The Memoirs

Gabe Sullivan had tried to be a good father. He'd tried to raise Chloe the best he could, had tried to make sure that she never wanted for love in his household, that she had everything she needed, and most of what she wanted.

That's why it was beyond him why she had done what she had done. Beyond his understanding why she'd chosen to... Gabe couldn't even finish the thought. He was just... so disappointed in his baby girl. He had tried to raise her so that she didn't turn out like her mother had, but it seemed like he was making the mistakes and she was turning into her mother.

Right now, she was upstairs, sent to her room, and he was trying to make dinner. He just didn't think he was ready to face her yet, but he knew he had to.

"Chloe, would you please come downstairs?" He yelled it up the stairs, and then turned the water off on the egg noodles boiling on the stove.

She had cried herself to sleep.

Her dreams were twisted ugly remnants of times she barely remembered, of her lover, of her mother. But more than anything, her dad. His looking at her with such disappointment in his eyes, like he couldn't believe he'd raised such a daughter, and when he called her it startled her awake.

She sat up in the dark. Night had fallen, apparently, and she reached over, putting her little bedside lamp on as she climbed to her feet.

She had showered when she got home, and her damp hair she stuck up in a ponytail, pulling on a gray t-shirt that said "The Smallville UIL Team 2002" on it, as well as an unzipped sweater she left open. Shorts and socks and she came down the steps.

Could barely face him. Her dad, standing there at the stove, and her chin trembled as she looked away and down at the floor. "I'm here."

"Sit down," he said, nodding at the table. "Dinner's almost ready."

Her eyes flickered across his back once before she did what she was told, sliding down into her seat carefully without looking at him. "D-do you need help?"

"No, I think I have it all under control." He drained the egg noodles with quick, short movements, then dished them out onto two plates, ladling a creamy cheese sauce over them and adding a helping of pepper-basted roast beef beside it. He sat the plate on the table in front of his daughter, picked up a glass of tea, and put that in front of her as well.

She couldn't look at him, just staring down at the food she'd had a hundred times or more, and knew she couldn't force it down. Didn't dare move until he moved away, her eyes trained on the napkin before her.

The silence was deafening. It was worse than yelling or screaming, worse than anything in the world.

Gabe brought his own plate and glass to the table, and sat down in his usual chair across from her. "I'd usually ask how your day went, but I think we both know the answer to that."

Didn't dare look up. Didn't dare. Just stared at her plate as her father sat down in front of her, throat bobbing as she spoke softly. Her voice was plugged up from all the crying she'd done and gruff, but she cleared it as best as she could as she spoke. "I know."

"Is it my fault, Chloe?" He asked softly. "Is there something you needed that I didn't give you? That I didn't teach you?" He put his fork down, but didn't look at his daughter. "I don't understand why you did this; help me understand."

Her eyes flew up then, her fingers tightening around her napkin as she shook her head violently. "You did great. Its me. There was nothing you did here; its not your fault."

"Then why, Chloe? Why do this? Why... why do this there, in a place where you knew you shouldn't, with him."

"I love him." Her voice was a croak as she looked down again. "We were just having fun."

And somehow, that was just worse. Just having fun. His wife, Chloe's mother, had just been having fun with her other guys, too. "Having fun... is Whitney the only one, Chloe?"

Her father thought she was a slut.

And the worst part, was that she was. But there was no way she could tell him… about Clark. And Lex.

And Shayla.

"No, dad."

And there it was. He'd failed. Somewhere down the line, he'd screwed up raising her, and this was the result. He didn't say anything, just dropped his head into his hands, and spoke into the table. "Who else?"

Her chin trembled, hard, as she looked down at her food. She was already six feet under. She should just dig some more and be done with it. "H...her name is Shayla."

Her. "You mean Mr. Luthor's assistant's sister? The one with the pink hair?" Gabe rubbed at his eye sockets with the heels of his hands.

"We haven't... haven't had sex. Just.." Her throat choked closed and she set her napkin on the table beside her. She wasn't going to be eating for the near future. "Just kissing."

Part of him didn't believe it. "Are you just telling me that because you think it's what I want to hear, Chloe? Or is that the truth?"

Her heart screamed at the unfairness of it, because she had never lied.

Except she had. About Whitney. About Clark and Lex. About her life. "No, dad. its the truth."

"I want to believe you, Chloe."

"But you can't." She brought her arms around her waist, hugging herself tightly. "I'm sorry, Dad. So sorry." And Christ, she was. Not because she'd had sex with Whitney. But because she'd neglected to tell her father anything about her life. "I'm so sorry."

"But I can't," he agreed. "Chloe... it's like I'm living with someone I don't even know anymore. Ever since... ever since Lana died, it's like you've turned into this... pod person. I see you around here less and less, when I do see you, we don't talk, I'm working more because the Luthor's are having me consult with several of the teams about setting up for the plant opening again, and now this. Where'd my little girl go, Chloe?"

"I don't know, Dad." She whispered, and still couldn't look at him, staring down at the pattern on the plate. "She grew up. She wants to marry Whitney, and have kids and a home. She's bisexual." She looked up because God it hurt that her dad had looked at her when she told him. His eyes had all but glassed over in horror, and her fingers tightened around her waist. "I'm not a bad person."

"You're just a person I don't know anymore." Gabe pushed back from the table. "You've gone from my little girl to this... this person I don't know, and I don't know that I like the way she behaves."

"What does she behave like, dad?" She asked softly, looking up at him finally.

"Like her mother," Gabe finally admitted softly.

Her chin trembled. "Do you think I'm a slut, dad?"

He had to think about that before he answered, turning the definition over and over in his mind as he studied his daughter. He just couldn't fit her into it. "No," he said finally. "I don't think you're a slut."

That he'd had to think about it was enough, and she looked away, fighting to keep herself from crying. "May I be excused?"

"No, you may not." Gabe looked at his daughter again. "Chloe... you know that I worry about you. I'm very, very disappointed in you, but aside from that... you are still my daughter, and I love you."

"I'm not going to dump him, Dad."

"I want you to stay away from him, Chloe."

She looked up, fighting back her tears as she shook her head, pushing a limp blond lock from her forehead. "No. He's the love of my life. And as much as you didn't want to know, we've been having sex for a long time now, dad. I love him as much as anyone can. I want to marry him."

"You are too young." He gripped his glass tightly. "You're too young to get married; you don't even know what you want! You said you had... done things, with Shayla, but you're talking about marrying Whitney! You don't know what you want, Chloe, and I want you to stay away from him. He's older than you, and I don't like it."

"I don't care." She rose her chin then, and had she known it, looked just like Clark in that moment. "I don't care if you don't like it. He's my best friend, he's my lover, and he's my boyfriend. I'm not going to give him up."

"I do care!" Gabe fought not to raise his voice with his stubborn child. "I am your father, Chloe, and whether or not you like that, you will respect what I tell you. You are not going to see Whitney. At least, not for a very, very long time."

Her sob was wretched because she fought violently to keep it in, pressing her fingers tightly to her belly as they clenched in fists. "You can't take him away from me. He's the only person who ever treated me like a woman, like someone who isn't a slut, like a good person. He believes in me, even when I treat him like crap. You want to know something? Having sex in that house was my idea, not his."

That only made Gabe grit his teeth harder. "Then you are definitely not going to be seeing him. When I'm not at home? You're coming to work with me, because obviously I can't trust you not to go running off to him when I leave you alone. Is that understood?"

"No." Way too big for her britches but she raised her chin again. "I'm not going to let you hurt me because I love him."

"Chloe... please. Do not make me do something the both of us are going to end up regretting," Gabe pled softly.

"What I did was wrong. I'm not going to deny that. But what he and I have is real, dad, as much as you hate it. I have sex with him all the time, and I'll have sex with him again. He's going to be the father of my children, dad. I'm not going to avoid him because you told me to."

She was going to get smacked and she knew it, but she tightened her fingers on her chair, looking at him in the eyes. "I'm not a little girl anymore, I'm not innocent anymore. Stop treating me like a stupid kid, because I'm not."

Gabe went to the phone, and picked it up, dialing a number quickly. He waited several beats until someone picked up, and he nodded. "Mr. Siegel? Yes, it's Gabe Sullivan. Would you tell Mr. Luthor that I've talked to Chloe and made my decision? Tell him I'll be glad to move to Gotham City and help with the transition there. Yes, I'm sure. Thank you." He hung up, and didn't look at his daughter. "Go to your room, Chloe."

She hadn't felt much pain in her young life, but this did it. She stared at him for a long, long moment, her eyes flickering across him in disbelief.

She climbed to her feet, grabbed the edge of the kitchen table and tipped it over violently, sending glasses and plates, silverware and food crashing everywhere, just staring at him as the crash and clutter of falling objects finally stopped.

And walked up the steps, to her bedroom.

Gabe watched his angry little girl climb the stairs, and sighed. As soon as he heard the slam of a bedroom door, he sat on the bottom step, staring without seeing at the destruction she'd just caused in the kitchen as his shoulders shook with the effort not to cry. Instead, after a moment, he pushed to his feet, and started picking up shards of porcelain and glass, tossing them into the garbage.

If he thought she was going to leave her sha'nauch, leave her lover, leave the only friends she had in this world, leave the people she loved, leave her support group, leave her best friend, leave her LIFE, he was insane. She wouldn't be eighteen for another seven months, but she'd be DAMNED if she was going to leave her friends, her family, everything she loved behind and follow him to Gotham, where she would again be an outsider, alone, unloved, have NO ONE but herself.

She'd had just herself for a long time. And she would be damned, GOD DAMNED, if she was going to go back to that dark, lonely existence.

She was sobbing before she could sit down, and sunk down instead on the other side of the bed to the floor, burying her face in her knees.

Gabe finished picking up the pieces of glass and ceramic, righted the table, and cleaned up most of the food. He'd mop the floor in a minute, but now, he just poured floor cleaner onto the smears and sticky places, letting it soak as he climbed the stairs to Chloe's bedroom. The heart-rending sobs tore at him, no matter how angry he was, and he knocked on her door.

"Leave m-me the fuck a-alone."

He didn't say anything to that, just knocked again.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" She screamed at the door, grabbing the first thing she could, a book, and hurling it at the door so it thudded against the wood.

"Chloe... I know you're angry with me right now, but I'm doing the right thing."

"No, you're NOT doing the right thing, you're not LISTENING to me!" She screamed at the door, climbing to her feet and yanking the door open to yell at him, screaming as she sobbed. "You think I'm some stupid little girl, some stupid kid, and you think you OWN me. You don't. You don't own me, no one owns me but me. You haven't been here for me, when I thought I was pregnant, when my best friend lost his baby, when my grades suffered, when I weeded through the pain of knowing, yeah, I like chicks. You weren't here for any of it and you know what? I don't hate you for it. I don't. I understand you have to work, I understand you're providing for me, and I love you for it. But if you think you're going to take me away from the people who I love, you've got something else coming. I'm not leaving, and I'm not going to dump Whitney."

Gabe filed all the accusations away, to be hurt by them later, and he reached out and hugged his little girl tightly. "I do love you, Chloe, and I'm doing the best I can for you. And this will be good for you. You'll see. You need a new place. A place where you can figure out who and what it is you want." He didn't let go. "Trust me, Chloe. I've done my best by you for seventeen years, I'm not going to stop now."

She shoved him violently off of her and turned back into the room, her fingers streaking through her blond hair, tightening on the tangled, limp, damp locks as she looked around her bedroom in disbelief. "I. Am not. Leaving him. I am not leaving my life, I am not leaving my friends who love me. I am not leaving school the last year before I graduate. I am not leaving. If you think you can force me, you've got to be crazy. I'll run away and you'll never hear from me again."

Gabe shook his head, not admitting exactly how afraid he was that she would do just that. Too much of her mother in her, and it scared him. "Chloe, be reasonable."

"You think I'm stupid. You think I'm ignorant, I don't know what I want, and you think I'm a slut." She sobbed all the harder at the last word. "Maybe I am. Maybe I am a slut, and maybe I'm ignorant, and I'm probably stupid. But I do know what I want. You taught me to find what I want. And I want Whitney. He's it, dad, he's it, and I know how disrespectful I'm being. But you don't treat me like an adult, you don't treat me like I've got a brain cell in my head. You know I'm seventeen and you stereotype me. I'm not an idiot."

"No, I don't think you're a slut. I think you're confused about what you do want." He reached out a hand to touch her arm. "I know just how smart you are, Chloe, but sometimes, just sometimes, your old dumb dad knows what he's talking about. And I know what I'm talking about when I say that you need time to figure out what you want, and make sure that nobody's pushing you into anything you do or don't want."

She didn't want to talk to him anymore. He'd made his decision without her, and what a bunch of fucking crock about this whole 'we're a team, we do things together'. Bullshit. She flinched herself away from him, turning towards her bed. "Leave. I need to sleep."

"Chloe--" Gabe sighed. "One of these days, you'll realize I'm only doing what I think is best for you."

"I think what you're doing is the best for yourself. So you don't have to deal with me, and you feel like a good parent at the end, who did the right thing." She shot back, ignoring him as she sat on the edge of her bed.

He flinched at that. "I'm sorry that's what you think of me, Chloe. I've always tried to do the best thing for you, and maybe I've spoiled you by giving you everything you wanted whenever I could. Maybe I've spoiled you by giving in to you when I shouldn't have, because I don't like to see you cry. But I can't give in on this one, because I wouldn't be your father if I did. I don't... I won't ask you to understand it, or even like it. Just abide by it."

She didn't even look at him. "Thank you. For making me feel not only like a slut, a disgusting slut for kissing a girl, but also, a spoiled brat who uses tears like a strategy to get what she wanted." She looked up, now. "I'm sorry you're ashamed of me. Ashamed of who I am, and what I do. I'm sorry you're so ashamed you're going to move us across the country. I'm sorry you think I'll go with you. I'm sorry I couldn't be the daughter you should have had, but you got me. And its not enough. I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

Gabe's heart just ached. "Chloe, I don't think you're a slut. And I'm not ashamed of you. I'm just worried about you. I find out that you've been sleeping with that boy, doing God only knows what in public places for how long, one of your friends has lost a baby, you said, and Christ, do you want me to just sit to the side while all of these things happen to my baby girl and not do anything about it?" He walked into her room, and sat down on the bed beside her. "You are perfect, Chloe. You're my daughter, and I love you so much, it breaks my heart to do this and see you this way."

"I've been sleeping with him for a long time." She said dully, looking at the floor in front of her socked feet. "I've been dating him for a long time. I liked him when Lana dated him. Lana was my first kiss." She didn't even bothering looking up. "I'm a grown up, now. I have been for a long time. Things happen. I sleep with him because it makes me happy. I sleep with him because there will never be another man I sleep with. He's it. Why do you keep talking to me like I'm confused? I'm bisexual. I'm not confused."

Sexually active was one thing, and he'd been preparing himself to accept it since she was fifteen. This was different, but he was a flexible man and he could deal with it. "You... Chloe, I don't claim to know everything about being bisexual. I don't. I just... accept that you say you are. I just don't like the idea of you getting into something so serious so soon. He got you kicked out of school, baby. I don't care how grown up you say you are, that was a stupid thing to do, and you should have known better. But you didn't, and that means you're not as grown up as you think." He looked down and picked up her hand in his. "Chloe... what do you want out of me, in reaction to this? Me saying it's okay? It's not. Not by a long shot. It's like... you're expecting me to give you permission and I can't."

She didn't do anything but stare at the floor. "I lost everything I love today."

Gabe put his arm around her waist, and then kissed her forehead. "No, you didn't. You've got me, you've got the rest of your friends."

"I lost Whitney. I lost the Torch. I lost your respect. I lost my friends. I lost this place, that I love so much. I lost my faith." She flinched away from him, from his hold on her, as her eyes filled. "I'm not asking for your permission. I'm not asking anything from you but for you to understand."

Gabe let her go as she flinched away, and it hurt him more than he could say. "Chloe, if we stay here, then you have to promise me you're going to stay away from Whitney. For a while, at least."

"He's never going to see me again, dad."

"If he loves you, Chloe, like you say you love him? Then he'll understand. He'll wait for you."

No, he wouldn't. Because she'd fuck up again and the distance would finally give him an out. She knew it, just like she knew herself, and she just shook her head softly. "I need to go to sleep."

"I'll talk to the principal in the morning about the Torch for you," he offered quietly.

"No." And it was all she said, as she pulled her blankets back. "I'll earn it back. I need to go to sleep."

"Okay." He got up off the bed so she could finish pulling the covers back, and he paused in the doorway. "What... do you want for breakfast in the morning, Chloe?"

"Don't worry about it." Was all she said, as she slid under the covers and reached out to take the light off, so she wouldn't have to see his disappointment, his sadness, anymore. Knowing she was the cause of more grief hurt her so much, and she rolled over onto her side, pulling the blankets up around herself.

Gabe walked back into her bedroom, pulled the blankets back, and got into bed beside her. He put his arms around her waist, picked up the ratty little pig doll from the foot of the bed, and tucked it in the crook of her arm. He kissed her cheek, and laid his head on the pillow beside her. "Goodnight, sweetie," he said, as softly as he could.

She burst into tears all over again, hard, pressing the pig into her chest before she turned around, and wrapped her arms tightly around him. Around his chest and waist, hugging him tightly with the piggy between them, and she wept into his shoulder like she had when she was a little girl.

"It's going to be okay, baby," Gabe said, holding her tightly and kissing her hair. "I promise. It's going to be okay." He rocked her in his arms, kissing her cheek and stroking her hair and her back soothingly. "It's going to be okay."

- = - = -

Had he known it, Gabe wasn't much better off than her. Lorraine had arrived home with her son fifteen minutes ago, from the grocery store. No food in the house, and rather than make two trips, she'd made him come with her. No words spoken between them the whole time, her son trailing after her quietly, and it had given her time to get her temper and anger under control. Her son... was as stubborn as they came, stubborn as her husband had been.

Her husband. He would have known what to do with her son, who she hadn't even known was sexually active, doing those types of things with Chloe Sullivan.

She'd known they were dating, but she just didn't realize it was as serious as her son had told her it was. Her baby was a Fordman, through and through. He loved once, he loved hard, and he loved deeply. And her baby loved this Chloe. She knew it, she believed it.

But him... having sex. With her. Was not at all acceptable. In any way, shape, or form. Sometimes her son didn't think with all the brain cells the dear Lord had given him, and she sighed softly as they finished packing the canned foods and boxes of cereal he breezed through like they were made of air into the pantry. "That'll do, John. Why don't you go sit in your room? I'll be up in a moment."

"Yes, ma'am." Whitney just sighed as he headed up to his bedroom.

His mother didn't need this. Not on top of everything else she was having to deal with. Her husband had died not long ago, she was having more responsibility piled on her with the store, because even with his uncle here, it was taking up more of her time, and he was giving it less and less of his. They weren't exactly hurting for money, but he hadn't been trying to help there, either.

He climbed the stairs, feeling guilty not for what he'd done but for giving his mother more to worry about.

As soon as she heard the footsteps overhead she let herself brace against the counter, bringing a palm up to press against her forehead. A few months from graduation and now he might not even... dearest God. She pressed the back of her fingers to her lips until her heart rate was once again normal, carefully inhaling as she began making a cup of tea.

And lifted the receiver, phoning Gabe Sullivan. Her best friend, in all of the world.

Gabe was still holding Chloe, soothing and stroking her hair as she fell asleep. The phone ringing was a harsh jangle in the quiet bedroom, and he picked it up as quietly as he could. "Hello?"

"Hi, Gabe, its me."

"Lorry. Dear God, what a mess we've got."

"And why don't I like the sound of that?" Her tea, chamomile, was stirred gently in a soft pink mug, and she added sugar and milk before she sat down at the kitchen table. "I just got home with him. I was too tired to bring him back and go out to the store again. ...How's Chloe?"

"She's a mess," Gabe said quietly, rubbing his daughter's shoulder. "A huge, huge, mess."

"John hasn't said a word to me since we left the construction sight." A soft sigh, shaking her head and rubbing a slender hand over her face. "I'm terrified to talk to him, Gabe."

"Chloe's said a lot of words to me--yelled 'em, actually." He kissed her forehead gently as he rolled out of the bed, and tucked the cordless headset against his shoulder. "None of them good."

"Was she angry?" Lorraine asked it softly, as her fingers clasped the mug and brought it again to her lips.

Paused. Rose, got a bottle from the cupboard, and made her tea Irish style.

"Furious," Gabe replied as he closed the door, and then headed towards his bedroom. "Absolutely furious."

"What did she tell you?" She asked softly, as she settled again at the kitchen table, sipping her now stinging, but soothing, tea.

"Where do you want to start?" He dropped onto the chair across from his bed with an exhausted sigh. "Basically, that I am a bad parent because I called Mr. Luthor and told him I'd be open to the Gotham transfer." He sighed again. "I don't dislike Whitney, Lorry. You know that. I just... they're both so damned young."

"Too young to be thinking about marriage and babies, anyway." She agreed. Her son was still a baby in her eyes, no matter what he said or told her. "You're not a bad parent, you know that." But she paused when he mentioned Mr. Luthor. The thought of him leaving her alone in Smallville had her heart catching. The man... there was no romantic love between them. She was still grieving the loss of her husband, he too engrossed in his work. But they were friends. The best of friends. "You have to do what's right for your family, Gabe. Chloe is your family, and she just has to understand that."

"She threatened to run away, Lorry. If I went through with the move. She said she'd run away and I'd never see her again. I can't risk that, any more than you'd risk Whitney running away."

"She wouldn't run away, Gabe." Lorry simply shook her head, and wished she were there to hug him. "She loves you. If she ever did, it would be with my idiot son to get married."

Gabe kicked off his shoes. "Don't you dare give 'em any ideas." He slouched in his chair, and sighed. "She blames me, I think, for not being here when she needed me. She mentioned a whole buncha things I didn't know anything about because I've been working. Maybe too hard, but... I just wanted to give her a good life." He shrugged. "Don't know but I didn't make a mistake working so hard. Maybe I should have been around more; maybe I'd been able to nip this thing."

"Its nothing to nip, Gabe. I think, in fact, that we are very, very lucky parents. They aren't drug addicts, they don't drink or smoke, she isn't pregnant, they don't have any diseases. Very lucky parents. I'll just have to castrate my son, and that will be the end of that." She tried for the small joke to make him at least smile. Hated seeing him sad, and she shifted her weight to her other elbow. "I think I've got enough nerve to talk to him. Wish me luck."

He tried to snicker, but couldn't quite. "Yeah, we are lucky. We're lucky we taught them right. I think we're damned lucky that they had smart parents who taught 'em to respect themselves and each other." A soft chuckle. "Good luck, Lorry."

"You think taking the bottle of gin up with me will be a bad influence?" But she smiled softly, to hear him chuckle, and sighed as she rose to her feet. "I love you, sweetheart. Get some rest. I'll call you in the morning."

Gabe gave a little chuckle again. "Yeah, I think it'd be a bad influence. Have yourself a belt before you go upstairs. Be careful, and if you need to talk after you've had it out with him, give me a ring. Not like I'll be sleeping much tonight."

"Thanks, Gabe." And with that she hung up quietly, taking another sip of her tea.

And on whim, she made her son one, too.

Ten minutes after hanging up with her dear friend, Lorry Fordman was walking up the steps, a steaming cup of tea in her hand for her son. Their house was quiet...it had been more than quiet the last few months, but she noticed it even more as she came up the long flight of steps. When her boy went to college she was going to sell the old monster, and get a nice condo on the newer side of town. But right now wasn't for musing about her house, it was for her little boy.

She came down the hall, the laundry basket sitting outside of the door still, an d sighed softly at it as she gazed down the hall. The bathroom door, one of the two that led into his bathroom, had the light on, his rubber ducks set up in their rows. A habit she'd never cared to break him from, indeed.

She gently knocked on his bedroom door, gazing down at the tea. "John, its me. I'm coming in, dear."

"Come on in, Mom." Whitney was laying on his bed, staring at his ceiling, hands laced behind his head and his feet almost hanging off the foot of the bed.

She stepped in quietly. His room, for once, didn't look like it had blown up, and she appreciated his habit to clean up before she came up to his room. She offered the cup softly, as she sat beside him on the bed. "I brought you some tea, sweetie."

He sat up at that. "Thanks." He'd never been wild about it, but his mom knew how to make it so that it didn't taste like the watered-down crap Lana had tried to force-feed him. "It's good." He took a sip of the sweetened drink, then sat it on the little dresser beside his bed.

"We need to talk, sweetie."

"Yeah, Mom, I know. I'm sorry. You don't need all this crap. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to involve you." He swung his feet to the floor and looked up at her. "I'm sorry."

"I'm your mother, John." She gently pet his leg as she all but saw the pulse in his throat jump. "I've had a chance to calm down. You can tell me anything… you know that, right?

"I know, Mom. I just... this is crap you shouldn't have to deal with. I should have known better and Chloe should have let me take the rap for it. And Reynolds shouldn't have taken the newspaper away from her."

"But I'm your mother, John." She said it softly, as she touched his face tenderly. "You're my crap to deal with." But she said it with a small smile, as she folded her hands gently, sky dark. "Can you tell me why you both had sex at school, John?"

He shrugged. "I really don't know. We just... needed each other. It's weird, Mom. But Chloe's... she's just... so wonderful." Whitney leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he held his hands out, as though trying to hold into the idea he was trying to express. "She loves me. She helps me in school, she's the reasons my grades have gone up so much, because she's so smart and she helps me be smart. And she loves me. She doesn't care that I can be an idiot sometimes, she doesn't care that I stick my feet in my mouth, she just... she loves me. I want to be with her all the time, whenever I can be, because I can be with her. You know?"

Careful, Lorry. "Yes, I do know. Your father and I were very much like that." A soft smile. "A lot of what is in Chloe is in me. But John... you don't want to make the same mistakes I made. I got married too young, had you too young, though you were the love of my life. You and Chloe... are very passionate, loving kids." She gently took his hand. "But you're kids. Can you understand, John?"

"Mom, we're not kids! She's not and I'm not. I mean, yeah. We're young. But who's not? You and Dad didn't do too bad for yourselves, and neither will me and Chloe. I'll be nineteen by the end of the year, she'll be eighteen by then, and we won't be kinds any more."

"John, you made a serious mistake today." Switch gears. Keep her temper. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know. I know we did. That's why it was my fault. I should have known better."

"Yes, you should have known better. But she should have too, John. Don't try and take the blame for yourself; both were at fault." Gentle, but firm, as she spoke. "I don't want you having sex with her anymore. Not until you have a ring on her finger." Her eyebrows came together at the center. "For my peace of mind, John."

"I've tried, Mom." Whitney got up and went to his large dresser, in the corner, and opened his underwear drawer. The box he pulled out had the Fordman's logo on it, and he handed it to her. "She said no, because she wasn't ready yet."

She had it in her hand before she knew what it was. And when she knew what it was, she wished she didn't have it. "John." She breathed softly, quietly, setting the box to the side and closing her eyes. Her baby was growing up too fast, too fast, and she looked up at him. "Sit down. I have a few questions to ask you, first."

"Okay." Whitney sat back down on the edge of the bed, and picked up the fragile teacup. It was little in his huge hands, and he held it carefully as he drank from it, concentrating on not breaking it instead of on his mother.

"How many girls have you had sex with, son?"

"One. Chloe."

"How...how long?" It was choking her have to ask these questions because her baby was NOT having sex. But he was and oh, dear Lord above.

"Since... about October. We went out, she helped me study, we had little things like that, but then... it was like, October when we started sleeping together."

She was going to have a heart attack before the night was over. "October." She hadn't known her son was having sex since October, and she couldn't help it, she turned and pressed a hand to her mouth to calm herself. "Why... why didn't you tell me?"

"Because of this!" He shoved back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling again. "First Dad... then Lana... then the store, and Uncle Morty coming down and having to get him trained, and it was just... too much. I didn't want you to have to deal with this too."

"I'm never… too busy for my son." Lorry said softly, looking back down again at him with her disappointment obvious in her eyes. "John, you're your own man now. You're capable, and you're strong, and as much as you don't think, you're an intelligent young man. Maybe not always in academics, but you have wisdom, wisdom based in reality, that not many people do. And as much as you think, your mama isn't as clueless as you think. I know what goes on in a young mans life, and I know the urges they want to fulfill. I can't say I don't mind your being sexual active. I do mind, quite a bit. But I thought I would have raised you better than to have sex at school. Regardless of who initiated it, or not."

"Mom, I know. You weren't too busy. I just... didn't want to add more onto you. I know... I haven't been working at the store like I should be and that just makes it worse." He sighed, and raked his fingers through his hair. "She makes me crazy, Mom. When I'm around her, I don't think. I just... do. She makes me so crazy, and I want to give her anything she wants."

Her husband had told her the very same thing, almost twenty years ago. "I understand, John." Gently, as she sighed and looked down at the hand of his she'd just clasped gently. "If your father was here, he'd understand more than you know. You and he are a great deal alike, baby." She looked up at him. "And I can hear him now." She lowered his voice. "Son, you can't always think with your dick."

Whitney strangled a horrified gasp. "MOM!!!!"

Her lips spread. "What? You think your old mom isn't hip?"

"Don't ever say that again!!!" He glared at her, and then flopped back on the bed. "What the hell am I gonna do, Mom? I'm gonna go crazy if I can't see her. I know it."

"Well, John, baby, you're pretty grounded." She lay back with him, leaning on one elbow, head propped in hand. "So you aren't going to be going anywhere for the next few weeks. You won't go crazy." She gently touched his cheek. "If you're good, I might let you call her once in a while."

"I don't care about being grounded, Mom. I know that. I just... I miss her already. It's killing me because I know that Mr. Sullivan's yelling at her and she's crying and I can't hold her, and bein' helpless is just... it's driving me insane. I wanna break something."

Glare. "You had better not, young man." But then she softened, and sighed as she leaned back on her back with him, legs dangling off the bed... and blinking. "Son, why is there Catwoman on your ceiling?"

"I won't. I'll just... like, go out in the yard and pick up all those branches from the blizzard. Something." Then he blushed. "Don't ask, Mom."

"I...really won't." A moment. "I was serious, even though you were horrified, John." She turned her head to look at him. "You can't always think with your libido, angel. You love her, but you have to make sure she doesn't make stupid mistakes herself. Because as you can see, getting caught in the act isn't as fun as everyone always says it is." A pause. "I believe you're telling me the truth, baby. About loving her." She paused again, collecting her thoughts. "If you love her, you'll wait, son. Gabe is a wonderful, kind, loving man. But she's in a lot of trouble." Another pause. "So are you, while I'm at it."

"Yeah, I know. I'm supposed to take care of her and protect her. But if she won't let me... how am I supposed to do it! If she'd just... shut up, then Asskick might've bought that it was my fault, and she wouldn't be in trouble!!"

"Asskick?" Her head turned again to stare at her bed mate.

Deep blush. "That's what we call him. The kids, I mean. Principal Asskick."

A sigh, and she blew the bangs out of her eyes in the process, glossing over it. "It says a lot that she did accept the blame, son."

"Yeah, but that just means she got herself in trouble too, instead of letting me take care of it for her."

"Its called integrity, baby." She soothed gently, squeezing the hand she had in his own. "Just promise me you won't... get... physical. For a long, long time."

"I..." He sighed. "Can't lie, Mom. I honestly don't know when it'll be again."

A moment, as she turned to look at him. Something she'd just caught, and her head tipped gently as she watched his face. He had been specific. Too...specific. And she noticed these things, and saw these things.

And her son and Clark were very, very close. Almost too close.

"Who else has there been, John?"

"Sean. Kelvin, from the football team? We never... went all the way. But we touched. Learned. You know." Hot, scalding hot face to be talking to his mother about this. "Then... there's... this thing with Clark. It's not... it... before him and Lex got together." Safest lie, and he hoped to God she'd think the hesitations were due to embarrassment. "We're still close friends though."

She was going to keel over before she was 50.

"Ah." She said softly, still looking up at Catwoman. A moments thought. Her son... was... well, she'd already figured that part out. She'd figured it out some time ago, truth be told, but hadn't wanted to admit it to herself, and him, that she knew. But she was definitely a hip mom, and her thumb gently soothed her sons trembling, jerking hand. "Shh, baby. Don't flip out. I had.... always thought maybe you were. I'm not ashamed in any way, baby. I'm glad you found yourself, before you found Chloe."

Hardest. Words. Ever.

She was a Godly woman, a woman of faith and integrity. But damn she needed a drink.

"I did. Find myself, I mean. Chloe's who I want, Mom. Forever, for everything."

"I know it." She said quietly, and rolled her head to the side to smile at him a little bit. "Your father would have been proud." A moment passed, and she sat up, tugging one jeaned leg up under her and sitting before her son. "We need to talk punishment."

Whitney just sighed. "Okay. Let's talk."

"No TV. No radio. No computer." She began, looking down at him with her eyebrow up, daring him to argue. "You won't be going anywhere when I'm not home. You'll come home after school, and every day I will call you at this house at three o-five. If you don't answer, for any reason, your ass is grass. Clear?"

He winced. "Mom... Reynolds kicked me out of school."

"Oh," A sigh. "Id forgotten." She sighed, heavier still, and shifted her weight. "Than you'll be coming to the store with me every day, Whitney. You'll work the shift you'd work for school. 8 to three. How's that sound? Whatever you earn will go towards your college fund."

"That sounds great. That'll help you out too, and I can make up for not being around." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'll... I'll be around more. I promise."

A wave of her hand. "We're going to be hiring a lot of college kids for the summer. Don't worry yourself, son." A pause. "I don't want you seeing her, son. You need a cooling off period."

He shook his head. "I can't. I can't do that, Mom. I have to see her. Just to make sure she's okay."

"No." She looked at him seriously now. She meant serious business, and her eyebrows came together. "You won't, John. I don't want you seeing her, until your able to go back to school." She reached out, and turned his chin towards her. "You can call her. Once a week. But you are not permitted to see her, John."

"Mom, please." He clenched his jaw so tightly the muscle ticked.

"No." She said it softly. "Listen to your mama, baby. Just once. Don't see her until this is over, for my peace of mind. Please, son."

His jaw ticked harder, and his teeth were clenched so tightly it hurt. "Mom, I can't. I'll lose my mind."

"No, son. You won't." She looked at him, her eyes sharp. "Baby, I haven't punished you for having sex while you live under my roof, and more than likely having sex under my roof. I haven't punished for you the way I could, and should. Please. For my peace. Give me time to get used to this, to think about it."

Whitney didn't say anything, just clenched his jaw and turned his face to the wall. He wasn't about to cry in front of his mother. Not give her one more thing to worry about.

But she wouldn't be his mother if she didn't know, now would she? She reached forward and gently pulled her close into his arms, hating having to hurt him like this. It just came with being a parent she supposed, and she kissed his hair as she offered her arms to him. "Come here, baby."

Whitney rolled over, and hugged his mother tightly. Didn't say anything, because he knew if he did he'd lose the control he was hanging onto by the skin of his clenched teeth.

All she wanted to do was tell him he could see her. Just reassure him she wasn't angry, and reassure him he was still her son. She wouldn't do the first two, but she could do the last, so she gently stroked his hair softly as she kissed the top of his head, setting her cheek on the top of his head. "My son. You are my son, and I'm so proud of you. So handsome and kind, my baby. You're the love of my life, John. I love you, my angel."

"I love you, Mom," came muffled against her shoulder, and a single shudder wracked his body as he sucked it in and kept control. Marines didn't cry--only he wasn't one. But he'd gone through part of the training at least, and he sucked it in, just like he was supposed to. "I love you so much."

God, how she knew her child. "You may be a Marine, and you may be a man. But you're also a Fordman. And Fordman men have a tendency to be as masculine as they come, and as sweet hearted as anyone in the world." She said it softly, gently against his hair. "Your father was a manly man, but he had his moments." She pictured her husband, enormous, boisterous, full of energy. He was like a wall, a mountain of a man, and she chuckled softly as she held her son, the exact replica of the man she'd lost. "He'd get teary at tissue commercials, and whenever you hugged him, John, or smiled at him, he'd always come to me with those same tears in his eyes. Bawled at movies... the man couldn't see a kitten without snuffling. But he... he was the most masculine man I've ever met, in my life, and no one knew about his feelings but him and me." Her fingertips were gently stroking his soft blond hair from his temple. "He was so comfortable with his masculinity that it was okay, and he never felt shame in it." A moments chuckle. "Alright, when he cried over that horrid Annie movie on the TV, he was shamed."

A choking laugh at that. "I just don't know what I'm going to do without her, Mom. She's... she's everything to me. I miss her so much, right now, I just want to hold her and touch her and know she's okay even when I'm not, and hurts me, hurts deep down, that I can't."

"I know, baby. I feel that way, too, sometimes." Her eyebrows knitted, as she stroked his hair gently. "You'll understand one day, why I ask you to do the things I ask you to do. But for now, all I can ask is that you trust my judgment on it. One phone call a week. Its up to you when you want to make it. Okay?"

"Okay." Maybe it was weak of him, but he just couldn't fight any longer.

When the tears started coming down, and his shoulders tensed and his body quaked against hers her heart broke, and she slid down a little to gently cup him close to her. He might have towered over her by at least six inches but this was her son, and she held him close to her chest as he sobbed. Gently stroking through all that lovely blond hair, keeping him close to her, and there were tears in her own eyes as she looked past him and outside. "My son. I love you, my baby."

"I love you, Mom. But I love Chloe too. And this isn't fair." He hadn't wanted to break down but he couldn't keep it in, and he just sobbed, soft sounds but hard motions that shook his entire body. "I miss her already."

"I know its not. Life is never fair, John. Not ever." She pressed her lips to his hair, gently cradling him closer as he cried. "The time will go by fast, just you wait and see."

Whitney shook his head against her shoulder. He wanted to believe it, he did, but he knew it was a lie. He knew it wouldn't be passing by quickly at all.

"Shh. Baby, shh. Come on. Dry your tears, baby." She leaned down and pressed her lips to each cheekbone, cupping his face gently in her hands. "Come eat some ice cream for dinner and watch a movie with your old mom."

"I don't want anything to eat," he said softly, and he pushed himself up in bed. "I'll, uh, I'll be downstairs in a minute. I want to take a shower, change clothes, and I'll be down."

"I love you, John." She said quietly, and pressed her lips to his forehead as she rose herself. Climbed to her feet and carefully took his tea cup, walking to the door, and out of it softly.

"I love you, Mom." He closed the door behind her, laid out a fresh outfit, and then picked up the box with Chloe's ring it, kissing it softly before tucking it back in his dresser and hiding it safely. Once that was done, he walked into the bathroom, picked up Frankie, squeaked him once, and sat down on the floor of the bathroom, clutching the little duckie that had so amused his girlfriend as he cried.

 

-fin-

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