Work Text:
“Astronomy Club?”
Immediately, Jon starts to regret saying anything. His dad looks way too enthusiastic about the idea. “Yeah. Mom said I needed something extracurricular, and I’m kinda banned from sports, so…” He leans forward against the kitchen island, watching Clark put the dishes away. “It was Nat’s idea.”
“That’s awesome.” Clark wipes out the inside of a mug. “And I think it’s good to try out something a little different.”
Jon shrugs. “I mean, it is kinda interesting. Especially considering…” Oh. He stops himself from forming the rest of that thought.
But when he doesn’t continue, Clark gently prompts, “Considering what?”
Jon can’t help but look around, making sure they’re alone in the kitchen. As though what he’s about to say is forbidden. It finally comes out in a hesitant tone. “Well… you’re from… somewhere out there. Which means that… I’m… also…”
It’s a realization that had lodged itself into his brain from the moment he’d first found out about Clark. Ever since Jordan had snapped at Lois about being ‘half-human, half-whatever-the-hell-he-is.’ It’s easy to consider Jordan as the alien one and Jonathan as the human one – but that’s never been true. Jonathan has as much Kryptonian blood as his brother. Only half of him is human. The other half is something he still can’t fully understand.
Clark slowly closes the silverware drawer, not quite looking at him. He definitely shouldn’t have said anything – has he just made his dad feel like an alien freak? Or is he making a big deal out of nothing? Maybe finding out that you’re only half-human should be a completely normal revelation. Maybe Astronomy Club is too much of a risk, and people will realize he’s different. Or maybe–
“I want to show you something.” Clark’s even tone pulls him from the swirl of his thoughts. “Follow me.”
His dad leads the way out the back door and towards the barn, stopping only briefly to make sure that Jon’s following. It’s a peaceful Kansan evening, with a light breeze and clear skies. Maybe that’s what had prompted Jon’s mild interest in the club – out here, far from the big cities and even the lights of Main Street, the stars are so clear. They’d never looked anything like this in Metropolis.
Inside the barn, Clark crouches down and effortlessly lifts up the storm cellar door. “Pretty sure it’s down here.”
“What is?”
“You’ll see.” Clark slips down the ladder into the darkness. Utterly lost, Jon climbs in after him. By the time he reaches the bottom, Clark has switched on the overhead light and started scanning over the dingy cellar. Jon does his best to ignore the tarp-covered lump in the corner, not particularly wanting to confront his dad’s spaceship at the moment.
“Aha!” Clark declares after a moment, moving to one of the far shelves. After moving a stack of cans aside, he pulls out a hard case, covered in dust and cobwebs.
“Is that like a camera or something?”
“Not quite.” Clark purses his lips and clears all the grime off the case in a single sharp blow. With the black plastic now looking practically new, he carries it over to the dirt-crusted table and carefully sets it down, like the contents are made of glass. Now that he can see it more clearly, Jon decides it’s definitely not the right shape to be a camera – too long and skinny. Curious, he watches as Clark pops open the clasps, lifting up the lid to reveal–
“A telescope?”
“Yeah. This was originally my grandfather’s. Hiram Kent.” He taps his finger against a pair of initials engraved into the surface – HK .
“Hiram,” Jon repeats with a bit of a smirk. “Thank you for not naming me that.”
That makes Clark chuckle. “He gave it to my dad. And when I turned ten, my dad gave it to me. I used to spend hours just looking up at the sky. It fascinated me. And… scared me a little, too.”
Jon blinks. “Scared you?”
Clark nods. “I was six when my parents told me about how they’d found me. I’d figured out that I was different long before that, but I’d never suspected that I might not even be human. There is… absolutely nothing that can prepare you to hear that.” He casts Jon a sympathetic glance. “And I know how badly that can mess with your sense of self.”
“Dad…” Jon starts, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest. What right does he have to struggle with any of this? At least he knows what he is. His dad hadn’t even had that.
But Clark continues. “I always wondered which of those stars I’d come from. If any of them had someone like me. Eventually, I decided that it didn’t really matter. That’s what I told myself, anyway.”
“I’m not wondering, though,” Jon points out. “I know you’re from Krypton. Grandma even gave me the crash course at the Fortress.”
“I know,” Clark agrees. “But… you’re right. Your heritage is greater than just this planet. It only makes sense to want to learn more. Maybe it won’t have any answers for you, but… then again, maybe it will. You’ll just have to find out.”
Sheepishly, Jon tucks his hands into his pockets. “...yeah. Okay.”
“Besides…” Clark adds, with a mischievous sort of twinkle in his eye, “if it turns out you hate it, there’s always the school paper.”
“Absolutely not.”
Clark laughs. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
He turns to go, leaving the case on the table. Jon’s gaze lingers on it, and he can’t help but reach out to touch the cool metal. Picturing his dad’s hands resting in the same spot, gazing up at the stars, feeling that same confusion that already aches in Jon’s chest now…
“Dad?”
Clark stops to look back at him. “Yeah?”
Jon hesitates. “Could I… borrow this?”
Clark’s expression breaks into a slow smile. “Keep it.”
“Really?”
“Definitely. We can set it up tomorrow, if you want.”
“Sure. Yeah, whatever.” Jon keeps his tone casual, like he’s completely unbothered, but he suspects Clark sees right through it.
“Okay. Just close that up for now, then. It’s a bit delicate.”
As Clark starts to climb the ladder back out, Jon carefully lowers the telescope case’s lid and snaps the clasps into place.