Work Text:
His secret was a terrible one, the guilt overwhelming, the pain dull and aching.
He knows the Council won't act upon his advice. 'We'll take your words into consideration,' was as telling as if they had dismissed him bluntly out of hand right there and then. Their decision was made, extracting from Krypton's own reserves would continue regardless of what he had to say about it. His protestations were falling deaf ears.
Deaf and arrogant ears.
He shifts onto his side, watching Zod's sleeping form twitching in the shadow.
How could he tell him? How could he tell of Krypton's impending demise to the one man who is sworn above all others to protect and ensure its survival? How could he tell him it's all for nothing? That the planet he loves will be reduced to dust.
It was difficult enough for him to carry the burden of this knowledge without passing it onto to another, especially one as reactive as Zod.
For the last four nights, his own sleep had been fitful. His mind haunted by nightmarish visions and cacophonous noise, the grim howls of a collapsing planet, the sonic boom of exploding stars.
He knows Zod has noticed the little things, the dullness in his eyes and the tired frown lines that were beginning to form, but had yet to bring it up. Jor wasn't an idiot, nor a terribly good liar, and he knew eventually Zod would ask what was wrong, and judging by the subtle glances of concern, it would be some time soon.
It was just a case of if Zod would ask the question before he would admit the answer.
He places a gentle hand on the small of Zod's back and closes his eyes. A wash of noise and light flit through his mind; Krypton's destruction, its people's devastation.
He needs to tell him. He should tell him.
He will tell him.
Just not tonight.