Title: A Thin Veneer

Author: Smallvillian

Rating: G

Author's note: This is a companion piece to "My Candle Burns at Both Ends." It is Martha's PoV of that night.

I can't see his face through the darkness, but I know.

He is awake, as he has been for the past several nights, thinking he has spared me this mysterious melancholy, his same restless sleep, and I allow him that little lie. My Jonathan, he is forever the doting husband, bent on the notion that misery does not love company and he should bear it alone. So, when he slips silently from our bed, I say nothing.

You see, I know my husband, and right now he does not want nor need my comfort but instead only the thought that I am in the peaceful place that eludes him tonight ...though, in truth, I am far from it. The quiet of him in these early morning hours unnerves me. Normally a somewhat fitful sleeper, it only reminds me of this secret pain he bears. Something heavy weighs on his heart and mind and so it weighs on mine.

He has gone upstairs, I think, and I wonder if this nightly trip is anything like the many made by us both when Clark was still a youngster clad in the little spaceship pajamas he always insisted on wearing. I knew my husband's troubles then, of course, because they were my own--that the bubble of contentment would burst around our little family and somehow our baby would be gone from our lives just a swiftly and unexpectedly as he had come.

What draws you up those steps tonight, Jonathan?

For so many years we dreamed of having children, hearing the laughter of little ones throughout our home, and when the news came that there would be no children, it was at once my greatest sadness and my worst fear. I would never be a mother and maybe, just maybe my dear husband, despite his best intentions, would look elsewhere for a woman who could and would give him the beautiful children I saw each night in my dreams and knew he wanted. But the only place he ever looked was into my eyes when he held me and said "All I want in this life is to be your husband. The only children I want are the ones who call you 'mom.' "

I can never put into words how much I loved him for that.

So for a time we were happy together, just he and I, but it didn't keep me from wanting and hoping. I think that was the hardest part, hoping for something that deep down I knew could never be, and I had begun to accept that cruel fate...when suddenly, one day, there was Clark-- a little package of love of and laughter literally dropped into our lives and I knew; he was what I had been waiting for. Jonathan wasn't quite as open to this little tike of ours at first, convinced that no one, not even a race literally alien to us, would just give their child away, send him to complete strangers in another world and leave it simply at that. I guess he was, as they say, waiting for the other shoe to drop before fatherhood snuck up on him. But as it turns out, all it took was a sweet, dark haired little boy wriggling up into his lap and falling asleep in the safety of his arms that first night for my logical, practical, immovable other half to melt like warm butter and there was no turning back. Clark was ours, just as I knew he would be.

Yes, he was ours and so, it turns out, were the worries that came the day he showed us just how special he really was. I must admit, it's not every day a woman learns her little one can strong-arm full grown men. There aren't exactly manuals for that. What to Expect From The Toddler Years skipped that particular chapter as far as I can tell. But Clark, he was careful just as he was taught, a good boy--no major tantrums or fits of boastfulness and ego, no open defiance--not until last summer. Not before Jor-El.

Jor-El.

The name turns my stomach, brings with it a hatred I've never known, and I wish again that I had taken that key and sent it to the most nether regions of this earth. If only I had, maybe none of this would have happened. My only son would not have disappeared all those months into a thick haze red Kryptonite reeking havoc on the world at large. My husband would now be asleep by my side...

He returns. I hear his gentle footfall then feel the gentle dip in the mattress as he lays himself down beside me. His eyes are on me. I can feel them watching and before thinking better of it, I open mine and stare back at him. His look is lingering and warm as it wanders my body as if hoping to commit every detail to memory.

"Hey," he says finally, brushing a wayward strand from my cheek and settling closer. My response is automatic as I wrap my arms around him and nestle my form against his while he sighs into the crook of my neck, allowing the comfort I offer him now. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Make me waffles in the morning and we'll call it even." I feel his smile against my skin and can't help but giggle.

"With the works," he promises and seals it with a kiss. For a moment I fool myself into believing that all is right in the Kent household. In the end I know the truth. I know he still holds tight to the secret he thinks he has so cleverly hidden, but I trust him. I know that whatever it is, family is first in his heart.

You see, I know my husband.

The end