Author's Note: Sorry about the long wait...I've been busy...and I haven't been in school much lately (which is really the only time I acutally sit down and write because it's my only defense against the mind numbing boredom.) So...here it is:
Martha opened the door to Clark's room cautiously as the last few months had taught her to do. It usually lessened the shock of whatever lay behind it. She peered around the door. Well, it wasn't so bad, all things considered. It seemed that in addition to being able to do everything faster, Clark was able to make them messy about a million times faster: his room was a disaster area of varying degrees. Clothes that should have been placedin the laundry were strewn all over the floor. Not that getting them to the laundry was a problem, Clark just always forgot. "I swear," Martha said to herself aloud, "I'm just going to stop gathering up his clothes. He'd probably end up going to school naked." She shoved a pile of dirty clothes into the laundry basket and then made a move towards his bed to pull off the sheets that were probably in as dire need of a good wash as the rest of his things. She yanked the comforter off the bed and it fell to the floor as she pulled off the top sheet and threw it into the basket. However, while reaching for the bottom one, a wet spot on the sheet her hand had had the misfortune of coming into contact with distracted her. "Ew," she said as she pulled her hand back. Disgusted, she wiped it on the other sheet then turned her attention back to the spot on the sheet. "What the heck is that?" she wondered for a second, then suddenly, she realized exactly what it was and pulled the bottom sheet off and threw it in the laundry basket to be washed. It clearly needed it.
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Martha glanced up from the stove as Jonathan came in from the fields at midday for lunch. She couldn't help but feel odd preparing lunch for only two when Clark was at school. The whole farm just seemed to quiet. Too relaxed. Sometimes she'd remember back to the days when Clark was afraid to go to school because she thought she and Jonathan would be gone when he got back. 'How odd,' she thought, 'that itÄs not me who is afraid that one day Clark will go off to school and never come home.' She sat the lunch down on the table and the two of them began to eat while Martha racked her brain for a way to bring up the topic most on her mind.
Jonathan, on the other hand, seemed to only have the farm on his mind. "A couple more weeks of this weather and I think we can count on a bumper wheat crop this year. That'll be a blessing after last year's crop," Jonathan made a look of disgust at that memory. "We'll have to find a new fieldhand to replace Earl. Don't ask me where we'll find one. I'll also have to see if Clark is up to helping repair the combine today. He can't do it quickly so I don't know--"
"I think you need to have a talk with Clark," Martha burst in, deciding there probably wouldn't be a better moment.
"Uh...what?" Jonathan said confused.
"I think you should talk with Clark." She put emphasis on the word 'talk'.
Jonathan stared at her, the confused look still on his face. "Martha--do you really think the time is right? I mean he's kind of young."
"Oh, trust me, it's time."
Jonathan still didn't believe her. "I mean, has he been asking you questions? He hasn't said anything to me."
"I'm not sure he knows it exactly himself. Which is why now is the perfect time to have the talk."
This was simply too much for Jonathan. "Martha, I thought we agreed not to tell him until he started asking questions himself," he said, his voice filled with irritation. "Until an our explanations are no longer good enough."
Realization dawned on Martha. "Jonathan, that's NOT the talk I'm talking about!" She started to laugh. "I don't want you to give him THAT talk. I want to to give him THE talk."
The sudden change of direction left Jonathan in the dust. "THE talk?"
"Yes. THE talk."
Jonathan got it. "Oooohh...THAT talk."
Martha was relieved. "Good, you got it. I was worried I was going to have to draw a picture."
He laughed. "Sorry, it's hard to know what you're talking about when there are two really big things Clark doesn't know about."
"Yeah, I know. I guess we ought to be happy--It means he's normal...to this extent at least."
Jonathan nodded and scooped the last bite of food into his mouth. "Yeah, it also means that Clark and I will be going on a walk today instead of repairing the combine."
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Jonathan looked up as he heard footsteps on the barn floor and saw Clark standing there awkwardly. He hand't sped in as usual and seemed ill at ease. "Mom said you wanted me?" He said.
'I think he thinks he's in trouble,' Jonathan thought, amused. "Just wait there, I'll be done in a second, son." His tone of voice made Clark's expression change from being sure he'd done something wrong to one of confusion and Jonathan was suddenly aware that he was enjoying this. It was somehow satisfying to see Clark not enitrely sure if he was in trouble or not. 'I wonder if I should pretend he is just to see if he's been up to anything he shouldn't be and hasn't thought to tell anyone.' As the last piece of equipment snapped inot place, Jonathan changed his mind and stood up to face his son. "Come on, Clark, let's go for a walk." As the exited the barn, Jonathan couldn't help but notice Clark was walking with the awkwardness of a 12 year old boy but Jonathan could only imagine how that must be compounded by the fact Clark was stronger and faster that most other ones. He wondered sudeenly if Clark's people had some sort of coming of age ceremoney and found himself picturing ritualistic tattooing, dancing around open fires and roast wild boar. He shook his head firmly to get the images out of his head.
"I'm not in trouble, am?" Clark asked finally while Jonathan was still trying to think of a good angle to approach this from,. "No, no, you're not in trouble. Unless of course you've done something recently you should be in trouble for," Jonathan threw Clark a sharp look and Clark quickly denied it. "Good, I'm glad." He pause, somehow feeling this should be easier than it was. How had his dad done it? Actually, now that Jonathan thought about it, his dad hadn't really had to explain much. Jonathan had pretty much figured it out himself, as growing up on a farm didn't exactly leave much room for ignorance on that matter. What Jonathan had received was basically a confirmation that it worked much the same way with humans, too. 'I just won't let the snag tha Clark isn't human bother me,' he decided.
"Let's see," he said outloud, "you're twelve now, aren't you?"
"Almost thirteen," Clark said helpfully.
"Yeah," Jonathan agreed. Not that it mattered, that only meant that it had been 10 years ago that he and Martha had found Clark in a field. "That means," he continued, "that one way or another, you're beginning to maure. I'm not going to pretend you're completely ignorant about this and I guess I'm just here to tell you it's normal and answer any questions you have." 'What a good feeling it is,' he realized, 'to tell your son something's normal and, for once, actually mean it.' "Like the fact that you're growing faster than you can run now," he pressed down on Clark's shoulder as though he were trying to make him smaller. "If you don't stop soon, you'll be taller than I am," he joked.
Clark laughed and for that moment the awkwardness was gone. They walked along for a bit in the aftermath of that moment then Clark said, "You mean all this about sex, don't you Dad?"
Jonathan didnÄt know if it was aw good thing or not that the topic was finally out in the open and decided it didn't matter; he's just have to go along with it. "Yes, I do. And you're just now reaching the age where, physically speaking, you'll be albe to have children of your own. Though that doesn't mean I recommend it," he added quietly.
Clark looked very taken aback. "No!" he said firmly, "I don't want kids now that's just...blech." He made an exaggerated disgusted look on his face and Jonathan laughed. "I'm glad but you'll want them eventually, trust me."
"Like you and mom wanted me," Clark said.
"Yeah, like that," Jonathan agreed.
"But you couldn't have kids of your own...?" The question was unasked but it was a question all the same and Jonathan knew he had to answer. "No, so we adopted you." Clark didn't say anything and Jonathan decided to go a bit futher. "You see, after we were married," 'That's it, combine the dieas of sex and marriage,' he told himself, "we wanted children but your mom couldn't have any and we went to the doctor and found out that her body had built up antibodies against a baby."
"Couldn't she just get that fixed?" Clark asked.
"Maybe but it would have been too...difficult." Too expensive, too time costly, too stressfull on Martha herself. They had thought about it so much and the thoughts of undergoing any of the treatments the doctors had offered had been tempting but in the end they both knew it was beyond their means. Jonathan doubted he would ever forget the pain of having to deny Martha something so simple as a child just because they couldn't afford it. "Then we got you and haven't really given it much thought." Emphasize on the work 'much'.
"Oh. but you guys could adopt again, couldn't you?"
'Does he want a younger sibling`?' Jonathan wondered. "I suppose," he answered, 'If another spaceship crashed in our backyard,' then outloud, "but the process is very strenuous and we were lucky we got you. I don't know if it would happen quite as easily a second time." He tried to keep his answers as vague as possible but Jonathan couldn't help but wonder if he were saying too much. He didn't want to openly lie to Clark. "In any case, you're just starting to go through puberty. In a while, I imagine you'll be getting to the really fun stuff, like your voice changing and facial hair. Of course, we're hoping that eventually you'll stop growing." Jonathan wasn't really sure about any of these things, he was merely hoping it would happen.
"How tall am I going to be?" Clark asked.
"No idea. That depends on your biological parents. Judging by your height and your foot size, I'd say 'tall'."
Clark grinned. "I don't mind being tall. Makes playing basketball easier."
Jonathan smiled. Clark's love for basketball had developed over the last year and he thoroughly enjoyed showing off in the one place he could: the basketball hoop Jonathan had been forced to mount on the side of the barn. Even when Pete came over to play with him (which he often did), Clark still played well, a fact that led Jonathan to believe Clar would have been skilled at basketball no matter what. "Well, good, cause I don't think you're going to have much choice in that matter," he answered.
It had really been easier that he'd thought it would be, Jonathan reflected as they headed back towards the house at the end of their talk. Not as vague and uncomfortable as his talk with his father had been and certainly more informative.
He nodded at Martha as they entered the house to let her know the talk was done, the information had been passed on and, no, they hadn't had to tell him EVERYTHING. "I did have to tell him why we couldn't have kids, though," he mentioned as they were getting ready for bed.
"And how did he respond to that?"
"Oh, he accepted it well enough. I think it was harder for him to accept the fact he will probably never have a little brother or sister."
Martha laughed. "Well, we could always adopt again, though I imagine it'd be a little difficult to explain to the adoption agency we've already adopted. We'd get a little more attention than we want."
"True enough." He folded back the bedspread and got in. "I do wonder, however, how much we can expect from Clark at this stage. I mean, how much will be normal, growing up as usual..."
"And how much will be the total unpredictability we've usually had with Clark?" Martha finished.
"You hit it on the head."
"I know." She lay down tiredly. "I suppose it would be unusual for things to be normal around here."
Author's note: And that's it. I don't imagine I'll be writing anymore. I really can't think of anything more I'd like to write, unless the day Chloe comes out to the farm to visit, but I'm not feeling too compelled to write on that. So yeah. As for Martha's infertility thing, well, I did some research into it and found that some cases of infertility fall under the category of "unexplained" and usually have to do with immunological disorders where the woman has built up anti-bodies either to the sperm or to letting the egg implant in the lining of the uterus. I picked the later, as it seemed like it would explain how the ship managed to "fix" that problem so easily. I was looking for something else, but the series has been a little vague on this issue and it's obvious she was capable of getting pregnant so...yeah. Anywoo. Thanks for all the kind reviews and I'll see you guys later. Go visit my Stan fic. If you're desperate :)
Martha opened the door to Clark's room cautiously as the last few months had taught her to do. It usually lessened the shock of whatever lay behind it. She peered around the door. Well, it wasn't so bad, all things considered. It seemed that in addition to being able to do everything faster, Clark was able to make them messy about a million times faster: his room was a disaster area of varying degrees. Clothes that should have been placedin the laundry were strewn all over the floor. Not that getting them to the laundry was a problem, Clark just always forgot. "I swear," Martha said to herself aloud, "I'm just going to stop gathering up his clothes. He'd probably end up going to school naked." She shoved a pile of dirty clothes into the laundry basket and then made a move towards his bed to pull off the sheets that were probably in as dire need of a good wash as the rest of his things. She yanked the comforter off the bed and it fell to the floor as she pulled off the top sheet and threw it into the basket. However, while reaching for the bottom one, a wet spot on the sheet her hand had had the misfortune of coming into contact with distracted her. "Ew," she said as she pulled her hand back. Disgusted, she wiped it on the other sheet then turned her attention back to the spot on the sheet. "What the heck is that?" she wondered for a second, then suddenly, she realized exactly what it was and pulled the bottom sheet off and threw it in the laundry basket to be washed. It clearly needed it.
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Martha glanced up from the stove as Jonathan came in from the fields at midday for lunch. She couldn't help but feel odd preparing lunch for only two when Clark was at school. The whole farm just seemed to quiet. Too relaxed. Sometimes she'd remember back to the days when Clark was afraid to go to school because she thought she and Jonathan would be gone when he got back. 'How odd,' she thought, 'that itÄs not me who is afraid that one day Clark will go off to school and never come home.' She sat the lunch down on the table and the two of them began to eat while Martha racked her brain for a way to bring up the topic most on her mind.
Jonathan, on the other hand, seemed to only have the farm on his mind. "A couple more weeks of this weather and I think we can count on a bumper wheat crop this year. That'll be a blessing after last year's crop," Jonathan made a look of disgust at that memory. "We'll have to find a new fieldhand to replace Earl. Don't ask me where we'll find one. I'll also have to see if Clark is up to helping repair the combine today. He can't do it quickly so I don't know--"
"I think you need to have a talk with Clark," Martha burst in, deciding there probably wouldn't be a better moment.
"Uh...what?" Jonathan said confused.
"I think you should talk with Clark." She put emphasis on the word 'talk'.
Jonathan stared at her, the confused look still on his face. "Martha--do you really think the time is right? I mean he's kind of young."
"Oh, trust me, it's time."
Jonathan still didn't believe her. "I mean, has he been asking you questions? He hasn't said anything to me."
"I'm not sure he knows it exactly himself. Which is why now is the perfect time to have the talk."
This was simply too much for Jonathan. "Martha, I thought we agreed not to tell him until he started asking questions himself," he said, his voice filled with irritation. "Until an our explanations are no longer good enough."
Realization dawned on Martha. "Jonathan, that's NOT the talk I'm talking about!" She started to laugh. "I don't want you to give him THAT talk. I want to to give him THE talk."
The sudden change of direction left Jonathan in the dust. "THE talk?"
"Yes. THE talk."
Jonathan got it. "Oooohh...THAT talk."
Martha was relieved. "Good, you got it. I was worried I was going to have to draw a picture."
He laughed. "Sorry, it's hard to know what you're talking about when there are two really big things Clark doesn't know about."
"Yeah, I know. I guess we ought to be happy--It means he's normal...to this extent at least."
Jonathan nodded and scooped the last bite of food into his mouth. "Yeah, it also means that Clark and I will be going on a walk today instead of repairing the combine."
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Jonathan looked up as he heard footsteps on the barn floor and saw Clark standing there awkwardly. He hand't sped in as usual and seemed ill at ease. "Mom said you wanted me?" He said.
'I think he thinks he's in trouble,' Jonathan thought, amused. "Just wait there, I'll be done in a second, son." His tone of voice made Clark's expression change from being sure he'd done something wrong to one of confusion and Jonathan was suddenly aware that he was enjoying this. It was somehow satisfying to see Clark not enitrely sure if he was in trouble or not. 'I wonder if I should pretend he is just to see if he's been up to anything he shouldn't be and hasn't thought to tell anyone.' As the last piece of equipment snapped inot place, Jonathan changed his mind and stood up to face his son. "Come on, Clark, let's go for a walk." As the exited the barn, Jonathan couldn't help but notice Clark was walking with the awkwardness of a 12 year old boy but Jonathan could only imagine how that must be compounded by the fact Clark was stronger and faster that most other ones. He wondered sudeenly if Clark's people had some sort of coming of age ceremoney and found himself picturing ritualistic tattooing, dancing around open fires and roast wild boar. He shook his head firmly to get the images out of his head.
"I'm not in trouble, am?" Clark asked finally while Jonathan was still trying to think of a good angle to approach this from,. "No, no, you're not in trouble. Unless of course you've done something recently you should be in trouble for," Jonathan threw Clark a sharp look and Clark quickly denied it. "Good, I'm glad." He pause, somehow feeling this should be easier than it was. How had his dad done it? Actually, now that Jonathan thought about it, his dad hadn't really had to explain much. Jonathan had pretty much figured it out himself, as growing up on a farm didn't exactly leave much room for ignorance on that matter. What Jonathan had received was basically a confirmation that it worked much the same way with humans, too. 'I just won't let the snag tha Clark isn't human bother me,' he decided.
"Let's see," he said outloud, "you're twelve now, aren't you?"
"Almost thirteen," Clark said helpfully.
"Yeah," Jonathan agreed. Not that it mattered, that only meant that it had been 10 years ago that he and Martha had found Clark in a field. "That means," he continued, "that one way or another, you're beginning to maure. I'm not going to pretend you're completely ignorant about this and I guess I'm just here to tell you it's normal and answer any questions you have." 'What a good feeling it is,' he realized, 'to tell your son something's normal and, for once, actually mean it.' "Like the fact that you're growing faster than you can run now," he pressed down on Clark's shoulder as though he were trying to make him smaller. "If you don't stop soon, you'll be taller than I am," he joked.
Clark laughed and for that moment the awkwardness was gone. They walked along for a bit in the aftermath of that moment then Clark said, "You mean all this about sex, don't you Dad?"
Jonathan didnÄt know if it was aw good thing or not that the topic was finally out in the open and decided it didn't matter; he's just have to go along with it. "Yes, I do. And you're just now reaching the age where, physically speaking, you'll be albe to have children of your own. Though that doesn't mean I recommend it," he added quietly.
Clark looked very taken aback. "No!" he said firmly, "I don't want kids now that's just...blech." He made an exaggerated disgusted look on his face and Jonathan laughed. "I'm glad but you'll want them eventually, trust me."
"Like you and mom wanted me," Clark said.
"Yeah, like that," Jonathan agreed.
"But you couldn't have kids of your own...?" The question was unasked but it was a question all the same and Jonathan knew he had to answer. "No, so we adopted you." Clark didn't say anything and Jonathan decided to go a bit futher. "You see, after we were married," 'That's it, combine the dieas of sex and marriage,' he told himself, "we wanted children but your mom couldn't have any and we went to the doctor and found out that her body had built up antibodies against a baby."
"Couldn't she just get that fixed?" Clark asked.
"Maybe but it would have been too...difficult." Too expensive, too time costly, too stressfull on Martha herself. They had thought about it so much and the thoughts of undergoing any of the treatments the doctors had offered had been tempting but in the end they both knew it was beyond their means. Jonathan doubted he would ever forget the pain of having to deny Martha something so simple as a child just because they couldn't afford it. "Then we got you and haven't really given it much thought." Emphasize on the work 'much'.
"Oh. but you guys could adopt again, couldn't you?"
'Does he want a younger sibling`?' Jonathan wondered. "I suppose," he answered, 'If another spaceship crashed in our backyard,' then outloud, "but the process is very strenuous and we were lucky we got you. I don't know if it would happen quite as easily a second time." He tried to keep his answers as vague as possible but Jonathan couldn't help but wonder if he were saying too much. He didn't want to openly lie to Clark. "In any case, you're just starting to go through puberty. In a while, I imagine you'll be getting to the really fun stuff, like your voice changing and facial hair. Of course, we're hoping that eventually you'll stop growing." Jonathan wasn't really sure about any of these things, he was merely hoping it would happen.
"How tall am I going to be?" Clark asked.
"No idea. That depends on your biological parents. Judging by your height and your foot size, I'd say 'tall'."
Clark grinned. "I don't mind being tall. Makes playing basketball easier."
Jonathan smiled. Clark's love for basketball had developed over the last year and he thoroughly enjoyed showing off in the one place he could: the basketball hoop Jonathan had been forced to mount on the side of the barn. Even when Pete came over to play with him (which he often did), Clark still played well, a fact that led Jonathan to believe Clar would have been skilled at basketball no matter what. "Well, good, cause I don't think you're going to have much choice in that matter," he answered.
It had really been easier that he'd thought it would be, Jonathan reflected as they headed back towards the house at the end of their talk. Not as vague and uncomfortable as his talk with his father had been and certainly more informative.
He nodded at Martha as they entered the house to let her know the talk was done, the information had been passed on and, no, they hadn't had to tell him EVERYTHING. "I did have to tell him why we couldn't have kids, though," he mentioned as they were getting ready for bed.
"And how did he respond to that?"
"Oh, he accepted it well enough. I think it was harder for him to accept the fact he will probably never have a little brother or sister."
Martha laughed. "Well, we could always adopt again, though I imagine it'd be a little difficult to explain to the adoption agency we've already adopted. We'd get a little more attention than we want."
"True enough." He folded back the bedspread and got in. "I do wonder, however, how much we can expect from Clark at this stage. I mean, how much will be normal, growing up as usual..."
"And how much will be the total unpredictability we've usually had with Clark?" Martha finished.
"You hit it on the head."
"I know." She lay down tiredly. "I suppose it would be unusual for things to be normal around here."
Author's note: And that's it. I don't imagine I'll be writing anymore. I really can't think of anything more I'd like to write, unless the day Chloe comes out to the farm to visit, but I'm not feeling too compelled to write on that. So yeah. As for Martha's infertility thing, well, I did some research into it and found that some cases of infertility fall under the category of "unexplained" and usually have to do with immunological disorders where the woman has built up anti-bodies either to the sperm or to letting the egg implant in the lining of the uterus. I picked the later, as it seemed like it would explain how the ship managed to "fix" that problem so easily. I was looking for something else, but the series has been a little vague on this issue and it's obvious she was capable of getting pregnant so...yeah. Anywoo. Thanks for all the kind reviews and I'll see you guys later. Go visit my Stan fic. If you're desperate :)