“Don’t be sorry,” Jonathan gruffed softly. “You came in here like a shadow. Scared me to death. Hardly recognized you, all hunched and dark and pale like that. Th-thought I was seeing a ghost or something, or that they might have beat your spirit, which is even worse. But…you’re in there. You’re still the boy we raised, no matter what they do and say. That’s your true strength, Clark Kent. Not that you can lift rockets or bend metal with your bare hands—you’re Clark. My son. A good, strong boy with good raising. No matter what, you’re who you are. You’ll be all right.” He sighed again. “You’ll be all right.”
Clark wanted to cry.
“I…I wish I knew that, Dad.”
“It’s like what you said,” Jonathan replied, his voice slurring slightly. “You can hope, Clark. That…that’s really all of us have got. Don’t you ever stop hoping. And with that hope, you do what you know is right. You might be the man of steel but your mother and I know you have the most gentle heart as anyone beneath that. Keep that heart, son. You were sent here for a reason. You can’t let a little fear get in the way of the good you can do, or evil really does win, no matter how many times you’re able to escape with your life.” He smiled. “You’ll be all right.”
Bravo! Bravo! That's a beautifully written moment. Way to go Dad. Reminding Clark of his real strength.
A wonderful christmas present!
doublel
