Chapter 7 - Growing Pains
Jonathan knew he shouldn't be expecting everything to go back to normal right away. His physical condition was still slow to improve, and both of his boys had suffered so much trauma, but he wished he could do something about the relationship between the two brothers. Time was, whenever Clark would spend time at the mansion, he would come home smiling, like a weight had been lifted off him. These days, it seemed like he came home more tense than ever. If Jonathan wasn't mistaken, he even seemed to be limping a little tonight, which Jonathan had never, ever seen him do.
Martha was always reminding Jonathan that the road to recovery would be long and difficult. They'd chosen both of their sons, and they'd never choose any differently. But some days, Jonathan wished Lionel weren't dead, if only so he could slug him in the face. Only Martha had ever had that honor.
The four of them sat down for dinner that evening in silence. Jonathan missed the days when they could all talk and laugh. He hadn't seen real, wide smiles from either Clark or Lex in a long time, and he had no idea he could miss something so simple so much.
Lex was the one to break the silence. He stood from the table with his plate. "If it's alright, I'm going to retire for the night. I have an early morning flight to catch."
Jonathan and Martha exchanged a glance—Lex had never mentioned anything about a flight. "Where are you going, son?" Jonathan asked.
"Russia. Strictly on business."
"Russia?'
"St. Petersburg, specifically." Lex carried his plate over to the sink. "I need to talk to a—"
"Wait, wait, hold on, son." Jonathan stood and followed him. "You didn't talk to us about any work trip."
Lex set down his plate in the sink and turned back to face Jonathan. "I'm sorry, I just scheduled the flight this morning, I didn't realize I needed to consult you. My work is usually exempt from our, ah, deal."
Jonathan had a hard time believing that Lex could really be so naive about his and Martha's expectations. It was far more likely that the boy was testing them somehow. "Yeah, Lex, I think if you're going to be leaving the country, that's something you should tell us about. How long are you going to be gone?"
"It's hard to know."
"So you're just . . . leaving the country, you don't know when you'll be back, and you weren't going to tell us about it?'
"What are you going to do? Stop me from going?" Hints of a sarcastic smile played with the corners of his lips.
Martha raised her eyebrows at Jonathan, and he reminded himself to remain calm. "Of course not, son, you do what you need to do for work, but I'm . . . more than a little surprised you didn't talk to us about this."
"I travel around the world all the time for work. It's never been a big deal."
"You really don't understand why I'm upset?"
Lex actually rolled his eyes.
That was it. Jonathan's voice hardened. "It's not about the trip, Lex, it's about your attitude."
"You freak out over the fact that I'm headed out on a business trip, and you've got a problem with my attitude? I'm twenty-four."
Jonathan lost control for just a second. "Twenty-four and about to be grounded for talking back to me."
Lex took a step closer, venom in his eyes. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound? This whole deal is psychotic. I'm not a child you can boss around."
Martha's soft voice responded before Jonathan could collect his thoughts. "Lex, I've never been under the impression you thought being a part of this family was psychotic or ridiculous."
Lex's breath caught, his eyes darting back and forth between Jonathan and Martha. "Did your parents demand to know where you were at all times when you were in your twenties?"
"It's not the same thing, Lex, and you know it," Jonathan said.
"And why not?"
"Because you asked for our help. Your teenage years were anything but normal, and we're giving you another chance to learn and grow the way you wished you could have when you were younger." Jonathan crossed his arms. "And if that means rebellion, we're going to deal with it the same way parents deal with a rebellious teenager."
"You're actually going to ground me for this. For forgetting to tell you about a trip I just booked this morning."
"You're not grounded yet, but you're headed there for your tone of voice. You have about five seconds to change your attitude before I change it for you."
"Who the hell do you think you are? My father?"
"Yes!"
It was dead silent in the room for a moment, save the hammering of Jonathan's heart. He was still angry about the way Lex had raised his voice and rolled his eyes, but he wasn't happy about the way he himself had reacted, either. He was almost tempted to chalk it up to the general tension, but Lex was still utterly unrepentant; he couldn't completely let it go. "Tell you what. I won't worry about the attitude this time . . . if you tell me why Clark is limping."
Lex's face went dark. He glanced over at Clark, who seemed to be trying to hide the fact that he was subtly shaking his head at Lex.
"Come on now, son, don't think I didn't notice. I can tell he's trying to stop you from telling me. This family believes in honesty." Jonathan winced at his own words—he of all people knew how often they were false. He tried again: "We're honest with each other."
Lex's jaw pulsed, but it was Clark who answered. "It was my choice, Dad. I donated marrow."
It took Jonathan a second to figure out what Clark meant. As soon as he did, anger and adrenaline flooded his mind. "How could you?" he shouted at Lex, using every ounce of restraint to keep himself from grabbing his arm hard enough to bruise it. "What did you do, use Kryptonite?"
"It's a Kryptonite needle," Clark said.
Jonathan kept his eyes on Lex. "Why do you even have that?"
"Dad, listen to me," Clark said. "My blood has healing powers. Lex has a lab working on—"
"A lab?" This time, Jonathan did grab Lex's arm. "You sent Clark's blood to a team of scientists? The one thing we've worked so hard to protect him from, and you just—"
"Jonathan, let his arm go," Martha's calm voice interjected, and Jonathan did, but he kept his jaw clenched.
"I told him to!" Clark yelled. "He didn't want to, but I wanted to help people. What kind of a person would I be if I knew my blood could save lives, but I refused to help?"
Jonathan could feel his pulse in the whites of his eyes. He'd never been so livid with the kid—not when he thought Lex had been storing drugs at their house, not when Lex's surveillance team had taken Martha hostage at LuthorCorp and Lex had lied to Jonathan about it, not when someone from LuthorCorp had dumped toxic waste on their farm and killed his cattle. Not in the years leading up to Jonathan considering Lex to be his son.
The worst part of it, though, was that he knew exactly what Clark meant. He would have done the exact same thing, in Clark's shoes. But he couldn't imagine being willing to draw the blood and cause Clark that much pain. Besides, Lex knew exactly how dangerous it was for anyone else to have any information related to Clark's secret, and yet he'd just sent Clark's blood over. This was more than just testing. It was as if Lex had forgotten everything that mattered to their family.
Lex still hadn't spoken. He hadn't broken his stare yet.
Jonathan counted to ten in his head before speaking, but it didn't help with the anger. "Lex, I'm . . . no, disappointed isn't a strong enough word."
"Do you think it was easy?"
Lex had spoken so softly, Jonathan almost wasn't certain he had spoken at all. "Do I think what was easy?"
"Taking his blood. Hurting him. You think that was fun for me?"
Jonathan's breath caught. "Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?"
"Clark, Lex," Martha said. "Up to your rooms, both of you. Your father will be up to speak to you in a minute."
Both boys hesitantly headed toward the stairs, and Jonathan shifted his weight. He hated it when Martha did this, especially because he understood exactly how necessary it was. Clark and Lex would think they were in trouble; meanwhile, Jonathan would be the one to feel the heat.
When they were both gone, Martha turned to Jonathan. "What are you angry about?"
He fumbled for words. "How could you . . . They . . ."
"Are you upset because Lex hurt Clark, or because he put him in danger?"
"Both!" Jonathan yelled.
"Jonathan."
He took a deep breath and forced himself to lower his voice. "Both. But more about endangering his secret."
"Okay. Who are you angry with?"
"Lex." Jonathan frowned. "Uh. Clark, too. But Lex more."
Martha's eyebrows knitted. "This was a decision they made together."
"At Clark's expense!"
"Do you think Lex pushed him into it?"
"I think—" Jonathan swallowed hard. Clark had specifically said that he was the one to pressure Lex. But Lex was also a lot older; he should have known better. Of course, the whole premise of their deal was that he didn't necessarily know any better than a seventeen-year-old . . .
Martha took a step closer to him, lowering her voice still further. "Why do you think they did it?"
"Because they weren't thinking!"
"Jonathan—"
"They know exactly how dangerous it is. Don't they? Lex wouldn't even let us tell him Clark's secret for months because he knew it was dangerous."
"Lionel is dead. He feels a little safer now."
"Still hasn't started calling me Dad again," Jonathan muttered.
Martha raised her eyebrows. "Is that what this is about?"
"No. No. It's not, it's just . . . everything." So much had changed in such a short period of time. His younger son, who had always been unbreakable, had finally broken. His older son, who had always been so open and honest with them about what he needed, had become closed off and gone his own way. Jonathan was accepting money from Lex without a fight. Clark was self destructing; Lex was talking back and rolling his eyes and taking off on work trips unannounced; Jonathan had grabbed Lex's arm too hard again. "Everything is different."
"I know." She stepped into his arms, laying her head on his chest.
He wrapped his arms tightly around her. Well, almost everything was different.
Martha stepped back and looked him in the eye. "Lionel was doing his research for the wrong reasons, and in the wrong way, but . . . Clark's blood really does save lives. And whoever was working on it before never traced it back to Clark. I don't think you're going to be able to forbid the boys from doing this."
Jonathan clenched his jaw. "But marrow? Really? You saw him limping."
"Your son is very brave. Very selfless."
"I don't see how Lex could stand to do that to him."
"I'm sure it hurts him as much as it hurts Clark. But . . . they believe in this, Jonathan, and they care about people. They want to save lives, and they will."
"So what do I do? Let them walk all over me, let them . . . use Kryptonite on Clark?"
"You're their father. They respect you. Give them some ground rules, I'm sure they'll be willing to make some compromises."
Jonathan took a deep breath and said the words he had become quite tired of saying: "You're right, Martha."
She smiled and kissed him. "Go talk to your boys," she said. "And give them a hug, you hear me?"
"Of course."
She gave his hand a quick squeeze and went to clear the table.
Jonathan climbed the stairs slowly, taking the time to consider what he was going to say. He peeked into Clark's room first, but found it empty; then he went into Lex's room, and both boys were there. Lex sat on the bed, Clark at the desk.
Jonathan looked from his younger son to his older, and carefully said, "Have I told you recently how proud I am of you boys?"
Lex blinked, and Clark's brow furrowed. Clearly, it was the last thing they were expecting to hear.
"You're brave, both of you, in . . . ways I've never been. And you both care so much about helping people."
Clark cracked a slight smile. Lex didn't.
Jonathan sighed. "I'm worried about what you're doing, but I'm not going to stop you. That said, I'd like to give you a few ground rules, for my peace of mind."
Lex's jaw pulsed, but Clark said, "Of course."
"Clark, I don't want you donating blood any more than once a week."
"But Lex said—"
"Blood clinics don't let people give donations even that often."
"That's because humans don't heal that fast."
"And we don't know how long it takes you to heal from Kryptonite exposure. And that reminds me—Lex, you've been using a Kryptonite needle?"
Lex swallowed. "It was something Lionel had."
"I don't want Clark touching Kryptonite, and I certainly don't want it under his skin. If Clark is in the same room as a piece of Kryptonite, you should be able to draw his blood with a regular needle."
Lex's eyes widened. "I sincerely apologize. I didn't even think about . . . I'm sorry." He looked over at Clark. "Mostly for you."
"It's okay, Lex," Clark said. "I didn't think about it, either."
"And for that reason," Jonathan went on, "I want you to consult your mother and me if you're ever going to donate anything besides blood. Clark, I was going to have you working on chores tonight, but you need to rest and recover until that limp goes away. Lex, I trust you, son, but you're not a doctor, and, well, Clark doesn't have a doctor."
"I understand," Lex said.
"And Lex . . . I'm sorry we never made rules about this, but in the future, if you're going out of town, you need to let us know as soon as you know. And we'd like some estimation of when you'll be back."
"It'll be less than a week," he said. "But I don't know exactly how long."
"That's fine. You'll give us a call when you get there safe?"
"I will."
"Good." Jonathan decided that was good enough. Then he remembered one last issue. "As to the attitude, there will be no more warnings. The next time you roll your eyes at me, it's an extra hour of chores."
Lex's eyes flashed for just a second—with anger, annoyance, or embarrassment, Jonathan wasn't sure—but his expression softened. "Yes, sir."
Jonathan nodded. "Did I hurt your arm earlier? When I grabbed it?"
"No," Lex said.
"Come here," Jonathan said, opening his arms. Clark was the first to step forward, standing from the bed and stepping into Jonathan's arms, hugging a little too lightly, as he often did. Lex came forward next; he held himself a bit more stiffly, and Jonathan didn't let him go until he relaxed into the embrace. "Love you, boys."
"Love you too, Dad," Clark said with a smile.
Jonathan looked over at Lex, but he only nodded. For now, that would have to be enough.
