Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville or these characters.
Author's Note: Okay, so maybe I am developing something of a plot. I have no idea where this is going. I'm just going to work with it.
Thank you to my reviewers for your kind comments.
"Clark, this is the letter A. As in 'apple.' Like the apples we grow in the backyard!" Martha Kent pointed to the picture of an apple in the alphabet book she was reading with Clark. The two of them were sitting on Clark's bed in his room. "Honey, can you say 'apple?'"
"Aaaaa," was all Clark could manage.
"Okay. And what do we do with 'Aaaa?'"
Clark just gave his mother a blank stare.
"Come on, sweetie! What do Mommy, Daddy, and Clark do with apples?" When Clark still looked lost, Martha pantomimed eating an apple.
"Eeee!" Clark announced.
"Good boy!" Martha laughed, ruffling her son's hair.
The full scope of parenting was hitting Martha little by little. She knew that eventually, she would have to enroll Clark in school, but Clark would have to master English first. It would help, Martha thought to herself, if she and Jonathan knew where Clark was from. But that spaceship-like thing that was currently sitting in the storm cellar didn't seem too promising. Was the kid really from another planet?
"After A, Clark, comes the letter B. B, as in 'ball.' Can you say ball?"
"Baaa."
"Try again, honey. Ball." Martha put a deep emphasis on the L.
"Ball," said Clark quietly.
"Clark, honey!" Martha dropped the alphabet book, wrapped her arms around her son, and kissed him. "You said your first full word! Oh, Mommy's so proud! This deserves an extra cookie at dessert tonight!" In response, Clark let out a small cry and tugged on his mother's blouse. He obviously wanted something.
"What is it, sweetie? What do you want?"
Clark put his thumb in his mouth. Martha gently grabbed hold of her son's hand and removed his thumb from his mouth. "Clark, sweetie, we don't suck our thumb," she told him, shaking her head. "What do you want? Are you hungry? Is that why you're putting something in your mouth?"
Clark looked very distressed. He let out another cry, and pointed inside his mouth.
"I think you're either hungry or thirsty. Let's go downstairs and get you something." Martha picked up Clark and carried him downstairs to the kitchen.
This was one of the moments she had always dreaded. Late at night, lying next to Jonathan in bed, she confessed that there would be moments where Clark would want something, and she wouldn't be able to understand him. "Until he can speak the language, honey, I worry," she wept to him.
"I understand, Martha. But let's just take it little by little. We have a pretty smart kid," Jonathan replied, reaching for his wife's hand and squeezing it.
Martha sat Clark down at his booster seat on the kitchen table, then went to the kitchen counter and picked up a banana. "Snack?" she asked Clark, holding up the banana. "Clark, are you hungry? Do you want a snack?"
Clark let out a cry. Tears were forming in his eyes. He grabbed something invisible in front of him, and shoved it into his mouth. He pantomimed a sucking motion with his lips.
"Oh!" Martha exclaimed. She went to the cupboard and took out an empty sippy cup. "Drink, honey? Are you thirsty!"
"EEEEEEE!" Clark squealed and tried to move out of his booster seat, reaching anxiously for the sippy cup in his mother's hands.
Martha laughed. "Wait until I fill it, sweetie!" She carefully went to the refrigerator and filled the sippy cup with milk. Relieved that she understood what her son wanted, she sat down next to him at the kitchen table and handed him the sippy cup. Clark took it, shoved it into his mouth, and drank thirstily.
At that moment, the back door opened, and Jonathan walked in, his jeans and plaid t-shirt splattered in dirt. "Honey, can you come out back and looked at the tractor with me? It won't start."
"You didn't run into a meteor rock out into the field, did you?" Martha asked worriedly. "The Sherriff warned us!"
"No, I don't think so, honey. It just won't start; I think there's something wrong with the motor. At most, we'll probably just have to get a repairman out here."
"Okay. I'm coming." Martha picked Clark out of his booster seat. Clark still looked as happy as ever, sucking away at his sippy cup as if nothing was wrong. "Come on, Clark. Let's go help Daddy."