A/N: This chapter is dedicated to all my reviewers--especially Volucris12! I'm not entirely sure how many chapters this fic will be, but there will be at least two more. I hope you enjoy this latest installment...and as always--PLEASE REVIEW! THANKS!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of it! The song belongs to The Fray and the characters belong to a bunch of people that are not me...
Between the Lines
Let
him know that you know best
Cause
after all you do know best
Try
to slip past his defense
Without
granting innocence
Lay
down a list of what is wrong
The
things you've told him all along
And
pray to God he hears you
She studied the man sitting across from her with a look only a mother could give. It didn't matter that he was over a foot taller than her slight frame and had abilities she could only dream of. She was his mother and that meant it was her job to keep him in perspective.
He had gotten very good at putting up walls over the years, only letting what he wanted people to see be shown, but she broke through all those walls to see what he was hiding—the uncertainty, guilt, and loneliness. She wasn't a fool who didn't see her child's flaws and would never let him shirk his responsibility or allow him to blame his mistakes on others. But she didn't have to make him suffer long. He made himself suffer far more than she thought necessary at times anyway. He was a good child after all. Always had been. Even at his age—nearly thirty-five!—he still managed to only hear what he wanted—both literally and figuratively.
She had wanted to tell him all those years ago that he shouldn't do anything hasty, that he should think through this extended absence, but she hadn't. His father, Jonathan, would have. Jonathan had never hesitated to speak his mind to his son, especially when he thought his son was in the wrong or about to make a mistake. She only prayed he would hear everything she said and those things she didn't.
He had made mistakes just like anyone. He had succumbed to a human need to see for himself, to find himself. It had hurt people and those consequences were now causing him pain and guilt, but she couldn't allow him to wallow in self-pity. No, sir! Her son did not wallow!
She straightened a little, slipping her delicate, frail fingers beneath his chin and looked him in the eye. Despite his mistakes he was a good man. He had left for a very long time, it was true, left behind people he should not have, but no one could turn back the clock and she had to make him understand that. He needed to get on living life.
She would get him to see reason, she always did. Martha Kent was a stubborn woman and an even more determined mother. She would put him in his place then set him on the right path again. And he would listen to her. He always did.
After all, mother knows best.
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