Chapter 4
Tess had a point but he was loath to admit it. He was hiding behind his cape, hiding from his friends and from his life.
Clark stood on the footpath outside the Daily Planet gazing up at the multistorey building. The bronze façade he'd walked through a thousand times glared at him, a little more worn that he remembered. People entered and left the revolving doors, not even glancing at the tall, dark haired man with the black glasses.
It felt strange to wear the glasses again, heavy yet comforting but it was necessary. It was a part of Clark Kent, a part of him. Lois would murder him if he forgot such an integral piece of his disguise. She wouldn't be there to frantically mime 'glasses' at him when he forgot anymore. He'd have to remember for himself.
A familiar figure walked out the doors. "Kent!" Perry called as he walked over to the younger man.
"Perry? How did you know I was here?" Clark asked, confused. For a human, it would be impossible to see him from Perry's 15th floor office.
"I'm Chief Kent. I know everything." Perry replied evenly, now standing beside Clark. "I take it Tess talked some sense into you."
"In a manner of speaking," Clark said, staring up at the building. He could see his office on the 10th floor and the dust that had gathered in his absence.
"Good. You're too good a reporter to spend your days as a farmer." Perry remarked. "I'm still awaiting your Pulitzer winning piece."
Clark glanced at his boss. "I'm not even in the building yet."
"But you will be. You just need a swift kick to get you there," Perry told him. "You are smart kid Kent, just a little lost."
"More than a little Chief." Clark admitted softly, stuffing his hands sullenly into his dress trousers' pockets.
"So go in there and find your way." Perry gave him a pat on the back that could have passed for a slight push. "And don't call me Chief!"
Clark almost chuckled. "Yes sir." He took a few steps forward then paused. He took a deep breath to calm himself and walked through the door. Clark Kent was back.
Clark completed his last fly over a relatively quiet Metropolis, grateful for the lack of calls for help. Being the intrepid reporter was more tiring than he remembered.
He veered west. Heading towards familiar rows of con as the world passed below him in a blur of dark blues and greens with the occasional street light guiding his way. Clark heard Jonathan crying before he reached the farm. He shouldn't be up at this hour, he thought worriedly.
A soft melodic voice started singing. "Hush little baby, don't say a word. Tessa's gonna buy you a mocking bird." Clark landed lightly on the front step. Through the open door he saw Tess turn towards him as she kept on singing. "And if that mocking bird don't sing, Tessa's gonna buy you a diamond ring." She was pacing up and down the lounge room holding Jonathan to her chest and tracing small circles on his back.
"Hasn't he gone to sleep yet?" Clark asked walking into the room.
"Nightmare," Tess answered quietly between verses of the nursery rhyme. Jonathan hiccuped into her shoulder, his cries dying down. "There's spaghetti on the stove." She nodded towards the kitchen.
"Thanks. I'm starving." Clark ambled to the stove, heating the pot with his heat vision as he went. He grabbed a spoon and dug in.
"There's this little human device you may have heard of called a bowl…" Tess trailed off teasingly, a small smile playing on her lips. As soon as she stopped moving, Jonathan started to fuss.
"Do you want me to take him?"
"No. I'm good." Tess went back to pacing up and down the kitchen, humming under her breath. "I see your wearing glasses again."
"Am I?" Clark took them off and put them on the kitchen table. "I forgot I was wearing them. I went to the Planet today."
Her eyes widened with surprise. "I thought…"
"I needed to." Clark said between mouthfuls. "I didn't realise how much I missed it." He was downplaying the event and they both knew it.
"Lois would be happy." Tess told him then continued on hesitantly. "Clark… I'm sorry if I was a bit hard on you."
"You were. But I needed it. I need someone to keep me in line on the straight and narrow."
She looked at him with sombre eyes. "I'm hardly straight and narrow. My moral compass is so screwed up south became north."
"But now it's mostly north again. You're trying. We're both trying." Clark said sincerely. "I noticed that you didn't include yourself on the list of people I trust. You should."
She froze; her eyes lit up with surprise and a hint of happiness. She opened her mouth but no sound came out.
"I trust you with my son. That's the ultimate trust." He told her simply.
"Clark..." She didn't know what to say. Jonathan started to cry and she went back to pacing. Her mind was racing. He trusts me. He trusts me.
"We may have had a tumultuous start but we're friends now. How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"I know it's just…" She struggled to find words. "Hard," she finished lamely.
Clark nodded, somewhat understanding. He'd heard and pieced together enough about Tess' past to comprehend the trust issues at play. They fell into a companionable silence only broken by Jonathan's occasional whimpers. Clark spoke up suddenly. "I haven't said thank you have I?"
She shook her head, confused. "What?"
"For everything."
Tess frowned. "Clark it's two am. You're gonna have to be less cryptic."
"You've practically been raising Jonathan since Lois… got sick and keeping everything here going. You and Oliver organised the funeral. You take care of me when I need it and I haven't said thank you."
"What's gotten into you? You're acting like…"
"Clark?" He offered and she nodded. "Maybe it's sinking in that this is the hand I was dealt so now I have to deal with it."
He could feel her eyes analysing him as if trying to see his soul. "If you say so." She yawned.
He walked towards her. "Here I'll put Jonathan to bed. You sit before you fall over."
She passed over the now sleeping baby. "I'm not that tired."
"Sit," he ordered. She obeyed, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table. "Good girl."
She pulled a face at his patronisation at his back disappearing up the stairs.
Clark walked into the blue nursery and to the cot under the windowsill, navigating the litter of toys on the floor. "I guess you were a busy boy today, huh?" He gently lowered his son in the cot and pulled the thin summer blanket over his shoulder. He kissed his forehead. "Sleep well Buddy."
He went back downstairs to find Tess asleep at the kitchen table, her head resting atop her arms. He picked her up gently, careful not to wake her. She tensed immediately and started to stir. "Relax Tess. It's just me." He whispered softly. She relaxed slightly and fell back asleep. Clark carried up her up the stairs bridal style.
She seemed lighter than he remembered and he could feel her ribs through the cotton T-shirt she wore. I'm going to have to take better care of you, he thought. He walked back into the nursery and put her on the camp bed that she'd claimed for herself when she started staying the night. She curled up automatically into the foetal position as Clark pulled a sheet over her.
He left the room noiselessly. He stopped at the doorway, peering back in at his sleeping son and friend. A sudden idea struck him and he immediately knew how to say thank you properly.