Prompt Post - Part Five [CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS]
THIS PART IS NOW CLOSED. YOU CAN CONTINUE POSTING FILLS, BUT PLEASE PROMPT ALL NEW THINGS HERE.
Part one here!
Part two here!
Part three here!
Part four here!
Feel free to reprompt posts from parts one, two, three or four in part five once. If you do so, I'd recommend leaving a link to your fill on the original prompt, in case somebody is tracking ( Read more... )
Superman, the Blue Scout, the Man of Steel swooped onto the shrieking toddler before anyone could even draw the breath to speak, bundling him up into his arms and smiling like a new father faced with the bawling, wrinkled mass of his first born child.
They didn’t even get a chance to explain what had happened before the shrieks of indignation were shrieks of laughter, chubby little hands grabbing at the billowing cape and dark, curled hair.
“Are they-?”
Robin elbowed Wally in the side. “Shut up,” he hissed. “He’s happy. He’s stopped screaming bloody murder.”
Far from the unhappy, wailing child they had brought back from mission, Superboy was laughing and giggling as Superman threw him in the air and caught him again, throwing him much higher than most of the assembled group were comfortable with a man throwing a toddler, even if a fall wouldn’t hurt said toddler.
“Superman,” Black Canary asked slowly. “You do realise that’s Superboy?”
“Of course,” he sighed, laughing as he caught Superboy again and spun him in a circle to make him shriek and wave his arms. “He’s perfect.”
“Perfect,” Artemis echoed.
“Perfect,” Superman said again. “Look at that smile. I bet someone wants some ice cream and mustard, doesn’t he?”
“Ew,” Wally groaned. “Ice cream and mustard?”
Superman strode by them, still carrying the toddler on one hip, reluctant to put him down. He got out a bowl and raided their kitchen, scooping out some ice cream and then adding seeded mustard over the top. He sat down in an armchair, Superboy in his lap and started spoon feeding him the mix.
The team stood about, watching the scene with a mix of shock, awe and horror.
Black Canary tried again, approaching the table and sitting down. “I’m guessing this is a Kryptonian thing, then? Kal-El?”
Superman looked up at her after a moment. “Just look at his hands! They’re perfect, just... tiny. So tiny. But they’re perfectly made.”
“Robin,” she called over. “Would you please contact Batman? I’m not sure I can cope with him like this, bubbling about a baby.”
“Yeah, ‘cause Bats is a role model of normal parental behaviour,” Robin drawled.
“They’re best friends. Best friends deal with this. I don’t.”
Superman was pulling funny face at Superboy, encouraging him to eat up.
Robin nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay. Fair enough.”
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Superman, Kal-El as Black Canary kept using now, held onto Superboy as Batman ran what scanners they had over him, checking against results in the computer. Kal-El hadn’t stopped grinning yet, cradling the boy protectively and brushing a finger down his cheek gently, repeatedly.
“He’s healthy,” Batman finally announced. “For a Kryptonian. Some sunlight wouldn’t hurt, but we don’t want him up and active when he’s just quieted down.”
“I can take him home, then,” Superman asked.
“Home... to Metropolis, to Clark Kent’s apartment?” There was no one but them and Robin by now, so the cowl came off. “Clark-”
“He’s my son,” Clark growled.
“You certainly didn’t think so twelve hours ago,” Bruce countered. “And what are you going to do while you’re at work? Take him with you to the Daily Planet?”
Clark hesitated, looking down on the boy. “This is different. He’s helpless. Alone. Mine.”
Bruce took that to mean it was a Kryptonian thing as Dinah had suggested. He sat down next to Clark, barely noting Dick scramble to perch on the arm of the chair like a brightly coloured gargoyle. “Do you know how to look after a toddler?”
“Not really,” he conceded. “But I can do this better than anyone else. I know what he needs.”
“And when you have to work?”
Kal-El looked down at the child, stroking his hair softly. “I’ll.... take some sick leave. And holiday leave. Not like I ever use them for being sick.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea, Clark,” Bruce counselled quietly.
“You don’t have to be,” he replied with a soft, tender smile at the sleeping toddler. “I am.”
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And yeah, Bruce is worried about what happens when/if they fix it and things get really awkward.
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Probably the first.
BUT FOR NOW HE'S SUCH A GOOD DADDY! Even if he's not thinking very clearly...! Conner's a lucky baby atm.
Clark, you should spend you sick leave in Smallville, your parents could help. *poke poke poke*
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