InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "You make me itch."

clark kent (superman) (whenyouseered) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2011-11-05 22:14:00

Entry tags:

clark kent/superman, darcy rhone

WHO: Clark & Darcy
WHAT: The new mommy is free of hospital shaped places and Clark is twitchy about potentially accidentally hurting the new kiddies.
WHEN: Early evening (slightly backdated to yesterday).
WHERE: The apartment complex.
RATING: PG.

Even though Clark had left all the windows in Darcy's apartment open, the place hadn't quite aired out yet. He didn't know if it was because the paint he'd rolled across the nursery walls had been too thick or if it was because of some sort of special chemical that was used in that brand of paint in particular, but it had taken a little longer than expected for the room to be safe for infants to stay within, let alone the whole apartment. Because of that, Clark had promised Darcy that she and her newborns could crash at his own place in the complex, which was far less filled with dizzying paint fumes and, as a result, much safer for the Rhone family.

Clark had to admit, he wasn't really all that used to being around babies. Yes, there were plenty of neighboring farmers from Smallville who had children of their own that Clark had occasionally met in passing, but that wasn't the same as living among them, in which he was partially responsible for making sure that they were well taken care of. Not to mention, Darcy's own children were younger than any that he had ever really encountered before. Clark was admittedly terrified of making too much physical contact with any of them ; he had to tone down his strength for human interaction enough as it was. The mere thought of how easy it would have been on his part to break a child terrified him enough to keep him at a very careful distance from any opportunity that required him to pick up either of Darcy's children. That didn't mean that he didn't help her when she needed it, nor would he avoid doing so in the future, but right now, Clark really didn't want to take any chances. He worked without touching them too much, all the while ensuring that he was especially careful not to mention his fears to Darcy, who Clark feared would shy away from him upon discovering what was really going on inside his head. Clark worried that she would either realize that he was right – that he was dangerous company for her to be having around her new babies – or she would find his worries ridiculous and would instead decide that he didn't want anything to do with her children at all and happened to be making up some kind of lame excuse to hide that fact. Both of the images that Clark had concocted in his anxiety didn't end well on his part, so he selfishly decided to keep his concerns to himself in hopes of avoiding potentially losing Darcy before they had even really begun. He wanted to help and he wanted to be there for Darcy and the kids ; it was just that tiny detail, along with the notion that he had no idea what he was doing, that made Clark wary.

That wariness, of course, didn't keep Clark from allowing the Rhone family to stay at his apartment. He had cleared out some extra space in his bedroom so that the crib that he had built for the twins was close by, since he knew that Darcy would want to keep a close eye on them during their first night out of the hospital. The bedroom in itself had been cleaned to perfection (in Clark's nervousness, he had decided that a room anything less than sparkling would be unacceptable to his new guests [who probably wouldn't much remember anything that they saw in Clark's apartment, as they were too tiny, but still], so he'd gone through a cleaning rampage prior to picking them up) and the apartment that followed wasn't looking too shabby either.

It was in that not-too shabby apartment that Clark currently resided. After bringing the group back to the complex, Clark had helped Darcy bring in whatever she needed to get by for the night prior to slipping off to the kitchen, where he planned on getting dinner together for Darcy and himself as she worked at settling in with the babies. In all honesty, Clark had been in a little rush to start in on dinner, as it gave him a few more minutes to prepare himself for whatever awaited him on the baby front.

So, while Darcy tended to her children in the next room over, Clark nervously fiddled with the meat and noodles he'd been cooking for their spaghetti dinner. Clark slid the cooked hamburger meat back to cool, but in all his distraction he had forgotten to turn the side of the burner that he had been using to cook the meat on off. It was in that same chain of distraction that Clark thoughtlessly and unknowingly placed his palm over the burner, the blazing heat - which would have burnt the flesh off of any other creature, easily - not bothering him in the slightest as he continued to quietly stir at the noodles.

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total_milf
2011-11-07 12:14 am UTC (link)

Darcy felt badly staying with Clark, now. Things between the two of them hadn't really changed at all. If anything, she felt closer to him than she had before. It was impossible not to; he'd been there, letting her squeeze his hand and scream obscenities and hate slurs against Marcus in his ears while birthing her twins. Granted, she felt the same closeness to the Doctor, he hadn't exactly invited her and the boys to crash out in the TARDIS. Clark's it was.

She'd thanked Clark for the billionth time as he'd helped her bring their things into his bedroom and then he'd left her to tend to dinner while she meant to change and feed the twins. Only, this was the first time ever she'd been completely alone with them. Even with Clark in the next room, it made her nervous. There had always been Clark, or a nurse, or Florence, or Martha, or the Doctor, or some visitor or another hovering. Even when she'd been nursing, the nurses had stayed in the room to keep the waiting twin occupied.

Ethan wasn't crying, which was a miracle of sorts, as he only ever seemed to quiet when he could hear a male voice or Florence. So, Darcy didn't want to jinx it. She said nothing as she checked the doorway to see that Clark was actually gone from sight before carefully taking him out of his car seat and settled on the edge of Clark's bed, cradling Ethan in one arm while using her free hand to unbutton her shirt. She wouldn't have actually cared if Clark saw, but something told her he might care. Darcy rocked Sammy's car seat on the floor gently with one foot, making a conscious effort not to wish, as she looked down briefly at the sleeping twin, that they were a little more alike, at least in some aspects. That wasn't fair and she refused to allow herself to choose a favorite.

Sammy slept so much. He'd barely opened his eyes at all the first couple of days, whereas Ethan had briefly done so to stare at she and Clark. And Alice. And Florence. He seemed more alert to his surroundings than his more blase-mooded little brother. Part of Darcy wondered if that was normal. The very same part of her hoped it was.

Once she'd finished feeding Ethan, wincing slightly when she had to all but pry him off, Darcy sat him carefully on her knee and wrapped one hand gently around his neck, however counter intuitive it felt, just like the nurses had shown her, and then tapped on his back with her other hand until he made the tell-tale sound that was less a burp than anything Darcy had ever heard before her babies were born. One down, one to go.

But as soon as Darcy laid Ethan down on his receiving blanket which she'd already spread out on Clark's bed and turned to pick Sammy up for his turn, Ethan started wailing like it was the end of the world. Which, of course, woke Sammy and he joined in with his older brother for a rousing chorus of we hate you, Mama, now we'll make your ears bleed. At least, that was how Darcy heard it.

"I know, baby, I know," she cooed sympathetically at Sammy as she lifted him out of the carseat and sat back down on the bed, rubbing Ethan's back with one hand and shifting Sammy into feeding position with the other. She opened her mouth to call for Clark's help and stopped herself. Clark was not their father; they were not his responsibility. She wasn't his responsibility. She could handle it. She'd have to. Clark wasn't going to be with her every waking moment of every single day. This was the part where she envied Jo her husband...even if it was Chuck and the only impression she'd gotten of the guy was the freaked out, mostly useless alternate version of him.

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total_milf
2011-11-07 12:15 am UTC (link)

Ethan went on screaming, his volume seeming to amplify exponentially when she lifted her hand away from his back to silence Sam with his turn to eat. "Oh my God, I can't do this," she breathed, closing her eyes and returning to the circular motion of her hand on her younger son's back. "Ethan," she pleaded. "Ethan Clark...why so upset?" The latter question came out in that voice that Darcy knew was reserved for small children but that she'd always hated hearing other people use because of the patronizing nature of it. "Shhh," she tried, rewarded only with a break in the wailing long enough to accommodate a hiccup.

Darcy looked at the open door of Clark's bedroom again and knit her brow. "Ethan, please? Shhh..."

The younger of the twins kept up through Sammy's entire feeding and burping, through Darcy putting Sammy in his car seat again and giving him the pacifier — and Christ, she wished Ethan would stop spitting his out — and quieted slightly but not entirely, at least, when she lifted him back up off Clark's bed and held him close with one arm while using her free hand to lift Sammy's car seat. With that, she left the room, following the smell of food.

"Clark, can you talk, please? I don't even care what you say," she finally admitted, raising her voice just slightly to be heard over the baby as she approached the kitchen. "It's just Ethan likes your— Clark, your hand is on the burner!" she gasped, eyes wide as she stared at him.

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whenyouseered
2011-11-07 06:45 am UTC (link)

Clark had considered making a move back for the bedroom when he heard the shrill sound of one of the boys – Ethan, maybe? - crying. He wasn't too fond of the sound, even though he knew that, as with all children, crying was perfectly natural. Still, knowing that something was wrong bothered him, even though Clark was pretty sure it was nothing terribly serious. Ethan – or Sammy – was probably just hungry. Darcy would take care of that easily enough on her own, as mothers did, and everything would be perfectly fine. So Clark stuck to dinner up until Darcy came marching into the kitchen with a wailing child in arms, practically begging him to do something to help calm him down. In this case, it was a simple enough request – all he had to do was talk to little Ethan – but the words that came out of Darcy's mouth were momentarily pushed aside when she began to panic over the state of his hand. Confused, Clark looked down at the stove to see what she was referring to, a wave of indifference in regards to the state of his own physical safety washing over him when he realized that she was worried about the glowing red burner his hand had been resting against.

“Oh!” Clark lifted his hand up and turned to look at Darcy, who appeared to be all too wide eyed over the situation than he would have preferred. It was natural for her to worry, though ; anyone else in this situation would have been left with a charred mess of a hand by now and, to someone who wasn't quite used to seeing the super part of the man being displayed regularly, it was understandable that panic would be the immediate reaction on noticing what Darcy herself had. Quickly, Clark turned his hand over to show her that no harm had been done, hoping to push all that panic away as soon as possible. “It's fine. I'm fine. I don't hurt so easy, see?”

That aside, Clark turned the burner off and pushed the pot of noodles back, lightly noting that they were finished in the process. He made sure to turn that burner off too. He might have been pretty tough skinned, but that didn't mean that Darcy was. The last thing he needed was for her to accidentally wander over and pull the same sort of stunt he had, minus the part where he walked away completely unscathed. She had just gotten out of the hospital. It was extremely unlikely that she wanted to make a return visit anytime soon.

“What's the matter with Ethan?” Clark asked, brow furrowing thoughtfully as he looked the little guy over. It seemed like Ethan was always a little more fidgety than Sammy, from what Clark had seen of the two. Clark wasn't sure if that was because there was something going on with him or if it was because the kid was naturally prone to being a little troublemaker, but he knew that it didn't bode well for Darcy, who would have to figure out different ways to soothe Ethan when he got like this.

It seemed that the sound of someone talking seemed to be one of the ways she'd figured out so far?

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total_milf
2011-11-07 07:06 am UTC (link)

Blinking rapidly, Darcy's jaw wobbled between shock and an attempt to hide it when Clark was so casual about his hand on a red hot burner. Even when he showed her his hand — which was completely untouched by the heat — it took Darcy a second to recover and accept what she was seeing as real. Knowing that he was Superman was one thing, but seeing it in action was entirely another. That was the first time that Darcy was jolted into the reality that her boyfriend wasn't just another average Joe, even if he played off like he was a lot of the time. "I...oh," she finally managed, a little stupidly.

Ethan's crying faltered for a second when Clark spoke, only to start again when he stopped and Darcy began. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second, willing herself not to let her exhaustion push her into crying. Darcy hated crying; it was unattractive at best and embarrassing at worst. In front of Clark, she'd done it twice — the first night she'd stayed with him after Kon had died and then again when she was giving birth — and both times had been out of pain, first emotional and then physical. But...she didn't want to make it a habit, by any means.

She opened her mouth to finish explaining to Clark that Ethan liked the sound of his voice and that was why she was asking for him to talk, even if it was about nothing in particular at all, but Clark spoke again before she could, asking what was wrong with Ethan. Well, he asked what the matter was, but Darcy heard wrong and it made her wince slightly. She hadn't really considered it was something wrong until that very second. "Um...he hates me or something," she replied, only half-joking, even if she did give Clark a weak smile as she started to rock back and forth in place. "He just, I don't know, he really likes your voice. And Florence's," she sighed, leaning down just slightly to set Sammy's car seat on the kitchen floor. If this went on for too long, Sammy was going to definitely end up with some sort of resentment toward all the attention his little brother got and Darcy didn't like that idea at all.

She'd have to figure something else out, eventually, but for now...this would have to do; Clark was there, so she was going to take advantage of it.

Ethan wailed again and Darcy could feel him either attempting to throw his head back against her hand or else losing control of his neck momentarily. "He's fed, he's burped, he's dry...I don't know what his deal is," she admitted, looking away from Clark and back down at the baby in her arms. "Shhh...hey...listen, listen," she prodded, "Clark's right here, he'll talk to you okay? Please stop crying; you'll hurt yourself," she pleaded, frowning with concern as the younger twin's face went beet red with all of the effort he was putting into making so much noise. She looked back up at Clark, then, expectantly. It didn't occur to her to feel badly for putting him on the spot. Especially when Sammy spit out his pacifier and started in again, as well.

"Still want to let us crash?" she asked apologetically, reaching down to pick up Sammy's car seat again and moving away from Clark, nodding her head in a gesture requesting that he follow her, and making her way to his couch where she sat, positioning Sammy's seat so that she could rock it, again, with her foot.

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whenyouseered
2011-11-09 06:51 am UTC (link)

To say that Darcy looked freaked about Sammy and Ethan would have been something of an understatement. Who could blame her? She was a parent, one responsible for two newborn children, and she had no experience on that front whatsoever. Clark felt awkward and confused about a lot in relation to children, sure, but at least he didn't have to constantly worry about their every need throughout every single second of every single day from here on out. He wasn't their mother ; Darcy was and that was probably the biggest responsibility any given person could ever take on. Eventually, with time and practice, Clark was confident that Darcy would get all of this down. Juggling back and forth from one baby to the other, giving them exactly what they needed, knowing what tricks to use when they started to cry and pout – she'd get it. Clark knew she would. In fact, if what she was saying was any indication, it already looked like she had some idea of what they were preferable to.

At least for now. Darcy would figure out something else later, when Clark and Florence couldn't be around to talk to the babies when she needed them to. But she had plenty of time to figure that out and Clark was more than happy to help where he could, so long as it didn't involve him making too much physical contact with either child until he felt comfortable with the idea that he wouldn't accidentally hurt them.

Clark didn't see why his voice would have been so fascinating to the baby, but if Darcy was convinced that it was what he wanted, Clark would do his best to make sure Ethan got it.“Uh...” Right. Baby talk. He could have a conversation with a baby, right? It couldn't have been that hard. Clark carefully leaned in, blue eyes searching over the shaking, wailing infant uncertainly before he awkwardly gave the talking thing a try. “Hey, buddy, what're you crying about? Don't you know you're 'sposed to be quiet? Your poor mommy needs a break.”

Sammy had started in, too. Clark couldn't help but catch the apologetic look on Darcy's face as she second guessed his stance on the situation. "Of course I do. It's gonna take more than a couple baby tears to drive me away, Darce," Clark insisted, in spite of the niggling worry that he wasn't too safe for either of the boys that was buried deep down inside him.

"We'll get them sorted out," he promised, shuffling behind Darcy and into the living area, where she had taken to the couch. Clark didn't sit. Instead, he leaned against the back of the couch so that he was peering down from behind Darcy's shoulder at Ethan, who still seemed to need a little bit of a talking to. Clark cleared his throat and tried again. "You know, I know a big secret about you and your brother, Ethan." Clark glanced over at Sammy, inviting him into the conversation, even though he was pretty sure that neither child understood a word he was saying. When he was sure both of the little guys were looking at him, Clark leaned in, almost as though he really were about to share a huge secret with the pair, and declared, "You've got the best mom in the whole, wide world. I know she seems a little weird -" Clark shot Darcy a grin. "- but she's the best. Trust me ; you two are the luckiest kids in the whole world. But shh. Don't tell anyone, okay? If any of the other babies found out, they'd get jealous, and we don't want that, do we?"

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total_milf
2011-11-09 07:33 am UTC (link)

While Ethan didn't stop crying when Clark started talking directly to him, he quieted a little at it. Darcy looked at Clark with a small smirk at the statement he'd made. Yeah, she really did need a break; too bad she wasn't really going to get one for years and years. When Sammy started in and Clark reassured her that it was fine that they stay and it was going to take more than the boys' crying to drive him off, she gave him a weak smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

The thing was, however much Darcy wished that Clark was equally in this as much as she was, the only reason she had for feeling that way was because she was scared and she didn't want to have to do it all by herself. She was loathe to admit to herself that it had next to nothing to have to do with Clark himself. The fact of the matter was — and she had to remind herself way more often than she would have preferred — that Clark wasn't and never would be Ethan & Sammy's father. He would never have to take turns with her getting up in the middle of the night to change diapers or dry tears after nightmares.

Clark wasn't ever going to have to be the one to wake them up in the morning or listen to them cry all day. He wasn't ever going to have to hear, Daaaaad! Ethan hit me! or Daaa—aaaad! Tell Sammy to stop looking at me!!! He wasn't going to have to help her pay her bills and feed the boys at the same time; Clark wasn't ever going to have to be the one taking them to the doctor when they were sick or find a sitter when he wanted some alone time.

Darcy wanted very much for Clark to be a part of the boys' lives, but no matter how big a part he was, he would never be their father, he would never be their blood, and he would never have to stick around. So, while he said now that it was going to take more than baby tears to drive him away, Darcy wasn't so sure that eventually the baby tears and the diapers, and the spit up, and the screaming, and the million other things that Darcy now had ahead of her to face alone...might make him change his mind. Another thing, after all, that Darcy had to remind herself was that Clark was still young. He was in his prime, in his early twenties, and as much as she wanted to believe he was going to be there for her and her children, there was still that seed of doubt settled deep in the pit of her stomach that eventually, Clark was going to realize he had tied himself down...and that he needed to cut the leash.

Darcy had taken a seat on the couch, and when she started to rock his car seat, Sammy had stopped crying and opened his eyes again. This time, for the first time that Darcy had seen, he'd kept them open long enough to look up at her as Clark addressed them both, from his spot behind the couch. She gave him a smile and blew an air kiss at the younger of the two twins before looking back at Ethan who was still taking wobbly breaths as he calmed himself, but had, never the less, stopped crying. The silence that followed in the pause between Clark's speaking was music to her ears.

Ethan's wet eyes trained themselves on Clark and Darcy smiled, looking up at Clark in time to catch his grin before she moved her eyes back down to Sammy. He, too, seemed to be looking up at Clark, if even only for the first part of Clark's so-called secret before he closed his eyes and pushed his fingers into his mouth.

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total_milf
2011-11-09 07:34 am UTC (link)

As Clark went on, Darcy watched Ethan, feeling tears of her own prickling in her eyes as her cheeks went pink and she felt her face growing hot. Sammy was falling asleep again. Ethan had started chewing on his fist as he stared up at Clark, finally quieted and calm. It was the same look he gave Florence — the one that looked to Darcy like rapt attention, even if it probably wasn't — when she spoke and even more so when she sang.

"See?" Darcy asked, looking over at Clark after having blinked back the urge to cry — again; God, she hoped this wasn't some fucked up postpartum thing — "He gets like that with Florence, too. I don't think he likes the pitch in my voice as much. He really likes yours. Probably because it's way lower," she speculated. Her attention went back down to Ethan and she gave him a finger to wrap his free, tiny hand around. Darcy wiggled the finger and smiled at her son. "That's better, huh? When Clark talks? He's got a way better voice than Mama, huh?" she teased, only half-joking with the sentiment.

Without looking up at Clark again, initially, Darcy gently tapped Ethan's nose with her first finger. "You little snot," she whispered, grinning. "Thanks, baby," she added, looking over at Clark again to let him know that she was addressing him this time. Arching her eyebrows slightly, she gave a soft smile. "You wanna hold him?" she offered.

Men, in her experience, had little to no interest in holding babies. At least, not the way that women wanted to. Still, she figured she ought to offer. "Actually...if you wanted to, that'd be awesome, because I could go put Sammy down for the night..." she added tentatively with an expression that was ever so slightly hopeful while, at the same time, reflecting her understanding if he was disinterested. Clark acted like he was going to break her sometimes, she'd thought; she could only imagine how much more uncomfortable the idea of her sons must be to him.

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whenyouseered
2011-11-13 05:25 am UTC (link)

Clark honestly hadn't expected for his voice to be the key to calming Ethan down. It had felt like a shot in the dark prior to him starting up with it, but now that Ethan had quieted and Darcy was pointing out that it was thanks to the few sentences he had to offer the child, Clark couldn't help but wonder if she was right. He sheepishly slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked down at his feet, the knowledge that he had been able to accomplish something so tiny, yet big at the same time, with the mere sound of his voice momentarily throwing him off.

“Maybe it's because we've got different voices? They might already know yours better than ours,” Clark suggested, looking to Darcy with an inquisitive smile. “We're probably just weird to them is all. They know who their mommy is.” They had only been alive a few days, but Darcy had definitely been around them the most. That was one potential explanation, wasn't it? Or maybe all this really didn't require any explanation at all. Maybe the boys just really liked his voice. Or maybe it was a funny combination of the two – they thought that he was weird and they thought his voice was interesting enough to distract them from their tears. Either way, if it was something that worked for now, Clark found he was more than happy to help Darcy. Talking was easy enough, wasn't it?

“Anything for you,” Clark said with a warm smile. He hadn't missed the emotionally overwhelmed sort of look that Darcy had put on earlier ; there was something there that wasn't being put into words that had caused him to turn his head a bit, but Clark didn't draw it out of her. It was possible that she was overwhelmed, both physically and emotionally at this point, because of the new responsibilities that had been laid on her. For that, Clark couldn't blame her. It was part of why he was so happy to help her wherever he could.

...except for when she asked him to hold Ethan. That was when that awkward demeanor of his came seeping back in through the edges quick as thunder. What if he held him the wrong way? What if he dropped the baby? What if he did something wrong and his powers went haywire and the baby wound up - no. He didn't want to think about it. Clark swallowed hard and looked down at Ethan uncertainly.

Him holding Ethan would help Darcy out. She'd have enough time to rush off to take care of Sammy and then, hopefully, she'd finally be able to get a moment to relax. That didn't change the way that he felt about the situation, nor did it keep the uncomfortable pause that followed her question from taking hold of the conversation. Clark cleared his throat and tore his gaze away from Ethan. If he didn't hold the baby, Darcy would have a harder time of it getting them to sleep. She'd think he was being weird or something and Clark didn't want her to think he was freaking out. The last thing that Darcy needed right now was more to worry over. Clark had vowed to help her make things easier. This was not making things easier, was it?

"Uh..." He paused, hesitant. "Uh, yeah. Okay. Let me just -" Hopelessly, Clark stepped around the couch, that way he wasn't facing the back end and looking over Darcy's shoulder. "You go ahead. I'll take him." And hopefully not break him. Oh god.

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total_milf
2011-11-13 10:08 pm UTC (link)

Clark had suggested that it wasn't, perhaps, so much that the boys — Ethan — liked his and Florence's voices more than hers, but that maybe they were more interesting because they were mostly foreign. As much as Darcy wanted to be on board with that, she didn't entirely buy it. Though, it was, she supposed, plausible, considering the fact that that the boys would be comfortable with her voice, by now. She knew that babies could hear and recognize the voices of their mothers even in the womb. For the time being, she thought maybe she would cling to that idea, until it stopped seeming possible again.

She gave Clark another small smile when he'd responded to her gratitude. Darcy wondered, secretly, if that was true; if he really would do anything for her. Hopefully, she wouldn't ever need or want to test that theory. His smile seemed to fade away in favor of discomfort, though, when Darcy had asked him to hold Ethan for her to put Sammy to bed. She had to give credit where credit was due, though, because he agreed, anyway, however awkwardly so. Smirking slightly, Darcy bit her bottom lip and wrinkled her nose to keep from laughing. It really was just too cute, she thought, how nervous he seemed just then. One minute, he'd had his hand on a burner and hadn't even blinked but when she'd asked him to hold a baby, he looked like a deer in headlights.

Darcy stood up, holding Ethan close and nodded for Clark to sit down. "If you sit, maybe you won't be so nervous. Relax, sweetie...it's okay. He's not made of glass," she said with a tone of sympathetic understanding. "I promise. And I won't be long; Sammy's already sleeping. I just have to get him settled in the crib. Two minutes," she added.

Carefully, Darcy handed Ethan over to Clark, helping Clark to position his arms in such a way that both he and Ethan would be as comfortable as possible. "Just support his head and neck...and give him a finger to stuff in his mouth and he'll be your best friend," she said with a smile. Seeing her boyfriend holding one of her children filled Darcy with more emotion than she was willing to handle in front of Clark, though, and so with a kiss to both Ethan and Clark's foreheads, she bent to scoop Sammy out of his car seat and took her leave.

She'd laid the sleeping baby easily down on Clark's bed, rifling through the diaper bag to find a warmer onesie to put him to bed in, keeping an open ear in case Clark panicked, or Ethan started to cry again. It didn't take long, however, for her to change Sammy into something new and lay him carefully into the crib that Clark had been so kind as to build for her; for them. Then, she sneaked out of the room quietly when she was satisfied that Sammy was going to stay asleep and she crossed the apartment, hanging back just a bit to watch Clark with something akin to adoration on her face.

Finally, Darcy made her way around the couch again. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked with a smirk. "You're totally a natural," she teased. "Babies look good on you," she added, unable to keep a straight face, allowing herself a ghost of a giggle lest Clark think she was being suggestive of something she had no intention of putting on his shoulders.

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whenyouseered
2011-11-20 12:25 am UTC (link)

The second she walked off, Clark stupidly sat upright. His muscles tensed, his throat suddenly felt like it was closing in on itself, and Clark immediately loosened up his grip on poor Ethan as best as he could without dropping him. One wrong move was all that it would take. If Clark so much as breathed the wrong way...

He had tried to pay attention when Darcy stopped to explain how he was supposed to hold Ethan. He had let her shift his arms around, he had put on a pointedly attentive face, but - in spite of his efforts at attempting to understand what he was supposed to do - Clark had failed to fully take in what Darcy had said. In spite of his attentive demeanor, underneath that mask of his Clark had been caught up in such emotional turmoil that he honestly found he couldn't remember much of anything that Darcy had told him to do. What if he was holding Ethan the wrong way now? What was he supposed to do if he started crying? Was he insane? Why had he agreed to hold him? How was this even helping if he was putting Darcy's son at risk?

Clark opted to do the simple thing: avoid movement. The less he moved, the less likely he'd be to do something wrong. Arms stiffly in place, Clark peered down at Ethan with uncertain blue eyes, watching as the boy tangled his tiny fingers around one of Clark's own.

"So, uh, between you and me?" Clark started quietly, peering back uncertainly to make sure that Darcy was nowhere to be seen. When he found that she was still busy with Sammy, Clark re-focused his attention on Ethan, who looked up at him curiously at the sound of his voice. "I have no idea what I'm doing. I mean -" Clark shrugged awkwardly, movement minimized greatly for Ethan's sake. "- I just...you're so little." And fragile. Very, very fragile. "I'm not used to hanging around little guys like you," Clark admitted, putting on a sort of uncertain, yet sheepish sort of look. "So, in fairness to you, I'm putting all this out on the table, front and center, right now. Don't take it personally if I bumble around in the future when your mommy asks me to help you and your brother out, all right? I'm just a silly alien who doesn't know what he's doing. Promise not to hold it against me?"

If Ethan found that agreeable, Clark couldn't tell. The kid was more focused on keeping a grip on his finger, which seemed to be the more fascinating aspect of his new holder at the moment. Clark smiled lightly at that, decidedly going back to sitting awkwardly while praying that Darcy would make a quick return soon.

She did. But not to him. Even though only minutes had passed, it felt like it had been near an hour when Darcy finally walked back into the room. She called him a natural and Clark couldn't help but raise a semi skeptical eyebrow. "I don't know about that," he replied, shaking his head, "I feel like I'm probably...doing something wrong. Do you want him back...?"

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total_milf
2011-11-20 09:07 pm UTC (link)

Darcy's smile softened as she looked back at Clark with his skeptical expression. "You just need to relax. I know they're tiny, sweetie," she replied, sitting beside him on the couch. "And I get the whole super strength thing, I really do. You'll get used to it...if you want to," she added breezily, in hopes that she wasn't coming off as manipulative. If there was one person in the world that she did not want to manipulate, even unintentionally, it was Clark. "But," she added with a kiss to his cheek, "you're not doing it wrong, for what it's worth, and he looks pretty happy to me."

Clark asked if she wanted him back and if she was honest, no, she really didn't. It was sort of nice to have a small break, but she could see in Clark's posture that he was uncomfortable, so putting forth a great effort not to sigh, Darcy nodded. "That's fine, thanks baby," she replied, taking Ethan back from her boyfriend, letting him off the hook. At that, Darcy got to her feet and repositioned Ethan so that he was facing her and his head was resting against her chest as she started to rock back and forth slowly.

"Dinner smells amazing," she whispered to Clark, her expression one of sincere gratitude. "Just as soon as he passes out, I'll put him down and we can eat; I'm so hungry, I cannot wait," she added.

Darcy thought maybe Ethan had cried himself to exhaustion because even though he was quiet after being with Clark, he fell asleep only a minute or two later and Darcy gave Clark a tired smile and mouthed, "thank you again," to him before heading off to his bedroom so that she could lay Ethan down with his brother.

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