A/N: I'm posting Chapters 4 & 5 today—simply because I feel like it. ;)
Chapter 4: Asking For Guidance
Kal-El stood alone at the rooftop of the Daily Planet until the sky grew dark. He was replaying in his mind the heartbreaking conversation he just had with Lois.
"You missed your chance. You missed your chance to be his father five years ago. You took away my memories, I'm taking away your son. Goodbye, Kal-El."
Lois' words stabbed his heart deeper than the kryptonite shard had done on his side. He wiped the last few tears he shed for Lois and Jason, and zoomed into the night sky. He had only one destination: home.
Kal-El landed in the cornfield, and walked a few meters north until he reached the run-down two-floor house at the edge of the farm. There was light in the kitchen, and one quick scan with his x-ray vision revealed that there was only a woman inside the house. He didn't bother to knock on the door, but instead let himself into the house and went straight to the kitchen. He watched the lone woman sitting at the dinner table. She was seated with her back facing him.
"Ma?" he said.
"Clark." It was a statement, not a question. Call it a mother's intuition; somehow, she knew he was there. She stood up and turned to her son. She was surprised to find him looking anguished and torn. It was not like her son to look so defeated.
"Mom." That was all he could say.
Martha Kent may not have been Kal-El's biological mother, but she raised him and knew him more than anyone else did. And right now, she knew he needed her. She walked towards her son and embraced him.
Feeling his mother's loving arms around him, Kal-El finally broke down. He cried hard as she continued to rub his back, trying to calm him down. For a few minutes, they just stood there like that, with Martha comforting her son and with Kal-El letting all the pain he felt flow with his tears. When he stopped, Martha looked at him lovingly. "Why don't you go and freshen up first, dear? Then we can talk. I'll wait for you here," she said, smiling at her son.
Kal-El smiled back weakly. He kissed his mother on the forehead and muttered, "Thanks, Ma," before going to the shower.
Martha looked at the old wall clock in the kitchen cupboard. It was just a little past midnight. She had woken up with a feeling of anxiety just a few minutes before her son arrived. Right then and there, she knew something happened to Clark, but she didn't expect to find him so distraught. Whatever is bothering Clark must be very grave for him to be so upset, she thought to herself. She worried about her son, and wondered what might be troubling him so.
Clark was dressed in jeans and a white shirt when he went back down to the kitchen twenty minutes later. He found his mother pouring hot chocolate onto a cup on the table. There was also a plate of chocolate chip cookies.
Martha gazed up at her son. "I know you're too old for cookies and hot chocolate, but I figured you might want to have some, anyway."
Clark smiled. Hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies. He remembered how, years and years ago, he and Martha would talk about things that troubled him while they snacked on hot chocolate and cookies. Before, Clark would tell Martha of how the children at school teased him about his glasses, or how most of his high school classmates picked on him and bullied him. Today, though, it was about something totally different—his problem didn't just involve him, it involved Lois and their son. Their son. Oh God, how was he going to explain his five-year-old born-out-of-wedlock son to his strict, traditional mother?
Martha sat at the table, and Clark sat beside her, grabbing a cookie and taking a bite. "I've forgotten how good your cookies tasted, Ma." He smiled at the elderly woman.
"Please don't tell me you just flew all the way out here and cried on my shoulder for God knows how long just because you missed these cookies," Martha playfully told her son.
Clark looked at his mother. She always knew how to comfort him when he needed her. "I guess I have to get this out of my chest now. I still have to get back to Metropolis in time for work, and I know you need your sleep."
"Oh, Clark, don't worry about my sleep. But please, do tell me what made you so upset."
He didn't know where to begin. Taking a deep breath, he began, "Lois and I talked this evening."
His mother only nodded, not wanting to disrupt him.
"I-I told her what I did—the memory wipe. She...didn't take it well, to say the least." He let out a sigh. He thought it would not be painful to tell his mother what happened, but he was wrong. Reliving what happened felt as bad as the actual moments. He continued on to how he explained to Lois why he did it, and how Lois reacted to it all. He left out the part about Jason—that was a matter that needed to be discussed solely. Then he paused.
Martha looked at her son. She knew he loved Lois Lane since he first laid eyes on her. Lois was all he ever talked about when he came home for a visit. It pained her to see him so broken-hearted. But she knew he was also responsible for what he did. "Well, I'd be surprised if she let you off the hook easily."
"What?"
"If she forgave you instantly right after, I would've doubted her emotions. Sorry to say, dear, but she had every right to be angry at you."
"Mom, I told her I was sorry," reasoned Clark. "I was practically begging her for forgiveness."
"I know, dear, but begging wasn't what she wanted. More than anything, she wanted her memories. You took that away from her. You didn't even ask her—"
Clark cut her off. "She would've said no."
"She would have, but wouldn't that have meant something to you and your relationship? That she was willing to sacrifice her happiness to have you in her life?"
"No one should sacrifice something like that. It's like sacrificing yourself."
"This coming from the man who lifted a kryptonite-filled island into space at the expense of his life."
Clark smiled at his mother. "Ouch."
Martha let out a chuckle and reached out for his hand at the edge of the table. "I know you're sorry for what you did to her, Clark. And I know you're sorry for hurting her."
"I just wish there was something I could do—"
It was Martha's turn to cut him in mid-sentence. "Clark Joseph Kent, you may be Superman but you're still not a god. You have to understand that there are some things that you can't do. Let time heal her wounds. Give her some time, some space—if she is as smart a lady as you say she is, she'd understand what you did and grant you forgiveness. For now, all you can do is wait."
Clark nodded. He trusted his mother's judgment, and if she thinks Lois needs time to heal, then he would give Lois time.
"There's something else on your mind, Clark." Martha's statement broke his thoughts.
"What, Ma? Sorry."
"There's something else you on your mind. I can see it in your eyes, there's something you want to tell me. So tell me."
Clark braced himself—he knew Martha Kent was a sweet old lady who never really raised her voice at anybody, but as a kid, he'd been on the receiving end of one of her loud chastising quite a few times. And he knew that his next statement would make him deserving of a few old, Midwestern cussing.
"Mom," he said. "Loisendayhavason."
Martha looked puzzled at her boy. She had no idea what he just blurted out. She knew her son was a shy boy, but he had never kept anything from her. She and her husband Jonathan were the only people who managed to get more than two sentences out of Clark when he was younger.
"Clark, I have no idea what you just said."
Clark looked at her helplessly, fidgeting with a chocolate chip cookie in his hand. He bowed his head.
Martha couldn't help but smile. No matter how old her son got, he was still her little boy. She remembered the last time Clark had been this nervous to tell her about something he did. He was about ten years old, and he entered the house after going out to the barn. When she asked him what happened, he bowed his head and showed her what appeared to be the handle bar of the new bicycle she and Jonathan had given him. "I didn't mean to break my bike, Momma," he muttered before running to Martha's arms and began sobbing. He had just been getting control over his newfound strength then, and Martha calmed him down by telling him she understood. Looking at his son now, she wondered Clark did this time.
"Clark?"
With his head still bowed, he mumbled, just clear enough for his mother to understand, "Lois and I have a son."
The silence that followed was unexpected. Clark was waiting for Martha to say how irresponsible he was and how his father would've been disappointed by his behavior. He waited for her to tell him that he was raised better and he knew better. But none of those words escaped the lips of Martha Kent. Instead, Clark felt his mother's hand on his chin, and she lifted his face so that he was looking at her. Clark gulped and asked, "I'm sorry. Are you mad?"
Martha smiled lovingly at her boy. "No, I'm not. A little disappointed and very surprised, yes, but not mad." She kissed his forehead and ran a hand through his thick, jet-black hair. "You're a father now, Clark."
Her words touched him deeply, but at the same time, he felt a pang in his heart. "I am, but Lois doesn't want me to be."
Clark looked at her mother, the sadness in his eyes evident. "Lois doesn't want me anywhere near him. She said because I took her memories, she's taking my son from me."
"You do understand it was her pain speaking, right? I know it was harsh to take the boy away from you, but don't be angry at her for that, dear. She made a decision she was in no condition to make. She's angry and torn and feeling betrayed, and those emotions clouded her judgment."
Clark was quiet. He was thinking about what his mother just said.
Martha looked at her son. She knew how much he wanted this—a life, a family. Not knowing what to say, and seeing how Clark was so upset already, she just asked, "So, what is my grandson like?"
Her question seemed to cheer up her son. His eyes twinkled as he began to talk about the five-year-old boy. "His name is Jason, and he's wonderful, Ma. He's really smart, and he loves to draw—whenever he's at the office, he comes to my desk, because he knows I've got colored pens and crayons and papers for him. He loves Superman, he always draws Superman for me. He's funny, he lights up the whole office with his smile. I can't believe it, Ma; I have a beautiful little boy. I'm not alone anymore."
Clark went on to tell Martha of stories about Jason as they helped themselves to hot chocolate and cookies. Martha could see just how much her boy loved Jason. She wished Clark could find a way to be a father to his son.
It was almost four o'clock in the morning when Clark and Martha finished their talk. Clark dressed up in his Superman suit and went out of the house, where Martha sat on the porch waiting for him. "Thank you, Ma. I knew I could always count on you."
"Don't think you can get off that easily, Clark," Martha said. "I may not have told you off for getting an unwed girl pregnant, but don't think you're not in trouble anymore."
"Sorry, Ma," he mumbled. It was such a sight to see, Superman being scolded by his mother in the front porch of their house.
"Bring my grandson here and you're clear of all charges," Martha joked.
"I'll try, Ma," Clark had to laugh at that. After kissing his mother goodbye, he took off and headed towards Metropolis.
A/N: Yeah, I know this chapter doesn't have much in it. It's like one of those scenes that just end up in the deleted scenes features of a movie. Haha. Still, it's nice to get a glimpse of the mother-and-son bonding Martha and Clark share.
By the way, thank you once again to everyone who has given their reviews—it's good to know that people are enjoying the story so far. Keep 'em comin'. But if you don't have time to submit one, no problemo. Thanks still for reading "A Father, First." :)
