Chapter 3 - Reminders
This time, Jon's breath did quicken, his heart rate speeding up. "I know, Dad, I swear I know. I shouldn't have taken drugs, I shouldn't have even thought about it." His voice cracked. "And I shouldn't have yelled at Jordan, I shouldn't have hit him, I gotta stop being jealous, and I shouldn't have thought I could use drugs to earn your… your..."
Throughout his speech, his father let go of him, stood from the bed, and came to kneel in front of him.
Jon's eyes were starting to water again. "Please… I know, I swear, I just messed up…"
His dad placed both hands over Jon's knees, looking him in the eye.
John looked down. "I'm sorry…" Why couldn't his dad just ground him and get it over with? That would hurt so much less than whatever he was about to say.
"Son, look at me."
"I already know. I know everything you're going to say—"
"Jonathan."
Jon looked up at him. "Please—"
"I love you."
Jon stopped breathing. That was the last, the absolute last thing he was expecting to hear. A silent tear traced its way down his cheek.
At the look on his son's face, Clark's own eyes began to sting. He had absolutely failed. His son really didn't know. Clark shifted a little closer and tipped up Jonathan's chin, forcing him to look him in the eye. "Son, how could you…" His voice crackled. "How could you think I could not love you?"
Jon sniffed and wiped his face, but new tears poured down both cheeks. He had needed to hear the words for so long; did he dare believe them now? "It's just… with Jordan…"
"What about him? I love him too. Do you think I love you less?"
"I mean, I don't know, he's got, like, your whole Kryptonian heritage and everything…"
"You think you don't? Just because you don't have powers? You really think that makes you any less worthy?"
"I-I don't know…"
"You're my son, Jonathan."
"I know, but you said… you just said I misrepresented our family. And I know how much I disappointed you and mom, and I get it, I wouldn't expect you to be happy with me."
"That has nothing to do with… Jonathan, you know we love you no matter what, right? There's nothing you could do to make us stop."
Jon hung his head, burying his face in his hands once again.
"Hey. Hey. And what's all this about me not being proud of you?"
"Y-you don't… say it…"
"Well, that's my mistake, and I'm sorry. I am so proud of you, Jonathan Kent."
Jonathan's blood shot eyes fixed on Clark's.
The words burned. Jon didn't deserve them, anymore than he had the night of the game, but they felt even worse now than they had then. "Why?"
"Because of the person you're growing up to be. You came out to Smallville and gave up everything in your old life without a complaint because you know it would be better for Jordan. You work hard in school, and you're generally very respectful of your mother and me. You care about your brother, you're quick to forgive, you're always the first to try to make peace. You own up to your mistakes. You're a good kid, Jonathan."
"You were just telling me how-how disappointed you are."
"Yeah, I am. And you know what, I wouldn't be if I didn't know you could do better, because I've seen you do better, almost every day for the rest of your life. I'm angry because I'm proud of you, not because I'm not." He slowly lifted his hand to Jon's head, cradling the side of it.
Jon just stared at his father. He still wasn't sure he believed it, but the hand against the side of his head felt so warm and comforting and assuring.
For a second, Clark felt exasperated, struggling to figure out a better way to get through to his son when his words didn't seem to be changing anything.
And then he realized, one thing had changed. Jon was leaning into his father's touch.
Paternal instinct kicked in. Clark tapped his fingers against the side of his son's head before lowering his hand and standing. "Stand up," he said.
"Dad?"
"Come on. Up."
Jon stood hesitantly, and Clark placed one hand on his shoulder and one on his cheek. "You listening to me?"
Once again, Jon couldn't look away from his father's eyes. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He knew what was coming next. His dad had said some nice things to soften the blow of what was coming next. "Y-yes sir."
"Jonathan…" His father's eyes filled with tears, and his voice trembled. "I am so, so sorry. I thought you knew how much your mother and I love you, and how proud we are. And if you really didn't know, that's on me. I will do everything I can to make it up to you."
Jon didn't have time to start crying again before his father pulled him into a tight embrace.
Clark could feel his son's whole body trembling against him. He held him closer, careful to control his strength. He kept one hand firm around Jonathan's rib cage and brought the other one up to rub circles on his back, then up to his neck, kneading away tension, feeling him relax deeper and deeper into his father's hold. "I'm here, son. Let it out."
John couldn't hold back anymore. Up to this point, every time he had shed tears, he had kept his sobs silent. Now, though, it wasn't just pain he was feeling. It was the unbelievable relief of knowing that everything was going to be OK, that he hadn't ruined everything with his family. They didn't hate him, they still loved him, they were still even proud of him, even though there was no way he could deserve that, no way he could earn it… His sobs were tearing their way free as loud cries now, and there was nothing he could do to stop them. But with the way his father was holding him, closer and tighter even as he wept louder and harder, he couldn't even bring himself to be embarrassed. His dad's arms around him felt so, so good.
Clark couldn't hold his son any tighter without hurting him. He settled for resting his cheek in his son's hair, and bringing both hands to rest on his back. "I've got you." He pressed a kiss to the side of his son's head, something he hadn't done in years. "Let it out. I'm not going anywhere."
It took a long time. Long enough that Clark was starting to worry, starting to think about calling Lois in for reinforcement. But eventually, Jonathan's cries died down, reduced to occasional sniffles and a couple of last quiet sobs now and then. His grip loosened, and Clark let him go with one last caress through his hair.
All things considered, the kid didn't look bad. His eyes were red, the skin around them swollen, and he looked exhausted, but he didn't look like he was drowning in his own guilt anymore. He didn't look scared, either, which had been Clark's biggest concern. He didn't even sound particularly worried when he asked, "How much trouble am I in?"
"Let's wait to talk about that tomorrow. You're going to make those apologies, and then we're going to talk about what you can do to earn back our trust, because as much as we'd like it to be, that's not unconditional."
Jon wiped his eyes, nodding. "OK, Dad."
Clark searched his son's eyes. It was better than the distant, dejected Yes, sir from earlier, but Clark couldn't help but feel like there was still something he wasn't saying. "Something on your mind, Jon?"
Jon looked away. He didn't want to lose this, this closeness he felt with his father that he hadn't felt in a long time, but he wasn't willing to sell out Candice. "Um, so, like, when you… ground me… it's not gonna be like, I'm grounded until I tell you who gave me the drugs, is it?"
Clark gave his son a sad smile. He should have known Jon would still be worried about trying to protect his friend, whoever it was. "I have a feeling that would just lead to a lot of frustration for all of us, isn't it?"
"I wish I could tell you. But…"
"I know. I wish you could, too." Clark couldn't say it out loud, but he knew that wishing that was the same as wishing that his son would be more selfish. It wasn't the first time he had wished that about Jon. He had to hold back his pride—telling Jonathan that he was proud of him for covering for a drug dealer would send the wrong message, even if it was partially true. Aside from that, he never hear the end of it from Lois. "But tell you what. I still have to talk to your mother about your punishment, but I'm going to make sure that's not part of it. You're not in trouble for covering for your friend, even if we disagree with you. You're in trouble for your own poor decisions."
Jon winced. It stung to hear those words, but it was a different kind of sting compared to earlier, when he had been convinced that his parents were basically giving up on him.
"And Jonathan? No matter what, we're still going to love you. I don't want you to forget that again."
Jon shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It just sucked that it had taken him doing drugs and then breaking down crying in front of his dad to get his dad to remind him.
Mind reading had never been in Clark's repertoire of powers, but it wasn't a mystery to him what was on Jon's head. "But it's not your fault that you forgot this time. It's mine. I'm going to be reminding you a lot more often, OK?"
"OK." It was hard to get the word out.
Clark could tell from Jon's tone that he didn't really believe him. He couldn't blame him. Clark would just have to prove it. "And the next time you think about doing something you know we wouldn't approve of, whether that's... drugs, or alcohol, or skipping school, or whatever else, I want you to remember that, and make a better choice. Your mother and I love you, and we worry about you, and we're proud of the person you're growing up to be."
A very different kind of tears filled Jon's eyes. A new determination. He knew he had just spent several minutes in his father's arms, but he pressed his luck—he stepped forward to wrap his arms around his dad again.
Clark held Jon more gently this time. He hadn't expected Jon to hug him again so soon after he had just calmed down. But he supposed they were making up for lost time—if that excuse was even needed. Why did there have to be a reason for him to hug his son?
This hug was shorter—John didn't feel the need to hold on for as long—but he still felt a lot better by the time he let go.
Clark kept a hand on Jon's shoulder and looked him over one more time. The fear was gone without a trace; the guilt had died down; there wasn't even really sadness. Nothing but fatigue. He felt that. "It's been a long day. Why don't you get ready for bed?"
Jon nodded.
"Your mother and I will be in the kitchen if you need anything." At this point, all Clark wanted to do was sleep, too, but his kids were more important.
"OK," Jon said. "Um, Dad?"
"Yes, son?"
"When all of this is over… I mean, I don't know if you can, but maybe after I've been grounded and earned back your trust and all of that, do you think… w-will you and mom be able to, you know..."
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"I mean... if I were you, I would have a hard time forgiving me."
Clark's heart had already broken a half a dozen times that evening, but at this he felt broken again. "You're already forgiven. Always. The rest is just to help you do better."
Jon nodded, giving a little smile, and Clark just had to hope he believed him. "Get some sleep," he said, and he left the room.
Jon was tired, but he didn't feel like sleeping. Not just yet. He changed into sleep clothes and brushed his teeth, turned out the lights and climbed into bed.
Tomorrow was going to suck. He was going to have to apologize to his principal, his coach, and the football team, which would mean the whole school would hate him, if he managed to avoid getting expelled—and even if he was expelled, the whole town would hate him. His parents were probably going to yell at him again, and he was sure he'd be grounded for a month or longer. And he still had to work things out with Jordan, if Jordan even still wanted to talk to him. He knew it was all waiting for him. He knew he should be afraid.
But for some reason, his lips kept trying to smile.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Really hoping for a cathartic resolution to all of this in the show. I hope you'll let me know your thoughts! :-)
