"I don't fight," Jason was saying. "I've always been afraid I'd hurt someone, ever since…" He had to swallow before he could continue. "Ever since I killed that guy on Luthor's yacht."
Oh God, is he always going to beat himself up over that? Lois overrode him immediately, shaking her head, "Jason, you were just a kid. The guy tried to mess with Kala and you were just trying to protect her. You didn't know that…"
But Jason pulled the same trick to take the conversation back. "I know that, Mom, but it doesn't change the fact. The thing is, the only person I ever fight with is Kala, and we don't even really fight fight, you know?"
"I know." Lois was reminded of the time a couple of years ago when Jason had annoyed his sister one too many times. He'd burst into her room, trying to startle her, and Kala had reacted so quickly she'd actually thrown him into the door. Fortunately, the door hinges had given out and Jason wasn't hurt, but that had been the definitive end to any physical squabbling between the twins. They might muss each other's hair, but neither raised a hand to the other.
"All those karate classes helped," Jason continued, his brow furrowed in thought, "but we had to quit when I was like eleven and stronger than the instructor. And now- … and now I can't even hold Giselle down and wait for the cops to get here without having to worry about killing her." Those blue eyes were full of recrimination and pain when his gaze met hers. "And the worst is that a part of me wanted to. Because I really, really wanted to just smash her, just once, but if I did that I'd probably break her neck or something. God, I really could have hurt her and I didn't care, Mom. I really didn't. She's the reason Kala's gone and all of this craziness is going on."
He looked so much like his father when a rescue went wrong, that wounded disappointment in one's self, that Lois' façade of strength slipped just a little. With a sigh, she pulled his head to her shoulder. The boy came willingly. He was so young to be having to deal with this. His father had at least been an adult when he had first really dealt with having to control himself and his impulses. "Oh, Jason," Lois murmured, ruffling his hair gently. "I think you're already pretty much doing what your father does. You didn't hurt her, you know, and you stopped her from hurting anyone else."
"Yeah, but I was a total klutz about it," she heard him mumble against her shoulder. "I really have to get going on this stuff. Dad wouldn't have made a mistake like that."
Your dad was also over twice your age when he started doing this, Lois started to say, but had to bite her tongue. She had tried, in vain, to stop Jor-El from pressuring her kids onto the hero path, but Clark had told her numerous times that no one was pressuring Jason. He was pushing himself to that high standard, and it was all Clark and Jor-El could do to hold him back a little. And in spite of how much his legacy was on his mind, here was her sweet boy worrying that he didn't do enough. In the end, she only said, "I'm proud of you, Jason. I really don't think your dad could have done any better under the circumstances. There's plenty of time to learn, sweetheart. Stop beating yourself up."
And even though Jason stayed silent afterwards, taking the comfort she wanted so badly to give, she wondered if he would take it to heart. Or if he truly would be allowed to take his time.