Chapter 1: After 1x05 How Does She Do It?
What if Maxwell Lord had a teenage son he did not know about? How does an outside moral compass change his own actions and his interactions with Supergirl? Starts after 1x05 and continues through season 1.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supergirl or any characters from the franchise.
Max stared at them. He was waiting for them to say it was some big joke, but at the same time he knew they wouldn't. In his gut he just knew. "Can—" It came out hoarse. He tried again. "Can I see my son?"
"Of course," the officers said. "He's outside."
They showed him to the same thin teenage boy he had dismissed on the way in. Slouched in the plastic chair, hands thrust into a black faux leather jacket, the brunette hair with frost blonde tips were slicked up and to the side in a kind of wave. A thin silver chain belt hung loose off his hips and his skinny black jeans were tucked into combat boots. He looked like a teenage punk but without all the makeup and piercings.
Maxwell hoped there weren't tattoos under the tight black shirt. And as he drew closer his nose could pick up the faint scent of alcohol.
"Jason," The officer said kindly.
The boy looked up from the top of his boots. Max almost gasped aloud: his facial features were imprinted on this boy from the sharp brows to the present-but-not-too-much cheekbones. The boy, his son's face structure was more angled and long however, and though grief lurked in the depths of those same steel blue eyes, so did clarity.
He said nothing, but took in Max, eyes going up and down and judging. He returned to the officer.
"This is your father, Jason."
Max cleared his throat and stepped forward, hand out. Was he supposed to handshake the son he never knew? It seemed so impersonal, but a hug felt too much for a first meeting. "Hello. I'm Maxwell Lord."
"I know who you are." Jason unfolded his long legs and stood, hands still in his jacket. "Are we going now?"
Max tried not to feel hurt. Jason had just lost his mother; of course he might be a bit terse. "Of course. Let's go home."
The drive was silent, Jason staring out the passenger side window, his face turned mostly away. It was unnerving how still and quiet the boy was. Teenagers were supposed to be rebellious, loud, energetic.
"I'm not sure what they've told you," Max began. "But you don't have to call me dad. Max is fine. Whatever you feel comfortable with. And you don't have to change your name if you don't—"
"I want to," Jason interrupted, still looking outside. "Not really a fan of my last name. Lord is cooler."
A flutter of pleasure quickly burst in Max's gut and then dimmed. His son wanted his name! Even if it was just for the coolness of it. It still made him feel good, like there was a chance of this working out.
Jason's eyes were riveted on the tall penthouse when they pulled into the drive. Max glowed.
"Do you like it?"
"Big place," Jason commented in the same dead tone that he seemed to be stuck on. His eyes told a different story, flicking quickly over the exterior several times and taking in details, particularly noting the valet and bellhop.
"You can pick any room in the house you like."
"Alright."
Max toured him through the penthouse, the four bedrooms (one was the master bedroom), the entertainment room and sunroom and kitchen and study, and stopped again in the foyer. Jason had only responded with monosyllables the whole time. "So which room did you like?"
"The last room we saw."
Max knew the one. It had a four poster bed and a large window offcenterly overlooking the building's front entrance with a seat on the sill. Max's own bedroom was down the hall at the other front corner. "It's yours." Now that that was taken care of, he was at a loss what to do next. "Do you want time to settle in? Dinner is at seven."
Jason shrugged. "Okay."
They stared at each other. Well, Max gazed while Jason looked at nothing in particular.
"Alright. I'll be in my study if you need me."
Jason nodded.
When Max told the chef two for dinner, the assumption was clearly that Max had a guest over and not a teenage boy because she had clearly gone for a feast. There was escargot as an appetizer, duck breast in brandy sauce with truffles and mushrooms as the main course, and a zabaione each for dessert. Served with wine.
He was about to ask for something else for Jason when the boy tossed the entire glass back while sitting at his end of the table.
"Should you be drinking," Max asked in concern.
"My guardian provided it, so it's legal."
With misgivings, Max refilled the glass. This one, Jason sipped at.
Jason ate everything that was put in front of him with the same listless indifference. Luckily the dishes were European portioned so they were small and the fifteen year old did not have to suffer through anything he didn't like.
"How was your day," Max asked and then cringed. Jason didn't even grant that a look up. "I think it's a good idea if you had my phone number," he quickly changed topic.
"Don't have a phone."
Again, Max was taken aback. He was pretty sure at that age teenagers were glued to their devices. "Well that'll be remedied. Do you need anything else? Laptop? Clothes?" He stopped. He might as well get Jason a new wardrobe. Hopefully he'd wear something besides those black leathers. "Why don't I take care of all of that and you can tell me if you need anything else?"
Jason shrugged. They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.
"What did you do this afternoon?"
Another shrug. "Your library."
"Really? Did you find anything you like?" There weren't any lower level books; all of them were theories and papers and books about higher level science and engineering subjects.
"You have a lot of engineering books," he said redundantly.
Jason dressed in the same clothes as the day before; they hadn't gone back to his apartment to pick up more. The clock proclaimed 9:38am. He slipped to the dining room for breakfast.
Maxwell was at the glass dining table working with some large blueprint papers when Jason walked in.
"Good morning, Jason. Did you sleep well?"
"Yes."
The chef brought out breakfast. A more reasonable eggs and toast with orange juice.
"This is yours. I've already put my number in it. You can put a password on if you want, and I've set it so you can see my location in case you ever need or want to know where I am."
Jason picked up the phone and turned it over. LordTech.
"Here's some spending cash, and this credit card is connected to my accounts. I've had the laptop and clothes put in your room. If you need any help, please feel free to ask." Jason nodded. "And I was thinking we could go out for a bit after lunch. Walk around. Get to know each other." Jason nodded and finished the last of his breakfast. He sat back and waited for Max to finish.
Max was clearly hoping for more but didn't push it. "Just leave the plate if you're done. Lunch is at one today."
Jason went up to his room and opened the powerful LordTech laptop. He immediately started looking more in-depth into Maxwell Lord's history and—through the company servers—his work.
It was how he found another user accessing LordTech files. The user was shadowy but skilled and kept mostly to standard technique; a government agency, probably. One that did a great job covering its tracks and was found solely because Jason was looking for inconsistencies and problems in the high-security servers. The agency only managed past the first two levels of LordTech's security—enough to access and monitor who scanned in and out of the building and when. It also searched through the files on a consistent timetable—a program someone left running in the hopes it would pick up something good; it also meant he could always get into this super secret organization as long as this program was left up.
He grinned and set a Trojan hidden into the system with a worm of his creation he liked to call Endeavor. Hopefully he'd learn more about this shady user soon.
So this is my first publishing. There wasn't enough Maxwell Lord fics for my tastes so I wrote one myself. Deviant Direction obviously starts when Max is already at the police station after he was told he had a son he never met and he has sole custody after Jason's mother died. There will be more background on that in this story and in a vignette collection that will be posted later.
Deviant Direction parallels the season episodes until about episode 12, Bizzaro, where it then deviates and becomes more storylike.
Thanks for reading!