Ch. 11

The sun was setting later these days. Clark still liked to watch it from his loft. It was the one consistency in his life. It was the one thing that didn't judge him or expect anything from him. It didn't need to be explained. It simply existed.

"I am surprised I caught you alone."

Clark looked towards the stairs to see William walking up.

"I come up here sometimes. I haven't been up here in a while."

"Clark, why doesn't your father want us to be alone?"

He didn't know why frankness always surprised him. He was so used to playing games, he wasn't sure how to deal with honesty. "What makes you say he doesn't want us to be alone?"

"I'm old, Clark, but I'm not deaf yet. I hear things—like your father telling Martha, 'I don't want Clark to be alone with him.'"

Clark would have denied the conversation, but he had heard it, too. He was tired of lying to people he cared about. Of course, that was what his dad was scared of. "There're just a lot of issues…"

"I gathered."

"So you want to talk about the Valentine's Dance," Clark changed the subject.

"You taking your girlfriend?" Clark looked dubious. "The reporter from the Torch?"

"Chloe's not my girlfriend."

"Well, you never know."

"I've known her since I was 13."

"A whole—what? 4 years now?"

"Five." William smiled. "Well, five-ish. Look, it doesn't really matter."

"Of course it does. You brought it up."

"I didn't bring Chloe up."

"But you brought up the dance. My guess is to avoid a bigger issue." Clark grew uneasy. He had tried so hard not to get attached to his grandfather. He knew what it meant to get attached to someone and then have to lie to him. "Clark, I have a question." Clark rolled his eyes. When will this stop… "I have read a lot of newspapers since I've been here. Your mother won't let me do anything else. Did you know your town library keeps all the newspapers and files them?"

Our town has a library… "No, but that's not really a question."

William smiled. "And they let people read them. Any one. And they even have the content on computers for an easy search." Clark squirmed a little. He didn't want to think about where this was going. "Well, I typed the name Kent in, and do you know how many hits I received?"

Clark was scared to answer. "I could guess."

"Seventy-five. Either you or your father, or in some cases your mother have been involved in seventy-five different investigations."

"That's… informative."

"Clark—whatever is going on with you- with this family—I want to know. I only have a little time left. I want to spend it being a family. I want to be a part of this life." He looked at Clark with the most serious face Clark had ever seen on a person. "Please don't take this away from me."

Clark took a step back. "Well it is Smallville, Granddad. There aren't a lot of places to go. I mean, chances are I'd end up in one of the four streets our town has during a crime." Clark realized he was smiling and stopped. He always did that—tried to lighten the mood during a serious conversation, hoping to make it sound less than it was. But he didn't have to do that anymore. This man was family. He was Clark's ancestor. Not by blood, but that didn't matter. He was still a part of Martha, and Martha was a part of Clark. For as long as he could remember he had been wishing to tell someone his secret. Now he could, and it would be okay.

Clark tried his conversation again. "Actually, that's not true." He tried to gather his thoughts. Going right out and saying, "I'm from another planet" might not be taken as well as he would like it to. He had to find a way to prepare him for what he was about to say. "Grandfather—it is my fault that you weren't a part of this family…"

"You seem to think a lot of things are your fault, Son."

"That's because they are. Granddad—my parents didn't adopt me from Metropolis…"

"Clark!"

Clark was shocked to see his mother behind him. "Do you guys just know every time when I'm about to tell someone?"

Martha mimicked her son's conversation. "Well it is Smallville, Clark—there aren't a lot of places to go."

"Mom…"

Martha suddenly sounded very much like a mom protecting her son's life. "No, Clark—I know you think this will all work out, but you don't know my dad like I do! He would not be as accepting as you would like…"

"Or maybe you and Dad just haven't given him the chance."

"We did what we thought was right—what was the safest for you." Martha shot back.

"Well you were wrong!"

"He's my father—I think I'd know a little bit more about this than you."

"Really? Because I've just spent the couple of weeks with him, Mom—you haven't had one meaningful conversation with him in 20 years!" Clark calmed himself. "People change, Mom."

William spoke up. "Okay, that's it—Martha, I am still your father. Stop treating me as if I were an adolescent. Now I may not know all of the details, but the more I've gotten to know Clark the more I've cared about him. Whatever it is you're hiding—whatever it is—nothing can change how I feel about him. Because he's your son, and you're my daughter. And I'm dying—and I just wanted a chance to get to know the person who will pass on a part of me in this world before I pass on."

"You don't know that." Martha couldn't contain her tears anymore. "You don't know you're going to die—they could find a cure tomorrow, and then what would all of this be for?"

"Martha—" William softened and grabbed her shoulders. "I am dying."

Martha looked down, trying to regain her composure. She was finally strong enough. "Clark—go into the house." Clark looked at her confused. "Just go!" William motioned for him to obey her, so he did as his mother asked. She didn't, however, tell him not to eavesdrop from the house. For the first time in a while he was glad he had powers.

William started again. "I just want to reconnect with my family before I die."

Martha sounded very angry. "You don't know anything about my son. You don't know what he's had to go through—what he will have to go through. He doesn't need anyone else coming into his life and complicating it. He doesn't need someone else abandoning him or turning against him—especially not some not someone he cares about." Martha started to walk towards the house herself, but stopped when she heard her father's voice.

"I will never abandon this family again."

Martha turned around. "Just please—I have to do what's best for my child."

"As I've always just wanted what's best for mine." William stepped up to her. "I have nothing against Jonathon as a person—I just always hoped that you would be taken care of."

Now she really was mad. "Jonathon takes care of me every day. And you know, I take care of him, too. I don't need to be supported in everything—I can do things on my own."

"Your family's needs haven't escaped my attention, Martha. I am aware of the debt the farm is in, and Clark's disappearance two summers in a row, as well as Jonathon's heart condition."

Martha looked shocked. "Who told you that?"

"I have connections—did you not think I'd use them to make sure my only daughter was still alive every once in a while?"

"Some things in our house are just private…"

William couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask it. "Did you kidnap Clark?"

That shocked her even more. "What?"

"Did you kidnap Clark? Is that the big secret? Because if you are worried about me getting the police involved and taking him away, I don't want to do that. I certainly wouldn't approve of your actions, but I want to spend what time I have among family."

Martha wasn't sure what to say to that. Frankly, she was a little offended. "We didn't kidnap Clark, Dad."

"Is his adoption legal?"

Now it seemed like he was prying. "Shouldn't you know? You seem to have tabs on us all, and you're a lawyer!"

"Whatever it is, Martha—just tell me. It will be okay."

Martha paused for a moment. How she wanted to tell her dad—for it to really be okay. She couldn't count all the times in the summer when Clark was gone and Jonathon was in a comma and all she wanted was to be held by her dad. She wanted him to make it okay—that's what parents were supposed to do. But she was a parent now, too. "No one breaks the law in this house."

"Of course not—Clark actually upholds the law in one of the four downtown streets." William was a lawyer—he knew when things weren't adding up. He was hoping for some kind of reaction that would give him clues into what the big deal with Clark was. But Martha just stood there, her face unreadable. She was good at that by now.

"I'm going in the house." And she did, leaving her father with no clues but an added suspicion on what exactly was going on in the Kent house.