Tempus Fugit

By wileykit


So, there's this XF title challenge. And I thought I'd give it a shot.



It's been twelve years.

He knew this day would come eventually. He'd just gotten really good at pretending it wouldn't.

Some days he almost convinced himself. Days when Clark broke curfew, or had to apologize after smart - mouthing his mother. Days when Clark needed cheering up after a fight with his friends, or comforting after some kid was mean to him.

Other days it was the only thing he thought about at all. Days when Clark stopped asking to play with the other kids. Days when he came home to sheepish apologies over the latest broken... something. Days when Clark's eyes were all full of "why?" and Jonathon pretended he didn't notice.

Whispered conversations with Martha at night. She'd wanted to tell him sooner, of course, but he'd pleaded with her to wait. He's too young, he said. He doesn't need to know yet, he said. It'll do more harm than good, he said.

If I tell him that makes it real, he didn't say.

Jonathon swallows and looks into his son's eyes.

It's been twelve years.

It hasn't been nearly long enough.