Author's Note: This was written for the sr-slash LiveJournal community November Challenge, prompt word, well, destiny. ;) I just forgot to post it here.

Destiny

I don't believe in destiny.

At least… I didn't.

I was raised to believe that a man got what he earned; you make your own in this world and that's that. Life rewards those who work hard and punishes those who don't. A very simple axiom that led me through high school and college, smooth sailing. Everything in the system was designed to reinforce this belief that was the backbone of my work ethic.

Not only that, but it got me everything I wanted: a great job, a fiancée soon-to-be-wife, a kid that made me realize there are some things worth dying for in this world.

And if I missed working in the field or if I occasionally noticed that the woman I wanted to marry didn't seem to want to marry me back, well, it all came with the territory as far as I could tell. No one's life is perfect and I could accept that.

But exactly two years ago, yesterday, something happened that not only challenged what I thought was true, but turned it on its head and demanded its lunch money.

The ghost from Christmas past returned, flying around the world in one swift night and changing the face of it so drastically we couldn't help but wonder how we had schlepped along without him all that time.

So it's no surprise that, along with the other six billion people on this planet, Lois got to thinking.

But suddenly everything I had worked so hard for was crumbling in my hands, everything I touched was going to dust.

Lois became the wife I would never have, the love that I had lost before we'd even met to a man that hadn't even bothered to say goodbye to her or sit through her nine months of hurling objects at the nearest moving target whenever Jason kicked. He wasn't there when she'd needed someone to hold back her hair to keep it out of the toilet or the had to calm her down the first time Jason would sit still for his diaper changing.

But that wasn't enough for her. And I found, strangely enough after all this time, that it wasn't enough for me either.

Jason became the son I wished I could have. The boy I'd poured my heart and soul into for five years was snatched from me in the space of three words. He's not yours. Like it's that simple? Like any of us belongs to another person? Of course Jason isn't mine. But he's my son, blood or no, and damned if I'd let him get away that easy.

Superman became the first hero I wanted to hate. He'd flown away without a second thought, leaving all the pieces behind for me to stumble across and wonder if, maybe, I could have something if I put them back together.

At the very least, even if I had nothing, at least I had it all figured out.

But then Superman, who I later came to know as Kal-El, saved our lives. Saved my life, more than once.

And now I'm not so sure about destiny. That first night on the roof I was just going up to thank him for what he did, nothing more; I thought about passing on the news that I was moving out of the house, but I was pretty sure Lois would take care of that end of things.

But nothing I could ever do for Superman would compare to the gift of Jason. Even if he wasn't my gift to have, all the bitterness and anger I could have hurled at him disappeared every time I remembered: he's the reason that Jason is here.

And when he pulled out those thick black glasses another night, begging me for advice about how to tell her, I couldn't help but take him under my wing. After all, I'd been through the obstacle course otherwise known as courting Lois Lane and knew he'd need all the help he could get. You'd think it would have bothered me, but it was like feeding a puppy treats. The smile on his face made it all worth it. I didn't even care after awhile that he was going to have all those things I'd worked so hard for.

When he told me he was scared to talk to Jason I'll admit that I laughed, but soon I saw that he shared every ugly thought I'd originally had about him, the same ones I was now ashamed of.

Somewhere along the line, we stopped meeting to strategize or for me to give him advice and started going out and doing things like regular people: movies, dinner, even theater and opera. It was odd; I never quite knew how to feel around Kal. Being with him was the most effortless thing I'd ever done and I couldn't wrap my brain around it.

But I didn't resist in the slightest when, one bitter cold night we were walking back to my apartment, he wrapped his big warm body around me and teased me about buying a new jacket.

Like everything else with him had gone, it just fell into place. Handshakes turned into hugs, punches on the arm turned into slow, explorative kisses, and nights spent alone turned into nights spent together on my too-small mattress that was actually just the right size for how close I wanted to be to him.

Two years later, and every time I look back I see five million different possible outcomes for those first nights, those first fumbling days. So many ways that we could have just passed like ships in the night, like a human man who had no business knowing a Kryptonian had been trying to court his ex-fiancée. Logic found no haven in our relationship, and for that, I'm eternally grateful. I've had enough to last me a lifetime.

I'm not saying that I believe in destiny.

But I must confess… she's making a damn good case.