AN: In chapter nine of "In the Shadow of my Father" Clark has this line:

"When you said you never wanted to see me again…that you hated me…I never thought you would ever say anything to me that could hurt more than that."

Ladies (and the few gents that are here) I now present to you THAT moment. And be warned, it's not nice at all. It's very bad and loaded with angst and anger and pain. As Hellish red Devil said in her beta, "Not only is he a naturally embittered young man when it comes to his "real" father, but he had one seriously bad day--and, let's not forget, he's a teenager. NEVER A GOOD COMBO."

The other warning I need to place on this chapter is that of adult content. Jason gets into a rather interesting er… position in this chapter, which starts the fight that leads to the breakdown that ends this chapter. Now you are doubly warned.

But hey, in spite of all that, thanks for sticking with me! LOL! Seriously. You have no idea how surprised I am that so many of you have come along for this horribly angsty ride. I know that you're all here for the promised pay off, right? The moment when Jason saves Superman maybe? It's coming. It will happen. There is happiness in store for them. I promise. And thanks to htbthomas and Hellish for the beat. You both rock my would. 4, 645

Age 17: Confronting Superman

The most humiliating and helpless feeling a high school student can experience is sitting outside of the principal's office while your mother is inside getting the lowdown on the horrible thing you did that earned you three days of in-school suspension. Add to that the stares and whispers of the remaining students and you've got yourself one heck of an awful day. I'd seen it happen a few times before – to other kids. But today, I was the one with the misfortune of being in the hot seat. And to top it all off, technically speaking, I hadn't really done anything wrong.

"Did you see what happened?"

"Who would have thought he could take out Collin."

"I heard he slept with Tiffani."

"Big deal. Who hasn't?"

"I heard Collin's in intensive care."

"I heard he might die."

"White doesn't even look like he has a scratch on him."

"Collin deserved it."

"He hit Jason first."

"It was cool. More people should fight in school."

"Do you think he'll be suspended?"

"I've never seen anything like it!"

"I can't believe he… Did he really sleep with her? I mean, are you sure?"

That last voice broke through all the other random voices the strongest. It was Meredith's voice. And I could hear the hurt behind her question. I looked around for her in vain, hoping to find her and explain that it wasn't what it looked like. Nothing like that had happened. Well, not nothing, but I didn't do that.

Her hip had bumped into mine while we were dancing around at Noah's party Friday night. That's how it had started. I didn't even do it on purpose. Everyone knew that Tiffani Kaye, spelled with an "I," as she endlessly reminded people in a useless effort to make her sound more classy or interesting or something, was the type of girl whose reputation was based on the fact that if you so much as showed an interest in doing anything slightly physical with her, she would gladly accommodate your needs. So when our hips touched, she instantly turned to look me over, size me up, and smile at me in that way that would make any guy stop in their tracks.

"Jason White!" she said over the loud music. "Just the kind of man I was looking for."

I'm sure any man's name could have been substituted for mine at that moment, but I had been caught. Her hands brushed up my chest and came to rest on my shoulders.

"Dance with me?"

"Um… I guess." What was I supposed to say? No thanks, you're too easy?

Her body snuggled up against mine as she started wiggling back and forth, to and fro and back again, like some crazed jackrabbit. She played with the hair at the nape of my neck. She looked up at me with those dark brown eyes of hers, flirting madly and smiling as innocently as she could.

Rising up on her tiptoes, she breathed into my ear and said, "You are hot, do you know that?" Purposefully, she slid back down to the floor, making sure to create an intimate friction between our bodies as she did so.

I was speechless. I didn't really like this girl, but there are certain things that a guy just can't control. The current physical state of my body was proof of that.

"I bet you have a great body," she observed, running her hands over my chest and again pressing her hips against mine. "Come with me," she ordered, grabbing my hand and pulling me around the corner and up the stairs.

It took the full journey up the steps for my mind to start functioning on all four cylinders again. "Wait," I said. "Where are we going?"

She smiled and bit her bottom lip, dragging me into one of the bedrooms. "In here."

I opened my mouth to complain but found that impossible once her mouth covered mine. She kissed me fully, deeply, with no indication that this was a first kiss. It'd taken Meredith and me weeks to work up to kissing like this. Yet here I was now with this girl I hardly knew and didn't even like, kissing her like I've never kissed anyone before.

She shoved me backwards and I tumbled down on the bed, surprised and completely flabbergasted that this was happening. The next thing I knew she was straddling me, kissing me, pulling her shirt over her head. I'd seen girls in bikini tops before, but there is just something very different about seeing a real, honest-to-goodness bra. My mind went blank as I felt how she rubbed and pressed against me.

"I always thought you were hot," she mumbled, biting at my ear and working her hands under my shirt to feel my skin. My eyes closed and I moaned in pleasure. I couldn't help it. She knew exactly what she was doing to me.

"You're a big boy, Jason," she mumbled against my mouth. "And I'm anxious to know just how big you really are."

I groaned as her hand made its way down to my groin. There was no hesitation to the way she explored my lower body. Expertly, she undid the snap on my jeans and slowly slid the zipper down. I was lost in a total pre-orgasmic experience that most guys my age only dream of. The way it felt left me arching upwards in an unspoken request for more. It was amazing. No one had ever touched me like that before – not even Meredith. I had wanted her to, and I was more than willing, I just was too afraid. I cared about Meredith too much to risk hurting her in any way.

Something snapped in my brain. What I was feeling was nothing outside of the physical. I didn't have any emotional connection at all to this half-naked girl on top of me. I thought she was a bit trampy, in fact, and yet I was letting her do things with me that I wouldn't even do with the girl I cared about most.

It took all my willpower to do it, but I somehow managed to start thinking with my brain again. I grabbed her hand and pulled my mouth away from hers. "No, stop it. We shouldn't do this."

She giggled. "Why not? Doesn't it feel good?" She squeezed her hand in demonstration.

I groaned. "Yes, but…"

"I know you want this. I want this. So let's just get it over with."

Get it over with? Had she really just said that? I forced my brain to take control of my body and wiggled out from under her. "I can't. I just can't. This isn't right."

She huffed. "What do you mean you can't?"

"I can't just…" I pulled my pants up and zipped them closed. "I don't even know you, Tiffani."

She laughed. "Yeah, you do. You just said I'm Tiffani. So long as you know it's with an 'I,' what else is there?"

I gaped at her. "There's a lot more."

"Oh, God," she growled, rolling her eyes. "You're not one of those wishy-washy types are you? Come on. I just want a good screw."

I was completely disgusted. "Well, I don't," I said in all honesty. "At least not with you."

That's how it happened. That's how it ended. I left the party feeling a bit shocked at myself for being so moral. I felt I'd done something decent, something I should be applauded for. I had a half-naked girl on my lap offering me sex, and I said no on the grounds that I didn't want my first sexual experience to be with someone I would never even say hello to in passing. I didn't tell Mom or Dad about it, though. I didn't dare. They might not see things as morally as I did. So the weekend progressed and I went to school Monday morning thinking nothing of it anymore.

That was a mistake.

I somehow missed the memo stating that Collin Morrison felt like he had dibs on Tiffani Kaye. Given that there were a handful of guys in the school who felt that way about her, too, it really shouldn't have mattered. But I guess it mattered to Collin.

He came bounding up to me while I was talking to Marcus at my locker, his face bright red, and he shoved me – hard. Hard enough for me to actually fall back into the lockers. Hard enough for me to feel it. And that's saying something, given that I normally have to pretend to feel it when someone hits me.

"Tiffani told me what you did," he lashed out. "And you are about to pay."

"What I did?" I said, getting my balance. "I didn't do anything."

"She said you called her a whore!" He shoved me again.

"I did not," I said, my anger growing.

"She said you banged her real good, and when you were done you said, 'Thanks for the screw, you whore.'"

I gaped at him. "That never happened!"

"You slept with Tiffani Kaye?" Marcus asked, completely flabbergasted.

"NO!"

"Wow," he sighed.

"I didn't sleep with her!" I insisted.

"Tiffani tells a different story, and now you're gonna pay for it," Collin warned.

He took a swing at me with one of his giant fists. Instinctively, I ducked and spun out of the way. His fist hadn't even come close to touching me, I was so fast.

Collin's eyes were wide in wonder. "How'd you do that?"

My breath hitched. I'd nearly given myself away. "Collin," I said, trying to draw attention away from what happened, "You don't want to fight me, okay. I'm a lot tougher than I look."

He snorted and before I could react, his fist pounded into my stomach. I let out a small "ohh" as some air left my body, but it was Collin who screeched in pain.

"Holy shit, I think you broke my hand!"

I held up my hands in a surrender gesture. "Collin, really. I didn't call her a whore and I certainly didn't sleep with her. You don't want to do this."

His face contorted and I could see the rage building inside of him. With his good hand, he took another swing at me. I turned quickly, and he somehow managed to follow me around and attempt another punch. I ducked just in time.

The group of students around us were yelling and calling out our names randomly – some rooting for him, some rooting for me. I looked up at him seriously, pleadingly. "Collin, you need to stop this."

"I need to teach you a lesson!" With his two hands together in what I'm sure was a painful grasp, he pummeled his fists down towards my head. I slid out of the way again, spun around, and came to a stop behind him.

"You think you're something, don't you?" he sneered. "All you're doing is drawing it out. Now stand still so we can get this over with."

"Funny, that's what Tiffani said to me the other night." It was a stupid thing to say, but it came out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Collin growled and then roared and charged full force at me. I knew he wouldn't give up. I knew he wasn't going to stop. The only way to put an end to it was if I stopped him myself. And so, in that instant, with him heading right for me and me having no one around to ask for guidance but myself, I made what was quite possibly the worst decision of my life.

I hit him.

I hit him harder than I intended to.

He fell backwards, moaning in agony and holding his side in pain. His howling drew the attention of some teachers, and before I knew it, fingers were being pointed at me as accusations flew left and right. I couldn't answer any of their questions. I could only stand there in amazement – in horror – at what I'd done. What I was capable of.

I didn't argue when they called me to the principal's office. I didn't put up a fight when they called Mom. I just sat and waited for the whole thing to pass before me. What could I say, anyway? I'm sorry? I have superpowers and can't control my own strength?

As I sat and waited for Mom to work out my punishment with the administration, I couldn't help but think how great everything had been up until now. My grades were great, I scored well on my college placement tests, and I even managed a date here and there. Nothing serious, but that was fine with me. I'd gone nearly a full six months without so much as a warning from my parents about anything. It'd been an easygoing year, smooth and relatively uneventful thus far. I had a major recital to prepare for as well as study for my finals, but other than that, the only thing giving me stress was the idea of finding someone to ask out to the annual Holiday Festival. I should have known better than to relax and think that life could continue like this for much longer. It's Murphy's Law that the moment you think things are good, the rug will be pulled out from under you when you least expect it.

The door to the office opened and Mom came out to collect me. I followed her to the car, not daring to talk because I hadn't thought up exactly what I was supposed to say. It wasn't until we were a good distance from school before I found the courage to actually speak up. Even then, "I'm sorry, Mom," was all I had come up with.

"I'm sorry, too, Jason. I hope you haven't ruined your chances of getting into a good school because of this."

I had been thinking the same thing.

"I can't believe it," she said softly, angrily. "I don't know what I'm more upset about – the hitting, or the idea of you making out with some girl at a party."

My head snapped around to look at her. "I didn't do anything."

"That's not what I was told."

"I swear, Mom, I didn't do anything with her. I told her no."

"Then why were you fighting over her?"

"Because she told Collin that we did, but I swear, Mom, we didn't!"

"Why would she say you did if you didn't?"

"I don't know, Mom. She's…" I wanted to say that she was trampy, but I didn't think using language like that would make Mom feel any better. "She's one of those girls, you know?"

She eyed me, doubting my story. I knew I'd have to give her more proof than that for her to believe me.

"Okay, listen, I've never… done anything… like that. Not even with Meredith, okay?" My face felt hot under the humiliation of the moment.

She took in the information silently, breathing slowly, deeply, before she asked, "Then why did you hit him?"

"He hit me first, Mom."

"But you didn't have to hit him back."

"Yes, I did."

She shot me an angry look.

"He hit me and hurt his hand first off, which only pissed him off more. So what was I supposed to do? Stand there and let him hit me and prove to everyone that I'm not normal? Because if I hadn't hit him right then, he would have kept going. He wasn't going to stop until he was satisfied. So the way I see it, I did him a favor."

"A favor!" she snapped. "Jason, he has two broken ribs and several broken fingers!"

"He could have had a lot more broken if I hadn't stopped him!"

She grumbled something and shook her head. "I don't know what to do."

"How long is my suspension?" I asked quietly.

"Three days," she said sadly.

"I'm going to miss a couple really big tests."

"There go your grades."

"I'll make it up."

She glanced at me again, still upset. "I'm not sure how to punish you for this."

"Isn't this punishment enough?"

She shook her head. "I'm going to have to talk to your father. I asked him to meet us at the house."

Great. Just great. I was hoping she would understand. There wasn't anything I could do to change the school policy, but I didn't think she'd be too hard on me once she understood what really happened. Dad had sailed through school, like Mom, and was more of a stickler about my grades than she was. He was sure to ground me until I graduated.

We pulled up to the house and Mom led the way inside. "He said he'd be out back," she said, dropping her bag on the hall table and walking to the patio door.

For a moment, it crossed my mind that it was odd how Dad would be waiting for us out back. Why not do this in the office? Why not send me to my room? But once Mom slid the patio door open, I realized fully what she meant when she said she was going to talk to my father.

"You have got to be kidding me," I bit out as soon as I saw him. "As if my day hasn't been bad enough, you go and invite him over here!"

Ever since my little blow-up last summer in front of Mom, he had kept his distance from me. He had stopped spying on me– at least I hadn't caught him spying like I normally did. I figured he'd finally taken the hint that I didn't want to deal with him anymore. Mom and Dad had mentioned a few times that I hadn't had much contact with him in a while. They were oblivious to the contact I'd had with Clark, of course. But they hadn't forced me to see him and I was doing—had been doing-- fine without him. It incensed me beyond reason that Mom invited him here now, and even more that he came!

"Jason!" Mom scolded. "He is the only one who understands what this is like for you."

"Like hell he does."

"You watch your language," she said, pointing a finger at me. "Now, let's talk about this and try to work something out."

"I'm not talking to him."

"I don't think you're in much of a position to talk back today, young man. Now come out here right now."

I held my ground. "No."

"What?" she said.

"I said no. I don't want to talk to him, now or ever again."

He took a step forward, his face still calm and collected. "Jason, I think what your mother wants is—"

"Why are you even here?" I interrupted, walking forward to come face-to-face with him, bypassing my stunned mother.

"Because Lois asked me here. She told me you got in some trouble at school."

"And you thought you had to come in and clean up my mess, right?"

He frowned. "No."

"Yes," I countered. "Because that's all you ever do. You stay away from me long enough to make sure I've had time to royally screw things up. You wait for everything to go to hell so Mom will call you for help and you can swoop in and save the day and be the hero. But I know better! You aren't my hero."

"Jason, stop it," Mom said from behind me.

"No, I will not stop it, Mom. Not until he understands that I don't want him around me anymore."

I looked him directly in the eyes, which was more easily accomplished now than ever before, given my height. "I'm sick of it. I'm sick of you. I'm sick of the fact that you only take an interest in me when I do something wrong. That you only try to act like a parent when it's convenient for you. That you feel you have to clean up after me just so that no one will ever learn about your precious little secret."

I spared a glance at Mom over my shoulder to see her worried face and then focused back on the man in front of me, purposeful.

"I'll make a promise to you that I will never tell her."

"Tell me what?" Mom asked.

His eyes darted to Mom and then back to me wordlessly.

"I promise that I won't tell anyone anything," I continued. "And I'm not doing it for you; I'm doing it for me, because honestly, I don't want to be connected to you anymore, not in any way, shape, or form. So, your secret is safe with me. But in return…" I inched forward, my anger making me feel bold. "You have to go away."

"What do you mean?" he asked solemnly.

"I mean I don't ever want to see you again. Ever. "

I could hear his heart rate increase.

"You don't mean that, Jason," Mom whispered.

"Oh, yes I do." I held on to his gaze as I spoke. "I don't need you coming around, making me feel inferior. I don't need you to clean up after me if I make a mistake. That's what my mom and dad are here for. You're just an unwanted third wheel."

I had to give him credit for not looking away from me. But I could still hear his heart racing. And now I could tell that his breathing wasn't exactly normal, either. "I can't just walk away from you, Jason," he said in an unnaturally shaky voice.

"Yes, you can. You've been doing it my whole life. Only difference is that this time I'm giving you permission to do it."

We looked at each other in uncomfortable silence for a few moments.

"I told you to leave," I reminded him.

"I heard you," he said.

"Then why haven't you left?"

He swallowed hard. "Don't ask this of me, Jason. I can't leave—"

"I have done everything you have ever asked of me." I said softly but fiercely. "I have put up with so much crap from you over the years, and you know it! Every day of my life I have to pretend to be something that I'm not, and I'm tired of it. I can't live like you. I refuse to. All I ask is that you leave me alone and let me try to live a normal life for once, free from you."

"Jason," Mom gasped, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I know you're upset over what happened today, but you don't know what you're saying."

I turned to face her. "Yeah, I'm upset. I'm upset because this isn't my fault. None of it. I didn't sleep with that girl and I didn't start that fight. Most importantly, I can't help the fact that I was born the way I am. So I do know what I'm saying, and I should have said it a long time ago, because I hate him." I turned to look at him again and repeated my statement. "I hate you."

"You don't hate him," Mom said, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "He's your father."

"He's not my father," I said, still looking at him with disgust. "He's more like… a sperm donor."

Mom inhaled sharply and stepped away from me shakily, her hand covering her mouth. The tears that she had been holding in till now fell down her cheeks. "I can't believe you just said that."

I could see the hurt in her face and was sorry for having said it. Not that it wasn't true, but I still shouldn't have said it out loud…at least not in her presence. I felt guilty and looked over to him to find him glaring at me now.

"You will apologize to your mother for that," he demanded.

As guilty as I felt – as much as I knew I should apologize – I couldn't give him the satisfaction of having that power over me. "Why should I apologize for something that is not my fault?" I emphasized the last words pointedly. "You think I wanted to be born like this? You think I wanted to be half-alien, half-human? Well, I didn't. So your daddy was right, Superman," I sneered. "Now's your chance to fly up there and tell Jor-El that he was right. That a Kryptonian-human hybrid is just as abnormal as he said I would be."

He shook his head, looking very dissatisfied with me. "Jason, you never understood—"

"I don't care," I snapped. "I don't want to listen to your so-called explanations. I'm done with it – done with you. So just do me a favor for once and leave me the hell alone."

He stood still.

And I blew up. "What part of 'GO AWAY!' don't you understand?"

Mom sniffed.

He took a step back. "All right, Jason." His hands went up in surrender. "You win. I'll go. I won't bother you again unless I'm asked."

"Which will never happen," I added.

He stared at me, and I suddenly felt chilled at the sight of his eyes. They were wet. Like he might cry at any moment.

But my eyes were dry for once. Like he said, I had won. And I silently vowed that I'd never shed another tear over him ever again. Like I said, I was done with him. I meant every word.

He raised his arms as if preparing himself to fly away, only to drop them and look at me once more. He licked his lips, and I heard his heart race faster. "I never told you—"

"GO!" I shouted. "JUST GO!"

With one last glance at my mother as if to say he was sorry, he lifted off the ground and flew away.

My eyes were instantly drawn to my mother, who was still silently crying. "I hope you're finally satisfied," she said bitterly before heading back into the house.

It's what I had asked for. It's what I had wanted. But now that I had it, I felt horrible. Even worse was the fact that I didn't receive any real punishment from my parents. They didn't tell me I was grounded. They didn't prohibit me from going out with friends or using the computer. Not one thing was said to me about it after that moment on the patio. Only glances. Only sad looks. The guilt trip worked, for I took it upon myself to punish me. I stayed in my room by choice. I worked like mad on schoolwork, making sure I had an A on every assignment from that point until I graduated in a futile attempt to make up for what had happened that day.

But the damage had been done. My relationship with my mom would never really be the same again. I'd said things that I shouldn't have said, and now she knew that there was some secret I was keeping from her about him. Dad's anger at me for my behavior went unspoken, but that didn't mean I couldn't feel it. Tension was tight for a while, and I knew it was truly my fault this time.

But I got what I wanted. He stayed away. He didn't fly over the house at Christmas to check on me. He didn't come around for my eighteenth birthday. He didn't even watch, as far as I could tell, when I graduated in the top ten percent of my class. I wondered if he knew what school I was going to – what dorm I was staying in. I shouldn't have wondered, but I did. I got exactly what I asked for, and in doing so I realized it wasn't what I really wanted at all. But I'd never admit that to anyone.