.

Superman-1 was left standing in the sand by himself as the sun began to dip below the horizon. As he watched the sun set, a chill went up his spine, and he began to feel as though things had just taken a very nasty turn for the worse.

Epilogue I: The Ultra-Humanite’s Hidden Lair – 3 Hours Later

The Ultra-Humanite sat quietly in the darkened computer room, his simian features barely illuminated by the dull glow of the single working terminal before him. He had been sitting here, in the dark, for the last three hours completely motionless, his huge gorilla hands steepled in front of his grim face. He had been mulling over recent events with Superboy and the man who claimed to be the Boy of Steel’s counterpart from the future, wondering where he had gone wrong. He was not happy.

“My plans were flawless,” he whispered finally. “The boy should not have been able to defeat me as…easily…as he did. What could have gone wrong? I planned for everything, down to the last minute detail, and yet I was still defeated. Perhaps, I have greatly underestimated Superboy, much as I have done on numerous previous encounters with his father. Of course, the appearance of this so-called ‘Superman-2′ did not help matters at all.”

“Ah, the Boy of Steel, such a pain,” answered a strange guttural voice from the surrounding shadows, “much like his father who turned me into a shadowy stain.”

“Shut up, Sinister,” the Humanite growled back. “I have no need of your two-bit rhyming at this very moment. You would not like it if I put you back where I found you, turned you back into a ‘shadowy stain’ as you put it. This was merely a minor setback in the scheme of things. The Superman Family shall be destroyed soon enough, and the boy will never grow into the man I faced this day. This will not affect my plans for the election in the least.”

“Perhaps,” replied Mr. Sinister as he stepped from the shadows, the dull glow from the computer terminal now illuminating his pale purple skin. “You have, however, said words like those before. What makes you think that this time will be any different from all those others, you smelly gorilla?”

The Humanite sneered for a long moment at his erstwhile companion, and then began roaring in laughter. “Because this time, my dear friend, Superman, and the JSA by extension, has no idea at all what I’m really up to. I will take over this pitiful country and destroy the Man of Steel. SO SWEARS THE ULTRA-HUMANITE!”

As the Ultra-Humanite left the computer room, boasting of his sheer brilliance and utter greatness, Mr. Sinister stood there for a moment in utter silence, wondering just exactly what he had gotten himself into this time by joining forces with the Ultra-Humanite, and all he could think of were three simple little words: Famous Last Words.

 

* * *

 

Epilogue II: The Connecticut Coast – 3 Days Later

Superboy gently touched down on the beach in front of the cave where the adventure of three days past had begun, and watched the waves crash around him against the shore. A lot of things had happened, a lot of things that he needed to think about. He’d worked everything out with Ma and Pa, and apologized for his actions. He knew he was wrong. He only wished that he could change what had happened, but that was impossible now. The only thing that he could do from here on is learn from his mistakes and grow from the experience.

C.J. had returned to the beach to try and collect his thoughts a bit before going home and getting ready for tomorrow’s big game against Midvale High. Superman-2 had said a lot of things to him, about why he had come back in time, what his future would bring, and the great responsibility that he had before him. Some of those things were starting to sink in, but others, for some unknown reason, he just couldn’t remember. He knew that the Man of Tomorrow had said some very important things about his future, specifically about Laurie, but for the life of him, every time he concentrated on those things and tried to remember them, he just couldn’t.

Maybe it was a side effect of the time travel, and maybe it wasn’t. C.J. didn’t know, he wasn’t an expert on things like that. What he did know was that he was not going to let it deter him in the things he did. He knew now that things were destined to work out for the best, and whatever the outcome, whatever mistakes he might make, he was going to be OK. Pa had said that night when they got home that making mistakes was just a part of growing up.

C.J. looked skyward, thinking of his parents, Jerome and Naomi, and smiled. He wasn’t sad anymore. Wherever they were now, whether they were alive or dead, they’d want him to be happy, and to move on. He couldn’t dwell in the past anymore, but he could live for the future. After all, he was destined to one day become Superman.

“Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad,” he called out to the emptiness of the secluded beach. “I love you both and I miss you so much, but for the first time in a long while, I’m gonna be OK.” Superboy leaped into the sky and soared back to Smallville, the smile still on his face. He was content. He had finally buried the past and was now ready for whatever the future had in store for him.

And somewhere, Jerry and Naomi Kent were also smiling. They were so proud of their boy. He had finally moved on from his pain, and they knew that he was going to be OK.

 

The End