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Chapter 15: Forgiveness
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It was so simple he couldn't believe he hadn't realized it before. It was so difficult he didn't know if he had the power to see it done here. And yet he had to try. For the sake of his son, Perry had to do his utmost to accept a heartfelt apology and offer the one thing he hadn't yet--forgiveness.

Forgiveness.

Perry turned the word over and over in his head, mulling over the meaning and implications of the three-syllable word.

It meant letting go.

It meant moving on.

It meant loving without reservation.

And that just wasn't something Perry White, Editor-in-chief, was very good at doing.

He was good at ignoring things. Good at pretending they had never happened or didn't matter. Good at putting up a bold front that denied the fact there was a problem.

But that wasn't true forgiveness.

And he needed to learn how to forgive. For Jerry's sake. For Jimmy's sake. For his own sake.

Jerry was waiting for acceptance and absolution from the father he had betrayed in order to fully move past his criminal mistakes.

Jimmy wanted a hand on his shoulder, a word of approval, and a smile from his Chief in order to believe that he hadn't irrevocably damaged something between them.

And Perry needed some resolution to the awful guilt and shame and fury that had been broiling within him since his son had attacked Superman and his protégé had gone behind his back to investigate. He needed to forgive--not only them--but also himself.

"Pops, you came back!" Despite the pleased grin on Jerry's face, Perry could sense a certain vulnerability present in his son, the same that had been there when he had, in his younger years, presented his father with a report card or a trophy. As if he were waiting for approval while knowing he was unlikely to get as much as he wanted.

"Son..." Perry had to clear his throat, locking his gaze with Jerry's to let him know how serious he was. The last time he had stared at his son so intently was when he had handed him his retirement check. This time, Perry was determined things would end better. "Jerry, I'll always come back," he promised his son.

Jerry's eyes lit up, yet still he waited, that awful, half-fearful patience evident in his posture and expression.

Perry stood, disliking the feeling of sitting in judgment of Jerry. He wished he were better at this sort of thing, but as Jimmy had said, there were quite a few similarities between Perry and Lois. Unlike her, however, Perry was alone; he didn't have anyone to help him through this as she did. The patience of his Clark Kent--Alice--had ran out when she had grown tired of waiting for her husband to notice her, to stop his never-ending search for the perfect edition and realize that he already had something so much more important than a newspaper. She had given up and divorced him and left him alone to gaze into the hopeful, guilty eyes of their son.

But, like Lois, Perry refused to give up.

"I'm always coming back," he said again, bending to rest his hand on Jerry's shoulder, feeling the tension of bunched muscles beneath his palm. "What you did was...well, it was wrong, I won't deny that. But I forgive you. And I'm here for you. I'll be there at your trial, sitting right behind you. And I'll visit you until you've served your time. And then I'll be there to welcome you home and help you really, truly start anew. Jerry, I'm on your side--and I'm sorry if I ever left you with any other impression."

"Dad..." With a quick glance to the hovering guards, Jerry stood and pulled Perry into a hug. This time, Perry didn't stand there with his hands held awkwardly to the side, frozen in indecision, shame, and confused resentment. This time, he wrapped his son in a full embrace and granted them both absolution.

Then, before the guards could grow too nervous, they both laughed and separated and laughed again. Then they sat, and Perry told his son what had happened--most of which Jerry had read in the paper--and Jerry asked about Beirut, and they spent an hour trading anecdotes from their individual pasts and jointly recalling shared memories. And this time, when Perry left the prison, he didn't leave behind a stranger in a building that represented despair and loss; this time, he bid temporary farewell to his son and left a place that would one day give him back that same son.

Handing the Kryptonite articles over to Dr. Klein and seeing them safely locked away in a new, improved vault had been liberating. But knowing that the next time he came to see Jerry, he'd find a friend waiting for him...that was even more freeing. More amazing.

More healing.

"Chief! Chief!"

Perry frowned when he saw Jimmy hurrying toward him from the parking lot. "Jimmy? What are you doing here?"

"Chief, you'll never guess who called your office! Oh, and they said they sent a letter--a formal notice for him--but that hasn't arrived yet. Anyway, I can't believe it!"

"Well, maybe *I* could," Perry said dryly, "if you'd tell me what this is all about. Come on, son, what's got you higher than a cat's back?"

"It's amazing--though, come to think of it, I can't believe he's never gotten it before. I'll have to ask them why not."

"Jimmy," Perry began, but Jimmy was too excited to take notice.

"It's amazing, Chief! They called you because they figured the Daily Planet would be able to get word to him more easily."

"Jimmy!" The editor put a bit of a growl in his voice and finally received a bit of notice from the kid. Good thing Jimmy's writing had been more focused than his rambling, he thought exasperatedly.

"Well," Jimmy began, unable to curtail the beaming grin that made him look even younger than he was. "Superman's just won the International Peace Prize! They're going to give it to him next week!"

"The Peace Prize?" Perry repeated, stunned by the enormity of the announcement. Clark had earned this award--he deserved it--but in some way, the editor had helped him gain this recognition. And maybe that, along with everything else that had happened, was enough to prove that Perry White wasn't as much of a laughingstock as he had seemed these past couple weeks. "This is huge!" he exclaimed. "And we're the only ones to know?"

"I think so. Like I said, they called you to see if you'd print it in the paper and get the word out to Superman."

"Print it? Great shades of Elvis, you can bet your bottom dollar we're going to print this!" Perry increased his speed, eager to get back to the newsroom. "This is quite a scoop--and on top of the big story about Intergang's fall we printed before the Star or the tabloids even got wind of it. Come on, Jimmy--we've got a lot of work to do."

Since they had spent most of the night before getting the morning edition ready for printing, Jimmy could have groaned at the thought of more long hours awaiting him at the office. Instead, he simply matched his pace to Perry's, his smile still present. Perry felt a thrill of pride coarse through him. He was even more certain now than ever before that Jimmy would be a great in this business one day--maybe sooner than even Perry had realized.

"So..." Perry hesitated, not used to asking too many personal questions. But then, he had taken the kid fishing before; a personal question shouldn't be too hard. "How did it feel to see your name on the front page?"

Perry would have sworn Jimmy actually bounced a good two feet in the air. "Great! Say, when are the Kerths anyway?"

A guffaw escaped the editor. "You don't lack for confidence, do you? Sounds like you've been spendin' too much time with Lois."

"Not Lois," Jimmy corrected, his entire manner changing in an instant from excitement to shyness. "But I've been watching *you*. You know," he forced a chuckle, "trying to learn from the best and all."

"Confidentially," Perry said, slinging his arm around Jimmy's shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "that would be Lois and Clark. Together, they make the finest investigative team this world has ever seen. But someday, son, you'll be in the same league as them."

"Really?"

"As sure a thing as the King. Now, come on. There's a scoop waitin' for us. Speaking of which, I think I'll send Clark to cover Superman's acceptance of the award."

"Clark?" Jimmy repeated. "Why him?"

Perry smiled. "He is one of my best reporters. And, from what I understand, he travels well."

"Okay. You riding with me?" Jimmy pulled out his keys as they reached his vehicle.

"I don't know." Perry eyed the car dubiously, not sure he should trust his life to its indestructibility a second time.

"I'll be careful," Jimmy promised with a grin. "Trust me."

"All right." The smoothness of Perry's agreement obviously caught Jimmy by surprise. "I do trust you, son. Now, do you plan on just standin' there all day?"

"No, sir." With an exuberant grin, Jimmy slid into the car.

Refusing to be frightened by the speed at which Jimmy exited the prison parking lot, Perry leaned back, his mind racing with plans and layouts and assignments. When he and Jimmy arrived at the Daily Planet and entered the newsroom, the editor walked straight from the elevator to his office without a hint of shame, his back straight, his head held high. And when he barked orders, everyone around him leapt to obey, their movements orderly even as they were chaotic, the sure sign of a successful newspaper.

"Stick with me, son," Perry told Jimmy. "Let's show 'em how a real newspaper is run."

"Sure, Chief," Jimmy replied happily.

Ah, Perry thought with an inward smile. He loved the smell of ink in the morning.

The End