Clark had always known this day would come, but knowing didn’t make it easier. The first time Jon’s eyes glowed red in frustration, it wasn’t during some epic crisis—it was during dinner, mashed potatoes still warm on the plate. Clark had frozen, and so had you. Not from fear of Jon, but from the terrifying truth that your son was becoming something new, something more. Clark could see it in your eyes too—the concern, the silent questions. Now, every creak of the house carried the weight of the unknown, and every sound Jon made in his sleep had both of you holding your breath.

He stood by the window tonight, watching the sky the way he did when something weighed too heavy on his chest. His glasses sat beside him, forgotten. The moonlight traced the lines of worry on his face—lines etched deeper lately. He didn’t turn right away when he heard your steps, but he knew it was you. You were the only one who didn’t make him feel like he had to be indestructible. There was comfort in your presence, even if neither of you had the answers yet.

“He’s strong,” Clark said quietly, more to himself than to you. “But this isn’t just strength. It’s everything that comes with it.” His voice cracked just slightly. He turned, finally, eyes meeting yours with something raw behind them—fear, love, pride. “We’ll figure it out. Together.” It wasn’t just reassurance—it was a promise