AN: Thanks so much for all the kind words of support! Just like last time, I want to make it clear to my readers that I don't think this is how things will happen at all, but it's a very interesting "what if" scenario. And just like "Shadow of Father" I'm amazed that so many of you enjoy the torture. It's going to start picking up a bit really soon, I promise. I hope from this you all can better understand where Jason's bitterness and anger comes from.

Updates might be slow coming, I'm sorry to say. I just started rehearsal for Beauty and the Beast as the musical director and it's eating up all my writing time at night. But I promise to not leave you all hanging for too long. I have this fic pretty much all planned out, so I should be able to work though it better than normal. I just wanted you to know should you wonder about the updates.

Many many thanks to htbthomas and Hellish for the beta read. Where would I be without you two? I would be in verb tense Hell, that's where I would be! LOL!

Age 8 – From Father to Son

It was bad, and it was all my fault. Mom and Dad weren't even talking to each other, and no matter what they said, I knew it was my fault. I'd done something…awful…and they were mad at me for it.

I walked down the stairs to find my mom sitting alone in the living room, drinking some wine. It was afternoon, and mom only drank in the afternoon when she was upset. There were tears in her eyes, which really got me worried since mom hardly ever cries.

"Mom?" I said quietly.

She sniffed and looked at me. "Hi, honey."

I wasn't sure how to ask her what I needed to ask her, so I just said, "Are things okay?"

"Oh, munchkin, your dad's just a little angry right now. He needs time to cool off."

"Is it because of me?"

Her face went white. "What do you mean?"

"Because of what I did?"

Her lips pursed together. "Your dad isn't angry at you, Jason. He's angry at me."

I frowned. "But you didn't do anything!"

"Yes, I did." She rested her face in her hands. "I kept a secret from him – a very important secret. Something I should have told him about years ago. When I first suspected."

I bit my lip at the mention of secrets. I was keeping a few big secrets about Superman, and even some about what happened at school, and I'd worried a few times that maybe keeping secrets was the wrong thing to do. Hearing Mom talk about keeping secrets from Dad only made me worry that much more. Maybe I should tell her.

But then, I didn't want Superman to think he couldn't trust me. Maybe I shouldn't tell her. I was starting to see that having a secret wasn't as exciting as I used to think it was.

I didn't want to think about my secrets, though. I was too worried about my family. "Where is Dad?" I suddenly asked.

She looked out the window to the place where Dad's plane floated on the water. "He's been out there all night. I think he's almost got it fixed."

I started to feel panicked. "Is he going somewhere? He's not leaving, is he?"

"I don't know," Mom answered, which didn't make me feel any better.

I felt my eyes grow hot with tears. "Are you sure it isn't me?"

Mom frowned at me, still looking worried. "Oh, Jason - "

"'Cause I won't do it again!" I said, the words falling out of my mouth before I could even think about it. "I promise! I don't even really know how I did it the first time, so I know I'll never do it again!"

"Jason - " Mom grabbed my shoulders.

"I didn't mean to do it! I just wanted to help! I didn't know I would break it!"

"Jason, that's enough."

My chin began to shake. "Really, Mom. I'm sorry."

She sighed and pulled me to her, hugging me and stroking my hair. "You didn't do anything wrong, sweetheart."

But I had done something wrong. I'd done lots of things wrong lately. About a month ago, I was playing baseball with some kids at school and I really wanted to show them I was a decent player. I meant to throw the ball to the pitcher, but ended up throwing the ball over the school. I didn't know how I was able to throw that hard, but the kids all whined at me for losing the ball like that. About a week later, I was messing around with Chris Donaldson's new bat and I accidentally broke it at the handle. The kids all started calling me names and none of them will let me play with their things anymore. I told my mom what had happened – both times – and both times she told me to just be more careful and not to say anything about it to my Dad.

Then a week ago, I was getting in the plane with Dad when he told me to make sure the door was shut tight.

"You have to really slam it, Jason," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "I know. I know!"

"Pull hard!" he ordered.

I pulled the handle with all of my might, wanting to show my Dad that I wasn't the baby he thought I was. The door slammed shut, shattering the frame and rocking the plane hard enough that water splashed onto the deck.

Dad's eyes were wild. "What did you do?"

"I don't know?" It was then that I noticed the handle of the door was still in my hands.

"How…?" Dad moved to the door, examining the damage in confusion. "How…? It's as if…"

He didn't finish his sentence. In fact, he froze in place for a second before turning around to face me. My dad looked down at me in a way I'd never seen before, as if he'd never looked at me before. It frightened me so much I didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry," was all I managed to say.

He continued to look at me in that strange, new way.

"I break things," I mumbled, "when I try too hard."

He squinted at me. "This has happened before?"

"I've never broken the plane before."

"But you break other things?"

I nodded yes, thinking of the bat and the baseball…and a certain piano from a long time ago.

"I don't suppose," Dad said slowly, "that you could open the door?"

I bit my lip. I wasn't sure how I closed the door, let alone how I would be able to open it.

"Come here, Jason," he instructed, still looking at me with that unusual expression. "Put your hands on the door and push really hard. Let's see if that will do it."

"But I don't want to…" I mumbled.

He took a deep breath. "It's the only way we can get out of the plane."

I nodded and slowly walked back to the door. I gave him the handle and placed my hands on the door, spreading my fingers wide and keeping my palms flat. I looked over at Dad, wanting to ask if I really should try to do this. As if he heard my mind, he nodded his head yes.

"Push, Jason," he said softly.

I pushed – hard -- and the door fell away.

Outside, my mom came running up from the house. "What happened?"

"Jason broke the door," Dad explained slowly.

Mom looked shocked. "Jason did this?"

"Yes, Lois." His voice sounded angry. "Your eight-year-old son just broke the door."

Mom gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

"So, that's it, then?" Dad said, which I didn't understand. "That's it, isn't it?"

"Richard," she whispered. "I – I'm sorry…"

"No!" Dad said harshly. "No! You don't get to be sorry."

He jumped out of the plane and stomped into the house, slamming the door behind him.

Ever since then, Mom and Dad haven't really spoken to each other. They will talk to me, though, which I think is really strange since I'm the one that broke the plane. I thought for certain that Dad would be angry at me, but he keeps saying the same things Mom says. It's not my fault. I didn't do anything wrong. But since this all started when I broke the plane, I can't help but blame myself.

Now, as my mom hugged me and told me everything was going to be all right, I wanted more than anything to make sure she was telling the truth. I pulled away from her and ran out the door to where Dad was working on the plane.

"Don't leave!" I yelled as I ran.

Dad turned around, startled. "What?"

"Don't leave. Please. Don't leave because of me."

His face softened. "Jason, I'm not leaving. And even if I did, it wouldn't be because of you."

"But you're mad at me. You're mad at Mom. And you won't talk to her. I'm so sorry for what I did, and I'll do anything you want me to do to make it better. And I know Mom is sorry for whatever she did, too. But you can't leave." I felt the tears fall down my cheeks. "You have to give us another chance."

He licked his lips and knelt down to look me in the eyes. "I'm not leaving, Jason."

"You're not?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm just…angry. And I'm…sad."

"Because I broke the plane?"

"No," he said quietly. "I know that you didn't mean to. Your mom…your mom told me…what was going on."

That didn't make me feel much better. "She told you everything?"

He blinked slowly. "Oh, yeah. She told me…everything."

I couldn't hold it back. The tears started pouring out of my eyes like a waterfall. If he knew everything, then he knew…about the piano. Dad wrapped his arms around me and tried to calm me down.

"It's okay. Shhhh," he whispered. "We'll get through this."

"Will you help me?" I mumbled into his shirt. "I don't want to break anything else."

"I don't know if I can help you."

I pulled away from him, looking up into his face. "But…you're my dad. You and Mom…aren't you supposed to help me?"

His face became very hard, as if he was trying not to frown but couldn't help it. He hugged me again, much more tightly than he had held me earlier.

"I love you so much, Jason. So much."

"I love you, too."

I heard Mom come up beside us. Dad looked up at her and then back down at me. "I'm not leaving you. Things might be hard, but I'm not leaving you. For as long as you want me – both of you – you will have me. As far as I know, I still have a wife," he said, glancing up at Mom. "And I have…" His voice cracked and he started crying. I'd never seen Dad cry before. "I have a son," he added quietly, hugging me again.

I don't know why, but things got better after that. It wasn't totally back to normal, but at least Mom and Dad were talking again. In fact, I could have sworn I heard my dad say something one night like, "She's my wife now," but I didn't know who he was talking to. It didn't much matter to me, anyway, just as long as he wasn't fighting with Mom. Just as long as we were a family.

But it did make me wonder if they had told Superman what I had done to the plane, because he stopped coming to my window so often. Truth be told, I didn't miss him like I thought I would. Superman was great, but I liked the fact that my dad was spending more time with me now. That might sound crazy to most kids my age, but I'd like to have my dad right now rather than Superman.