Chapter 2 - Crying
Then his dad said, "I don't even know how to begin telling you how disappointed I am."
And the floodgates broke.
Jon lowered his face to his hands, sobbing harder than he had in years while trying to keep his cries as silent as he could. It hurt. It hurt so much. And he deserved every bit of it.
Clark's jaw set as he watched his son dissolve into dramatic weeping. "No, Jon. No. You're not getting out of this."
"I'm sorry!" Jon's voice cracked as he wiped his eyes and forced himself to look his father in the face. His throat was killing him from trying to hold back.
"Not yet, you're not. Your mother and I still have to discuss punishment. You might as well save your tears."
"I-I'm not trying to get out of—"
"You can save your apologies, too."
"No, I'm just...sorry for crying...I'll stop, I swear, just give me a second..."
The air rushed out of Clark's lungs.
Sorry for crying.
Clark had gotten it all wrong. Jon wasn't trying to get out of anything. He was trying not to cry.
The signs had all been there that Jon was holding back tears throughout the conversation; Clark should have noticed. He just hadn't paid attention. He'd been tired, robbed of a peaceful evening after a long day.
At the thought, a new wave of exhaustion passed over him. He had half a mind to leave the room. It wasn't as though Jon didn't deserve to be scolded to tears for what he had done. But Jon almost never cried during a lecture or punishment. That was much more Jordan's personality.
Clark was still angry, still devastatingly disappointed, but even the anger and disappointment should've been motivated and backed by love. And when he dug deep, past the exhaustion and irritation, it really was. He couldn't just leave his son like this.
Jon took deep breaths and rubbed his face, forcing himself to think about anything but his dad's disappointed eyes staring down at him. He'd messed up, worse than he ever had. He had to face the consequences like a man.
And then his dad took a step even closer.
John couldn't help it. He cringed. His dad sat down beside him on the bed, and his hand reached toward Jon's back, and Jon flinched away from his touch.
Clark pulled his hand back in surprise. What did Jon think he was going to do? He had never struck his kids. Did Jon really think Clark was going to hurt him now? He searched his son's face, only to find fear he'd never seen before. Even when Clark had lost control in the locker room, Jon had looked more concerned than afraid. Now, he looked absolutely terrified.
Jon tried to force himself to relax. It seemed like his dad might actually be trying to comfort him. God knew he'd been craving that—he couldn't even remember the last time his dad had hugged him—but he didn't want it right now, not if his dad was just doing it out of obligation because Jon couldn't stop crying like a baby.
At that thought, uncontrollable sobs overtook him once again.
Clark felt sick to his stomach. This really wasn't like Jonathan. "Son…"
"I-I wasn't selling drugs. I swear. I'm already in so...so much trouble for taking them, and you're already upset with me for having them, why would I lie?"
Clark nodded slowly. Jon had a point about that. "OK."
"Y-you don't believe me." He let out a couple more sobs, covering his face again.
"I believe you. I just wish you would tell us whose drugs they were."
"I…" Jon sat up a little straighter, lowering his hands from his face. Part of him was surprised his parents hadn't figured it out already. They must have known it was someone he cared about enough to take the fall for, up to and including arrest, expulsion from school, and the wrath of his parents. Someone who needed the money and would feel the consequences much worse than he would. "I can't."
Clark sighed. Lois had ranted in frustration about Jon's unwillingness to come forward about the identity of the dealer, but that was the one part of all of this that made perfect sense to Clark. It just wasn't something Jon would do if he thought he could protect one of his friends. He could almost see his way to being proud of his son for that. Almost.
"I wish… I wish this has never happened, I wish I never did this…"
"Well, that makes two of us, Jonathan."
It shouldn't have stung, but it did.
Clark was much slower and gentler about it this time. He let his hand rest on his son's back, so softly that Jon might not have known it was there if he couldn't see it.
Jon knew. He was very, very aware of his dad's touch. Part of him wanted to stiffen and pull away; part of him, desperately, ravenously, wanted to throw himself into his father's arms. He settled for remaining still. He sniffled. "I didn't even like it."
"Like what?"
"The X-K. I mean, it helped with football, but it made me like a whole different person, you know? I said some things to Jordan… I said I was better than him. I got in a fight with him, too, and I kind of… hit him, a lot."
Clark kept his voice as soft and unintimidating as he could, and he kept his hand in place, but he said, "Oh, Jonathan. That's very disappointing."
"I know. I'm sorry. "
"Why'd you do it?" He gently stroked the back of Jon's shoulder with his thumb.
Jon shrugged. "It's like I told Mom. Everyone in this family is great at something, and I used to be great at football. I remember all those times you told me you were proud of me, and I guess I...I just wanted to hear that again."
Clark's heart sank into his stomach. He tried to remember the last time he had said those words to Jonathan, other than at the game. He lowered his head and slid a little closer to his son, wrapping his arm around him fully.
Jon gave up the fight. He relaxed into his father's hold. "I'm not going to keep doing it. It's not worth it. I still want you to be… Proud, but… I wanna earn that, you know?"
"You don't have to—"
"No, I want to. Just with everything that happened last year, I know things have been really good with Jordan, and you're like really proud of him, and he's earned it."
Clarks swallowed. Jonathan really believed he had to earn that. Where had Clark gone wrong? Obviously, he'd been neglecting one of his kids for far too long. "Jonathan…"
Jon shook his head. "I mean, not like I'm, like, jealous, I'm over that, I swear I am, I know it was a really hard year for him and I didn't make it any easier, but… he's gonna follow in your footsteps, he's gonna be a hero, and… I just want to figure out what my thing is. Something I can do, without drugs or powers, and make you like... actually proud. Of me."
A long silence passed, Clark listening and watching for every sign now. Jon seemed resigned. He didn't appear to be trying to hold back tears anymore; his heart rate has slowed. He wasn't trying to get attention. He really believed what he was saying. "Jonathan, do you think we're more proud of your brother than of you?"
Jon didn't even know how to respond to that. It was just one of those unspoken realities, something to they didn't talk about, because what was the point? It was obvious, and it was painful. Not that Jon had any right to feel jealous. It wasn't Jordan's fault.
Clark's breath caught. Disappointment in his son had given way for a deeper and far more painful disappointment in himself. He had driven his child to this. Made him so desperate for his father's pride and affection that he had gone against everything he had ever learned.
Clark couldn't let the behavior go—there was too much at stake—but right now, anything he did would only make the situation worse if he didn't lay down a better foundation.
"Son," he said, moving his hand up to card through his son's hair. "I think it's time we talk about some of those... important things I thought you already knew."
