OCC: Jordon Jonathan Kent
Summary: Saturday evening dinner on the Kents farm isn't as easy as you would think.
Explanation of Elsewheres verse:
This is an AU of current DC canon. It incorporates aspects of comic canon and toonverse canon. What this means is basically no IC.
Tim origin is toonverse.
Jason Todd exists and death is as per Death in the Family.
Red Hood Jason Todd is not the same Jason Todd that died in DitF.
Clark and Lois have recently finalized their divorce for irreconcilable differences.
Jordon Kent (10yrs) and Jacqueline Napier Wayne (7yrs) are from an elsewhere world. They are the only known survivors from their world.
Jordon currently is staying with Martha and Jonathan Kent. Jack is living, mostly at Alfred's instance, at Wayne manor.
'Em' Emily Elizabeth Pennyworth (early 30's), may or may not be a elsewhere. She spent most of her life England but recently moved to the states. She's living at the manor while her father health improves.
For more in the Elsewheres verse look here
Saturday evening on the Kent’s farm was a quiet time. The sun would disappear below the horizon soon, and Jordon knew Gra—Aunt Martha would be calling him for super soon.
Jordon lay back against the side of the barn. Maybe she’d forget.
He kind of hoped she would.
Kon was off with his friends doing things that were probably much cooler than hanging out with him. Jordon made a face.
Not to mention Clark, Jordon was pleased he didn’t have to correct himself, was there for supper.
So maybe she’d forget.
Expect she never had forgotten before.
“I hate this.” Jordon muttered and got to his feet.
He kicked the dirt and thought about following Kon next weekend. At least Kon seemed to like him. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself.” Jordon ordered himself. “You’ve got it good. You could be in some lab or stuck with the Bats like Jack.”
Krypto lifted his head as Jordon started up the porch steps. “Hiya boy.”
The dog put his head back down and thumped his tail. Jordon leaned down and starched Krypto’s ears.
He could see them through the window. Clark and his parents sat around the kitchen table talking in low voices.
“Not that he cares where I am anyways.” Jordon whispered to Krypto.
“I’m not sure having him here is a wise idea, son.” Jordon recognized his grandfather’s voice raised slightly.
Jordon pressed his ear to the slightly open window wishing he had super-hearing. Krypto licked his hand and Jordon sighed. To bad Krypto couldn’t talk. The dog could probably hear everything they were saying.
Jordon couldn’t hear anything else.
Jordon sat down with his back to the porch rails and hugged his knees. Krypto whimpered and nudged his arm. “Go away.” He muttered to the dog.
Martha Kent’s voice floated out the window. “You should find Jordon, Clark. It’s almost time for supper.”
Jordon scrambled to his feet and down the porch steps. He’d hide in the hay loft and pretend he wasn’t hungry. Maybe Clark would just let him be. Kon had to have some snacks hidden up there.
Krypto grabbed Jordon’s pants leg and tugged. “What Krypto?” Jordon asked crossing his arms over his chest. In a flash the dog was gone and back.
Krypto dropped a ball at Jordon’s feet.
“I don’t want to play.” Jordon tried to explain.
Krypto looked up at him tail wagging, tongue hanging out.
“Okay, I’ll throw it once!” Jordon kicked the dirt again. He picked up the ball and threw it across the yard.
Well, okay it didn’t go completely across the yard, or really even half-way. “I suck.” Jordon muttered as Krypto happily retrieved the ball.
The ball was dropped back at his feet and Jordon smiled slightly. “Totally set myself up, huh?” He threw the ball again and again.
Each time Krypto brought it back.
“He loves playing fetch.” Clark said when Krypto came bounding back for the twentieth time.
Jordon spun around. Clark stood arms crossed over his chest. Okay another use for having super-hearing, being able to hear someone sneak up on you. Maybe Jack knew a non-super way of doing, he’d ask her next time he saw her. That was if he ever got to see her again.
Krypto carried the ball over and dropped it at Clark’s feet. Clark smiled and picked the ball up. When he threw the ball, it went much further than just across the yard. Half-way across the farm was more like it, Jordon thought bitterly.
The ball was dropped at Jordon’s feet when Krypto came back.
“Kon said I could play with him!” Jordon blurted out, then looked at his feet.
Krypto dropped the ball, and licked Jordon’s hand.
“I’m sure Connor did, Jordon.” Clark said smiling. He held his hands out palm up. Like Jordon was going to attack him or something.
“Kon,” Jordon said stressing his brother’s name. “Said Krypto used to be yours.”
Clark nodded. “He was. Dinner’s ready by the way.”
Jordon kicked the dirt, not looking at Clark.
There was nothing but the sound of the farm and the wind for several moments. When a large hand touched Jordon’s shoulder he jumped slightly. “You don’t have to come in, if you don’t want to. Ma will understand.” Clark’s forehead was slightly creased. “I—or Ma or Pa can bring you something later if you want.”
Jordon craned his neck to look up at Clark. “What are we having?” he asked softly.
“Fried Chicken, mashed potatoes, fresh string beans, and apple pie with ice cream for dessert.” Clark told him.
Jordon heisted just long enough to make Clark look uncertain. “Okay.”
Things went down hill pretty quickly after that in Jordon’s thoughts.
“Jordon, will you say grace?” Jonathan Kent asked.
Jordon turned three shades of red. “Yes, sir.” He frowned at his food.
“We wish peace, food, and happiness to all the people in the world. Amen.” Jordon hurried out. His dad used to say that grace before dinner.
The food was passed around, and Jordon took his food muttering thanks each time.
In their town home in Metropolis, dad had done most of the cooking. He burned things a lot but it always tasted good. His mom’s idea of cooking had been take out. They’d all hold hands and say grace before dinner.
Sometimes his mom and dad would hold hands through most of dinner.
“The foods good, ma’ma.” Jordon said between bites of food.
“How’s school been, Jordon?” Clark asked as he sat his milk down.
Martha and Jonathan Kent exchanged a look.
“Fine.” Jordon muttered around his glass of milk.
“Jordon,” Jonathan said after a moment. “Isn’t there something you want to tell, Clark?”
Jordon pushed at his mash potatoes with his fork. “No.”
“Jordon got in trouble this week for fighting.” Jonathan told Clark.
Clark frowned across the table at Jordon. Jordon wondered if he could sink through the chair. Bet they never gave Kon this kind of trouble.
“Jordon, you know how I feel about fighting.” Clark started.
Jordon pushed his plate away from him. “It was no big deal!”
“Fighting is always big deal…” Clark started to say.
“Mr. and Mrs. Kent, can I be excused to go to my room? I’m not hungry anymore.” Jordon pushed his chair away from the table.
Jordon hated the hurt look on his grandmot—Aunt Martha’s face. “Jordon, stay, finish your dinner.”
“No, thank you.” Jordon said he didn’t even clean his spot before he headed up to his room. Kon’s room really. They’d just shoved him in there too in a bunk bed, until the second office was set up as a room for him.
He climbed into the top bunk, and curled next to the wall.
No one came up to see if he wanted pie.
And he really had wanted a piece of pie.