*******
Stretching out on the bed with Martha curled up near his head, Jonathan realized just how tired he was. It had been a long day, not just in hours but in the emotional turmoil stirred to life within them, and it wasn't over yet. How could he lie here so comfortably when Clark was wracked with pain brought on in part by Jonathan himself--by his complicity, if not by an actual deed?
"What if he doesn't get better?" He voiced the question so quietly it was almost inaudible. It was a matter that needed to be addressed--perhaps--but he said it more to hear the determination and faith in Martha's vehement denial.
"He will, Jonathan! He'll be fine."
Inexplicably reassured, Jonathan felt himself relax. "Good," he murmured softly.
"I wish this were all over," Martha confessed almost as softly. "I don't know how other parents do this--I can't bear to see him hurting."
"You've done everything you can to help him, Martha; I think that's what all parents do. I just wish I had done better myself."
"What?" Martha drew back to study his face. "What would make you say that, Jonathan?"
"I told Lois that Clark was cautious because of his fear--well, I'm the one who made him afraid. I spent so much time warning him to be careful, telling him not to let other people know...does he know how much I love him? Does he think that I was ashamed of him? I didn't want him to be Superman--does he think I'm not proud of him? He apologized to me, Martha--he *apologized* for not being stronger. Have I made him feel like he isn't enough?"
"That's ridiculous," Martha pronounced with that certainty she always possessed, that assurance that the world was ordered in the way it should be. It was the quality that had first attracted Jonathan to her. "Who spent hours in the cold snow and the hot sun alike helping him learn how to control his powers? Who assured him that it was the man under the Suit--the man, not the powers--that we loved? Who did his best to reassure him the first time he lost his powers due to the Kryptonite? Who is there for him every time he needs him, allowing him to talk about his desires for a family and his fears about the kind of man he is? Clark knows you love him, Jonathan, and he depends on that love so much that I know he doesn't doubt it. Clark didn't learn how to be a superhero by watching television or reading books, you know; he learned from the example that has been in his life for as long as he can remember."
Words escaped him, and Jonathan turned his head into Martha's hair to hide the blatant emotion on his face. "I love you," he whispered.
She willingly clung to him. "And I love you, Jonathan. We'll get through this."
"You know," he whispered, "I see Clark leaning on Lois, depending on her to give him the determination to continue on, the fire to right the wrongs of the world--he looked for a woman with the same strengths you possess. I'm glad he can depend on her the same way I depend on you."
"Oh, Jonathan." Martha kissed him lightly, and they held each other a moment more before settling in to snatch what few moments of rest they could.
The ringing of a phone sliced through the tense tranquility that always occurred in those restless hours between divergent storm-fronts. Jonathan sat up, instantly awake, and grabbed the phone. "Hello?" he answered, doing his best to keep from hoping too much. "Yeah, Sam?"
A withdrawn breath and a hand on his arm made him start to look back to Martha, but the movement was halted by Sam's next words.
"He what?" Jonathan demanded, certain he had heard wrong. But he hadn't.
In one instant, with two words, the world was righted. Everything was returned to normal; the catastrophe was averted; the sun began to once more shine. It was as if, in that instant, Jonathan suddenly remembered how to breathe again.
He turned to grin at Martha, showing her the depths of his relief and joy and seeing it reflected in her face as the tension completely drained from her body. "Yes!" he exclaimed even as he moved to hang up the phone. "Lois!" he called, eager to share his newfound optimism and exuberance with everyone else, eager to banish the terror from Lois as it had been banished from him and his wife.
Lois was already moving toward them, their paths converging in the kitchen. "I know," she said, her eyes alight with more life than they had held since she had called them for help. "I know--he's awake!"
Jonathan paused mid-step. "How did you know?"
"I'm going over there!" Lois pronounced, whirling to find her coat.
"We're right behind you!" Martha already had her coat halfway on, but she paused to put a mug of cold coffee into the microwave. "Oh, oh, you're half-asleep--take some coffee."
"Okay, thanks." Lois's words were only half-hearted; she probably hadn't even really heard what Martha had said. The realization that Clark had woken from his coma and that he was improving seemed to suddenly sink into Lois's mind, and a breathtaking smile erased the fear and exhaustion from her features. "Oh. He's going to be all right. He's going to be all right!"
"We both know it." Martha accepted her hug with her own beautiful smile, and Jonathan basked in the warmth from both, feeling himself grow strong and content as a result.
Lois was already gone again, flitting from the embrace to grab her shoes.
"Don't forget your coffee!" Martha called out, ready to start mothering everyone else again now that it seemed Clark was on the mend. She turned and opened the microwave to scoop up the cup with both hands. Her smile hadn't yet disappeared, and it didn't--until a noxious scream was emitted from the microwave to crawl inside their minds and rip them to shreds.
Accompanied by the sound of shattering glass and the comforting scent of coffee, Jonathan felt his body begin to fall. He was helpless to stop it, helpless to keep himself upright; it was as if all cohesion, all balance had been obliterated before the path of the whining shriek carving its way through his head to scrape the confines of his being.
As abruptly as it had begun, the agonizing sound was gone.
Jonathan lifted his head--dimly aware that he had regained the ability to do so--and looked around him. Only gradually did he realize that a breeze had dispersed the smell of coffee, two windows were now splinters of wood and glass, and the microwave was gone. He hadn't even managed to take a full breath or regain his feet when a blur of familiar colors swooped in through one of the demolished windows and landed in the living room.
For a moment, Jonathan feared he was dreaming, or perhaps dead, but Sam's words echoed once more through his mind: 'He's awake.'
He wanted to say Clark's name, but his mouth had dried and his throat had closed up, making speech impossible. But who needed speech? It wasn't enough, not nearly enough compared to the feel of his son's strong arms around him and the sound of his healthy breathing and the sight of his silvery-brown eyes filled with their usual vitality and concern.
"Are you all right?" Clark managed a quick glance at his parents, but his attention was mostly on Lois. Not that Jonathan was inclined to be picky.
"Are *you* all right?" Lois demanded, pulling herself upright only incidentally as she threw herself into his welcoming embrace. "Oh, we thought we were going to lose you!"
Ordinarily, Jonathan would have allowed them a moment, but he had almost lost his son, and all his patience had been exhausted in the hours watching the Kryptonite fight for dominance over Superman. Without a second thought, he joined Clark and Lois's hug, putting his arm around Clark and trying to convince himself that it was real--that Superman had once more miraculously emerged unscathed against all odds.
"Oh, boy, you had us worried," he managed to say, caught between jubilance and residual worry.
"We were *terrified*!" Martha exclaimed as she, too, reacquainted herself with the feel of her son's embrace.
Clark hugged both his parents, but he kept his hand in Lois's, and his first words were directed to her. "Your dad's theory was right, Lois; he saved my life."
Jonathan smiled and shook his head. Leave it to Clark to be more interested in repairing Lois's relationship with her father than relief that he had survived.
"And you saved ours," Lois said softly with a glance to the Kents.
Clark smiled self-consciously, and Jonathan's breath caught in his throat at the sight of it.
His son was smiling.
It didn't matter that Sam's android had recorded the voice of the man who had implanted the lethal device in the microwave, or that Superman immediately left to arrest the assassin, or that Lois followed him, both of them eager to stop the villains and publish the story, neither one willing to slow down and rest after the traumatic event that had almost destroyed their lives. What mattered was that Clark was alive, and he was well, and he was smiling. What mattered was that when their adventure was over, Clark returned to the apartment with Lois at his side, and he smiled again at his parents.
And, somehow, some way, strangely, miraculously, when Clark hugged Jonathan, all the pain and the fear and the worry of the last twenty-four hours were gone, the scars healed. And Jonathan was no longer broken, but whole once again.
The End
Disclaimer: Portions of dialogue are taken from Home Is Where The Hurt Is, written by William M. Akers and Eugenie Ross-Leming & Brad Buckner.