Hey, guys!
Omg, I'm so excited. This is the next to last chapter of part two. We're so close, guys. Hopefully the final chapter of part two will be out by the end of the week so I can get started on part three.
I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Eighteen.
Jonathan really wanted Clark to have a good Thanksgiving.
He told himself that it wasn't because he didn't have his own child to be thankful for, or to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade with, or to pull on the wishbone with. But he was wrong. Those were all reasons on why he wanted Clark to have a good thanksgiving. While the two of them were still together.
He wanted Lex to come back for his son and have saved him from whatever evils lurk in the background, but Jonathan knew that he would miss Clark so much when he was gone.
Martha walked over to Jonathan and pressed a kiss to the top of his head as she handed him his coffee. "It's gonna be a good day," she told him. "I promise."
"You know," he began as he reached back and clasped her hand. "I'm really gonna miss Clark when he's gone. I thought we were doing fine on our own, but…"
Martha stayed quiet, but squeezed his hand a bit tighter. She had the softest hands, even with all of the farm work she did. He had no idea how that was even possible. His were rough and calloused, just like they had been since the day he inherited the farm.
"I know," she finally whispered.
Jonathan cleared his throat, hoping that it would take the lump out of his throat. He would never forget the day when they found out they could never have a child of their own. No matter how much he wanted to forget it, it would always be burned into his mind. He had told her that they would have happy days again, but it had been so hard. The closest thing he had to a son didn't even belong to him.
Martha recovered first. "Well, I still have some pies to bake and the mashed potatoes still need to be cooked," she said. "Why don't you wake up Clark and you two can watch the parade together while I work on this?"
Jonathan nodded. "Sounds good," he said, then gave her hand one last squeeze before he made his way upstairs.
He turned on the light to Clark's room, then walked over to the bed. "Hey, Clark," he said. "Wake up, buddy."
Clark's tiny fists reached up and rubbed at his eyes, but he didn't open them. Instead, he curled farther under the blankets.
Jonathan chuckled, then sat on the side of the bed. "C'mon, kiddo," he said. "It's Thanksgiving. We have a full day of fun things to do, and you wouldn't wanna sleep through them."
Jonathan watched as Clark yawned and rubbed his eyes again. After a moment, Clark sat up, then looked around sleepily.
"Good morning, sleepy head," he said. "Martha has breakfast ready. Are you hungry?"
Clark blinked sleepily, then nodded. "Uh huh."
Jonathan nodded, then picked up Clark and carried him downstairs. "Guess who's awake, Martha?" Jonathan said playfully as he walked into the kitchen and placed Clark on one of the empty counters away from where Martha was working.
Martha looked up at him, then smiled before walking over and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Hey, sweetie," she greeted. "Are you hungry?"
Clark nodded and Jonathan picked him up off of the counter and put him in his seat.
Jonathan smiled as he cut a small piece off of a danish pastry for Clark. For years now, he and Martha had made sure that their Thanksgiving dinner was straight from their own harvest, but the pastry that they would eat for breakfast was always store bought. It was one of those traditions that seemed so small, but that Jonathan loved.
Jonathan sipped his coffee as Clark hesitantly picked pieces off of his breakfast and put them in his mouth. He knew that children tended to be picky eaters, but he didn't think that any of them would turn down what was basically dessert.
After a moment though, Clark dug in. Jonathan smiled as the child ate every last bite of his breakfast.
"Was that good?" Jonathan asked, then picked Clark up.
Clark nodded, then looked around. "What doing?" He asked as he pointed to Martha.
Jonathan smiled. Clark was such a curious child. He couldn't even begin to imagine all of the questions that Clark had asked Lex. "She's making pies for tonight," he told him. "It's Thanksgiving, remember?"
Clark's eyes widened. "Today?"
"Yeah!" Jonathan exclaimed. "We're gonna have all kinds of good food, watch the parade, and spend time together!"
Clark grinned, and Jonathan was convinced that if Clark got any more excited, he was going to explode.
"Daddy coming?" He asked, the excitement in his voice filling the room.
Jonathan exchanged a quick glance with Martha, then cleared his throat. "Let's watch the parade."
The parade passed in a blur, but Jonathan loved every moment of it.
Well, he actually didn't. The parade was fine, but it was Clark that he loved. Every time a new float or balloon came on the screen of the old television, Clark would light up with excitement and get both Jonathan and Martha's attention.
The music was alright, but Clark didn't seem that interested in it. When the songs would last too long for his opinion, Jonathan would find him twisting the blue blanket in his hands and looking at it.
But now that the parade was over and the food was done, it was time to eat. Normally, they would end up eating later in the afternoon, but Martha had prepped so much of the food in advance that they had Thanksgiving lunch instead.
Martha walked over, then picked up Clark. "Everything's ready," She told him. "We can go ahead and eat, if you're ready."
Jonathan stood up and walked to the table. He sat down, and so did Martha and Clark.
He looked around the table, then smiled. He took in the beautiful moment while it lasted. He knew that Lex would bring Clark for Thanksgiving dinner next year, but this year Clark was living with them. It was different this year. Clark would never be his kid, but this year it felt like he was.
And maybe that was wrong. Maybe he wasn't supposed to think that way about Clark, but he couldn't help himself in the fleeting moments of the day. It was times like these where he wished he had a child of his own.
Jonathan shook the thought from his head. He should be thankful for what he had this year, not jealous of what Lex Luthor had.
Jonathan cleared his throat, then began the Thanksgiving prayer. He thanked God for the food on the table, for his family, for the bountiful harvest they had this year, for the friends, for being able to take in Clark and protect him from harm…
Then they ate.
It was always hard to gage how much Clark would eat. He had a ferocious appetite some days, then almost refused to eat other days. Jonathan knew it had to do with the experiments done at the lab, but that didn't make it any easier to deal with.
He watched as Martha gave Clark a small piece of turkey, a few bites of cranberry sauce, a few bites of dressing, a small serving of mashed potatoes, and a tiny dinner roll. Jonathan doubted that Clark would eat every bite, but he knew that he would at least try it.
Jonathan took a bite of the cranberry sauce as he watched Clark eat. At the same time that he took a bite, Clark also took a bite of the cranberry sauce. His face lit up at the flavor, and Jonathan smiled.
The cranberries in the sauce were one of the few things that they ended up buying instead of growing, but neither he nor Martha cared about that one thing because cranberry sauce was one of their favorites.
"So, Clark, what are you thankful for?" Martha asked.
Clark stayed quiet, and Jonathan began to wonder if Clark had understood the question. None of them really knew how much Clark knew or understood. It had made raising him for the past few weeks that much more difficult.
"Daddy," Clark finally said.
Jonathan watched as Martha practically melted. "I'm sure he's very thankful for you too," she told him. "Just like we are."
"Really?" Clark asked.
"Yeah," she said. "Really."
After the meal, everything calmed down. Jonathan and Martha read as Clark napped on Martha's lap. It was peaceful, warm, and what Jonathan had always wanted.
He put down his book, then grabbed the newspaper from the day before. He hadn't had the chance to read it due to extra work on the farm.
At the sight of the first headline, his stomach churned, and he felt sick.
"Martha?" He said.
Martha looked up from her book. "Yeah?"
Jonathan flipped over the paper so she could read the headline. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he had read it wrong…
LEX LUTHOR MISSING
Martha gasped and pulled Clark a little closer. Clark curled closer to her and grabbed her shirt in his little fist. "What all do they know?" She asked.
Jonathan turned the newspaper back towards him so he could read it again. "Lex Luthor hasn't been seen since Monday," he told her as he skimmed the paper. "There aren't any leads on his disappearance either."
Martha hesitated, then looked down at Clark. After a moment, she looked back up at Jonathan. "What are we gonna do?" She asked.
Jonathan cleared his throat. He hadn't been expecting this to happen. He didn't want this to happen. As much as he loved Clark and thought of him as the closest thing to a son that he had ever had, he knew that Clark and Lex belonged together. "We need to tell Clark the truth."
Martha hesitated again. "It'll break him, Jonathan," she said.
"He deserves to know," he said.
Martha nodded sadly, then gently shook Clark. "Hey, wake up, sweetie," she told him. "We need to talk to you."
Clark rubbed his eyes, then looked around. "What's wrong?" He asked, his voice soft and sleepy.
"We just got some news about your Daddy," Martha said.
Clark perked up at the mention of Lex, and Jonathan felt the weight on his chest get heavier. How could they possibly tell him the truth?
"Daddy?" He asked excitedly.
Martha looked at Jonathan, and by the pleading look in her eyes, Jonathan knew what she was asking. He nodded a short nod to her. He would do it.
"Clark, buddy, you know that your Daddy has been gone because he's trying to make the world a safer place for you, right?" He said.
Clark nodded, then Jonathan continued. "Well, he went missing the other day," he told him. "Nobody knows where he is. No one has seen him in a few days."
Clark stayed quiet as he processed this information, then looked up at Jonathan. His eyes were filled with tears. "Is he coming back?" Clark asked.
Martha sniffled. "We don't know, sweetie," she said.
"Is he dead?"
Jonathan's heart thudded in his ears when he heard Clark's question. For a split second, he wondered how Clark knew about such a dark topic, but then he remembered about Clark's own dark past.
He cleared his throat, then gently put his hand on one of Clark's hands. "We don't know."
It hurt to say the words aloud, and he begged just one thing over and over in his head. Please, Lex… Don't be dead.
Lex let out a shuddering, wheezy breath. Everything hurt. Everything.
He didn't have any sort of way to keep time, but he was sure he had been in this room for an eternity.
He looked up as the door opened, wincing as it pulled on the screaming muscles in his neck and shoulders.
"Good morning, Alexander," Alistair greeted as he walked in.
Morning? Really? It didn't feel that way to Lex…
"Jack here tells me that you haven't been very cooperative," Alistair told him, then reached over and grabbed Lex's face by the jaw.
Lex gasped at the pain as Alistair's rough fingers pushed into his jaw. His father had done this multiple times when he was still alive, but he hadn't been prepared for the pain this time around. Especially not as the rough movement jostled all of his injured body parts.
"Three days, Alexander. You've held out for three days of non-stop torture. You've gone past being heroic, now you're just being idiotic. If you weren't a thorn in my side, I would almost be impressed," Alistair told him. "Just tell us where the boy is and we'll stop."
"No," Lex said. He wished he could say more, but his head throbbed and his chest burned with every almost impossible breath.
Alistair chuckled. "Ever the hero… No wonder your father hated you," he said, then turned to Jack. "Bring it over."
Jack took a few steps forward and Lex instinctively flinched. When they had first started torturing him, Lex thought the burns or electric shocks would have been the worst. He wasn't so naïve anymore.
"Alexander," Alistair began. "Did you know that Jack here helped in the testing of 33.1's weaknesses and invulnerability?"
Lex looked back up at Jack. If Lex hadn't hated him before, he did now. If he had done half of what he did to Lex on Clark… He would kill him.
Alistair laughed as Lex tried to pull at the chains to get to Jack. "Still feisty, I see," he said, then grabbed something from Jack. "Thank you, Jack."
"You know, Alexander, we can't go on forever. I have to get back to work on Project Asclepius, and I need 33.1 back for that," Alistair told him, then held up a large injection. "But luckily, I have my ways."
Lex's eyes widened and he tried to thrash around, but he could hardly move.
"Hold him still, Jack," Alistair said.
Lex shouted in pain as the large needle went into his body. The fluid inside burned up and down his body as it went. His headache thudded violently into a migraine as his stomach started to twist with nausea.
"There," Alistair said. "That should loosen his lips."
Lex squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to quell his nausea, but it did little to help.
Alistair grabbed Lex's face again and yanked it up. "Where is the alien?"
"My… My son. His name.. Is Clark." The words spilled out of Lex before he could stop them.
Alistair looked over at Jack and smiled his twisted and evil smile. "When in doubt, use drugs."
"Now, where is Clark?"
So, there you go! One of the longest chapters yet! (You can thank Jonathan for that, lol. xD) This are getting very, very bad. Please follow, fave, and review! I would love to know what you thought!
Thanks for reading! Love y'all!