A/N: This is part 1 of 3. Part 2 will be posted tomorrow or the day after.

Chapter 1 - Staying

Clark was so tired.

It had been a long day, and he still had so many questions. About X-K, about the DOD, about Tal Rho. But right now, he didn't want to think about any of that. He'd dealt with the immediate emergencies, and now he was done for the day. He was looking forward to coming home and enjoying time with his family.

Then Lois told him about Jon. He'd been caught with twenty X-K inhalers at the school; he claimed they weren't his, but he wouldn't say whose they were, and the school was planning to expel him. And now, Jon was waiting to hear from his dad.

Clark's first temptation was to skip that conversation for now. Let Jon stew in his room for a night; it would serve him right for what he'd done. But Jon wouldn't be the only one losing sleep if Clark did that; every second Clark spent thinking about those X-K inhalers, his heart rate rose. It was nothing like the wild, uncontrolled rage he'd felt when he'd lost control of his heat vision and yelled at both boys the other night. It was the hot, burning disappointment of a father who had poured time and sweat beyond measure ensuring his boys knew right from wrong. Knew never to do that.

Clark had gone easy on Jon the last couple of times he'd broken the rules. He wouldn't be making that mistake again tonight. He didn't bother knocking before entering Jonathan's room.

Jon had spent the time since returning to the house unsure whether to pace with anxiety or curl into fetal position and weep. He had settled for lying on his back in his bedroom, arms crossed, finger over his lips, vicious words repeating in his head over and over again.

The fight he'd had with Jordan: You lied to me. I thought you were getting powers.

He'd deserved those words and all the pain that came with them. He deserved a lot worse, honestly, especially considering the way he'd yelled at Jordan only moments later. There had been so much excitement in Jordan's eyes every time he asked about Jon's powers, every time he badgered Jon to tell Mom and Dad and Grandpa . . . Jon had choked down an awful lot of jealousy over the past year as Jordan's powers had developed, but he hadn't realized how much Jordan had been longing for Jon to be right there alongside him. Lying to him about it had been a horrible thing to do.

And then there was Mom: I'm still incredibly disappointed in you. Taking drugs like that is just something I never even thought you would consider doing.

He deserved that one, too, of course. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid. He hadn't even liked the effects of the drugs. They'd just made him treat Jordan like crap, and even the football victory had felt cheap. It had been the first time in a very, very long time that he'd heard his father say I'm proud of you, and it had been fake. He'd thought taking a shortcut to hear those words would still feel better than nothing, but it was so much worse than nothing.

Then he'd managed to get himself arrested . . . Of course, that part would still be happening even if he'd never actually taken drugs. He still would have taken the fall for Candice.

He couldn't tell his parents about that, but he could explain his own actions. He made up his mind that when his mom came back into the room, he'd tell her.

But when the door opened, it wasn't his mom. It was his dad. Jon pulled himself to sit up. "You're back."

"Yeah, I am, and you know what? I was not expecting to hear what your mother just told me."

"Dad, I can explain."

"Jonathan, no." Clark didn't have the energy to deal with excuses right now. "Your mom gave you multiple chances to tell her the whole story, and you chose not to."

Jon fidgeted in his seat. What did that mean? He'd blown it, he'd never have a chance again? "I'm sorry."

Another wave of exasperation hit Clark. Was that all Jonathan had to say for himself, after having been so desperate to explain only seconds earlier? "What were you thinking?"

Jon made himself look up at his father's disappointed eyes. "I just, I . . . I wanted to be better."

"By taking drugs? Have we taught you nothing?"

The words hurt already, and his dad had barely started. Jon felt his breathing start to speed up.

"Have you not heard a single word that either of us has ever said to you?"

"Yes!"

"Then damn it, act like it!"

Jon's breath caught, and his eyes began to sting. He couldn't believe his dad had sworn at him. Dad hated swearing. He called out Jon and Jordan every time they did it.

Clark forced himself to quiet his voice before he completely lost it. At least Jonathan was paying attention now. "Tomorrow you will go, and you will apologize to Principal Balcomb. Then you will apologize to Coach Gaines, and after that, you will apologize to the entire football team."

Jon's throat closed up, his dad's face becoming blurry. Looking his father in the eye hurt more than staring into the sun, but Jon found he couldn't pull his eyes away.

"Your mother and I are gonna . . . figure out how you're gonna finish out the school year, whether it's . . . in the next town over, online, or somewhere else. And after all that, Jonathan—" his dad took a couple of steps toward him, and every muscle in Jon's body tightened as cold, blinding fear flooded his veins— "you and I are gonna have a long talk, about all the important things I thought you already knew, so that you don't ever misrepresent yourself or this family again."

Misrepresent this family. That's what he was doing. Jon lowered his eyes. It was all he could do to hold back the tears.

"Do you understand?"

"...Yes, sir." The words were almost inaudible. His throat had closed up completely, his eyes seconds from overflowing. His chest already ached from trying to hold in sobs. But he wouldn't, couldn't lose it in front of his father. He'd already caused enough damage.

Clark stared down at his son for a long moment. He had said what he wanted to say. He had heard everything he had needed to hear, and then some. But he wasn't satisfied. He was still confused by his son's actions, and so disappointed it burned in the pit of his stomach, and so angry, his pulse pounded in his ears, almost loud enough to drown out the other noises that endlessly vied for his attention. He wanted to keep lecturing. He wanted to demand answers. But more than that, he wanted this whole thing to never have happened.

He would have to settle for ensuring it never happened again.

Jon could feel his breath starting to catch, his lips starting to tremble. He blinked a couple of times, avoiding his father's gaze, and the stinging tears he blinked back were immediately replaced by new ones. Jon was going to lose it. He wished his dad would just leave the room so he could cry on his own.

Then his dad said, "I don't even know how to begin telling you how disappointed I am."

And the floodgates broke.