Its not fair.
Smallville, Kansas 1997
Clark and his parents were finishing up breakfast as Clark noticed the time, "Crap, gotta go."
Jonathan had his hand in his wallet to get Clark's lunch money but he was already gone, "Kid moves too fast now days."
Martha grinned as she started to clear the plates, "I'll do that, you have way more to do today than me anyway."
Martha scoffed, "Keep that up and I might just think you're considerate."
Jonathan looked up, "Shh, I have a reputation to maintain."
She laughed as he pulled her in for a kiss. Afterwards she grabbed her jacket and headed out the door. Jonathan finished putting away the dishes and turned on the news, ".... Still being vague about Wayne's whereabouts. In lighter news, We've had four more sightings of the so called red winged angel, its become a bit of a world wide phenomenon in the past month, with several witnesses claiming to have been rescued from certain death..."
Jonathan sat down and grinned. He looked to Krypto, "Our boy is gonna do great things."
Clark pulled up and walked in the house and noticed the sound of Krypto whimpering in the front room, "Hey, what's the matter boy?"
He then looked over to the couch and saw Jonathan laying back with Krypto nuzzling him. Clark shook his head, "Dad...."
Jonathan didn't respond, a feeling of dread filled Clark as he walked over, "C'mon dad, wake up."
He went to shake him and felt his cold skin. Panic overtook Clark, "No, no c'mon dad, get up, please get up."
Martha came in the front door, "Hey boys I got a...., Clark?"
She entered the front room and saw Clark on his knees next to the couch, "What's wrong?"
She then noticed Jonathan, "Oh my god, Jonathan."
She grabbed the phone and called 911.
Clark and Martha sat in silence as the paramedics wrapped Jonathan in a sheet. As they took him out Martha broke down in tears. Clark wanted to as well, he wanted to scream but he didn't, he wrapped an arm around his mother and let her cry for them both.
At the funeral, it was a nice sunny day, Martha commented that Jonathan would've liked it. Clark didn't speak to anyone, he barely felt real. Like he was trapped in a nightmare that refused to end. Despite his silence he showed no emotion, holding it all in to the point of bursting.
Once everyone had gone he told his mother to go ahead without him as he stared at the casket being lowered. He started walking, for a moment he seemed okay but then he broke. He shot into the air not caring if anyone saw him or not and blasted toward the fortress, Martha looked to the air as she heard the sonic boom.
Moments later he arrived at the fortress and demanded, "Jor-El, I need your help."
The hologram appeared, "How can I be of service?"
"I need my dad back."
The hologram replied, "Jor-El has been......"
"No, My real dad. Jonathan Kent."
The hologram asked, "Has he gone missing?"
The hologram replied, "You have my condolences, I am sorry but I am incapable of the action you asked."
Clark slammed his foot down rattling the fortress, "You can try."
The hologram took a stern tone, "While Kryptonian technology is advanced, we were never capable of reversing death."
Clark dropped to his knees and finally let himself cry.
Clark arrived at home and found Martha sitting in the dark in the chair across from the couch. She looked up to Clark, "You know, he was always proud."
Clark looked over, "What?"
"He was always proud, of the house, the farm, our family but I'd never seen him so proud as the first time he saw one of those red winged angel sightings on the news."
Clark came in and patted Krypto as he laid on the couch, he had hardly moved from that spot since Jonathan died. Clark looked at his mother, "I was thinking of slowing down with that......"
"Don't you dare, I've already hired some hands to help with the farm, I'll keep it going just fine. You keep doing what you're doing, if you start to question it, remember you're doing it for him. Cause I can promise you he'd be pissed at you if you let him be your excuse to hide out here."
Clark stepped out on the porch and sat in a chair. He then pulled the glasses out of his pocket and remembered his father handing them to him after staying up late to make them. Clark slid them on his face as slumped back in the chair.
(To be continued)