AN: The beta readers get a HUGE shout out this time around. Hellish Red Devil and htbthomas had their work cut out for them with this monster of a chapter. And then I tossed in the feedback from Pen Maestro and decided to change a few things here and there, which made me ask them to read the thing AGAIN. Sigh. I hope, after all the fuss, that you all enjoy this and feel somewhat better about being sucked into such an angst filled fic. I'm not finished with these characters just yet, so no need to request that I continue. I have at least one more thing planned for them, so stay tuned.

I'm pleased to see that I'm not the only person obsessed with Jason lately. There seems to be so many fics right now focusing on him, and I think that's wonderful. I wanted to plug one fic in particular that just had me all giddy with delight. It's called Sick Day and it's by Sostenuto. Just the perfect little stolen moment between Jason and Superman/Clark. Check it out.

Chapter Nine

I wet my lips and immediately started talking, wanting to get this over and done with as fast as I could. "Kate is a psychology major," I announced rather unexpectedly. "Did you know that?"

"No, I didn't."

I leaned against the counter that separated the kitchen from the main room and purposefully kept my eyes on the floor. "Yeah, well, she's really good at what she does." I swallowed. "She has a theory…about…families. Parents and children." I was rambling, I knew that, but there was no hope for it. The only way I could ever hold my own around him was if I said things that were intentionally spiteful, and I had promised Kate I wouldn't do that today. So he'd just have to deal with my rambles and I'd hope he'd understand me.

"She says that parents have certain expectations for their children…and that children want certain things from their parents in return. The problem is that most parents in the world never tell their children exactly what it is they expect, which makes the children think that the expectations are higher than they really are. Same with the kids. They never tell their parents what they need from them. So both parents and the children spend the majority of their lives trying to do what the other one wants when they never really knew what it was the other one wanted in the first place."

It had sounded much better when Kate explained it to me last night. It all came out in a rush and I doubted I had made any sense at all, but I pressed on. "Kate says that…um…you and me…that we are a perfect example of that."

"I'd say Kate's a pretty intelligent young woman."

"Do you think I would fall in love with someone who was stupid?" I internally slapped myself the moment the words were out of my mouth. "Sorry. I'm not supposed to do that."

"Do what?"

"Snap at you."

"But you're so good at it," he said with a hint of a tease.

I bit back the nasty retort that sprang to my mind. "Kate said that I had to talk to you without acting like a bastard."

"Jason." There was a warning in his tone.

I rolled my eyes. "Asshole. I'm not supposed to act like an asshole. Is that better?"

"It's not the word I would use, but it's certainly better than your first choice." He stepped closer to me. "Why would she say that? I mean, I thought she didn't care much for me."

I shifted against the wall. "Well, you're not her favorite person, but she still thought I should give you a chance."

"And you listened to her?"

I looked up at him in surprise. "Yes."

"Your mom's been trying to get you to talk to me for years now. Why the sudden change of heart?"

I slumped farther down the wall. "Because Kate said she couldn't marry me as long as I was this angry at you." I hated telling him that, but I'd also promised her I would tell the truth to him. "She offered to come along to help make sure things stayed civil, but I thought that would just be awkward, so I promised her that I'd be on my best behavior. Feel free to tattle on me for snapping."

"I'm not going to tattle, but I do appreciate the chance to talk." He paused, and the conversation was again awkward and tense. "So…what do you want to…talk…about?" It wasn't like him to sound so unsure of himself.

"I dunno," I mumbled. "I mean, don't you have anything to say to me?"

"What do you want me to say?"

God, he was so irritating sometimes. "Look, I came over here. I made the first move. I don't think I should be the one to have to start fleshing out the details."

"All right then," he said quickly, trying to avoid an argument

"If you ever wanted to say something to me, then now is your chance. So just…say it."

I noticed that his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "I guess that what I need to say is that I'm sorry. I failed you and I'm not sure where I went wrong. I only ever wanted you to be happy. Happy and safe. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to keep you safe without infringing upon your happiness."

"You mean because you stayed away."

"Yes."

My eyes returned to gaze at that familiar spot on the floor. "And I only ever wanted you around. I wanted to know that I fit somewhere. That I belonged somewhere. That I wasn't just some…freak."

"And I didn't do a very good job of communicating that to you," he admitted.

I snorted. "You didn't do a good job of communicating anything to me except that everyone else was more important than I was."

"Which is not true." He punctuated the last words sharply.

I glanced up at him briefly, only to quickly look away from those wide, earnest eyes of his. "You say that now, but you never really showed it."

"Jason, I couldn't. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't."

"Yeah…right," I scoffed, and sat down on the couch.

He sat down in the chair opposite me, and I could feel his eyes on me. He wanted me to look up at him, it was obvious. But I kept my eyes down.

"Every moment I spent with you put you at risk. The more time I spent with you, the more opportunity someone had to wonder at why I paid you so much attention. I couldn't risk that, Jason. I couldn't put you in a position where people could use you against me. If anyone ever found out about the connection between you and me, you could have been made a target. So I forfeited so many opportunities to see you in the hopes that it would keep you out of the public's eye and safe from any of my enemies."

"Connection," I mumbled. I hated when he referred to me that way. "You didn't want anyone to know about the mistake you made. About me."

"No," he started. "Well…not like that. I didn't want anyone to know who you were."

"Right. Because who would believe that?"

"No…"

"Who would believe that you had such a failure for a…" I wasn't going to be the one to say it first. I thought maybe he would catch on and finish the sentence.

Instead, he said, "Failure?" From the corner of my eye I saw him shake his head. "I don't…understand."

"You didn't want anyone to know because…it would be…too embarrassing." I was stumbling over the words now.

"Why would that be…embarrassing?"

Was he really going to make me say it? "Because I'm not good enough." Was this some kind of new game for him? Make me admit that I'm not anywhere near worthy enough to be related to him?

He didn't say anything. The room was quiet, and I couldn't stand it. "I'm not good enough," I continued in a voice just above a whisper. "And I never will be. You can't even admit the truth to me; you're so ashamed of me. I'm nothing but a disappointment and a constant reminder of a mistake so painful that you won't even let my mother remember it." My voice was shaking, but I refused to let myself shed a tear. "That's why you didn't want me."

The room was silent again as I waited for him to say something – anything that would justify his reason for what a disappointment I was. After a few torturous seconds of silence, I glanced over at him to find him staring back at me in total shock. His brows were furrowed, not in anger, but in confusion. His mouth hung open slightly and there was real pain evident in his eyes. After another moment, he slumped back in his chair, appearing defeated and completely lost. He blinked and swallowed hard, but still said nothing. Resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, he covered his mouth with his hand and continued to look at me in astonishment.

"Oh, my God," he sighed into his hand. He made a fist and pressed it against his upper lip in thought. "How long have you felt this way?" he asked so quietly I almost thought I imagined it.

Was he serious? He was acting as if he'd never known I felt this way. How could he not know? It'd always been so obvious. "All my life," I informed him.

His eyes shut tight before he covered them with his hand. "Oh, my God," he groaned again. "No wonder you hate me."

He took another moment to run his hand through his hair before looking at me again. The frown on his face echoed mine, as did the confusion. The hurt reflected in his eyes was difficult to endure. He looked as if he might cry. I'd seen him visibly shaken. I'd seen him worried and emotional. But I'd never seen him cry. His reaction to my words only puzzled me all the more.

Suddenly he stood up and walked away from me, keeping his back to me so that I couldn't judge the emotion on his face. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and his voice was low and shaking. "Wow, Jason. Wow." He paused, and I heard a small puff of air escape him like a tiny laugh. "When you said you never wanted to see me again…that you hated me…I never thought you would ever say anything to me that could hurt more than that. But…ashamed of you?" he gasped. "Not want you? Do you really believe that's what I feel?"

"I don't have any reason not to believe it. You never gave me any proof otherwise," I pointed out.

"Ashamed of you," he whispered. "Oh…Jason…" He turned slowly to look over at me with eyes that were clouded with tears. "Nothing could be further from the truth."

I pulled my eyes away from his. I couldn't stand the raw emotion I saw there. I couldn't believe what he trying to express now after so many years of demonstrating the exact opposite.

"You have no idea," he mumbled. "You really have no idea."

"No, I don't," I agreed, "because you've never told me."

"I didn't think you wanted to hear it."

"Why wouldn't I want to hear it?" I snapped. "Isn't that what every kid wants to hear from their parents? Isn't that what parents are supposed to say?"

"But I wasn't legally your parent. That privilege fell on Richard's shoulders."

That stung, and I had to fight him on that count. "You think this is about legality? Just because your name isn't on some piece of paper doesn't mean that you don't have any responsibility. Tell me, were you ever legally adopted by the Kents?"

He looked confused, but he said, "No…not legally. They forged…"

"They were still your parents, though. I mean, they still took care of you like parents should."

"Yes," he admitted slowly.

"So don't give me this legality crap. If you wanted the legal rights, you could have had 'em." Which was entirely the truth. Had he asked, I'm sure Mom would have said yes. "Just stick to the truth," I finished, looking back down at the floor.

"The truth is that I didn't want to upset your life any more than I already had. Lois asked me to wait until you were old enough to understand, and I agreed with her. You were still so little, and I wasn't going to rip you away from the only family you'd ever known. Had Richard abused or mistreated you in any way, then I would have been justified. But Richard loves you as if you were his own son."

I snapped. "Something you could never bring yourself to do."

He gasped again and shook his head. "You think I don't love you." It wasn't a question. "Of course. If I'm ashamed of you…and I don't want you...then I certainly don't love you." He wiped his hand over his eyes. "I've really failed you, haven't I, Jason?"

It took everything I had not to say yes back to him. Instead, I let him stew in his own failure for a moment – let him feel some of the pain I felt every day of my life. I thought it would be much more effective and fair for him to have to own up to everything he'd failed at doing for me. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to realize how very little he understood about me – how he never took the time to even notice my feelings or consider how his absence hurt more than it helped.

Feel it – I willed at him. Hurt. Pain. Sticks and stones can't break your bones but words will cut right to the core.

He took a deep breath, and I readied myself for the apology I so richly deserved. I'd let him lie to me again, just this once. I'd listen to his moaning and false assurances that it was all for the best and then I'd tell him to toss off and stay away. I'd done my part – I'd talked to him and I'd stayed reasonably civil. Kate never said I had to forgive him! Just talk.

But the words that came out of his mouth next weren't an apology. They were completely opposite from what I was expecting.

"The first time I saw you," he started quietly, "was at the Planet. You probably don't even remember. I had seen your picture on Lois' desk, so I knew who you were, but to see you face-to-face…" He stopped and smiled. "You were so cute. The spitting image of Lois. Except with blue eyes."

I looked away from him, blushing and wanting to tell him to just shut up. This wasn't what I wanted to hear. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

"And then Lois came along and introduced me to you…and to Richard. He scooped you up in his arms…and he kissed Lois." His voice wavered. "You have no idea what that did to me. To not only see her with another man, but to see her happy…and with a child. It was like a nightmare come true. I knew then that Richard would always have something with Lois that I could never have – that I wasn't allowed. I'd never felt more alone than I did those first few days I was back. And I have felt alone for most of my life."

I frowned at him. His loneliness was his own doing. He made that choice.

"I don't know how much you remember about that time, but everything going on with Luthor…and with your mother…I just sort of shut down. Yes, there was kryptonite…but it was more than that." His voice dropped in volume even more. "I remember sleeping – sleeping so deeply and soundly that I didn't ever want to wake up. I felt free – free from responsibility, from…loneliness. There wasn't anything holding me here. The world had survived for five years without me. How bad would it really be if I…just stayed…asleep."

I gaped at him. It was unfathomable. I'd never heard him talk this way, and I wasn't sure if I could actually believe what I was hearing. Had he really been hurt that much? And if that's how he really felt, why, then, did he ever choose to come back and return to the life he seemed to regret?

I soon got my answer, and nothing I had heard prior prepared me for it.

"Then, as I laid there in that hospital bed, I heard Lois whispering to me. I would recognize her voice anywhere. And she told me…that you were my son. My son. Not Richard's. My son. My flesh and blood."

If I could have, I would have curled up inside of myself to hide from those words. I sat on my hands, my entire body rigid. I'd waited for so long to hear this that I couldn't quite control my reaction to it. I kept my eyes away from him as he continued, not daring to look at him for fear of the emotion I would feel.

His voice was shaking. "I don't think I can describe to you what I felt in that instant. I knew it was true. Why would she tell me you were my son if you weren't? Why would she bring you to my room to see me if you weren't my son – because I know you were there. I heard you. You kissed my forehead."

I shut my eyes tight, not wanting to remember, wishing I could take it back. I remembered how odd it was to see him in a hospital bed. I remembered how I touched the emblem of his outfit in wonder. I remembered wanting him to get better. I remembered kissing him with the childlike innocence of a little boy uncertain of a future without Superman in it.

"Something inside me exploded," he went on, his voice slightly growing in intensity. "It was as if I'd never truly felt alive until that moment. All I wanted was to feel more of that power, and the only way I could have that was if I saw you. I had to see you again, not as Lois' son, but as my son. I had to look at you as a father." He choked on the word. "A father."

"I left the hospital as soon as I had the strength to do so." I heard him take a step closer to me. "I only had one destination in mind. There was only one face I wanted to see. One face that filled my mind." He was close enough now that I could see his shoes. "And for the first time in a very long time, that face didn't belong to Lois."

He sat down next to me, but I refused to look up. I couldn't. I didn't want him to see what I was feeling. I didn't want to feel this emotion. This wasn't part of the plan. He was supposed to make excuses and try to apologize and I was supposed to refuse him. He was never supposed to tell me everything I'd ever wanted to hear from him – everything I'd longed to hear. It was too much.

But he wasn't done. And I was powerless to stop him. If I spoke now, the emotion in my voice would betray me.

"I stood in your bedroom that night in complete and total wonder of you. I don't think I'd ever seen a more perfectly beautiful child in my life. I was tempted to wake you up so that I could hear your voice…see your eyes. In all of the galaxy…in all the universe…there isn't one single being that I can call my flesh and blood. There isn't one single being alive that I can honestly look at and see any similarity to myself…except for you."

His voice became harder then. "And you think that I'm disappointed with you. That I'm ashamed of you. That I don't want you. Jason…" The reverence I had heard in his voice earlier returned in full force. "You are my miracle. You are a gift. Of all the things I've ever done in my life, all the lives I've saved, all the disasters I've helped to avoid, you are the one I am most proud of. You are more important to me than any other life on this or any other planet…including your mother."

The way his voice broke sent a ripple of emotion traveling through my body. I still couldn't look at him. I tried with all my might to fight back the emotions building within me. I wasn't supposed to be the one hurting right now. He was. And it still didn't make sense to me. If he cared for me the way he said he did, why did he insist on making me feel so worthless? I couldn't let that go. I couldn't let the power of these new emotions overshadow the old ones.

"If that's true," I managed in a voice so hoarse and unfamiliar, "then why…why did it take you this long to tell me?"

"Like I said earlier, I didn't think you wanted to hear it. When you were little, I couldn't tell you without confusing you. Yet when you were old enough to understand, you never seemed to want to listen to anything I said about Krypton or our relationship. You would shrug it off and insist on changing the subject."

"Because I didn't want lectures reminding me how worthless I was!"

"Worthless? Jason! Did you not hear a word I just said to you?"

"I heard them, but they contradict everything you've ever done for me. If you really care about someone, you don't stay away from them. And when you see them, you don't make them feel as if they aren't good enough."

"How did I do that?" he beseeched.

"Every time a new power developed, I would come running to you to show you what I could do in the hope that you would see that I was at least trying, but it was never enough." My chin quivered as I spoke, making my voice sound that much more uneasy. The emotions were right there on the surface, but I fought desperately to keep them reigned in. "I could do some things, but it was never enough. I was never strong enough, never fast enough. It took me ages to learn what little control I have today. And instead of praising me for the things I could do, you looked at me with disappointment, disappointment that I would never…that I would never be like you." I couldn't help the way I fell over my words.

He frowned in confusion again. "No, you misunderstand, Jason. If I looked at you in disappointment, it wasn't because I was unhappy with your accomplishments, but that I thought you were unhappy with them. You always tried to do more than I knew you were able to do. You would get so frustrated with yourself. I thought you wanted to be able to do more, and when you couldn't, it seemed to me that it caused you pain. If I looked at you in disappointment, it was because I knew there were limits to your powers."

"Exactly!" He'd admitted it! "Because I'm too human!"

"What?"

"I'm too human." The fire boiled inside me. "You never accepted me because I'm too human!"

"I never said that," he contested.

"Oh, yes, you did!" I lashed out. "I heard you say it to Mom."

"When?"

I looked him straight in the eyes and released the last reservoir of anger I'd been holding in. "When I was about fifteen. You said, 'He'll never fly, Lois. He's too human.' I heard it with my own ears, so don't you dare deny it!"

His blue eyes stared back at mine in disbelief. "I didn't say that as an insult, but as a matter of fact. The human part of your body makes it impossible for you to do some of the things I can do. Specifically, gravity works differently on your body than it does mine."

"And you can't stand that," I added.

"Can't stand…?"

"That I'm human. Or part human. Or whatever I am."

"Your humanity is part of who you are, Jason."

"Yeah, the bad part, according to you."

"No!" he said fiercely, making me jump. "Don't you dare accuse me of not caring for you because of your humanity. Don't even think it. Your humanity comes from your mother, who I happen to love very much. Saying that I don't love you because you're human implies that I don't love her for the same reason, and that is simply not true."

I wet my lips again, still fighting a war with my emotions. "It's what keeps me from being like you."

"Jason, I don't want you to be like me!"

"You said Jor-El's words applied to me," I reminded him.

"They do. You have the power to help people, but that doesn't mean you have to offer your help the way I do. I want you to have a life of your own, yes, but I don't want you ignore your gifts in an attempt to push me out of your life. You might, someday, look back and realize how many people you could have helped, and I don't what you to ever feel guilty for not helping someone when you potentially could have."

"So let me get this straight," I sputtered out in a broken voice, tears very nearly filling up my eyes. I was losing the battle with my feelings. "You want me to believe that this whole time…I have been the most important thing in you life?"

"Yes," He answered without hesitation.

"That you don't care what I do with my life so long as I…try…to do what I can to help people…when I can…discreetly."

"Yes."

"And the fact that I'll never be as good as you…that doesn't matter?"

"Jason," he said calmly. "If you didn't have any powers – if you never developed any of my abilities – if you couldn't lift anything heavier than a penny – if there was no more similarity between you and me except for the color of your eyes…you would still be my son." His voice cracked, the truth unmistakably showing in the way his eyes bore into my own. "It doesn't matter to me how strong or fast you are or if you can fly or not. You are my son, no matter what."

I noticed that his eyes were wet. I shouldn't have looked into his eyes, for now my own eyes were filling up with unshed tears.

"I know…I know that you wish Richard was your real father," he faltered. "I can't change that for you. No matter how little we see of each other…if you decided you never wanted to see me or speak to me again…you will still be my son."

I wanted to tell him to stop, that I couldn't hear this, that it was too much, but I knew that if I spoke even one word, the wall would break and I would be lost. I repressed the sob that was building in my chest, feeling my heart beating rapidly, and noticing for the first time that his heart was beating just as fast. His breathing had increased, too, nearly matching mine. I couldn't take it in. This wasn't supposed to be happening like this.

"And Jason," he added, "no matter how much you hate me…"

Don't say it, I screamed mentally. No. I can't…

"…I will always love you."

I covered my face with my hands, not wanting him to witness what was happening to me. I didn't believe it myself. How many years had I waited to hear those words? How many years had I believed just the opposite of what he was now telling me? How had I ever let it go on this long without confronting him? What little restraint I had in keeping my emotions in check was lost for good now and I cried into my hands freely.

I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Jason," he soothed.

I crumbled into his embrace, finally finding the comfort I had been searching for since I was a little child. His arms held me, supported me, and for the first time, I allowed my mind to think of him as my father. Not just as the man who fathered me, but as my father – as the strength I'd always wanted and needed. My father was comforting me. My father was telling me I was good enough. My father.

"I love you, Jason," he muttered through his own tears. "Don't ever doubt that again. Blame me for not making sure it was perfectly clear to you sooner, but don't doubt it. Never doubt it. I love you."

I balled up my fists and squeezed my arms around him tightly, not wanting to let go. Everything I felt – every word I had heard tonight-- echoed in my head. I thought over my life and all the moments I had spent with him, comparing the things I had believed about our relationship to the things he had said tonight, and found, with despair, that he was being honest with me. He was telling me the truth. He really didn't know I had been struggling with this all my life. All the years that I had spent trying to win his affection by proving myself to him…how pointless it all was! I already had his affection. I had it all along, and I never allowed myself to see it.

"I love you, Jason," he repeated.

I sniffed and somehow managed to say, "I know."

It was his turn to squeeze me this time, and I let myself feel the power of his embrace. But I couldn't let it go on too long. Losing control was becoming a habit, and I needed to regain my footing quickly or I'd turn into a blubbering idiot.

I broke away from him abruptly, standing up and walking to the window while I wiped at my eyes. "Okay," I sighed, forcing my voice to sound normal. "That's good. I'm good." My hands pressed into my eyes to clear out any residual tears that might still be lurking. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Okay," I muttered again.

Once I had regained my composure, I felt confident enough to turn around and face him. He too had stood up. His eyes were tinted red, but he had a subtle, soft smile on his face. "So…um…" he stuttered, sounding more like the Clark Kent he pretended to be than his real self.

"Yeah," I breathed, not knowing what to say.

"What do we do now?" he asked slowly.

"I don't know. I've been angry at you for so long. And I'm not saying that I'm still not angry. I mean…I still have things to think about…but…"

"But we're better?" he pressed.

I only nodded. "Will you do something for me, though?"

"Anything, Jason."

I doubted he would fulfill my request, but I had to ask. "Will you tell Mom? It would make my life a lot easier if she knew."

He pursed his lips. "Would you believe me if I told you that I have come very close to telling her quite a few times?"

That surprised me. "Why didn't you?"

"Because…I'm too selfish," he confessed. "I used to think of myself as rather unselfish…giving up so much of myself for everyone else. And the one time I did ask for something for myself, it backfired and the world was put in danger. And Lois…Lois was a wreck because of it." He paused a moment and ran a hand through his hair. "What I did cost me her love. As Superman, our relationship has been…strained…confusing, and that's entirely my fault. But as Clark Kent, I still had your mother's friendship. She would talk to me and occasionally have a meal with me and, most importantly, tell me what was going on in your life. If I told her the truth about who I was, I risked losing her again, and I don't think I could have handled that."

"Does that mean you won't tell her now? Even if I promise to try…I mean…I'm not saying it's perfect, but if I promise to let you in my life more…will you tell her?"

He thought for a moment. "I'll tell her, but you're going to have to give me some time."

"Just make it very clear to her that I wanted to tell her right from the start."

"Absolutely."

"I don't want her angry with me because of your choices."

"Agreed," he said. "But you need to do something for me in return."

Oh no. I was afraid to ask. "What?"

"If ever I mention Krypton, or your abilities, or any of those things that you would normally scoff at, will you please not moan and groan and roll your eyes in disgust?"

I nearly smiled. "Okay. I can do that."

"You can't ever expect to accept who you are unless you can accept who I am."

I blinked in amazement at his sudden perceptiveness. He'd missed the mark so many times in the past that I was slightly dazed at how he was able to pick up on something like that. It pained me to have to admit that he was right.

"Then you have to accept me for who I am, too," I declared. "I'm not a superhero, I'm just a pianist."

"Oh, Jason, you are much more than 'just a pianist.'"

"Well, yeah," I shrugged. "I have a girlfriend…and I have family troubles…"

"No, that's not what I mean," he chuckled. "The way you said 'just a pianist' makes it sound as if it's simply a hobby or a passing phase, when in fact you are so very talented. You have a gift with music that no matter how hard I tired, I never could manage for myself."

"Yeah, well, I wanted to be good at something that you sucked at," I said in all honesty.

"You succeeded," He chuckled again.

And then it hit me. "When have you heard me play?"

"I have heard every concert or recital that you have ever given."

I didn't believe him. "You were never there. I never saw you."

"Just because I wasn't seated in the audience doesn't mean I wasn't listening," he pointed out. "Clark Kent couldn't very well attend all of your concerts. Lois would start to wonder if I was stalking you."

"You heard…all of them?" I was amazed.

"Every one – except the one at the end of your junior year. A building collapsed just as it was starting. I actually weighed the options for a moment. I'm sorry I missed it. Your mom told me that you made her cry."

"I played the 'Moonlight Sonata,'" I said, still stunned by this new piece information. "I don't know why it made her cry, but it… Every one?" I asked again, almost disbelievingly.

He nodded. "I also saw most of your games the two years you were in Little League, the three times that you went out for the spelling bee, and a rather comical performance in a play about Long John Silver when you were in fifth grade."

"Oh, my God," I groaned and covered my face. "You saw that?"

"Of course I did," he said, still chuckling slightly. "You're my son."

It surprised me how easily and freely he said the words now, as if the years of avoiding them had never happened. Even more surprising was how happy it made me feel.

"If I gave you a ticket to the competition I'm going to be in soon, would you come?" I asked.

"I would be honored."

The room was quiet for a while as we just looked at each other, feeling the change that had passed between us. It was rather unbelievable.

"I should go," I said at last, turning to the door. "Kate's probably pacing the floor wondering what happened to me, I've been gone so long."

"Yes, of course," he agreed, following me to the door. "Will you tell her I said thank you?"

"For what?"

"For today."

"Oh."

"And Jason, if ever you need to talk…"

"I know," I stopped him. "You're always around."

He smiled. "I am."

For the first time in a long time, I believed him.