Superman created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster. Superman and all related characters are owned and copyrighted by DC Comics and Time-Warner. This is a work of fan fiction and no profit was gained from its creation.

This is an Elseworlds tale based mostly on pre-crisis Superman and though the tale starts in Smallville it moves to Metropolis and the future to explore why a "Superman" needs people and the effects the type of life he leads has on him, because, after all, we're all.


By hanemg

The midday sun shined down brightly upon the Kansas countryside providing the perfect temperature for a perfect summer day. Jonathan Kent took a break from his work installing a new section of fence along the property line of his farm and sat down on the tailgate of his old Ford pickup. He opened his canteen and took a drink of water while he enjoyed the very mild weather and looked around the farm.

Jonathan had grown up on this farm and had inherited ownership of it following his father's death several years ago. A small smile graced his face as he sat there looking out over the fields. He never ceased to gain a sense of peace when he was out alone somewhere on the farm performing some chore. It had even become a sort of therapy for him over the past couple of years since he and Martha had been having difficulty conceiving. Jonathan just wished he could share the peace he felt during these times with Martha.

As he sat there contemplating this Jonathan's reverie was interrupted by the arrival of his neighbor, Carl Tackett, on horseback.

"Hey, Carl," Jonathan said greeting the man. "I thought you'd be on your barn roof all day."

"Nah, too nice of a day to be working. I decided to take the day off and exercise old Tonto here." Carl replied patting his horse.

Jonathan laughed. "I'd have thought that a nice day would have been the best one to do roofing work."

"Not one as nice as this one. You need to learn to stop and smell the roses sometime, Jonathan. Otherwise, you'll spend all your life working and never get to appreciate the things you work for."

"You might be right, Carl, you might be right," Jonathan said. "Still, sometimes it's best to enjoy things after the work is done. Never can tell, maybe a rainstorm could be coming just around the corner."

"Trust me Jonathan," Carl said shaking his head, "there's nothing bad going on anywhere in the universe on a day like today."


Sweat dripped from the end of Jor-El's nose onto the warp core casing he was trying to fit into the small spacecraft. For the hundredth time that hour he wiped a lubricant stained hand across his face to remove the sweat that blurred his vision. He didn't need to check his chronometer to tell that the current groundquake had lasted longer than any of the previous ones. It was the seventh one that morning and easily the longest yet. Only the engineering of the building made it possible for him to continue working despite the upheaval below.

The ship on which he was now working was supposed to have been the test vehicle for his new warp drive, but the increase in seismic activity this morning had forced him to change his plans. He realized that he needed to abandon any hope of completing the larger craft and focus soling on making this smaller ship ready for an interstellar voyage.

His world was ending.

As Jor-El completed the last connection and closed the access panel his attention was drawn by the cries of a small child. Turning around he saw his wife, Lara, carrying their son toward him. She was attempting to calm him, but was having little luck, as she herself was unable to stop crying. Jor-El stopped for a moment and simply stared at his young wife and their child as she stopped near him and began to rock and sing softly trying to quiet the boy's fears.

They had had so many dreams, he and Lara and far too little time together though he felt as though he had known and loved her for an eternity. The small child she held he loved still more if that were possible. He wanted to rant at the heavens for the unfairness of it all, but knew he didn't have time for the luxury of self-pity. He was jousting against destiny today and the fates be damned he would not lose. Not this.

He stepped toward his young family and embraced them both for the last time. Looking into his wife's eyes the two spoke without the need for words and each drew strength from the other. Jor-El took his young son and placed him into the ship strapping the crying toddler into the acceleration chair. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the child's cheek and touched his forehead with his own lingering for a moment as he tried to control his emotions.

"Rao be with you, my son," was his simple benediction before closing the canopy and joining his wife at the launch control.

An adjoining building suddenly collapsed as a fissure began to open on the far side of the street. Jor-El ignored the pandemonium as he stood with one arm around Lara staring at the ship for a moment before speaking.

"Live," he said as he brought his fist down like a hammer on the launch button.

The ship's engines ignited and it sprang from the rooftop just as the fissure reached the bottom of the building causing it to list sideways and begin to collapse in upon itself.


The planet's atmosphere was quickly becoming choked with noxious smoke and fumes as more and more eruptions began to occur across it's surface opening new fissures and exposing the interior of the planet to the light of the sun. The radiation from the unstable core of the planet caused the smoke to take on a greenish hue, which lit by the fires that now scoured the surface of the planet, caused the planet to glow a sickly green color as smoke filled the atmosphere.

A tiny point of reflected light announced the exit of a tiny missile through the clouds. As it reached breakaway speed the picture was shattered by the sudden detonation of the planet. The sound of the detonation itself ripped through what was left of the planet's atmosphere, but was quickly rendered impotent as it was swallowed by the void of space muffling the death screams of billions of individuals into silence.

The only witness to the incident was the young child, the last survivor of a once great civilization, who was the sole passenger of the small ship that struggled to outpace the rapidly spreading debris field. The child screamed for his mother in a now dead language as the sound of debris hitting the hull of the craft echoed through the darkness around him. He continued his futile screams until exhaustion overtook him and he fell asleep still gasping to catch his breath for his next tirade. The craft's experimental warp engine whined as it tore a hole in the fabric of space and accelerated through the artificial wormhole toward a distant point in the Spiral Arm of the galaxy followed by several pieces of the green glowing remnants of a now dead world.


The orphan from the stars grew to adolescence on a farm in the mid-western section of a continent located on a planet hundreds of lightyears from the one of his birth. Under the influence of his adopted world's yellow star his biology began to exhibit astounding advances. His physical and mental development outstripped any imagined by the people of either his adopted world or the one of his birth. Before he reached puberty he was already more powerful than any being who had ever been born on a world whose history boasted the births of numerous powerful individuals.

His power though was tempered by lessons learned at the knee of two extraordinary people. Jonathan and Martha Kent had wanted a child since the moment they had said, " I do" to each other. Biology, however, had proven to be a barrier that even their love could not overcome. After several years of trying their doctor had been forced to tell them that conception simply was not possible. The news had been crushing to the couple, but they had born the burden together and came out the stronger as both individuals and as a couple because of it. After a difficult period of acceptance the couple adjusted to the situation and began to continue their lives together. Then fate stepped in to provide them with a child from the heavens and they named him Clark.

Because of their situation or perhaps in spite of it Jonathan and Martha proved to be the perfect parents for a demigod toddler. They provided the perfect balance of patience, encouragement, and moral guidance. The boy's nature provided the rest. On that farm in Kansas performing the everyday chores of the men and women who existed by the whims of nature Clark learned the lessons that taught him to respect all life and it's diversity. He also came to the conclusion that a being such as himself had some level of responsibility to not waste the gifts given to him by the vagaries of fate and perhaps he owed it to his adopted world to utilize them for the greater good.

Shortly before his thirteenth birthday Clark approached his parents with his thoughts on how he could utilize his abilities. The three spent several evenings over supper discussing the matter and developing, discarding and refining plans. Finally all were in agreement though each was somewhat nervous in his or her own way about the outcome. However, when Clark stepped out of his room for the first time wearing his brand new uniform of red, blue, and yellow everything seemed right.