The smell of evergreen was thick in the air, and the light wind had an icy chill to it. The perfect December afternoon.

Martha had double checked before leaving the house that both of her sons had their scarves, thick sweaters, and extra-thick hats before they headed out—especially Lex, since Clark seemed to be invulnerable to cold, along with everything else—but the boys didn't seem to mind the cold at all. If anything, it had given them new energy. As soon as they'd arrived, Clark had suggested hide and seek, and they'd both run off.

The tree lot wasn't busy. It helped that they'd opted to go right after breakfast on a weekday; most people would be at work, but Jonathan and the boys had gotten up extra early to get chores done, freeing up a few hours to come here.

Martha snuggled up a little closer to Jonathan, her eyes scanning the lot. She didn't have to worry about the boys getting lost, but she did sometimes worry about Clark remembering to be careful with his powers. It was difficult to push aside the recurring nightmares of Clark in a lab, but she knew he was as careful as she would want him to be. The more likely accident would be Clark throwing a snowball too hard and Lex ending up with a bloody nose. She knew that wouldn't be the end of the world, that Lex would forgive and forget in less time than it took for the bleeding to stop, but it would still be a sour end to a nice morning.

"Hey," Jonathan said softly, coming up beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You're worrying again."

"They're so happy," she said. "I don't want anything to ruin that."

He kissed the top of her head and guided her to a clearing between two trees, so the boys were in easy view. "Look at them."

Lex tossed a snowball at Clark, and it erupted into a shower of ice crystals on Clark's sweater. He shrieked with laughter. Clark tossed one back at Lex, but he did it so lightly, the snowball didn't even make it all the way to Lex before falling to the ground. Lex laughed and ran after Clark with another snowball while Clark cried out in exaggerated fear and ran away. Clark ran just slow enough that Lex could catch up; Lex ran slow enough that it took awhile.

"Perfectly fine," Jonathan said. His eyes betrayed some small measure of concern as well, but Martha knew it wasn't worth worrying today. Even if they couldn't help worrying, they could shield their boys from the fear. Let them live normal, happy lives.

Martha linked her arm in Jonathan's, and the two of them strolled down the rows of trees, grateful for the time they had with each other to simply relax and think about something besides work. It didn't last long, though. Within a few minutes, Clark came running up to him, his cheeks pink from the cold, and said, "So when are we picking a tree?"

"You boys find one you like?"

"Umm . . . Let me ask Lex!" He bolted away.

Martha laughed a little and nuzzled closer to Jonathan.

A few seconds later, Clark came jogging back. "Nope, we haven't been looking yet! Just playing."

This time, both Martha and Jonathan laughed. "Well, take a look around," Jonathan said.

"Okay!" Clark took a couple of steps away, then turned back. "What if we like all of them?"

"We're just looking for one to take home."

"Oh. Okay!" Clark ran away again. After a moment, Martha could hear Clark explaining to Lex what they were doing. Lex didn't snap that he already knew; he just replied with agreement and enthusiasm, and their chatter continued, though now it seemed to have much more to do with the trees.

"That should keep them busy for a minute," Jonathan said, and he turned to kiss Martha on the lips.

Not even a full minute later, the boys were back to chasing each other and laughing.

Martha pulled back, chuckling a little herself, and she took a few steps in the direction of the laughter. Lex looked up when he saw her and stopped running. "Sorry, Martha. Running helps warm you up, you know? It's too damn cold."

"Lex!" Jonathan chided.

"Oh! Sorry!" He looked genuinely surprised, though he cringed away from them a little. "My dad used to say that, I forgot—"

"It's okay, sweetie," Martha said, giving Jonathan a look to make sure he didn't press further.

"I won't do it again," he said, and he shivered. "It's really cold."

Martha looked back at Jonathan and smiled, then she turned back to Lex and said, "I know just the thing."

Martha and Jonathan walked hand in hand back to the main entrance, where a stand sold hot chocolate. She paid for four paper cups, took two herself and let Jonathan carry two, and went back to find her boys.

Clark found her first and came running toward her. "Mom? Is that hot chocolate? Is that for us?"

"Go find Lex."

Clark grinned and sped off, almost a little too fast for a six-year-old this time, and within the minute, both of her boys were back. She handed them each a paper cup, took one herself from Jonathan, and breathed a sigh of relief when both of her kids stayed close this time. It was hard to run with a full cup in hand, and the rich dark cocoa was hot enough that Lex, at least, would have a difficult time drinking it quickly.

"Thank you," Lex said softly.

"Thanks!" Clark chimed in.

Martha reached down to ruffle Clark's hair and leaned over to kiss Lex on the side of the head. "Love you boys," she said.

Lex's cheeks turned a bit pinker. "Love you too . . ."

The four of them walked slower this time, admiring each tree they passed. Clark had no reservations about shouting out his opinions in a loud voice. Lex, though, had gone much more quiet.

Martha had to wonder if there had been more to the running than met the eye. Maybe he'd been trying to distract himself from something that was making him emotional, and now there was nothing to distract him.

Lex was sensitive in a way he didn't always show; she couldn't always predict what would cause him to experience extreme emotions of one type or another. There had been an incident at Halloween, too. Apparently he'd never been allowed to celebrate it, and not for religious reasons or anything: Lionel merely saw trick or treating as a form of begging, so he didn't allow it. Before she knew about that, Martha had casually remarked that Lex was probably too old for trick or treating—she didn't say it, but part of her reasoning was that the baldness made him look older than he was—and he'd almost cried, realizing that he had completely missed out on that stage of life. She'd seen him on the verge of tears, but it was nearly an hour after she'd made the comment, so she didn't catch the connection right away. She ended up spending a solid half an hour sitting with him and trying to comfort him without knowing what was hurting him, and when he finally told her, she made him a costume based on one of the characters from the Warrior Angel comic books he liked so much. Grinning ear to ear in a homemade costume, he'd looked young enough to be out trick or treating with Clark.

Martha hoped he had learned from the incident that he could always be open with her, and she could help him, but considering he was sniffling and trying to hide his face, she figured that whatever it was, he was too embarrassed to come clean with in front of the whole family.

Maybe she could distract him instead, for the time being, so he could still enjoy himself for now and could talk with her about whatever was bothering him later on. And she had the perfect distraction, because just then, she found the perfect tree.

It was a deep green, and its evergreen scent was almost sweet. It wasn't too tall for their living room, but the star would probably bring it just to the ceiling. It wasn't too thick to carry or too thin for the leaves to cover its branches. Many of the branches were even curved in just such a way that they would accept the lights and ornaments perfectly.

Clark pointed it out before she did. "That one!"

Jonathan smiled down at Clark, then over at Martha. "That one looks great. What do you think, Lex?"

Lex didn't say anything. He just stared at it.

"Lex?" Martha asked.

His eyes glossed over, and he shrugged.

"Dad, do you have the axe?" Clark piped up.

"Ah, no, son, I left it in the truck," Jonathan said with a frown. "Martha, maybe you and Lex can go pick it up?"

"Yeah. Up for a walk, sweetie?" She took Lex's hand.

He didn't say anything, but he didn't pull his hand away either, and he walked with her back toward the parking lot. She took his empty hot chocolate cup from him and tossed his and hers into the trash on their way.

The tears had started to fall before they reached the truck. She squeezed his hand tighter until they reached it, then she wrapped both arms around him and squeezed tightly. Shaking, he buried his face in her knit sweater, and within moments, she could feel his tears soaking through.

She stroked the back of his head—or, in this case, his hat. She wanted to beg him to talk to her, but she knew her son. It would only be counterproductive. She just needed to give him time and comfort. If he wanted to talk, he would; if he didn't, she might never know what was bothering him, but at least he would feel safe. And that was the only thing that mattered.

But she couldn't resist asking, "Something about that tree?"

To her surprise, he softly said, "Yeah."

She blinked a couple of times, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

"It's perfect."

Martha wiped away the tears on one side of his face, then the other, shaking her head. "I . . . I don't . . ."

"My dad said . . . last year . . . I didn't deserve to have a Christmas. Because of . . . Julian . . ." New tears streaked down his cheeks. "I don't even know if he bought a tree or not, I stayed in my room for the whole winter break."

"Oh, sweetheart."

"I still don't deserve it, Martha."

"Lex—"

"Julian never even had a Christmas. I was gonna . . . I was saving up my allowance . . . he really liked to be rocked, I was going to buy him one of those indoor swings, Mom said she'd take me to buy it . . ."

She pulled her precious son into her arms even tighter as he shook with sobs. "You're such a good brother."

She rubbed his back, tears stinging her own eyes. This was going to be a rough holiday season. If he was this emotional about something as simple as cutting a Christmas tree, how would he feel when they started decorating it? When they made cookies and cakes? During the big Christmas Eve dinner? When they exchanged presents? They'd gotten a little financial assistance in the wake of the adoption—they still hadn't been able to afford much, but they'd bought him some of his favorite treats, a few comic books, and a strategy board game he'd wanted. She was sure most kids would be more excited over the candy in their stocking and a pile of brightly wrapped gifts than over a tree.

"I don't deserve . . . Christmas . . . I wasn't a good big brother . . ."

"Sh, shh." Her hand moved up to cradle his head.

"It's so beautiful, and you guys are so nice to me . . ."

" . . . Lex?"

Martha let go and looked over to see Clark, staring up at Lex. Lex sniffled and straightened up.

"Why do you think that you—that you're a bad big brother?"

"Uh." Lex wiped his eyes.

Clark crossed his arms. "Y-you're the bestest big brother!"

"I—I just—"

"I thought I already told you that! Did I say it not enough times?"

"You did—"

"I can say it more times! You're the bestest big brother, you're the bestest big brother, you're the bestest . . ." He kept repeating himself.

Lex looked up at Martha, eyes pleading.

She nodded gently. They'd never really told Clark about Julian; she doubted Lex would say much, but she wanted him to know he had her permission to say what he needed to.

Lex knelt down in front of Clark. "I had a little brother at my old house. Julian."

Clark's face fell. "You want him instead?"

"No, no, I . . . I wish I could have both of you."

"Can I meet him?"

"No. He died."

Clark's jaw dropped. "But—but how did he die?"

"I . . ." Lex swallowed hard. "I didn't take good enough care of him."

Clark's breath caught, indignation twisting his face into a pout. "You're lying."

"I'm not—"

"Mommy, he's lying." Clark's eyes filled with tears as his voice rose steadily. "You have to punish him, for lying!"

Martha took a step closer. "Now, Clark—"

"But he is lying! He always lets me go first at checkers and gives me the big half of the cookie and plays snowball fights with me and hugs me when I'm sad."

Lex said, "Okay, but—"

Clark turned back to Lex. "If Julian never told you you were the best big brother, he was stupid."

Lex's eyes filled with anger. "He was a baby, Clark!"

Clark's jaw dropped, and he was silent for a moment. "Julian . . . died when he was a baby?"

"Yeah."

It was quiet for a long while as Clark's lower lip trembled. Martha almost said something, but Clark piped up, "He was your baby brother and he died?"

"Yeah." Lex sniffed.

"That's so sad."

Lex wiped his eyes.

Clark fidgeted a little, the toe of his boot tracing little lines in the snow. "I know you wanted to have Christmas with Julian, but . . . he died, so . . . is it okay if you have Christmas with me?"

Lex swallowed and barely whispered, "Okay."

Slowly, Clark stepped into Lex's arms and wrapped his arms tightly around him. Lex hugged back, shaking in Clark's arms.

"Do you like the tree we picked?" Clark asked.

"Yeah, I do."

Martha reached into the back of the truck for the axe. Her boys needed some space.

She walked slowly back to where Jonathan was waiting for her.

His eyebrows raised when he saw her walking alone. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. Lex's father didn't let him have a Christmas tree after Julian died. I think all of this is getting to him."

"He's sad?"

"Honestly? I think he might be happy."

Jonathan smiled.

They made quick work of the tree, and the two of them were able to get it back to the truck. It would have been a lot easier with Clark's help, but she was always a little nervous about letting him help, anyway. By the time they reached the truck, the boys were back to chasing each other and throwing snowballs.

"Oh! Oh!" Clark came running back to them. "Can we look in the gift shop?"

Martha and Jonathan exchanged a glance. They both knew what Clark was really asking: he wanted to buy some new ornaments.

Martha was breathing in to tell him no, but to her surprise, Jonathan said, "You boys can pick one ornament each. You hear me? One."

Clark whooped and grabbed Lex's hand, all but dragging him toward the little shop.

Martha raised her eyebrows at Jonathan, and he shrugged. "It's like you said. They're happy. Why not make them a little happier?"

She took his hand, and they followed their boys through the door.

"It's not very Christmassy, Clark," they heard Lex saying.

"Is so! It has red and green!" Clark held up a little plastic spaceship ornament.

"Okay, whatever."

"Which one are you getting?"

"Umm . . ." Lex took a couple of steps, then he smiled and picked a leafless tree ornament from the top row. "This one."

"A twig?"

"No, it's a tree. It's the one from Charlie Brown."

"The tree no one liked?"

Lex shrugged. "I like it," he said softly.

"Yours is even weirder than mine," Clark said, going over to hand his to Jonathan. Lex did the same.

Clark walked with Jonathan as he went to to register. Lex hung back with Martha.

"I know why you like it," she said to him.

His eyebrows knitted. "No, you don't."

"It's bald."

He lowered his head, his cheeks turning pink, but Martha could tell he was fighting a smile.

"I like it, too," she said.

Lex lost the fight, and he grinned widely.

Clark came running back to them, and Jonathan carried the little bag with the ornaments. "Ready to go?" Jonathan asked.

"Ready," the boys chorused.

They all went back to the truck together. Jonathan turned on the heater, and a soft piano version of "O Christmas Tree" played over the radio, and the boys fell asleep in the back seat, Clark sitting in the middle seat and leaning on Lex's shoulder.

Martha's throat choked up. "Merry Christmas," she whispered, placing her hand in Jonathan's.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered back, and he kissed the back of her fingers.