Eirene

The Fourth of July, just a date on a calender everywhere but America, dawns with a warm, brilliant light that promised a nice holiday for pretty much everyone in the country.

Except the Kent household, contained on the back forty of the Kent farm, wherein one small blond is too busy cursing whoever happens to come in a twenty foot radius of the bed she's currently stuck in. Her mother, also blond but tall and elegant as well, is there, playing referee between the woman currently trying to give birth and the man who got her pregnant in the first place.

This has been going on since an hour before sunrise. The ease of Eirene's first pregnancy is just a distant memory now, this second baby is apparently larger and more energetic than the first, and determined to announce its presence in the most dramatic way possible.

Another hour passes, with the paternal grandmother now there and distracting the maternal grandmother in the kitchen with a basic lesson in making muffins, while the maternal grandfather has, unusually for him, taken over as the other birthing coach - apparently he was paying attention through some of the births of his many children.

Eirene is grateful for the support of both men.

And, finally, at 9:10 AM, four hours after she went into serious labor, her second child is born.

A boy, promptly named Jon Galen Kent.

Clark finally has his son.

hero_farmboy borrowed with much love.

It's been four days since her husband buried his biological father. Clark has been keeping himself busy with work, or farm chores, in what appears to be another attempt to cut himself off from everyone. It's an irrational maneuver, but understandable if one knows how many people he's lost over the years. Eirene's been trying to give him the space he needs, hoping that the barely-there smiles aimed at his daughter will pass, or the way Clark holds himself so stiffly will end.

( He's hurting. )

On any regular day, he's dust and steel, determination and optimism. A farmer from a line of farmers that's accepted a job in the city, and tries to blend all sides of himself into something cohesive. Someone able to make a difference in the world, whether that happens to be with words or actions, depending on the situation.

Co-workers mostly see the farmboy, the plaid, the commitment to his job. The late nights and empty coffee cups fighting piles of paper for dominance on his desk. Friends know the quieter side, how far he's come, and how far they think he has to go. Good friends know most of the rest, why he's so private and driven. The judgemental side, and the heroic one, still covered in dust and steel.

Eirene gets to see the soft side of Clark Kent. How tender he is with his daughter, whether it's coaxing Zoe to take milk from a bottle while his wife is attempting to take a shower, or the alien language he hums to her at night. The care with which he slips back into bed with them on Saturday mornings after chores are done, and the relaxed expression on his face when he's watching a football game with Zoe resting on his chest.

Soft.

She's almost a week old, so I'm hoping they let us go home next week not that I won't take her and leave if I think that's the best thing.

Clark has managed to get some sleep, thank you Kara for taking over "baby watch" so he could, and thank you Chloe for the wonderful gifts. I know I said it in person already, but its worth repeating.

Zoe has the best aunts in the world.


[ooc: photo snagged from google and is not mine]

Eirene knows that Clark can find her pretty much anywhere on the planet, so she doesn't try to conceal herself. The whole point is making a game out of it and having fun. After a few seconds of debating, she chooses a spot near Galveston, Texas, on the Gulf of Mexico. It's warm, the beach is deserted, and the sky above is riddled with stars.

She waits there, on a blanket, counting down the second minute. He's got three to go.