Chapter 37 - Anger management

Martha's heart pounded as she followed her husband up the stairs. She knew Clark was in for a lecture, and she hated it, even though she knew it was necessary.

Of course, there was a lot that she and Jonathan didn't understand yet, which meant much of the conversation would be for clarification. There would certainly be many things about which they could encourage their son. But Clark had definitely done wrong as well, which meant Jonathan probably wouldn't be able to avoid scolding him.

She knew Clark hated being lectured, and Jonathan hated lecturing him. Grounding and extra chores were a formality—they all knew the guilt trip was the real punishment. And it was right for Clark. When Jonathan followed up a scolding with gentleness and encouragement, it ultimately left Clark stronger and more resolved to do better in the future. During the conversation, though, Martha knew her son would be in a lot of pain, and it would be difficult for her to watch.

Clark sat on the side of his bed resting his elbows against his knees when Martha and Jonathan came into the room. Martha sat beside him on the bed, while Jonathan sat across from him on a chair.

"Hi Dad," Clark said.

Jonathan cleared his throat. "Your mother told me you had a bit of a disagreement with Lex today."

Clark swallowed and nodded.

"I'm going to ask you some questions about the details. Okay, Clark?"

"Okay."

Jonathan gave Martha a quick glance, and she nodded for him to continue. "Your mother says you found a room in Lex's mansion with some evidence about your secret."

"Yeah."

"It sounds like Lex wasn't with you when you found that room," Jonathan said. "How did you find it?"

"I broke in." His voice was little more than a whisper.

"Into the mansion, or the room?"

"Both, kind of. I didn't actually break anything to get into the mansion, I just sped through the guards when they weren't looking. But I broke the lock into that room."

Jonathan nodded slowly. "What was in the room?"

"There were pictures of our family, and the cave walls, and some of the things Lex and I have been through together."

"Like what?"

"There was a video simulation of me getting hit by Lex's car when we first met."

Jonathan nodded. "Your mother tells me you didn't get much of an explanation from him about why he had all of those things."

"He started to, but . . ."

"But what?"

"I guess I cut him off. It seemed pretty self-explanatory to me."

"Oh? Maybe you can explain it to me, then."

"He's never really been my friend. He just wanted to know my secret."

Martha squinted. "That doesn't sound quite right to me, Clark," she said. "Hasn't he risked his life for yours a few times?"

"Okay, but that doesn't change the fact that he's been manipulating me and lying to me."

"That's possible." Jonathan kept his tone light and conversational. "Maybe he really was betraying your friendship, maybe he never stopped sending investigators after us. Or maybe it was more like what Chloe does with her Wall of Weird. Maybe he was just trying to figure out the truth about all of the impossible things he's seen." Jonathan leaned forward a little. "But you don't know what he was trying to do, because you didn't ask."

Clark's breath caught in his throat. "Does it matter? He's trying to figure out my secret. I have to stop him."

Martha jumped in: "Clark, do you think getting upset with him whenever he asks questions is going to stop him from looking into things?"

Clark flinched. "No."

"Probably not," Jonathan said. "And of course it matters, Clark. A friend's personal betrayal is a serious thing, very different from wanting to know the truth."

Clark threw Jonathan an indignant look. "Are you taking his side?"

"No. I'll have to hear his side before I can make any decisions about why he did what he did, just like I'm doing with you. When he comes home, I'm going to have quite a few questions for him, and there might be consequences for his actions, too." Jonathan's voice hardened a little. "But we're not talking about whether he was right or wrong, or how wrong he was. We're talking about how you handle it when you get angry with someone."

Clark looked down. "Yes, sir."

"Clark, what did you do today when you got angry?"

"I hit Lex," he mumbled to his shoes.

"Your mother tells me you made him bleed."

Clark nodded.

"Look at me and say it, son."

Martha ached to take Clark's hand, but now wasn't the time. His seafoam eyes met Jonathan's stony blue ones. "I hit Lex." His eyes watered. "Do I have to say the rest?"

"Yes."

Clark swallowed. "I—I made him bleed." A single tear fell. "I'm so sorry, Dad."

Martha couldn't resist putting a hand on Clark's back, rubbing softly. He seemed to relax a little into her hand—as difficult as the confession part was for him, he always seemed to breathe easier once it was off his chest.

Jonathan's his voice became gentle. "What did he say that made you so angry?"

"I told him he'd inherited his father's deception, and he . . . basically said the same thing back to me."

Martha let her breath out. Her heart broke for both of her sons, the impossible situation they were in, and the amount of pain they had each suffered today. She could see a flicker of pride in her husband's eyes—Clark had been protecting his honor, after all—but it quickly melted into sternness. "What did you do after you hit him?"

"Nothing. I just left."

Jonathan took a deep breath. "Son, you need to listen to me."

Clark wiped his eyes.

"I know our fall out with Lex has been hard on you. We had to make some tough choices, decisions no fifteen-year-old should ever have to face. I'm proud of you for going to try to make things right. In the future, I don't want to hear about you breaking and entering, but I know what you were trying to do, and it was a good thing."

The slightest hints of a smile played with Clark's eyes and lips.

"I can't imagine how difficult it must have been to walk into that room. He's withdrawn from our family for our dishonesty with him, so to find out that he's been less than honest with you must have been agonizing."

Clark's eyes shone once again.

"I don't tell you this enough, but I want to say again how proud I am of who I see you becoming every day. I can't tell people about your powers, or about the lives you save, but I always brag about your other strengths. Your compassion, your care for your friends, and the way you never give up on people."

Martha took his hand. Clark tensed when she did, and she knew why. He knew the lecture was coming.

"Then today, you got angry with a friend. And you did the exact opposite of what I would expect and hope you would do."

Clark's hand shook in hers. He never gripped it hard, like Lex had when he was being scolded, but his shaking let her empathize with him, and she knew he found her hand comforting.

"Lex hurt you, I understand that. Believe me, I do. But you didn't ask for an explanation. You didn't listen when he started to explain himself. You told him he was like his father, which you should know are the most painful words you could ever speak to him. Then when he rose to your bait, you rose to his, and you hit him."

Clark hung his head.

"Look at me."

Clark looked back up, and Martha tightened her hold on his hand a little. She understood why Jonathan made his son look him in the eye to be scolded—he needed to be able to see when he was getting through so he didn't push too hard—but she also knew it was harder for Clark.

"We've talked before about how dangerous your powers can be. You can't afford to lose control of your temper. I know you and I have a lot in common, but until today, I've always been so impressed by your ability to temper your anger with understanding and kindness."

He looked Clark deep in the eyes, and Clark cringed.

"I know you've hit people before—in self defense, or in defense of others, or to keep them from discovering your secret. It's incredibly dangerous for you to use violence in any situation, which is why we gave you alternate strategies for keeping your secret in emergencies. As for defense, I thought I could trust your judgement."

Clark lowered his eyes to the hand Martha held.

"No. Look at me." Jonathan's voice was suddenly sharp, and he waited for Clark to look up. "When we had those conversations, I didn't think to ask whether you'd ever hit anyone out of anger. I just assumed you knew how incredibly unacceptable and dangerous that would be. You're not in control of your strength when you're angry. No one is."

"I know—"

"If there hadn't been Kryptonite in that room, Lex could be dead right now. Is that what you wanted?"

"Of course not!" Clark squeezed his eyes shut.

"Look at me, son, I'm not going to tell you again." Jonathan's tone hardened, and he waited for Clark's eyes to open. "If I ever hear about you hitting someone again, for any reason other than defense or absolute necessity, the consequences will be severe. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Clark choked out.

Jonathan shook his head. "I've never been so disappointed by your choices, son."

Tears streamed down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Dad, I'm so sorry, I—" His voice caught, and his shoulders shook with sobs.

Jonathan sat down on the other side and put an arm around Clark's shoulders. Martha pulled Clark's head down onto her shoulder, stroking her fingers through her hair. She always did this at this point in the lecture. The truth was, it wasn't for him—it was to give her a chance to blink back her own tears. Even though it was necessary for Clark to feel the weight of his actions, she hated watching him hurt.

"I forgive you, son," Jonathan said, squeezing his shoulder. "Your mother and I both do. We love you very, very much. You're still an incredible young man, and we're so proud of you."

That only made Clark cry harder. Martha kissed his forehead, and Jonathan moved his hand to rub Clark's back. They let a few minutes pass, comforting him gently while he worked through his emotions.

"Hey," Jonathan said. "Listen."

Clark sat up and looked at his father.

"I forgive you. But I'm not the one whose forgiveness you need."

Clark sniffed. "Lex will never forgive me."

"That's a very real possibility. But there's something that you need to ask yourself first."

"What?"

"Are you going to forgive him?"

Clark wiped away his tears. "I want to know why he did it."

"Of course."

"But . . ." He sighed. "I can forgive him if he can forgive me. When I saw him bleeding . . . it reminded me of that time I walked in on him after his father hit him."

"Oh, son." The love in his eyes was unmistakable.

Clark turned toward his father, melting into his arms.

"You're a good kid, Clark. You made a mistake and lost your temper. That doesn't make you Lionel. Actually, it makes you a lot like me."

"I know," Clark said. "I just feel terrible."

Over Clark's bowed head, Jonathan exchanged a glance with Martha. It was the look they always exchanged after the lecture part was done. If Clark was to expect any further discipline, they needed to tell him now, but Martha and Jonathan wouldn't have time to talk about it.

They usually only followed up the lecture with a punishment if Clark still needed it to learn from his mistakes. Martha was absolutely confident he had learned his lesson already, but today, the problem was the opposite. He was so wracked with guilt that she wasn't sure letting him off the hook would be merciful.

To Jonathan, she merely nodded. She trusted him to know what she meant.

"Okay, Clark." He patted Clark's back, and Clark let go and sat up. "You're going to write Lex a letter. You're going to apologize for breaking into his house, offer to pay for the replacement of the locks, and ask if the two of you can sit down sometime so you can understand why he has everything in that room."

Clark nodded. "I don't think he'll let me deliver the letter."

"I'll deliver it," Martha told him. "Lex's head of security likes me. He won't let me in if Lex has ordered no visitors, but I think I can persuade him to deliver a letter if I explain the situation."

"Is that all I have to do? Write the letter?" Clark looked fearful, but also like he hadn't expected the consequences to be so light.

"No," Jonathan said. "You're coming straight home after school every day for the next week, and you're confined to the farm for the rest of this weekend and next. You're going to have quite a bit of extra work."

Martha added, "After you finish handwriting a ten-page essay about how you're going to handle it next time you get angry."

Clark winced. Martha knew a week's grounding wasn't terribly harsh for doing something that could have killed his brother, but it wouldn't be pleasant, either, especially with the extra work. As much as she hated to see her son looking so forlorn, she was encouraged that he had shifted from being guilty about his own actions, to being unhappy about the consequences. That meant his mind would view it as sufficient punishment, and he'd stop berating himself.

Jonathan tousled Clark's hair, and both parents wrapped an arm around their son. Martha kissed him on the cheek, feeling her husband's strong arm pressed against hers on Clark's back, and just for a moment, she felt like maybe things would be okay.