Chapter 29 - Damage Control
Martha was still catching her breath when Lex left the room. She took a moment to survey her environment: Clark, who hadn't quite recovered from Jonathan's unintentionally harsh chastisement a moment earlier; Jonathan, who hadn't quite gained control of his anger. Her own heartbeat, pounding fast enough that she couldn't quite trust the words that came out of her mouth to be the right ones.
Jonathan was the first to speak. "I'm going to take a minute to think," he told Clark.
"OK," Clark said. "I, uh, I'll stay in here. For... a week..." His voice faltered.
Martha reached over to squeeze his hand. It was a harsh consequence, but it would give him time to reflect, which was what he needed.
Jonathan left the room, and she followed him out. He went to their bedroom, and she went downstairs to wait for him. In the meantime, she kept her hands busy in the kitchen. The kids had been out for much of the night, and she assumed they would need some time to rest, especially Lex, who was still recovering from the gunshot wound. That didn't mean she couldn't put together something for lunch, to wait in the fridge until they woke up.
She was second-guessing, again, Lex's explanation of what his dark side was. Either the black kryptonite didn't actually split him based on morality, or he was misinterpreting the voice. It couldn't be his every vice personified. He, the light side alone, had just sworn at his father and told his brother to shut up. She hadn't seen him act so poorly in the entire time that his dark side was in dominance. If his darkness was his every fault, he wouldn't be capable of misbehaving now. He had proven today that he was perfectly able to be a menace without his darkness.
She had suspected as much, but she just couldn't put her finger on what she was missing.
It took about ten minutes for Jonathan to come downstairs. "I still can't believe it," he said.
"Lex is still processing a lot, Jonathan."
"He's never sworn at me like that before."
"He might be testing you."
"Is he ever going to stop testing?"
Martha gave him a sad smile. "Lionel hurt him for decades. Do you think he's going to heal from that in a year or two?"
"I know. I know. It's just…" Jonathan shook his head.
Martha took a deep breath. "You need to finish that talk with Clark."
"OK."
"Are you ready for that?"
"To talk with Clark? Sure. I'm not angry with him."
She nodded. "Why don't you take him out to the loft? He'll be more ready to accept your comfort there."
Jonathan kissed her on the cheek and walked up the stairs. As soon as she saw him come down and head out the door with Clark, she grabbed a notepad and pen, and she headed up the stairs herself. She readied herself to be what Lex would need her to be: coolheaded, but firm.
She knocked on his door before opening it. She took a moment to gauge his expression before entering; his jaw was still set.
She wasn't putting up with any attitude from her son. She sat down the items on his desk and went directly over to him, giving his ear a light twist.
His breath caught, the fight instantly leaving his eyes.
Martha knew it hadn't been enough to hurt him. It probably hadn't even been enough to be uncomfortable, physically. But she was sure it left an impression anyway. He might be embarrassed, but he should be. He'd sworn at his father three times. "That's for the swearing."
"Ah... sorry..."
"You should be. I don't know what's come over you, but I don't like it one bit, and I don't want to see that attitude again. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, keeping his head low.
She went over to point out the pad of paper on the desk. "I will not eavesdrop on my family's conversations. One hundred times."
"Oh."
"Yeah. After that, you will write an apology letter to your brother for snapping at him. Do you know how to write an apology letter?"
"I'm guessing it's the opposite of the ones we write for PR."
"Sincere. Own up to your wrongs without making excuses. No casting blame."
He winced. "Yes, ma'am."
"When that's done, I want you to talk to your father."
At this, his eyes flickered a bit. "He was wrong."
"I didn't ask if he was wrong. I asked you to talk to him."
"Mom, I really am sorry. I did this the wrong way, I know. But Clark didn't deserve to be grounded. He was in an impossible situation, and he did the best he could."
"What did I ask you to do?"
He groaned. "Can it wait? I'm really tired."
"I'm sure you are. You're not on house arrest because of anything you did, but I think you should stay down for a few days, anyway. To rest and recover."
He smirked. She could see in his eyes that he knew exactly what she was doing, but she didn't really care. "OK, Mom."
"Nap first. Then that letter, then the lines, then talk to your father."
"OK."
She bent down to kiss the side of his head. "I love you, sweetheart."
"Love you too."
She left his room and went downstairs to find Jonathan coming in. "I think he's OK," Martha said.
"Clark, too." Jonathan glanced toward the stairs. "Should I talk to him?"
"Let him come to you. I punished him for the swearing, eavesdropping, and snapping at Clark. He's taking a nap."
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"
"Not much. He was ready to talk after he'd had a little time to think." She might've been skipping a couple of things, but she didn't feel the need to give every detail. She didn't want to embarrass Lex any further.
"OK. I trust you."
"I'm going to go see Clark."
"I didn't change his punishment."
"I know. I didn't think you should."
"I told him he could have a few more minutes in the loft, but then he had to spent the next week in his room."
"I support you."
Jonathan ran a hand down his face. "Why is this so hard, Martha?"
"Raising teenage boys, one of whom is the most powerful person on earth and the other who had to shoot his biological father in self-defense and just got shot last month?"
"Point taken."
She smiled and kissed him, then she went out to the barn.
Clark sat on the couch up in the loft, his eyes and cheeks still red from crying. Martha sat down next to him.
"I really could have killed him," he said. "It would have been my fault."
"Baby, it's not worth thinking about that."
"I can't stop." He turned to look her in the eyes. "It could have happened again. I never could have forgiven myself."
"We're safe now. Focus on that."
"His darkness is still out there."
"And we'll keep an eye out. We'll look for him, and I'm sure Lex has some ideas about what to do about him."
"What if he comes back to kill us?"
"From what we've seen, that doesn't seem to be his first goal." It was hard for her to accept that, not to worry, but it was the truth. She was still working out what the darkness was, and she still didn't know what it wanted, but she didn't think it wanted death and destruction for its own sake. Until and unless they were all that stood in the way of some scheme for power, she didn't think they were in immediate danger. "Did you talk to Lex?"
"Yeah."
"Did you apologize?"
"Yeah, but he didn't seem to be upset. He thought I would have a hard time forgiving him."
Martha sighed. Apparently, more conversations with Lex were in order, but it would be awfully difficult until she could figure out more about who and what this half of her son even was. "He loves you, you know."
Clark hung his head, burying his face.
"Hey." She gently stroked his hair. "What was the first thing you said when we started talking?"
"Uh. I said that Lex's dark side took over, and I found out in Egypt."
"Before that."
"I don't remember."
"You said you were thankful. Your brother is alive, and he's home. "
A silent tear traced its way down his cheek.
"We would've found another way, Clark. I don't want you to do this again, nothing like this. But… you brought him home. He's alive, and he's safe."
Clark nodded, but his tears had begun to flow once again. She suspected it might happen more than once again as he processed everything.
She would be here for him. Every time. That was easy part of all of this, her joy, her privilege. Martha reached over to take her son into her arms, and she gently pulled his head down onto her shoulder.
"I've got you," she said, and she smiled to herself a little, because it was true.
