A month after the funeral, Richard went back to London. He had been there since before mom had gotten sick; he had a life and a job there now, so he had to go back, but he didn't take me with him. He told me that I should stay here, in Metropolis, because that was where my mother had intended me to be.
So I stayed. Clark took me in as my official guardian, and we lived together in a loft a few minutes from the Planet. We sold the house on Riverside Drive. Clark had asked me if I wanted to live in my own house or a new one. When I chose to live in a new place, I think Clark had secretly rejoiced inside. He loved my mother, I know that now, but he loved her so much that even seeing the slightest trace of her inside the Riverside house made him cry.
Years passed. Clark continued to work for the Daily Planet, even though so many things had changed. I went through my three years of middle school with no signs of my powers, and then skipped ninth grade, going straight to tenth. That was when super-strength kicked in. Super-hearing wouldn't kick in until I was a junior, and I wouldn't fly until I was a freshman in college. Even then, I couldn't stay in the air for long. Clark said it had something to do with my being only half Kryptonian.
Anyway, music was my true passion in high school, though I did become editor of the school newspaper by eleventh grade. Though, being involved in the paper was almost obligatory. I felt that I had a duty to my mother and Richard and Clark to become a journalist. But, music was my true passion.
I graduated at the age of twenty-two from Metropolis University with a Bachelor's degree in music, and a minor in journalism. After college, I pursued my dreams of playing the piano professionally, but in the end, it wasn't paying me enough money. I had moved out of Clark's loft when I had gone to college, and when I came back, I bought my own apartment on the other side of town. Nothing against Clark, but he was suffocating me. For so long, I had blamed him for the death of my mother, how he couldn't save her, though I knew it wasn't his fault. We never really worked that out. I needed to branch out, so I did.
Finally, at the age of twenty-four, I decided to put my journalism minor to work. I applied for work to about twenty offices in my area. Two answered the call. One was the Daily Planet. Interesting how things work out, isn't it? I was half in mind to ignore the editor, Richard's Uncle Perry, and move to another state to find something else. I decided to talk to Clark about it that weekend, when we usually had our 'family' dinners. We met at his place once a week, usually on weekends, for dinner.
That weekend, when I arrived at his loft, he was cooking. That was never a good sign. That meant he had burned the pizza while heating it up, or ruined the Chinese take-out somehow. It was amazing to me how the Man of Steel couldn't even heat up Chinese food.
"Clark...?"
The six-foot-four man turned around to face me from the stove. He had on a white long-sleeve button-down shirt, khakis, a full apron that said, 'Kiss the Cook', and two huge oven mitts. "Jason!" He said cheerfully, turning back to the stove. "You're a bit early. Sorry, but the food isn't ready yet."
I frowned. "Clark... Why on Earth are you cooking? I thought tonight was Chinese." we had developed a schedule in the past few months I had been home. Pizza, Chinese, Indian, Indo-Chinese, and barbeque. Not once had we broken our routine. Not once. But now he was cooking? Something was smelling foul, but it wasn't Clark's cooking, for once.
He stopped cooking and looked at me with his deer-caught-in-the-headlights look and adjusted his thick, black-rimmed glasses that seemed to imprison his true-blue eyes(which, of course, he didn't actually require). It was a nervous habit that he had done ever since he had known my mother.
I cocked an eyebrow and folded my arms. "What's up?" I demanded, staring him down.
The other man sighed and turned off the stove, letting his arms hang loosely by his side. "Guess I can't keep anything from you anymore, can I?"
I laughed. "Clark, you never could keep anything from me. I figured out that you were Superman when I was five, remember?"
He chuckled slightly, nodding. "I remember. You were—"
"Nope." I stopped him. "You're not getting out of this one. Tell me why we're not following our age-old schedule and why you're cooking."
Clark sighed again. "All right..." he began twiddling his thumbs. "Well... I got a call from Perry today—"
I cut him off because I knew what he was going to say. "I'm not even sure if I want the job," I said quietly.
That stopped him. He nodded. "I figured that's what you would say."
I frowned at him. "You think I should take the job?"
He shook his head. "That's not what I'm saying, Jason. It's your choice, of course."
I sighed and sat on the navy-blue corduroy couch. "It would be weird, you know?" I told him, staring at the glass vase of orchids on the oak coffee table. "Going to work where she did, I mean."
Clark nodded, taking off his apron and sitting next to me. "I know. It's been thirteen years, and I can't even bring myself to look at her desk." He paused. "I loved her."
I turned my blue, blue gaze to the man next to me. "I know," I told him. "I loved her, too." I took in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before finally releasing it. "I'm taking the job."
The look on Clark's face as I stood will stay with me forever as one of the funniest things I have ever seen. It was a cross between puzzlement, astonishment, amazement, and pride all at once. He looked away and blinked a few times before nodding and standing, as well.
I finished cooking that night. Somehow, Clark had managed to make tofu lasagna dessert, complete with a crapload of sugar. We ended up just ordering our Chinese take-out.
As I left that night, I quickly summarized my future phone conversation with Perry White that I would have the next day. It was full of heart-warming phrases from Mr. White, and absolutely nothing but 'Yessir' and 'No, sir' from me.
Needless to say, the editor of the Daily Planet would have very different plans for me. Our first meeting, for example, was face-to-face in his office. Just the two of us. Phone conversation, my ass.
guys, i am SOOOOOOOOO sorry that it's taken me SOOOOOOOOOOOO long to post this chappie. i promise that i'm doing the best i can. school started up for me, and i'm in a musical, and classes are just sheer torture. sorry about the long wait period, and please don't scold me for it. i'm trying my best, really, i am.
i hope you enjoyed this chapter. i thought i'd try to make jason just a little bit more light-hearted. please R&R!
