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The Chronicles of Martha and Jonathan

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  • #76
    Reconnecting

    “Clark?”

    Jonathan climbed the stairs to the loft. His tall son was sitting at the desk, doing his homework, but the dark-haired teen looked up at him when he reached the top step.


    “Yeah, Dad?” He frowned as Jonathan took a moment to get his breath back. He hadn’t mentioned anything to his family, but ever since he’d been given the Kryptonian abilities, temporarily anyway, his chest had felt a little tighter every time he’d exerted himself.


    He sat down on the couch. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”


    Clark turned his chair around to look at his father, his expression showing worry. Jonathan shook his head. It wasn’t anything bad.


    They’d basically had the year from hell. It had started with Clark going slightly off-the-rails when he’d encountered red K, as the peculiar strain of red meteor rock had come to be called, then his search for answers as to his heritage. His relationship with his wife had hit a bumpy patch when Martha’s work with Lionel Luthor had led to the man getting too close to her and Clark’s secret. Finally, the demands from the ghost or whatever of Clark’s birth father to take up his training which had led to his son’s disastrous attempt to defy those demands by blowing up the ship.


    The three months following Clark’s running off to Metropolis had been difficult ones. Still dealing with the loss of the baby, Jonathan and his wife had spent everything they had trying to find their son, only to almost lose the farm in a foreclosure. As much as he still didn’t quite trust Lex Luthor, the boy had come to the rescue by paying off the mortgage and handing the deed back to them, without any apparent ulterior motive.


    Jonathan would have sacrificed everything to get his family back together, knowing his wife was hurting just as much as he was. He couldn’t help remembering the things he’d said to Clark when they’d been in the hospital. Grief-stricken over the loss of the long-hoped-for baby, he’d confronted his son and berated him for not thinking of the consequences. He’d never dreamed that Clark would take his words so much to heart and think that Jonathan blamed him for the baby’s death.


    If anyone had been to blame, it was Jor-El, he thought. His son hadn’t been ready for whatever the Kryptonian had wanted Clark to do. He was only sixteen. Jonathan remembered being that age and he’d hardly been emotionally mature then. Maybe on Krypton things had been different, but Clark had been raised by humans.


    He’d tried to tell the ghost/spirit/avatar – whatever it was, that, when he’d gone to the Kawatche cave to try to figure out how to get Clark to come home. He’d never considered the possibility that Jor-El would give him abilities in order to do so, or that there might have been another way. After all, he’d used green meteor rock to weaken him before. As much as he’d hated hurting his son, it had been the only way.


    Clark had been home now for a month and while things seemed okay, they weren’t quite as ‘normal’ as they had been before everything that had happened.


    Jonathan wanted to put all that behind them. He needed a way for him and Martha to reconnect and it was going to take more than a fried chicken picnic, he had thought, recalling the disastrous attempt to celebrate their anniversary the year before.

    “Dad?”


    “I was hoping you might be able to help me with something,” he said.


    “What?”


    “Well, I wanted to take your mother out. Somewhere special. Just the two of us.”


    The trouble was, he had no idea what to do. He thought he’d sound his son out and see if they could come up with something.


    “What about a movie?” Clark asked. “I bet we could get Lana to arrange something at the Talon.”


    He nodded. It was an idea. With Lex’s help, Lana had had the theatre restored at the coffee shop and now showed mostly art-house movies.


    Still, it wasn’t quite what he was looking for. He wanted to do something to recreate the early days of their romance, before he and Martha got married. He supposed he could recreate their first date, but somehow a picnic in the barn just didn’t seem appropriate either.


    “Why don’t you take her to dinner in the city?” Clark suggested.


    Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “Why? So you can call all your friends and throw a party?”


    Clark rolled his eyes. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”


    He laughed. “No. I’m going to keep reminding you of that until you’re old and grey, son.”


    “Gee, thanks.”


    “Just wait until you have kids of your own, son. You’ll understand.”


    Clark was silent. Jonathan wondered if he was thinking about Lana, his on-off girlfriend. As much as he liked the girl, he didn’t think Lana was right for his son. She had a lot of growing up to do and needed to find herself. Without making Clark a casualty in the process.


    “Maybe you should talk to Lex,” Clark suggested. “I bet he could arrange something.”


    Jonathan bit back a refusal. Sure, Lex had been an incredible help the past month, but he didn’t think the advice of a young man who thought the only way to impress was with huge gestures would suffice. He wanted something simple. Something that was …


    “Eureka,” he said softly.


    Clark stared at him. “Dad?”


    “I know just the thing.”


    Martha was in the Talon delivering the usual order of baked goods. Lana smiled when she saw the trays.


    “These look amazing, Mrs Kent.” The young brunette took the tray off her and carried it over to the counter, opening a ledger.


    “How are you doing, Lana?” Martha asked.


    The girl paused in her writing. “I’m okay.” She looked up. “It’s been kind of … strange, I guess.”


    She knew Clark and Lana had been keeping their distance. Clark, because he didn’t want to keep on hurting his on-off girlfriend and Lana probably because she was confused about where the relationship stood. Martha wanted to advise her that if it was meant to be then things would settle down, but she just wasn’t sure the two teens really were meant for each other. If they were, she was sure Clark would have been confident enough to share his secrets with her.


    She loved having her son home, but couldn’t help noticing things had been a little tense. She wondered sometimes if Clark had decided that the only reason he’d come back was to straighten things out, but had intentions of leaving again. She supposed he was afraid his birth father would force him to do something drastic, like blowing up the ship. He wasn’t ready to accept his destiny, whatever that entailed.


    Things had changed in the past couple of days. She’d noticed Jonathan and Clark whispering together but as soon as they spotted her they’d suddenly stopped whispering and acted like they had something to hide. Those two were up to something and she was dying to know what it was.


    She drove home, having delivered the last of the produce. Jonathan had suggested she take the car as he’d claimed he’d heard a rattling in the truck and wanted to check it out. The truck, while not exactly new, was still a fairly recent model, unlike the truck which Roger Nixon had blown up to test Clark. There was no way it should have engine troubles, she thought.


    It had been a beautiful, sunny day and the sun was beginning to drop as she turned into the gateway. The truck was parked on the gravel driveway. Martha parked the car in the garage and got out, heading for the house.


    “Hi Mom.”


    She turned as Clark stepped out of the barn.


    “Oh, Clark. I didn’t see you there. What are you doing?”


    “Nothing much,” he said. He had a look on his face that reminded her of when he’d been little and she’d caught him trying to steal cookies from the jar.


    “Clark Jerome Kent.”


    “Ooh, sounds like you’re in trouble, son,” Jonathan joked, coming out from behind the barn. Martha looked at her husband. He was dressed in a new pair of jeans and a clean, white shirt. His hair had been combed back neatly and he’d even shaved. He smiled at her with a gleam in his blue eyes. It reminded her so much of the times before they’d got married, when he’d arrived at her parents’ house for a date.


    “Jonathan, what are you …”


    He approached the truck and opened the door. Martha could see what looked like a picnic basket on the bench seat.


    “Madame,” he said, gesturing with one hand to the passenger seat. Puzzled, Martha got into the truck.


    A conspiratorial look passed between father and son and Jonathan got in the driver’s seat. Clark stood at the window.


    “Have fun,” was all he said.


    Martha was still confused as Jonathan started the truck, the engine rumbling smoothly, sounding no different than earlier.


    “Where are we going?” she asked.


    “It’s a surprise,” her husband replied.


    She decided there was no point in arguing that she had things to do at home. Like cook dinner, finish the laundry and a number of other chores. Jonathan probably had answers to any objections.


    About an hour later they arrived at a very familiar location. Jonathan had taken her many times to what was known as Make Out Point. It was a scenic lookout overlooking the city, a popular spot for teenagers. It was unusually quiet.


    “Oh, Jonathan,” she said softly.


    “We’re just getting started, sweetheart,” he replied. He got out of the truck and came around, helping her out. He took the picnic basket and a rug, jumping up into the bed of the vehicle, setting out the rug and the picnic, which Martha noted included all her favourites.


    He helped her up so they could sit on the rug. They talked as they ate the delicious food, reminiscing about the days before their marriage and everything that had happened since.


    The sun began to set as they finished eating. Jonathan got down and leaned inside the cab, turning on the radio. Martha recognised a country music station that was one of Jonathan’s favourites.


    He returned to take her hand.


    “May I have this dance, little lady?” he asked.


    Martha giggled and let him help her down. She went easily into his arms as the music started. She wasn’t surprised to hear her husband singing along with the track. He’d sung to her a few times when he’d been trying to impress her. His deep baritone sang in perfect harmony.


    Maybe I didn’t love you
    Quite as often as I could have
    Maybe I didn’t treat you
    Quite as good as I should have


    If I made you feel second best
    Girl, I’m sorry I was blind
    You were always on my mind
    You were always on my mind


    When they grew tired of dancing, they sat in the cab, the radio at low volume, arms around each other, just holding each other.


    Martha lifted her head and looked at her husband. It had been such a simple thing but she had never felt more loved than she did right now.


    “Thank you,” she said. “This was wonderful.”


    “All for you, my love,” he replied. “I love you, Martha Kent. So very, very much.”


    She kissed him. “I love you too.”

    Comment


    • #77
      a/n: Obviously my posts were lost in the server crash. Anyway, I'm now going to post these out of order and am writing these snippets as I get inspired.

      Answers

      Martha had tried not to reveal her own fears to her son, but the moment he started talking about the mystery of the caves and how they could be linked to his alien heritage, she started to worry.

      The one thing she had never really talked about with either of the men in her life was her fear that one day Clark would learn who he really was and would choose to leave.

      It was something that was apparently common to all parents of adopted children. The fear that their child would learn about their birth parents and reject their adopted ones.

      The discovery that her son had apparently been flying in his sleep and dreaming about putting the key in the cave wall had been hard enough to take. The knowledge that Jonathan held the same fears she did was more than she could stand.

      Clark had accused his father of being afraid to let him find the answers through the caves and he wasn’t wrong.

      He’d stormed out, saying he had to get ready for school. Martha looked at her husband.

      “Jonathan …”

      “I know, sweetheart, but I don’t trust what’s in those caves. Not after what happened to Pete and Chloe and those other kids.”

      She nodded. There had been some kind of parasite which had somehow entered the teenagers’ bodies and caused them to act out in dangerous ways. She hadn’t seen it, but Clark had been able to x-ray Pete and had described the creature as something similar to what he’d seen on a sci-fi television show.

      As if that hadn’t been bad enough, Pete had used red meteor rock on Clark, who had acted out himself, with disastrous results.

      “I don’t think we can really stop him,” she warned her husband.

      “I’ll just have to hide the key,” Jonathan said. “If he doesn’t know where it is, then he can’t put it in the cave wall.”

      She shook her head, telling him she didn’t think that was the best idea.

      “I don’t know what else to do,” he told her. “I’m afraid,” he admitted. “I’m afraid that he’s going to learn the truth about his biological parents and he won’t need us anymore. Or else, he’ll find out something horrible about them and he’ll get hurt.”

      She understood that. It was the one thing she’d always feared. That Clark would either leave or someone would take him away. She still hadn’t really recovered from the time Rachel Dunleavy had tried to claim him as her son, Lucas. The woman had even gone as far as to buy a house in town and was planning on refurbishing it so she could live there with her son. Even though she’d assured them she wasn’t planning on suing for custody.

      She couldn’t help thinking about the problem over the next couple of days. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones but it felt like her fears were being exacerbated somehow.

      It hadn’t helped that people had come by to try to get a look at the symbol burned on the barn. Chloe had printed a photo of it in the high school newspaper and it had attracted all kinds of idiots, including conspiracy theorists and so-called alien enthusiasts.

      Then Clark announced he had received an email from a Dr Virgil Swann in New York. Martha had no idea who the man was and even the article in Time Magazine hadn’t helped with her uneasiness.

      Jonathan read the article but he completely agreed with Martha. He didn’t like the idea of a stranger, a scientist, no less, approaching his son out of the blue. Clark was almost sixteen, but that didn’t mean he was old enough to figure out if somebody was trustworthy. Hell, he’d made his own mistakes in trusting the wrong people, even in his late twenties. Lionel Luthor being one of them.

      She’d told him of her fears but had put it down to the pregnancy. He hadn’t wanted to voice his own fears, knowing if he voiced them, it would sound completely ridiculous. Clark would probably just think he was being paranoid. He had good reason to be, he thought.

      He knew Clark wanted answers about his heritage. He’d been asking questions that Jonathan didn’t have the answers to. Especially since finding out the truth about the ship in the storm cellar.

      Jonathan remembered talking to Clark about his developing abilities and it still hurt that he was just as in the dark as his son was. He was his father. He should know all the answers.

      Clark must have sensed those unspoken fears in the ensuing argument about Dr Swann. He’d reassured them that no matter what, they would still be his mom and dad. He just needed to know what had happened to his birth parents and why they’d sent him away.

      Jonathan knew then that Clark hadn’t meant to hurt them by his quest for answers. Answers that he was perfectly entitled to. They would just have to face it. As a family.

      Comment


      • #78
        A Parent's Worst Nightmare

        Note: This is based on something John Schneider said at a Comic Con. He was not happy with Clark and Lana sleeping together at only eighteen and pretty much said Jonathan would have taken Clark out to the woodshed and given him a pretty good spanking. So here’s my interpretation of that.

        Jonathan sat with Martha in the hospital waiting room, dreading what was going on just a few yards away, hoping that somehow the thing that was every parent’s worst nightmare, wouldn’t come true.

        It was unbelievable that it had happened to Clark, of all people. Clark, who had always been special. Clark who had somehow given up the thing that had made him special in favour of being normal. That was the problem. He wasn’t normal. Powers or no, he was everything Jonathan had always wanted in a son. And more.

        He cradled his head in his hands, trying not to upset his wife beside him, afraid to voice not just the fears playing on his mind, but the regrets he had from the harsh way he had spoken to his son, less than an hour earlier.

        It had started when he’d seen Clark and his girlfriend, Lana, trying to sneak down the stairs.

        Jonathan considered himself a pretty progressive kind of father. He had always tried to be fair with Clark, although some would say he was a little strict. When his son became a teenager, he’d told himself he wasn’t going to be the kind of father who would be so over-protective that the teenager would act out and rebel, rather like the young Lex Luthor. Sure, he had objected to Clark joining the football team in freshman year and had really been against it when Clark had gone against his wishes to become quarterback in senior year. That had turned out all right in the end.


        The thing was, Clark wasn’t like other kids. Apart from those few rebellious moments, mostly caused by Red K, his teenage son had actually been fairly obedient. This, however, was something he had not been prepared for.

        He’d stared in disbelief when he saw Clark and Lana entering the kitchen. Lana was wearing one of Clark’s plaid shirts. For a moment he thought she had been wearing nothing else but saw to his relief she was wearing jeans. It was fairly clear what had been going on between his eighteen-year-old son and his girlfriend.

        Jonathan had been raised with mid-western values. While he understood that it was rather old-fashioned to expect kids to wait until marriage before they had sex, the thought that his son would have sex under his roof was something he just wasn’t going to accept. He had rules for a reason. It didn’t matter that Clark was eighteen. Or that he wasn’t actually human. Even if he didn’t have his abilities at that moment.


        Lana started trying to explain but Jonathan wasn’t interested. If he had his way, he’d be taking Clark out to the woodshed and giving him the biggest ass whupping he’d ever received. Not that they’d ever done that to their son, not even when he’d been acting out on the red Kryptonite.


        Call him old-fashioned, but that was how his father had dealt with things. Jonathan had had his moments as a teenager, so he did know something about rebellion. He hadn’t exactly been a model son either. Martha hadn’t been his first sexual experience, but he’d been smart enough to do it somewhere so his dad hadn’t found out about it. Maybe that made him a hypocrite where Clark was concerned but if the only thing he’d had to worry about was Lana getting pregnant, then he doubted he would have been nearly so harsh. There was so much more to worry about than just them sleeping together.


        Martha stammered and stumbled over her words. She was clearly trying to be sympathetic, but Jonathan just shot his wife an ‘are you kidding?’ look. Normally it was Martha who would lose her temper. The one thing they’d always tried to do when raising Clark was not be the kind of parents who would allow their child to play one off against the other. If they made a decision they stuck to it. For her to be acting the more reasonable one, trying to smooth things over just didn’t sit well with him.


        He watched as Lana practically ran out the door and made Clark sit down at the counter, preparing for lecture mode. Martha again tried to smooth things over by asking if they were at least safe. Jonathan once more shot his wife a look of disbelief. Safe? There was far more to consider here than the two teenagers being safe. One, Clark wasn’t human, two, they had no idea If, however unlikely, Lana could get pregnant. They just didn’t know about Clark’s physiology or how Jor-El had suppressed their son’s powers. And if she did get pregnant, what would a child with Clark’s physiology do to her?


        This was going to take more than just a general birds and the bees talk. This was serious!


        He chewed on his bottom lip. He’d been so ready to take Clark out to the woodshed but then Chloe had turned up and of course, Clark being Clark, he had to go help his friend.

        That was the biggest regret Jonathan had. Practically the last words spoken to his son had been in anger and the thought that they would be the actual last words he’d ever said to his son …

        He remembered something Clark had said when Whitney Fordman had supposedly returned from Indonesia. He’d wondered aloud if he would have been just as courageous going off to fight in a war if he had no powers. Jonathan would say that Clark had proved it by facing what seemed like a mentally unstable kid and getting shot in the process.

        If he could just see his son now, he would tell him. Apologise for his earlier words, tell him how proud he was. If only …

        He held Martha’s hand and gazed tenderly at her. She was trying not to show how upset she was, but he could always tell. When she was really upset, her face would take on that stoicism. He stroked her long red locks, still struck by how it shone even in the glare of the fluorescent lights in the waiting room.

        Martha looked up and he turned his head, staring in disbelief as Lana came through, one hand reaching for the doorframe as if she needed it to hold her up. She was crying.

        Not Clark. Not my son, he thought.

        In the brief seconds, just as he heard Martha start to fall apart, he couldn’t help thinking about the deal he had once made with Jor-El. He’d paid a price with his health when he’d gone to Jor-El for help the summer Clark had run away. He’d done it before and he would do it again, he thought. Just bring my son back.

        “Mr and Mrs Kent.” The young doctor approached them. She was obviously trying to maintain a calm disposition but it was clearly never easy giving such news. “We did everything we could …”

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        • #79
          Something About Lois

          “Come on, Smallville! Pick those feet up!”

          Martha didn’t hear her son’s retort but couldn’t help smiling as she returned to the muffins she was baking.

          Lois Lane had pretty much entered their lives on a whirlwind. Martha had met her at the hospital the night Clark had returned to Smallville after being trapped in another world. At least, that was what he’d told her.

          She still didn’t know the full story of how Lois had found Clark that night and her son either couldn’t tell her or wouldn’t.

          She’d met Lois properly the next day when the girl had turned up at the farm, wanting to talk to Clark about her cousin.

          Since then, the general’s daughter had been a breath of fresh air for Clark, who – Martha had to say it – tended to brood sometimes. The snarky banter and snappy comebacks seemed to be just what the doctor ordered. It was as if her son had found someone who could not only pull him out of his dark moods, but also make him forget that he wasn’t ‘normal’.

          There was definitely something about Lois Lane. Martha was no clairvoyant, but she sensed something between the two of them. Something she doubted they could even see yet, but then, they had really only known each other a few months.

          The golden retriever they’d adopted could be heard barking happily and she assumed the pair had begun playing with the dog. She grinned as Lois sneezed, then cursed, quickly cutting off the cursing after Clark scolded her. Martha laughed to herself, thinking how different the pair were, yet so alike in many ways.

          She’d wondered if Lois was a bit lonely and that was maybe why she had eagerly accepted the invitation to stay with them for a while. At first, Martha had been surprised that Clark had even invited the girl, knowing how fiercely protective he was of his secret. Again, she felt it was something in Lois that brought out the best in Clark.

          Not so Lana, she thought, as she finished spooning the batter into muffin pans.

          As much as she liked the young brunette Clark had had a crush on since grade school, she had never really thought the girl was right for her son. Maybe she was over-protective mother but the continual angst and roller-coaster nature of their relationship just didn’t bode well. It hurt her to see her son so hurt when Lana would confront him over something to do with his secret and he’d have to lie. To her, it suggested the girl didn’t trust Clark. It was always why this and why that.

          Lois, on the other hand, just seemed to let things slide. Maybe it had only been a few months but Martha didn’t think it was possible for the military-raised young woman not to have noticed the strange things that went on. Especially when it involved Clark. Yet she had never once questioned it. Just proclaimed it ‘weird’ and filed it somewhere in the back of her mind.

          Jonathan came in as she put the muffins in the oven to bake. Without being asked, he began rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. Again the sound of Lois bossing Clark around drifted through the open windows and Martha snickered.

          “What’s so funny, sweetheart?” Jonathan asked.

          “Lois. Ever notice how much she bosses Clark around?”

          He laughed. “She does that a lot.” He exchanged a look with her as Clark retorted something. “Sounds to me like he gives as good as he gets.”

          She poured herself a cup of coffee, smiling as the teens laughed.

          “It’s good to hear him laughing. He doesn’t do that nearly enough.”

          Jonathan paused in wiping his hands to frown at her.

          “You don’t think there’s something going on between those two, do you?”

          She shook her head. “I don’t think they’re even aware of it.”

          Jonathan canted his head as a mock argument broke out.

          “You know, bickering like they do, some would call that foreplay.”

          “Jonathan Kent!”

          He grinned at her. “Come on, you were thinking it too!”

          “I was not!” she lied.

          He flicked the dish towel at her.

          “Fine, you weren’t. But you were.”

          She cocked an eyebrow at him as he playfully stalked her. He tried to capture her and she dodged him, laughing as he chased her into the parlour. She let him catch her and pull her into his arms for a passionate kiss.

          Clark and Lois chose that moment to come inside, followed by the dog. The pair stopped and stared, then Lois turned to Clark.

          “Close your eyes, Smallville. You wouldn’t want to get any ideas.”

          Clark scoffed. “In your dreams, Lane!”

          “Eww, like I would ever … Hell would have to freeze over, we’d have to be stuck on a desert island and you would have to be the last man on Earth.”

          Jonathan and Martha laughed as the teens continued to bicker on their way upstairs, racing to get to the bathroom. Shelby clearly thought it was a continuation of the game they’d been playing outside and barked as he pursued them.

          Martha stood in her husband’s embrace, listening to the voices as they fought over who got to use the bathroom first.

          “Kids, huh?” Jonathan said.

          “We were never like that,” she said.

          “No. You just conned me into thinking you needed my notes,” he replied. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I did end up with the most gorgeous girl on campus.”

          She turned to him. “You knew?”

          “Somebody eventually told me. I just never let on that I knew. Like I said, I’m not complaining. I was trying to think of a way to get you to talk to me and that was when you walked up.”

          He kissed her. “I don’t regret a day with you, Martha Kent. You are as beautiful now as you were the day we met.”

          She couldn’t help smiling at the love in her husband’s voice. Maybe she didn’t hear that in the exchanges between her son and their guest but she had a feeling one day she would. There was just something about Lois Lane. Something so right. She was sure that one day, Clark would see that too.

          Comment


          • #80
            Alicia

            Martha was more than a little upset. It wasn’t the fact that her son had been once again infected with red K. She knew what he was like under the influence of the stone. In a lot of ways, it was like a drug to him. The same way Jonathan would get sometimes if he had a little too much to drink at the Wild Coyote.

            Of course, Jonathan had never really done anything wild. The worst he’d ever done when he’d been drunk was to get a little amorous. When they’d first been married, Martha had laughed at his antics as he stumbled through the house, trying to dance with her and generally making an idiot of himself.

            Under red Kryptonite, however, Clark was something else. The first time had been a rebellion of sorts. Clark had revealed his feelings about never having the same things everyone else had. Of always having to be careful about money. When Martha had been young and naïve on the ways of the world, she had dreamed of being able to give her children everything they always wanted. Even though she knew of some children who did get exactly that and ended up spoiled brats.

            This time was far worse than acting like a spoiled teenager. In many ways worse than running away to Metropolis and robbing banks or automatic teller machines.

            He’d got married. To a girl who had, just a year ago, been sent to Belle Reve for trying to kill the girl Clark had always claimed he was in love with.

            Martha understood a little something about teenage love affairs and developing infatuations that sometimes only lasted until dinnertime. She also understood that Clark had wanted to be with someone who not only knew about his powers, but was his equal on some level.

            But to get married? To Alicia Baker?

            “It wasn’t legal,” Clark told her, a tear slipping from his eye.

            That wasn’t the point, she thought. Even as he poured his heart out about being able to be himself around Alicia, she was worried. She had no idea if this girl was really cured. And that fact that she not only knew about the red K, but had used it to try to persuade Clark to run away with her was dangerous.

            She wanted to believe her son when he told her that Alicia was completely cured of her psychotic break, but she still had doubts. Even when he told her a day or so later that Alicia had teleported in front of a bullet to save him from revealing his powers. Sure, those actions weren’t the actions of a girl so obsessed with someone that she would do anything to keep them. She had obviously accepted the fact that she and Clark could never really be. But there was still that niggling doubt.

            Martha thought those doubts were completely justified a couple of weeks later when Lana was attacked. Given their history, and the fact that it had happened in a locked bathroom, Martha was convinced it was Alicia.

            Clark, however, was adamant that Alicia was not behind the attacks and even defended her to the sheriff. Martha had no idea how to handle this. She didn’t trust Alicia and wasn’t happy that her son continued to date the girl, even though both she and Jonathan had made their feelings quite clear on the matter.

            Jonathan sighed as Clark stormed out.

            “I don’t know, Martha. If we keep trying to force him to stop seeing her …”

            “I know, I know,” she replied. “The more we tell him not to do something, the more he’s going to rebel. I just … I don’t know what to do.”

            Her husband wrapped his arms around her. “We’re just going to have to let him make his own decisions on this. He’s almost eighteen.”

            In the eyes of the law, of course, that made Clark an adult. Or almost. As much as Martha hated to admit it, she always knew that at one point she would have to accept the fact that her son wasn’t a little boy anymore and had to learn to make his own mistakes.

            That was half the problem. She still saw him as her little boy who needed her protection.

            Jonathan knew what she was thinking. As much as they still felt it was their job to protect their son, there would inevitably come a time when they had to let go and trust him to make his own decisions. Clark had demonstrated that quite clearly when he’d decided to join the football team that year.

            Jonathan had worried that his son might forget himself and do something to reveal his abilities, or hurt someone. The fact that he had been proved right in the end was irrelevant. Especially when it was revealed that the reason behind Clark’s stumble in the field, resulting in him breaking a boy’s collarbone, was a boy who had used some kind of hypnosis.

            Martha had continued to remind him that by not supporting his son, he was telling him that he didn’t trust his judgement.

            As much as he didn’t trust his son’s girlfriend, he realised that by trying to talk Clark out of dating the girl, they were telling him they didn’t trust his judgement.

            “Martha,” he said quietly. “I think we need to let Clark deal with this alone. I don’t trust the girl either, but we have to trust him. He’s not a little boy anymore.”

            “I know,” she said with a sigh.

            It was only a day or so later when they received some shocking news. Alicia Baker had been murdered and Clark had almost killed the boy responsible.

            Lois had been the one to break it to them. Chloe’s cousin was in her freshman year at Metropolis University. Clark had met her that summer when she had come to Smallville looking for answers into Chloe’s faked death.

            Jonathan listened, watching his wife’s face pale with shock as Lois revealed what had happened. She had gone out on a date with the boy, whose name was Tim. When the young man had begun talking about immoral behaviour and the attacks on Lana and Jason, she had put two and two together and realised Tim had been the one to attack them.

            She’d gone looking for Clark to tell him and found him at Alicia’s home in Granville. He’d been kneeling on the floor of the barn, holding the lifeless body of his girlfriend.

            “Anyway, I told him I thought I knew who had done it and he just took off. I figured I had to stop him before he did something he’d regret and called the sheriff on the way. I got there just in time.”

            “What do you mean, just in time?” Martha asked.

            “He was strangling the guy. I mean, yeah, the guy’s a murderer but I didn’t think … I mean, I didn’t want Clark going to prison, even if it was sort of justified. So I begged him to stop. And he did.”

            Jonathan was impressed. While Clark and Lois appeared to have kind of an adversarial relationship, she just seemed to have a way of bringing out the best in Clark.

            The sheriff stopped by the next day.

            “I’m guessin’ you heard what happened with Miss Baker.”

            She went on to explain that initially the police had thought it was suicide, but some things didn’t add up. An autopsy had uncovered cotton fibres in her nose, which meant she’d been rendered unconscious by someone before being hung. The ligature mark around her neck also showed she had slowly been strangled by the rope, instead of her neck being broken by the fall.

            Jonathan looked at Martha. Clark was in the barn, where he had been since he’d come home. They had no idea how to deal with his grief.

            “Maybe we should just let him be for now,” he suggested quietly.

            After two days, however, it was apparent Clark wasn’t interested in coming back down from his self-imposed isolation. Jonathan knew they had to do something.

            Together, they went up to the loft. Clark was listlessly bouncing a ball back and forth.

            “Hey son,” he said, keeping his tone gentle.

            “How are you doing, sweetheart?” Martha said.

            Clark shrugged.

            Jonathan still had no idea what to do but told his son that none of it had been his fault. It was obvious from what Clark said next that he blamed himself. That Alicia would still be alive if he had done what she wanted.

            Martha shook her head and patted his knee gently.

            “Sweetheart, no. You don’t know that for sure. Even if you had gone to the sheriff, it might still have happened. You can’t do this to yourself. Alicia wouldn’t want you to either.”

            “You don’t understand. You never trusted her and you didn’t like her. I … I loved her.”

            Jonathan knew he should tread carefully with this. Clark might have thought he loved her, but he felt it was more an infatuation.

            “Clark, I’m sorry for the things I said about Alicia. You were right. We didn’t trust her.”

            Clark looked up at them, his eyes swimming with unshed tears.

            “We can’t take that back,” Jonathan said gently.

            “No one in town believed in her,” his son said miserably.

            Martha held him as he began sobbing. “I know, sweetheart. You were the only one who believed in her and now she’s gone. I know you’re not ready to hear this right now, but things will get better. I promise.”

            Jonathan nodded. Together the couple held their grieving son. It would take time, but eventually he would be able to move on.

            Maybe the rest of the town would never really know or understand the events that had led to her death, but Jonathan was damned sure that no one would ever forget. The poor girl was dead not because of her own actions, but because someone wanted to escape punishment for his own terrible deeds. They’d all misjudged Alicia and that was something they all needed to face.

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            • #81
              Warning: Major Character death.

              Why?

              Her hands were shaking. She had spent three days crying almost non-stop and was almost cried out. She was tired. Exhausted. Yet even though she felt like she had no more tears left, she couldn’t stop.


              She gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She’d put on make-up to hide her pallor but it couldn’t really hide the shadows under her eyes. She couldn’t sleep. She hadn’t been able to sleep since that night.

              It had to be a nightmare. This wasn’t real. She kept feeling as if she was going to wake up and he’d be there, right by her side. On his back, snoring. Something he would have completely denied.


              As she turned to leave the bedroom, she spied a flannel shirt he’d left on the dresser. She’d asked him time and time again to put his shirts in the hamper but he always forgot. Used to forget.


              She picked up the shirt, pressing the soft fabric to her face. She’d always used dryer sheets that brought out the softness in the material. She could smell the light scent of the detergent and something else that was so uniquely … him.


              He was all around her. She could still smell his aftershave on the pillow. At night she would lay hugging his pillow to her body, hoping it would be comforting. It wasn’t comforting. It was just a reminder that he wasn’t there and would never be again.


              God, it hurt. She had never really believed in the whole idea of a bond where if one partner was hurt, the other partner would feel it. Yet she did feel it. A physical pain down deep. Cramping her stomach. A sharp jab in the chest, causing her to clench a fist, laying it over her heart as if she could somehow catch the pain.


              A broken heart. That’s what it was, she thought.


              A horn beeped and she stepped over to the window, pulling back the net curtain to look out over the yard. A limousine had pulled up. They were supposed to take it to the …


              If she squinted, she could just see the animals in the field. It had been snowing heavily for a couple of days and the snowdrifts were deep. She wanted to feel sorry for the animals, but she couldn’t. She just felt numb.


              As much as she wanted to be strong for her son, she couldn’t. She could see her own pain mirrored in his eyes as he sat down with her on the couch. They’d barely spoken since it happened. She knew he blamed himself. He’d told her what he’d done, but how could he have possibly known the outcome?


              How could he sit there blaming himself when there were just so many other reasons why?


              They left the house, sitting in the back of the limousine. He held her hand. It was almost as if he was trying to give her some of his strength and at the same time drawing some from her. As they passed through town, she could see people on the streets. It was cold but the teenagers didn’t seem to mind. They were talking, laughing, going about their lives as if this was just a normal day.


              It wasn’t a normal day, she thought. Not for her. She didn’t think it would ever be a normal day again. She knew the world didn’t stop spinning just because of what happened. Time didn’t stand still, no matter how much she wanted it to. Yet she resented them for not even acknowledging that today, of all days, meant everything to the two figures in the back of the limousine.


              She could only watch as people spoke, talking about his kindness, his strength, his sense of community spirit. He’d lived a life well-loved. As much as she loved the beautiful words, the way the people talked about him, they washed over her. She barely registered even the presence of those she’d been close to. Lois, Chloe, Lana. She even thought she saw Lex and Lionel. Both men had little reason to even be here, but they’d come anyway to pay their respects. Even Nell, who she had barely got along with at the best of times, had come. The other woman nodded at her but didn’t approach. She nodded in reply, acknowledging that in this, at least, they could put aside their differences.


              She wanted to fall to her knees, even in the cold snow, and scream at him. Why? Why did you leave me? She knew there would be no answer.


              Back at the farmhouse, she did her best to greet those who had come afterwards. A few of their friends tried to talk to her about him. To share stories. Someone else had taken over hosting duties so she didn’t have to lift a finger. She needed to do something. Anything. Just to feel.


              It was dark by the time she had had enough and she went to lie down. She laid on the bed, his pillow next to her. The tears fell freely as the scents surrounded her, bringing up memories of their life together. She could still remember his laugh. Remember the day they found out they couldn’t have children. The day they’d found their son. The trials, the joys.


              “Oh, Jonathan,” she wailed. “Why? We were supposed to grow old together!”


              There was no answer.
              Last edited by phoenixnz; 11-16-2020, 01:04 AM.

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              • #82
                a/n: This is mostly offscreenville in Vengeance. As for the offer, I do think it's the right choice, for the reasons stated in the dialogue.

                Choices

                “Mrs Kent … Martha … I want you to know how deeply sorry I am for your loss.”

                Martha bit her lip, not quite sure what to say in response. Governor Harris was obviously trying to be kind and she appreciated the sentiment, but the pain of Jonathan’s loss was just too raw.

                It didn’t help that she was worried about Clark. It was over a week since the funeral and Clark hadn’t said much. He’d just gone out to the barn to do his chores and work on the tractor. Doing anything instead of dealing with the pain he was feeling.

                What was worse was that he had spent most of a night searching for the men who had mugged her in Suicide Slum.

                Governor Harris had seen the bruise but thankfully hadn’t commented on it. She figured he was being discreet.

                The man continued.

                “Martha, as you know, with Jonathan’s death, that leaves his senate seat open. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not have to go through another election. These are very unusual circumstances, but not unprecedented.”

                “I understand.”

                “Yes, I’m sure you do.” He looked down at a stack of documents. “In fact, I’ve had a look at your background. Your father is an attorney.”

                “Retired, but yes.”

                “You were also studying law, I believe. Why did you never finish your studies?”

                “I really didn’t want to be a lawyer,” she said. “It was more my father’s wish than mine.”

                “But you worked as a law clerk.”

                “For about a year,” she said, not wanting to explain how that came about or why she ended up leaving.

                She had no idea where the man was going with this line of questioning.

                “Martha, as you know, the government gives me certain powers under state legislature. Especially in such circumstances. It falls on me to appoint a replacement for Jonathan, and frankly, I did not think the likes of Lex Luthor would be qualified. You, on the other hand, are far more qualified, given your background. What I’m asking, Martha, is whether you would be interested in taking Jonathan’s seat.”

                She stared at him in shock. “Me? I … I don’t know what to say.”

                “I know you need time to think it over.”

                “What’s the alternative?”

                “We’d have to hold a special election. Given the state finances, I’d be reluctant to do so.”

                She nodded. While senatorial candidates had to fund their own campaigns, there were still costs the state government had to cover during an election. If Jonathan had died mid-term, it might have made more sense to hold a special election.

                Governor Harris stood. “Martha, I know how difficult things are for you right now, but I wouldn’t be offering you this if I didn’t think you were the right person for the job. You’re smart, you’re gregarious and from what I’ve heard, very well liked in your community.”

                She agreed to think it over, promising to give him her answer in a few days. She really wanted to talk to Clark about it.

                As she returned home, she couldn’t help thinking over the past few months. When Jack Jennings had suggested Jonathan put himself forward as a candidate, she hadn’t been happy. There had been so many things to consider. Not just his health. There was Clark, too. She’d always be worried that someone might discover Clark’s secret.

                Having Lex as Jonathan’s opponent had been bad enough. As much as Martha felt sympathy for the young man, she had always been worried that he might dig up too much. He had a curious nature, which was understandable, but also a cynical one, born from his upbringing.

                She wasn’t sure about accepting the offer. Jonathan’s campaign had been costly and the farm’s finances were not looking healthy. But what was the alternative? If the Governor appointed someone like Lex … She just didn’t relish the thought of Lex in the position. It wasn’t just the fact that he wasn’t really qualified. One of the things about Jonathan’s campaign that she did agree with was that he had talked about helping all his constituents. Lex would focus on big business, at the expense of farms such as their own.

                He was so different from the young man Clark had befriended more than four years ago.

                When Lionel turned up at the farm, she wondered if perhaps the man had been wanting the money she had borrowed from him. While he claimed not, she couldn’t help thinking that he had an ulterior motive for his sudden change of heart.

                Clark had told her what had happened at the fortress. How Jor-El had somehow taken over Lionel’s mind. She wondered if the possession, for that was what it was, had done something to the man. Rewired his brain, somehow. It didn’t make sense. Not from the man she’d always known to be fairly ruthless.

                Even as he encouraged her to think carefully about her decision whether or not to take the senate seat, she couldn’t help wondering what game he was playing.

                Still not knowing what to do, she decided to watch some old home movies, hoping that Jonathan might somehow tell her what to do. Ever since the funeral, she’d been talking to him, or his spirit. Not that she really thought he was still around.

                She was watching the video she’d made when Clark was five. The day his father had taken him out on the tractor. The memory was a happy one, but it was painful at the same time.

                Her attention was drawn to Clark standing in the middle of the living room, watching the scene unfold. As the figure on the screen waved goodbye to the camera, she saw the dam burst. Clark was crying.

                Her gaze moved to the watch on his wrist. The very watch that had been stolen from her when she’d been mugged. Jonathan’s watch. Clark must have found it.

                She rose from the couch and stood on her toes, wrapping her arms around her son’s neck and holding him close as he sobbed. She knew that if he could cry, he could finally start to move on.
                They both cried for a long time, their tears helping to start the healing.

                Once they calmed down, Martha made them each a hot drink. She told Clark of the Governor’s offer.

                “I think he’s right, Mom,” Clark said quietly. “You are qualified.”

                “I don’t know. What about the farm?”

                “I can take care of that. I’m not going back to school.”

                “Clark …”

                “Mom, I can’t face going back. Not now. Maybe in a year or two. Just not now.”

                “This isn’t what your father would have wanted. You know he always thought there was more for you than this farm.”

                “I know, Mom. But this is something I have to do. I’m not ready for anything else right now.”

                She wasn’t sure she was ready, either. But Jonathan wouldn’t want her to put her life on hold. She couldn’t do anything about Clark’s decision. He was eighteen. He would eventually figure out whether he’d made the right choice or not.

                Whether his spirit was there or not, Martha felt Jonathan had found a way to tell her what he thought about the offer.

                She accepted.

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