The call came early in the morning, hours after Jonathan Kent had been admitted into the hospital. Hours after his heart had stopped on the operating table.

"Clark? Are you there?"

"Yeah ma. I'm here. I have some bad news."

Ma Kent sat down in a rickety oak chair in the kitchen, dressed in her night gown. The smell of pork roast from that night's dinner still lingered in the air. "What is it dear...?"

Clark took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat. "It's Jon. He... Lois found him when he came home. He managed to get a hold of some kryptonite-" Clark's voice cracked. Ma Kent nearly dropped the phone. She was thankful she'd sat down.

"He's in a coma Ma. We don't know if he's brain dead or not. He just came out of surgery... I didn't-"

"Hush Clark." A mother's soothing unbroken voice filled the phone line, strength hiding her overwhelming guilt and pain. "He's a strong little boy. He'll be alright. I'm so sorry son."

"Just... pray for him. Please Mama."

"Our prayers in Kansas will be with him. How's Lois holding up?"

The hero's wife had finally cried herself to sleep just about an hour ago. Her head rested on Clark's strong shoulder and her dark brunette locks draped over her red teary eyes. The hair that had once been tied back into a sophisticated bun was now a heap on her head.

"About as well as she can do... She's stronger than I could ever imagine. We'll work though this together... even if we don't end up staying together." The son answered. 

"Don't think about that now. Clark son, I can be there by tomorrow night if I fly over..." She offered.

"No... no, you need to take care of the farm at this time of year. Besides, you're right here with us just like Pa..."

"Alright... Yes, that's good. Now get some rest. He'll need his father when he wakes up." Her strong voice hid the tears in her eyes once more.

"Thank you. I'll call you when I know more."

"Goodnight Clark. I love you." Her worn Hand clamped over her mouth to keep sobs at bay. Martha hadn't felt this much emotional pain since her son had 'died'. Now her grand baby was on the verge of death.

"I love you too." Clark hung up the phone, then stared down at the screen as he pulled up the contact number. Damian deserved to know. Even if Bruce didn't.

His thumb came down on the screen and the device was held hesitantly to his ear. He could hear Bruce's strong heart beat.

Ba-dum...

Ba-dum...

Ba-dum...

The man was calm. Which meant he'd be able to answer the call even at this hour.

He couldn't hear the slight shift in Bruce's cape and Klever, but the sound of the line connecting told him Bruce had answered the comm.

There was a moment of silence before Clark spoke. "It's Clark. I need you to come down to the hospital now. It's Jon."

Little did the superhero know that Bruce's comm was linked with Damian's. And Robin's head was spinning so much he had to brace himself on the wall of the alleyway they happened to be strolling in.

"What's the situation?" Bruce's rough voice came through.

"He's in a coma. Possibly brain dead. Just... get here please. Damian deserves to see him."

Before Bruce had even responded the bird was on his way via grapple, flying across the city on unfailing wings.

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Merry Christmas!!!
Sorry for the wait!