Thank you to Demi for inspiring me to write this little fix it ficlet. Prompted by our mutual frustration that Jonathan didn't close the box of Kryptonite after Clark got sick in GGGOH.
---
He Closed The Box
Jonathan crossed the barn floor in purposeful strides, trying to ignore the confusing alarm bells going off in his mind.
There was just something about this rock.
From the moment Wayne Irig showed him the damn thing, his nervous system had been set on edge. It's unearthly glow, combined with the dishevelled state of it's owner, screamed danger.
But he couldn't hide it from Clark, could he?
As much as he wanted to protect his son - like he had been his whole life - those folks up at Irigs property weren't going away on their own.
Clark needed to know what was going on.
The full truth, no matter what it meant.
'Wayne Irig found a rock on his property last week,' he explained. 'He sent a sample of it on to Wichita for analysis. Then the feds showed up.'
Jonathan paused beside his workbench. His eyes stayed fixed on the metal container on top, surrounded by various toolshed items in an effort to make it look less conspicuous.
They had no idea how long it would be before someone came here looking for it. Nor what harm could be caused if it fell into the wrong hands.
Dread coiled in his stomach, despite his best attempts to reason with himself.
It was just a damn rock for God's sake!
The toolbox was even cased in lead. Wayne had thrown it inside the nearest container made of the alloy, just in case there was any low level radiation coming off the thing. So far, it seemed harmless enough. But Jonathan still thought it sensible to continue keeping it protected.
And to limit exposure.
Clark shook his head as he tried to process what he was hearing. 'It doesn't make any sense. Why go to all that trouble for a rock?'
Jonathan sighed. 'Because the preliminary report said it was some kind of meteorite. Wayne thought it might be worth money.'
Of course it was money. What else would it be these days?
Not that he could blame Wayne for thinking about the potential profit to be made. There wasn't a farm in town escaping financial trouble after the winter they just had.
Jonathan turned to meet his sons curious, and somewhat concerned, gaze.
'He gave it to me for safekeeping after those government types started pushing him around,' Jonathan continued in a low voice. 'I figure since it was found a few miles from where we found you that it was probably related.'
He let the words sink in, a surge of emotion causing a lump in his throat. His son's eyes lit up with a hunger to understand more.
Jonathan placed a hand on the box. The lid felt cool to the touch, and he felt himself shiver. As soon as his fingers linked through the handle, his internal alarm bells dialled up so violently he had to squeeze the metal in his grip to stop from shaking.
What the hell was going on with him? Why was he so afraid to open this box and let his son see this damn thing?
'Because the more he learns about himself, the more afraid you are that you'll lose him,' a voice whispered inside him.
He knew it was true.
With sheer force of will, Jonathan squashed aside his fear and opened the tool box.
The rock's luminescent glow immediately bathed them in it's sickly shade of green. The light it generated throbbed, dimming and pulsing with the rhythm of a heartbeat.
It was practically alive.
Beautiful, really.
Jonathan couldn't help but stare into it. It's crystalline structure was like a complex kaleidoscope of diamonds inside.
Almost hypnotic.
After a few seconds, he was pulled from the rocks thrall by a strange, foreign sound. Jonathan's gaze darted towards his son, horrified to find him inexplicably hunched over.
The expression on Clark's face was one he'd never seen before, and it chilled him to the bone.
His son was in pain.
'Dad, I'm feeling kind of strange.'
Clark followed the wheezy statement with a sudden grunt of pain, backing away from the sickly green light, hand flying to his stomach.
'Clark, what is it?' Jonathan asked, his racing heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest.
His son looked up at him pleadingly, like he hoped his Dad might have the answers he did not. He'd never been hurt before. Never been sick. Whatever sensations he was experiencing were completely foreign to him.
But Jonathan had no idea what to do, what had caused-
Wait...
Jonathan's gaze drifted back over to the rock.
'My God, do you think it's because of this?'
As soon as he voiced the realisation, his body acted on autopilot. Jonathan reached for the lid, slamming it shut and pressing down on top of it with both hands as though it might spring back open otherwise.
He kicked himself for not listening to his instincts. For not trusting the danger his body had been communicating.
Why had the thought not occured to him that the stuff could be physically dangerous to his son?
Just because it hadn't caused a reaction in anyone else...
But Clark's not like anyone else.
Jonathan turned back to face him, mortified to see it was already too late.
He hadn't acted fast enough.
Clark's eyes were closed, his body crumpling to the ground. He landed in a heap just shy of a pile of hay bails that might have cushioned the fall.
Jonathan rushed to his side.
'Clark! What's happening?'
He cradled his sons face in one hand, feeling for a pulse with the other. It was faint, but there. Clark was out cold, barely breathing.
But breathing.
He had to be okay. Clark was Superman, he was going to be okay.
'Martha!' Jonathan screamed in the direction of the farmhouse.
He didn't care who heard him. He needed his wife's level head. All he could do was wait, staring at the entrance to the barn, hoping she heard the panic in his tone. As gently as he could, he rested his son's head against his knee, cooing soft words of reassurance.
Maybe more for himself than for Clark.
Whispered words repeated like a broken record.
'My boy... my boy...'
But he didn't stir.
The End
---
Comments welcome below! Hope you enjoyed this brain worm!
Last edited by blg1987; 02/20/26 07:37 PM.
