AN: This chapter is HUGE! I normally don't like to put out such large chapters, but I couldn't find a natural divide for it and I certainly couldn't cut out any of what Jason had to say. I feel it's all very important, and I hope you get the full sense of just how miserable he is.

Many thanks to htbthomas and Hellish Red Devil for reading through this monster and finding all my mistakes. They deserve some kind of a reward for telling me this chapter didn't seem long at all! LOL!

And again, thank you to everyone who was so kind to leave a review. For those of you tat are repeat reviewers, I know your names and I've been trying to contact you to let you know how much it means to me that you keep coming back for more. I'm not done yet. Believe it or not, Jason still has stuff to say after this. Kate will have more questions…and I simply must have a real show down between Jason and his father. What's a Superman fic without much Superman? Chapter seven is in the hands of the betas, so it shouldn't be long until it's posted. I hope this chapter tides you over for a while.

Chapter Six

Seven hours later, as I stood outside of Kate's bedroom watching her sleep, I fought with myself about what I should do next. The trip to the hospital had been a fairly short one in distance; it only took about fifteen minutes, yet they were the longest fifteen minutes of my life. We sat in silence most of the time, her eyes darting to glance at me in curiosity only to quickly shift to look out the window when I caught her glance. I could feel the anger coming from her like heat waves, and I knew she was entirely justified in feeling that way.

She only spoke when she saw the sign for the hospital. We checked her into the emergency room and after a very tense and uncomfortable wait, she was taken in a wheelchair back to have her foot examined. I offered to go with her, wanting to be supportive. After all, I still loved her and was worried about her. I wanted to make sure she was taken care of. However, she said she would be fine without me.

Those words stung.

I heard what she was too polite to say - she would be fine without me, both in the hospital and in everyday life. I knew that her words were only a precursor to what would come in the future. She wouldn't want me around – the freak of nature – the half man, half alien. And then I'd be left alone to face the reality of my existence without her.

It had taken several hours at the hospital for them to X-ray her foot, examine the damage, and wrap her ankle in the necessary casting material to help heal her broken bones. I waited anxiously in the lobby until they wheeled her out with her discharge paperwork. She was slightly loopy, not making total sense when she spoke, for they had given her a sedative to help with the pain. Thank God for that because she slept the whole trip back to Metropolis. Now, back in her apartment, I had carefully placed her on the bed where she remained sound asleep.

We had been home for over an hour when her eyes fluttered open in confusion. She glanced around her room, squinting into the semi-darkness as if looking for something. "Jason?"

I was pleasantly surprised to hear her ask for me, for I thought she might not like the idea of me hanging around after everything that had happened today. "I'm right here," I answered, stepping into the room.

"What happened? How did we get home?"

"We drove," I said, knowing that she was probably wondering if I had done anything superhuman to get her home. "They gave you some painkillers and it knocked you right out. You slept all the way home."

"Oh, thanks."

"It was no trouble."

"How long have I been out?"

"A while. We've been home for about an hour."

She stared at me with that sad face that expressed how very confused she still was. "You're still here." It wasn't a question.

"I thought it would be rude if I left you here. I wanted to make sure you were okay – that you had everything that you needed before I—"

"Before you…what?"

I shrugged, unable to form the word. "Are you hungry?" I asked after a moment. "There are sandwiches left from the picnic. Or I could make you some tea."

"I need a beer. No, I need some hard liquor."

I pursed my lips. "I don't think that would be such a good idea, considering all the drugs in your system right now."

"Well, sorry, not everyone is impervious to pain."

I didn't snap back. I would let her say whatever she needed to say. I deserved whatever she wanted to toss at me. "Do you want me to go?"

"I don't know, Jason. Do you want to go?"

"No," I replied without hesitation. "But I don't want to stay if it will upset you."

"I'm going to be upset whether you stay or whether you leave."

I sighed. I couldn't keep this up much longer. "You haven't eaten all day. I'll go get you some water and something to eat. Then we can talk."

"Talk?"

"Yes."

"About what?"

"About… this."

"Really? Whatever I want to know, you'll tell me?"

"Yes." I cringed inwardly, not really ready to let anyone, not even Kate, know how very messed up my life was, but it was the only way to mend the damage already done. "But you need to eat something first."

She nodded. "Okay."

I headed to the kitchen and fixed her a plate of fruit and half a sandwich. Knowing that she enjoyed hot tea, I put the kettle on the stove and stepped out onto her patio to wait for the water to boil. To my surprise, or rather, frustration, a streak of red and blue flashed in the sky.

I groaned and slouched over the railing. "I saw you, so there's no need to pretend you aren't listening." I didn't say it very loudly, for he had better hearing than I did.

The wind whipped and suddenly he was standing next to me.

"What do you want?" I asked bitterly.

"I wanted to see how Kate was doing."

"How do you think she's doing? She's got a broken ankle and she found out she's been dating an alien. That's a lot to take in for one day."

He looked away from me, staring out into the sky. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that."

"What? The truth? I thought that's what you stood for."

He didn't respond to my snide comment. Instead, he said, "Then I take it you told her."

I nearly laughed. "I didn't have much of a choice." I sneered at him. "'I know Jason through his mother.' Real nice description there."

"Given the circumstances, I didn't think you would appreciate me getting any more specific."

"Since when have you ever been specific?"

The teakettle sounded, bringing the conversation to a sudden and abrupt halt. "I have to go," I said, heading back inside the apartment. "Don't worry about Kate. She'll be fine. And don't worry about me, either. I'll be fine."

"That's impossible, Jason. I always worry about you."

I didn't want to hear it. "Whatever," I groaned and slid the balcony door shut firmly. Yet I couldn't help but consider how I'd just told him I would be fine without him… the same thing Kate had said to me earlier. My stomach tensed is response.

I fixed up a tray of the food and tea and carried it into Kate's bedroom to find her sitting propped up in bed with a frown on her face. That wasn't a good sign.

"Where should I put this?" I asked, hoping that I could avoid the promised question and answer session.

"Who were you talking to?"

I shrugged and moved some books on the bedside table to set down the tray.

"You were talking to someone."

I ignored her. "You better drink this while it's still warm."

"Jason, I may not have supersonic hearing, but I can hear well enough to distinguish the fact that there were two voices coming from the other room. Now who were you talking to?" she demanded.

I crossed my arms in front of me. "Who do you think?"

"Superman?"

I nodded.

"What did he want?" she asked, nonplused.

"To make sure you were okay."

Her brows furrowed. "Does he normally check up on the people he's rescued, or is that just a privilege given to the women who are sleeping with-?"

"Stop it," I snapped.

"I'm just asking. I've never read anything about him making house calls."

"Look, I know it's creepy that he watches people, but he was just checking on you."

"Like father, like son."

"Will you just stop that?" I barked.

"Stop what?"

"Comparing me to him! I'm not like him!"

"All evidence to the contrary."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Just that you do share a lot of similarities."

This was the last thing I wanted to hear from her, but she kept at it, picking at a sore wound that had never healed properly.

"You're strong like him. You have X-ray vision. The shape of your body is like his, too. I mean, I don't know how stupid I could have been to miss it, but you don't even work out! Hell, even your eyes are the same color as his."

"Just stop it, Kate!"

"I'm only pointing out the similarities."

"There aren't any similarities!" I was fast reaching my breaking point. "I'm not him! I'll never be like him!"

"I never said that. Who says you have to be like him?"

"He says it!" She blinked, and before she could even ask the next question, I was blurting out the answer. "It's in the way he looks at me. So disappointed that I can't be like him. Like the way you look at me for being too much like him. I don't know which one is worse."

"I don't look at you that way."

"Yes, you do, Kate. You're doing it right now. As if you don't know what to make of me or how to treat me. That you are waiting for this day to end so you never have to see me again."

"And why would I never want to see you again?"

I tutted. "I don't know. Maybe because you're wishing you never even met me."

"Oh, so you're a mind reader now?"

"No, but it doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"Well, I have news for you," she said, her voice edgy and piercing. "In spite of the fact that you've kept your entire history a secret from me, I have enjoyed every minute I've spent with you. I wasn't lying when I said that I loved you."

I didn't appreciate the implication there. "And you think I was lying when I said I loved you?"

"You have been lying to me every day we've been together. If you really loved me, you would have trusted me with this."

"Yeah, that would have gone over really well," I scoffed. "That's the perfect way to get a second date. 'I had a really great time tonight. Maybe we can do it again sometime. And by the way…I'm not human!'"

She made a face at me. "You wouldn't have to say it like that!"

"I suppose you have a better way to tell someone you're an alien?"

"You're not an alien, Jason."

"Oh, I'm not?" That was news to me.

"Well, I mean…" She was flustered trying to make sense of it all. "Your mother's human, right?"

"But that's doesn't make me human. At least, not human enough. I'm not human enough to pass as normal, but I'm not Kryptonian enough either. Now you see my dilemma. It's like you said in the car, Kate. There's human and there's Kryptonian. You can't be both!"

"Okay, so I was wrong. You are both."

"No, I'm not! I'm stuck somewhere in the middle, trying to figure out just what I'm supposed to do with this freakish existence I've been forced into. And I'm not getting much help with it!"

"All right!" She threw up her hands in defense. "I get it now. I see your point. You're confused over who you are. But Jason, every person who has ever lived has gone through some kind of a search for their own identity – to answer the age-old question – who am I and where do I fit in this world?"

I closed my eyes slowly, shaking my head. "You don't get it."

"What don't I get?"

"Forget it, Kate. You will never understand this."

"No, I won't, because you won't explain it to me!" she shouted.

Something snapped in my brain in that moment and the floodgates were opened. "You want an explanation?"

"Yes."

I took a step closer to the bed. "You want to know all the nitty-gritty about this mess I call a life?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation.

"You want all the details about my damaged childhood so you can ramble off some psycho-babble and try to fix it to make it better?"

She sneered at me. "Actually, I think you could use a little psycho-babble right about now."

I laughed. "Believe me, Kate, you don't have a band-aid big enough to fix this mess."

"Try me," she said in all seriousness.

If she wanted to play, then I was game. "You want me to lie down on the couch, Dr. Freud? Or can I just stand?"

"Whatever makes you feel comfortable."

I snorted. "I haven't been comfortable a day in my life."

I looked at Kate, sitting there listening attentively, waiting for me to go on, and I considered leaving, running out of the room and never looking back. But I remembered the promise I had made to myself that I wouldn't run away from her. If she wanted this, then she was going to get it. She asked for it.

"I spent the first years of my life in and out of hospitals, being poked and prodded and examined. Blood tests, X-rays, CAT scans, MRIs--you name it, I've had it done to me, all in the hopeless attempt to figure out what was wrong with me. I've taken every kind of medication under the sun for all sorts of diseases that I've never had just to see if anything would make me better. All those years I thought I was some sort of freak who would always be sick no matter what I did. There was never any explanation for why the medicine didn't work properly – or why they found such abnormalities in my blood. Oh, I get it now! They weren't testing for alien mutations, so how could they have known!"

"Well, why didn't your mother say something?"

I laughed. "Good question, and the answer is even better." I looked at her suddenly, entirely straight-faced. "Because she didn't know."

She frowned. "She didn't know…that you were…"

"Half Kryptonian?" I finished for her. "No. She didn't."

Kate's face screwed up in total confusion. "How could she not know? I mean…Wouldn't she…or didn't they…"

"Oh, they did," I nodded grimly. "But you see, the way it was explained to me was that it was all too much for her and she was on the verge of some kind of mental breakdown. I don't understand it really, but the long and short of it is that he took her memory of it away."

She blinked. "How?"

I shrugged.

"You're saying she…forgot?" When I answered with a nod, Kate repeated herself. "She forgot? How do you forget something like that?"

"I don't know, Kate, but the point is that he didn't want her to know. He didn't want her to remember. And regardless of what was right or what she wanted, he made a decision that ended up screwing up my whole life."

"But other than the hospitals and whatnot, you had a pretty decent childhood, right?"

"Oh, my mom and dad were great. They hovered over me, worried and scared that I might drop dead any moment from eating the wrong food or breathing contaminated air. They should have just put me in a bubble."

"So when did you…find out?"

I huffed. "Not for a long time, actually, which only made it worse. I always knew I was sick – that there was something wrong with me – but then I started doing all these crazy things. I had no idea how I was doing these things or when they would happen, but every now and then I would prove that I was an even bigger freak than I thought I was. My mother, she would witness some of these things, and she would give me that look, like the one you gave me earlier, to let me know I wasn't normal. But she never scolded me for them or tried to explain them. It was just something that happened and we ignored it and went on with our lives."

I smiled mockingly and started in with the heart of the story. "Now, every now and then, Superman would come around. And you have to understand that growing up in Metropolis as the son of the reporter who knew Superman best – wink, wink, nudge, nudge – I was totally and completely amazed by him. And I felt so very special that he would stop to pay that little bit of attention to me. As I got older, I started to think to myself, 'Hey! All these weird things I can do…Superman can do things like that, and nobody thinks he's weird. So maybe someday, if I work hard enough, maybe someday I can grow up to be like him.'" I didn't even try to mask the bitterness in my voice.

"I was about ten years old when the superhearing kicked in," I snickered, "making it almost impossible for me to concentrate on anything. My grades at school were failing. Kids that I thought were my friends were treating me like crap. The only thing that seemed to drown out all the other noises was music. So I engulfed myself in the piano…only to be made fun of even more. I mean, what kind of kid, who can throw a ball farther than any other kid in the school, doesn't want to play sports and would rather sit behind a piano all day? I didn't have any friends, which meant that I spent all my evenings at home, and that was fine with me. It was quiet at home. The only people I had to worry about hearing were my mom and dad. Which is ironic.

"I guess they didn't think I could hear them. I mean, they knew I could hear them, but for some reason they didn't stop to think that I'd be listening and actually paying attention to the conversations they had about me in their bedroom while I was busy playing the piano. I was almost eleven when I heard my dad tell my mom that he thought it was time I knew the truth – that I wasn't really his son. They were fighting about it, and Mom was crying. Now, Mom hardly ever cries, so I knew he wasn't lying. But I still had to confront her about it. I asked her right then and there if it was true. She told me it was…and that she was sorry for not telling me sooner."

I was pacing the floor now, the anger and frustration I'd held inside for so many years boiling at the surface, ready to break out in all its fury. Kate stayed silent, letting me continue with my rant while she listened and watched with wide eyes.

"I was completely baffled, Kate. I didn't really believe her. I knew it had to be true, given all the things I could do, but I needed to hear it from him. I had spent time with him, not a lot of time in the grand scheme of things, granted, but it was enough time to give him the opportunity to tell me the truth. We'd even spoken about my powers a few times, so it's not like he didn't have the chance to tell me. This is a man who is supposed to stand for truth and justice. Now, you tell me, what is so honest and fair about him keeping this a secret from me?

"So I went to him, and I asked him pointblank, 'Is it true?' And you know what he said to me? Nothing! He nodded. He didn't even say 'Yes.' He nodded and said – and I quote – 'Now you know why things have to be the way they are.'"

I stopped and waited for her reaction, which echoed mine perfectly. "What does that mean?"

"I. Don't. Know!" I said slowly. "I didn't understand it then. I don't understand it now! What I did understand – what was made painfully clear to me at that moment, and for every moment thereafter - was that he wasn't able to own up to the truth. No matter what I did, I would never get that admission from him. No matter how much I learned or how hard I tried, I would never get him to say it.

"So for the next few years of my life, I ran around trying to be something I wasn't, in the hopes that one day I would be good enough for him. Every new skill I developed I practiced and fussed over until it made me sick. Sometimes I literally got sick, which only made it worse, because it proved that I would never be strong enough or fast enough or Kryptonian enough. And every time I saw him, I would tell him what I could or couldn't do, hoping he would see that I was trying. Yet all I would get was that look – that disappointed look that drove home the fact that I would never be worthy of him.

"Then I turned fifteen, and I pinned all of my last hopes on flying. He flew when he was fifteen. Well, not flew, but he…hovered. He had been jumping around in a cornfield, going from the tops of one silo to the next, when he fell through the roof of a barn…and he never hit the ground." I hushed my voice in reverence of the idea, punctuating the very act itself.

"I thought maybe I could do the same thing. I would jump and jump and jump and jump. Every morning for that whole year I would wake up and jump off my bed and expect not to hit the ground. But I always did. And it only made me more frustrated and desperate to prove that I could do it – that I wasn't worthless – and maybe he'd accept me then."

My voice was cracking now, the words spilling out of me in a torrent, saying things I'd never said to anyone, things I had hardly admitted to myself. Emotions I'd held in check for so long were finally breaking the surface and pouring over in an unstoppable fashion.

"But it never happened, and I thought maybe I just needed more space. So when my class took a field trip to some farm upstate, I broke away from the group and ran off where no one could see me. And I started jumping. I jumped and I jumped, higher and higher each time. I could jump to the roof of the buildings if I tried, but I always came back down in the end. And I'd jump again, harder, higher, and I'd pray to whatever God was listening to please let me stay in the air! Don't let me hit the ground!" I shouted to the ceiling.

I stopped and looked Kate directly in the eyes. "I always came back down." I wet my lips and ran a hand through my hair. "I got in so much trouble with the school. Mom went ballistic. It wasn't until we got home and I told her what I had been doing that she eased up on me. She sent me to my room and waited for him to come by. When he showed up, she explained to him what I had done and he said…" I swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotion from showing itself too strongly. "He said, 'He'll never fly, Lois. He's too human.'"

Tears stung my eyes. It had been years since I had given him the satisfaction of my tears and I was bound and determined not to shed any now. I wet my lips and refocused on my anger. "That was all I was ever going to get. I knew it right then and there. I was too human. Too human to ever please him, but not human enough to ever pass as normal. So I gave up. I mean, what's the point? He didn't want me around. He never wanted me around. I was an embarrassment to him, and it hurt too much to know that. So I told him I didn't want to see him anymore."

"What?" Kate gasped, and for the first time I noticed that she, too, had tears in her eyes.

"I told him that I didn't want him around – that he didn't need to bother. I wasn't interested in his silly little lessons when there was no hope of me ever living up to his expectations. I was seventeen…and I told him…I didn't need him."

I paused, finding the words difficult to say after all these years. But Kate's eyes were full of concern and I knew she would only press me to go on if I stopped now.

"So he stayed away. And even though that's what I had said I wanted, it really pissed me off that much more that he did stay away. If I even thought about telling my mother to stay out of my life, she would lay into me so hard I wouldn't know what hit me. But with him…I told him to stay away and he did, which was what he must have wanted in the first place. I was just releasing him from his obligations."

When I didn't speak for a good, long while, Kate very quietly said, "He thought he was doing what you wanted."

"Don't defend him."

"I'm not defending him," she said gently. "I'm not saying it was the right thing to do, but you did ask him to stay away." She thought for a moment. "I just can't believe it."

"Which part?" I grumbled.

"That he didn't…that he doesn't…" She looked up at me. "You said that he never accepted you or wanted you. I'm having trouble with that."

"Why?" I groaned.

"Because today…when he landed…when I saw his face - that was the face of a man genuinely worried about you." I rolled my eyes but she pressed on. "He honestly looked frightened for a moment. And then the way he was…just the way he was around you."

"You saw us together all of two seconds, Kate," I pointed out.

"Still, he didn't act like someone who didn't care about you. He wanted to help you!"

"He didn't want me to die. He wouldn't want that on his conscience."

"But what I saw today was not a man acting out of obligation. It was one acting out of real concern," she said earnestly.

"He's concerned about everyone. That's what he does."

"Not like this. There was nothing superficial or habitual about it."

"Witnessing one conversation between us doesn't make you an expert, Kate! In fact, since you were there, we were actually on our best behavior. I was doing my damnedest not to let you know anything was out of the ordinary."

She laughed. "The whole situation was out of the ordinary!"

"I mean when it comes to him! I was trying not to fight with him in front of you. You don't know how hard I was biting my tongue."

Her face contorted as she thought for a moment. "What did he say today that was so wrong?"

"'I know Jason through his mother?' Come on, Kate, that's exactly the type of crap I'm talking about!"

"Well, it's not exactly a lie."

My mouth hung open in shock. "I can't believe you, of all people, are defending him - again!"

"I'm only trying to see both sides here," she said angrily.

"And I'm telling you, what you saw wasn't the real deal!"

"Then what is the real deal?"

"He swoops down, makes me feel like a worthless piece of shit because I can't do everything he expects me to do, and I tell him off in the most hurtful way I can until he flies away. Repeat that about a hundred times over and you've pretty much got it down. And you want to know what really bugs me about it all?"

"There's more?"

"It's not my fault!" I snapped. "I didn't ask for this body! I didn't ask to be half-human, half-alien. I didn't ask for DNA so messed up that my body doesn't even know how to work right. I have no control over what I can and can't do with the whole superpowers business. And yet he acts as if I do! He makes me feel so guilty that I have this useless body. As if I'm the one that created it! Because of that, I spent a good, long portion of my life blaming myself for the distance between us. It took me years to realize that it's not my fault!"

"But it is your fault," she quipped, enflaming my rage that much more.

"How? I had nothing to do with my own conception!"

"No, it obviously isn't your fault that you were born the way you were. However, you do have control over your actions, and from what I've seen and heard, you are just as much to blame as he is."

I gasped, my mouth going slack in utter shock. "I wasn't the one that turned my back on him!"

"Well, can you blame him? The way you've been talking to me all evening…is that how you talk to him? Little snippy comments whose only purpose is to make him see red?"

"He hurts me by the things he won't say. I think it's only fitting that I repay him by saying the things I want to say."

"And yet, you expect him to come around; you said you were angry that he actually stayed away from you. 'Cause I'll tell you what, Jason, if you talked to me the way I think you talk to him, I wouldn't want to be around you, either." She shook her head.

I was incensed now. "I talk to him that way because it's the only thing that gets through to him!"

"If you want to win him over, you can't treat him like crap."

"I don't want to win him over!" I shouted.

"You want to yell and shout and say the worst possible things to him, and then have him be all buddy-buddy with you."

"I don't want him to be all buddy-buddy!" I raged.

"You expect him to take your beatings and still be your friend at the end of the day."

"I don't want a friend!"

"Then what is it you want?" she snapped.

"I want my father!" I bellowed.

And then I froze. My gaze held hers as the words that had just poured out of my mouth started to sink in. I never called him that. I never allowed myself to even really think of him that way. The fact that I'd just shouted it left me feeling slightly dazed.

My mind was reeling. I had a father – a good father – named Richard White. He'd loved me and cared for me just as a father should. To want more would only be selfish, wouldn't it? I had a mom and a dad, and they took care of me. To demand that kind of attention from a third party was ridiculous. But I couldn't help myself from wanting it. I wanted it desperately. And now I had admitted it plain as day.

I turned away from her, feeling the tears beginning to form again. I had fought them off once, I could do it again. I just lost one battle with myself, and I wasn't about to lose a second. I tried to walk out of the room, but my feet wouldn't move an inch. I stood rooted to the spot as a wave of emotion passed through my body like an electric current. My chin began to quiver, and I felt the first tear fall down my cheek.

"Jason?" Kate called gently.

"What's wrong with me, Kate?" I asked at long last. "What's wrong with me that he couldn't just be my father?" I stumbled over the last word. "I've waited my whole life for him to just say, 'Jason…you are my son.' That's all I've ever really wanted." The second and third tear fell, and I gave up counting because I knew there would be more.

I slowly turned around to face Kate again. "I don't want his powers," I explained. "I don't want his responsibilities. I don't want his name or his legacy or any of that. I just want him to…accept me...human faults and all."

I paused for a moment, and I thought that I had possibly gotten through the worst of it and could now move on. But that wasn't the case. The more I considered my history with him, the more it hurt. Every time he spoke to me as a father should, and yet missed the mark by referring to our association with each other as a "connection" or a "relationship," it stung. My heart burned in my chest as I felt the full weight of that reality consume me.

I broke. And I fell hard.

But for the first time in my life, it wasn't him that caught me. It was Kate.