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Chapter Fifteen
The cell was even worse than Jon-El remembered.
There were only about five steps between either the black wall or the thick bulletproof glass. It was uncomfortably small, like he was being crushed.
His chest ached at the thought, and his eyes watered at the memory of the expansive farmland he had lost. Oh, how he would do anything for just another day out on that Kansas farm…
When he laid down on the bed, it was no more comfortable than the ground. The mattress was thin and hard, and the sheets were scratchy. The springs poked at his sensitive skin, and no matter how he laid, there was not a single one where his body didn't protest.
His bed at the Kent's house had been like a cloud. It had been soft, comfortable, and the blankets had been thick. A good night's sleep had been easy, even with the nightmares.
He tried to forget it whenever he had to lay down against the rock of a bed he had been given.
The worst was still the lights, though they were more horrible than Jon-El had remembered.
His skin burned underneath the bright glow, his head throbbed… His powers had been gone for a long time now, but that didn't change how the lights made him feel. If the lightbulb just broke, even if for only a minute… Then maybe he could have some relief.
But the lights stayed on, and his body continued to grow weaker.
He had lost track of the days. There was no time in here other than the seemingly random times that he would be brought food. With nothing to do anymore, there was no reason to keep time. No reason not to sleep through the rest of his life…
So he laid on the awful mattress, his back turned to the door as his stomach growled painfully with hunger. There were no sounds at all, no movement except for what came from him, and the only light came from the bulbs he was being tortured with.
He knew he deserved this, but he really just wanted to see the Kents again…
Would Lois hug him? Bring him into her arms and hold him lovingly?
Would Clark try to have another conversation with him? Would he say the right things? Would he make Jon-El feel like he belonged?
And what about the twins? What would they do?
It didn't matter. Jon-El was never going to see it. He was stuck here.
He wasn't sure why Jordan's words had hurt as much as they did. After all, Jon-El had known for most of his life that his father didn't love him, but that hadn't stopped the pain this time.
That also didn't matter. Kal-El was dead. Clark had told him that.
Jon-El swallowed and curled closer in on himself. He couldn't let himself cry again. He had done it far too much since he had been brought back.
But he was never getting back out of here.
He would never see the outside world again.
He would never get another hug from Lois.
He would never have another family game night…
He was alone now. Alone on a world where the people he knew were nothing like the ones he had grown up with. Alone on a world where no one cared about him past making sure he didn't starve.
He wasn't just alone though, he was forgotten by anyone who he thought had ever cared about him.
And then the door opened.
At first, Jon-El didn't move. The guards normally didn't try to mess with him if he pretended to be asleep.
"Jonathan?"
Jon-El sat up at the voice and twisted himself so that he could see who was talking to him.
Instantly though, he found himself pushing his body against the black wall behind him. His heart beat faster and harder than it ever had in his life.
This wasn't possible.
Why was he here?
"Superman?" he said, though his voice was barely above a whisper.
This didn't make any sense. Why would he come back? Hadn't he said that he didn't trust him anymore? That his children came first?
The man in the red cape walked closer to the cell, then began messing with one of the computers. He stayed completely silent as he did.
With every second that passed, Jon-El began to feel more and more sick with anxiety. Every once in a while, Superman would look up at him, and when he did? Jon-El saw the face of his father.
Memories of being cornered by his father, of the man screaming at him as he towered over him, and of the bruises that came afterwards filled Jon-El's head.
Maybe Superman decided that he wasn't done with him, not until Jon-El had felt Jordan's pain. Or perhaps even worse…
After all, wasn't that what his father had done? And who would stop Superman from ridding the world of a criminal?
As discreetly as he could, Jon-El began looking for any sort of escape route, but he knew it was impossible. Even if he managed to somehow get around Superman, there was no way that he would be able to escape.
He was still a human. He couldn't even outrun his father when he had powers, how would he be able to outrun Superman in his weakened state?
So he braced himself to run, and for the pain when it would inevitably come. It wouldn't be the first time that he had borne the pain of a Superman's punch.
As soon as the door unsealed, Jon-El ran.
But Superman was faster.
It took all of Jon-El's power not to accidentally slam face first into the man, and as soon as he had stopped, he flinched away from him.
"Hey, you're okay," he heard Superman try to soothe. "I'm not gonna hurt you, bud."
Lies.
It had to be a lie.
Why else would he have left him here? Why else would he have come back?
Hesitantly, Jon-El looked up at Superman. At Clark.
Clark looked down and met Jon-El's gaze. His eyes were filled with what Jon-El thought was worry, and he didn't look like he was planning on hurting him. At least… Not yet.
A little spark of hope fluttered in Jon-El's chest. It betrayed his fear, and pushed him to speak to the man in front of him.
"Why are you here?"
Clark smiled at him, though there was a hit on sadness, of remorse in his eyes. "Jordan told us everything," he explained. His voice was soft, gentle… Just like Jon-El had remembered. "I came back for you."
Before he could stop it, before he could question it, the flicker of hope grew brighter and relief filled his entire body.
Clark was here to get him out of this cell. He was here to remove him from this lonely, painful place.
He couldn't stop the tears as they began to fall. The ugly, wet tears that ran down his face and wouldn't go away.
What had he done to deserve another chance? He had broken the rules, he had hurt Clark's son…
And yet… He had come back for him.
Jon-El didn't let himself continue to question it. He didn't have the words to say, he didn't know what there was to say.
Before Jon-El could stop it, he threw himself into Clark's arms.
Clark instantly returned the hug, his strong arms pulling him in for a tight embrace. It was warm, and gentle, something Jon-El hadn't known from his own father.
Clark placed his hand on the back of Jon-El's head as he held the broken boy close. "I'm sorry," he told him. "We should have listened to you."
Jon-El couldn't speak between the gasping sobs, he couldn't think, the only thing he knew how to do was cling onto the man who had come back for him.
Clark continued to hold him tightly for a moment, just until Jon-El's sobs had begun to quiet, then he pulled away. "Let's get you home."
Jon-El nodded, but he still couldn't find the words to say.
Clark had come back. Jon-El hadn't been forgotten. He wasn't going to have to spend the rest of his life alone.
He was saved.
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