Yes, yes, the plot begins with the cliche "Jason-draws-a-picture" crap, but that's just an icebreaker. IT GETS MORE ORIGINAL. I SWEAR. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Superman or anything affiliated wih it. Well, an action figure and some silly putty Kryptonite, but that aside, I own nothing.

It had been exactly a week since Superman had woken from his coma. A week since he'd stood by Jason's side in his room, reciting the legacy that he would undoubtedly hold in his small hands one day. A week that had been spent writing article after article about Superman, Lex Luthor, the quake, the aftermath, and how the public was taking it. It had been pretty busy, that was certain. But he'd been outside Jason's window every night since, watching. Hoping.

He didn't know what he was hoping for. Hoping on a smaller level that Jason would wake up and talk to him? Or hoping on a level much greater that Lois would fall in love with Clark, Richard would find someone else, Clark could have his family and everyone would live happily ever after?

He sighed. He couldn't be selfish. Richard had been there first; it was his rightful place. Lois was right. Richard was a good man. No one, especially not the man who'd taken care of Lois while Clark had been away, deserved to be pushed out of their picture perfect life.

There was just no way for everything to be perfect. Somebody, in every scenario, would be burned, no matter how the cards played out. Besides, it's not as if Clark would ever be able to be around for Lois and Jason. He was Superman.

Superman waited another few minutes, watching the small boy sleep. It was shocking, his resemblance to Lois. His keenness at such a young age, aware of so much around him. A small smile played at the corner of his lips. Did he inherit anything from his father besides the powers? It might be better for him. Clark was…well, a little klutzy.

Finally he turned around and braced himself to fly into the night.

"Superman?"

Jason sat up in bed, his eyes wide and full of wonder. Slowly he shoved off his covers and tiptoed to the window, cocking his head as if to make sure the man of steel was truly outside.

Superman couldn't help but grin at him. "Hey," he said quietly, trying not to wake up Lois and Richard.

"I thought I saw you last night, but Mommy said I was dreaming," Jason whispered, his voice hardly concealing his excitement.

Superman hesitated. "You weren't. I like to check up on…" My son, he wanted to say. "…you, because…you're a good friend," he finally decided.

Jason smiled wide, and that's when Superman could see it. That wasn't Lois' famous smirk. That was the full-blown country boy grin that solely belonged to Clark.

"Mommy talks about you a lot. Were you good friends with her before you left?" Jason asked innocently. It was apparent that Lois hadn't told him of their history, and he wasn't going to be the one to tell the kid. Not without Lois' permission.

"Yes, I was very good friends with your mom. I'm still friends with her now," Superman said. "I missed her a lot when I left."

Jason nodded in understanding, his eyes already full of wisdom that Superman himself wasn't sure he acquired until he was an adult himself. He perked up a second later. "Wait. I made you something," Jason exclaimed eagerly.

Superman put his pointer finger to his mouth, reminding him to stay quiet. Jason imitated the motion, then opened the drawer on his nightstand, retrieving a piece of lined paper. He ran back up to the window and held out the paper for the hero, waiting anxiously for a response.

It took a moment for him to see, but it was a picture of a round window. Blue specks indicated the water; it was all dark for the exception of the window, where a childish drawing of Superman's face appeared, smiling.

"It's when you saved us from the boat," Jason explained. "I forgot to say thank you. Mommy said you already knew, but I just wanted to say it anyway."

"It's incredible," Superman said sincerely, hardly able to tear his eyes away from the boy that would never truly be his son. "I'll keep it forever. It…means more to me than you'll ever know."

Jason beamed.

"And thank you," Superman said to the five-year-old, "for saving me."

Something stirred down the hall. Jason twitched, having heard the slight noise himself. He had the same knack for hearing things that Superman had honed already. Yes, there was a lot of his father in him after all.

"You'd better leave. Mommy's up. She always gets a drink at night," Jason warned, backing up from the window towards his bed.

Superman nodded. "Thanks for the picture. See you later, Jason."

"Bye, Superman," Jason whispered in the tiniest of voices, a sound that only Superman himself could have heard, as the man of steel flew away into the night. Someone out there needed him now, as they would every other night.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"You'd think they'd stuck a tracking device on that man, with all the reports coming through," one of Clark's coworkers noted while looking up at the television. "I mean, how are we supposed to write articles on a bajillion different places he's been in one night?"

Despite the complaints, though, Clark could tell that the man in the cubicle was happy nonetheless. Not only did the idea of Superman make everyone feel a little safer, it assured the journalism world that there was always some story to cover. Jimmy revealed to Clark that after the hysteria of Superman's disappearance blew over, there was virtually nothing to report on…hence, Lois' article winning a Pulitzer.

"Yeah, I know," Clark agreed amiably. "It's insane, isn't it? Which are you covering?"

"Flood in India. You?"

"Fires in California."

The man shook his head. "Long day, I guess," he whistled, getting back to work.

Clark took the free moment to peek through the walls of Lois' office. She was clearly in an interview with another woman, probably covering the unknown whereabouts of Lex Luthor again. "…leave Mommy for a sec, please? Daddy's getting coffee outside."

Clark watched the boy nod and race out energetically. "Now," Lois continued, "you said you were a relative of a woman whose will was…"

"Mr. Clark?"

The little voice came from behind him. A grin instantly spread on Clark's face, recognizing Jason immediately. "Hey, Jason. How are you?"

"Bored. Mommy's in a meeting," he informed Clark, looking over his shoulder at the computer screen. "How did the fire start?" he asked after a moment.

Clark knew by now that he shouldn't be surprised at the boy's level of understanding—most kids at his age couldn't even read the word 'fire,' let alone half of an article on it—but he found himself a little baffled nonetheless. "They don't know. The police think someone started it and it spread a lot."

"Oh," said Jason, still fixated on the screen. Then he turned back to Clark. "Hey, where's the coffee machine?" he asked, looking around the office.

"Right over there," Clark pointed, disappointed that his time with Jason was up. But Richard appeared to be sidetracked by Perry and was being pulled into the boardroom. "You want to hang with me until your parents are done?"

"Yeah," Jason said enthusiastically. "But Mommy says I have to be really quiet."

"I think I have some pens in my briefcase if you want to draw," Clark offered, remembering the boy's picture fresh in his mind. He was glad he knew at least something that the boy enjoyed. That and playing in the park. And egg rolls, of course.

"Which pocket?" Jason asked, starting to pry carefully into the briefcase, making sure its contents weren't disturbed.

"The front one," Clark replied, starting to write his article again. It was almost finished, but it was due in about fifteen minutes. Just another sentence or two to go, and—

"M-Mr. Clark?" Jason squeaked. "Where'd you get this?"

Clark looked up at the piece of paper clutched in the boy's shaking hands. "Oh, no," he muttered.

Review, review, review! Especially cuz today's my birthday :D :D. I turn fifteen. SUCKERZZZZZZZ.