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"I don’t think you’re going to make it to a year.” Clark mumbles.
J’onn groans and shifts. Clark’s hand traces patterns on his swollen belly.
“I don’t think you can get much bigger.”
J’onn pins him with a hard, luminescent orange stare.
Clark smiles apologetically. “Sorry. You look amazing.”
J’onn huffs and presses himself closer to Clark’s warm body. “Did I wake you?”
“Not really.”
“So yes. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no. How many times do I have to tell you to wake me up if you can’t sleep?”
“You need your rest.”
“So do you. You’re doing all the work.”
J’onn sighs. He tucks his head into the crook of Clark’s neck, suddenly overwhelmed by weariness. It’s been months since he’s had a restful night, between the fatigue and nausea of the early pregnancy, and his current swollen form keeping him from getting comfortable. Clark is right, he is big. Far bigger than the average Martian pregnancy, though among humans it seems more common to reach this size. That knowledge is not much of a comfort.
“Is there anything I can do?” Clark asks.
“Go back to sleep.”
“What about you?”
“I shall try to rest too.”
That seems to mollify Clark. He spoons up against J’onn’s back, cradling his belly. Within moments, his breathing evens out and deepens. It takes J’onn longer to drift off, but Clark’s comforting warmth soothes away his aches.
The Kents’ Christmas Eve routine is easy for J’onn to fall into. He and Martha work on the dinner while Clark and Jonathan stock up on fire wood and finish as much of the chores as they can. The Kents have always had their dinner on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas Day so they don’t have to spend it cooking.
J’onn is well used to this by now, but he had underestimated how trying it would be in his current state. Aches ring throughout his body. Martha tries to encourage him to sit, but staying still for a moment too long makes everything worse. Martha has the patience of saint and lets him channel his restlessness into fetching whatever she needs around the kitchen.He wishes he could help more, but the need to move is too great.
“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Martha asks lightly.
J’onn nods. “I am very uncomfortable, but it’s to be expected.”
A sympathetic look settles over her face as she eyes his belly. He’s wearing the jumper she gave him his first Christmas with them. Then it had been slightly too big, but now it stretches comfortably over his gravid middle.
“Do you really have two months left?”
J’onn sighs. “Perhaps not. There’s no way to tell.”
Something thuds gently against his stomach. He smiles and takes Martha’s hand, placing it on his belly. The baby kicks again, more strongly this time. Martha gasps in delight. “Oh, J’onn. How wonderful.”
He smiles. It’s still almost impossible for him to believe his baby is still healthy. The pregnancy had been a complete accident; J’onn had had no idea idea that his body would instinctively use Clark’s genetic material to procreate. It has been so long since his last pregnancy, and Clark isn’t even a Martian. Coupled with the fact that J’onn has more or less had to be his own doctor, as he never thought to educate anyone on Martian obstetrics and there’s precious little information on Kryptonian childbearing, J’onn has no idea how he’s made it to this point.
“It’s strong.” He says. A wave of exhaustion washes over him and he grips the countertop for stability. Martha of course immediately takes notice. Taking him by the arm, she steers him into the living room and helps him sit down on an arm chair.
“You sit and rest for a while,” she says, “I’ll finish up in the kitchen.”
J’onn wants to protest but he can’t summon the energy. Instead, he pulls a throw blanket over himself and dozes. He isn’t quite asleep but he certainly isn’t aware. He doesn’t even register that Clark is home until his hand is on his shoulder.
“Mm?”
Clark laughs. There’s snow in his hair. “Hey. How’re you feeling?”
“Tired. But that isn’t anything new.”
Clark presses a kiss to J’onn’s forehead. J’onn smiles, leaning into Clark’s touch. He takes Clark’s hand and presses it to his belly. The baby gives a firm kick. Clark’s face lights up.
“Hey there. Oh, wow.”
It’s far from the first time Clark has felt the baby move, but he never loses the joy of it.
“It’s quite active today.” J’onn says.
“That’s good. You rest up.”
“Clark! Are you going to help me with all this wood or not?”
“Coming, Pa!” Clark calls. He kisses J’onn and then hurries out to help his father. J’onn smiles, resting his head on the back of the chair. He cradles his belly, feeling the restless movements of his baby. The Kents’ emotions envelope him in a bubble of warmth and love. He’s beyond grateful that this is the home he’s bringing his baby into.
Clark and Jonathan coming back into the living room, Clark carrying a stack of wood. They arrange it all beside the fireplace. As Jonathan lights a fire, Clark perches on the arm of J’onn’s chair.
“Hey, J’onn,” Jonathan says cheerfully, “How’re you and the little bean doing?”
“We are fine.” J’onn says. A sharp kick jabs his back and he winces. “We’re just having a minor disagreement on if it’s time for rest or not.”
Jonathan laughs. “That sounds like Clark’s kid, alright.”
Clark grins sheepishly. “Sorry, J’onn.”
“It’s alright.” J’onn says, leaning against Clark’s side.
“Dinner’s ready!” Martha calls from the kitchen.
Clark helps J’onn to his feet and leads him to the dining table. J’onn smiles wryly as Clark helps him sit.
“I’m not an invalid, Clark.”
“I know, but you’re going through a lot. Let me fuss.”
“Consider it a Christmas gift.” J’onn says.
Clark laughs. “I love you, you know that.”
“You may have mentioned it once or twice.”
“Clark, stop teasing J’onn and help us set the table.” Martha chastises.
Clark ducks his head and hurries to grab a plate. J’onn makes to get up, but Martha puts a hand on his shoulder to keep him down.
“No, no. You stay put.”
J’onn frowns. “I’m sorry I haven’t been more help.”
“Nonsense. You’ve got your own work to do.”
J’onn nods. He watches the Kents bustle around the room setting the table. Finally Martha is satisfied and they sit down to eat.
“I’ve given you smaller portions, J’onn,” Martha says, “But if you want more, don’t hesitate.”
“Thank you, Martha. This is fine.” J’onn says. As a Martian, he never needs to eat large quantities at once. It’s always been a struggle for the Kents and their feeding tendencies to see him with less on his plate, especially since his pregnancy. He lets the Kents’ chatter wash over him as he eats. The meal is delicious- everything Martha makes is. It’s exactly the right amount, too. Once he never would have thought humans would be so wonderfully welcoming.
When the meal is finished, J’onn is once again told to sit back and relax while the Kents clean up. Jonathan makes them all a mug of hot chocolate. J’onn’s clearly has extra marshmallows in. He says nothing about it. Clark is beside him. J’onn leans his head against his shoulder. Clark’s arm is a comfortable warmth around J’onn’s waist. His fingers slip under J’onn’s jumper and trace patterns on his belly. The baby squirms but doesn’t kick. As much as J’onn loves the feeling of his baby moving, he is grateful for a reprieve. He finishes his drink and lets himself sink closer into Clark’s side. Clark laughs quietly.
“I think it’s time we turned in.”
“Of course dear. Good night, boys.” Martha says.
“Sleep well.” Jonathan adds.
“Thank you for the meal.” J’onn mumbles wearily. He grunts as Clark helps him up.
Aches pulse up his back. He rubs at them futilely as he and Clark climb the stairs. The stairs take a lot of effort. The baby had dropped a few days before and it sits low and heavy in his belly.
“You’re really shattered, aren’t you?” Clark asks softly.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me.”
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re doing something no one else has ever done before. It’s okay to be tired.”
The reach their bedroom. J’onn eases himself onto the bed. “Neither of my pregnancies have ever been like this.”
Clark sits beside him and puts an arm around him. “What were they like?”
J’onn smiles wistfully. “Kh’ym, my eldest, never stopped moving. I couldn’t stay still when I was carrying her. My son was the opposite. T’arin barely moved. We thought- we thought we’d lost him at one point.”
His voice cracks. He remembers the fear and devastation too well. Clark squeezes his hand. J’onn swallows and continues, “He was calm and cautious out of the womb too. Kh’ym used to try and blame her mischief on him and never understood why we never fell for it.”
She never will.
J’onn buries his head in Clark’s shoulder. Clark wraps him tightly in his arms. They stay like that for a long while, but eventually, the grief loosens its hold on J’onn’s heart.
“We should sleep now.” He murmurs.
“Alright.” Clark agrees.
Quietly they change out their clothes and J’onn arranges his pillows for the evening. He settles amongst them, trying to get as comfortable as he can. Clark kisses his cheek and pulls the covers over them.
“Goodnight, J’onn.”
Goodnight Clark
The next morning, J’onn wakes to a violent cramp in his back. He breathes through it with gritted teeth, squeezing the closest pillow. It dissipates quickly, but doesn’t entirely vanish. He has no idea what that means, but he has a very bad feeling about it.
At his side, Clark stirs. J’onn schools his features and watches Clark wake. Clark’s blink open slowly. Then he breaks into a wide smile and kisses J’onn excitedly.
“Merry Christmas, J’onn.”
J’onn smiles. “Merry Christmas, Clark.”
With that Clark flies out of bed and pulls his dressing gown with super speed. J’onn shakes his in exasperation as he slowly sits up and swings his legs over the bed. Only minimally ashamed, Clark helps him to stand and leads him downstairs by the hand. J’onn hopes their baby has Clark’s joy and enthusiasm.
As they patter downstairs, Jonathan and Martha appear from their room.
“You know Clark, I would have thought you’d let J’onn have a lie in.” Jonathan yawns.
“My apologies,” J’onn says, “But his love for Christmas far outweighs his love for me.”
“J’onn!” Clark protests, “It sounds so much worse like that.”
J’onn just grins. Clark shakes his head and leads the way to the living room. Under the Christmas tree, Jonathan and Martha have arranged all their accumulated gifts. J’onn, Martha and Jonathan sit down on the sofa, but Clark gets comfortable on the floor beside J’onn’s feet. He turns on the tree lights and starts handing out the presents.
“J’onn, you didn’t tell the league to wrap their presents in lead, did you?”
J’onn gives him a perfectly innocent look. “Of course not.”
Jonathan laughs and claps J’onn’s shoulder.
“Here. This one’s from Wally.” Clark says, passing the present to J’onn.
He squeezes it and slowly peels the paper away. Inside are three bundles of fabric. J’onn unrolls the smallest first. It’s a tiny jumper reading ‘Little Green Alien’. The other two bundles are also jumpers. One has a flying saucer hovering over a Christmas tree on the front. The other has snow covered hay bales surrounded by Christmas trees. Clark looks at them and snickers.
“Yeah, that’s from Wally alright.”
“Indeed.” J’onn says. He’s never really understood Wally’s humour, even with telepathy. Today especially , he’s too tired to try and piece it together. He just appreciates the effort.
Clark passes his parents some presents from their friends. J’onn’s focus slips as his back aches fiercely. He adjusts the pillow behind him as subtly as he can. He blinks back into awareness when Clark announces the next present is from John. This time he’s the one to open it.
“Huh. This is sweet. I wouldn’t have expected this from John.”
“What is it?” J’onn asks.
Clark hands it to him. “A scrap book.”
J’onn runs his hand over the navy cover and flicks through the cream coloured pages. “That is thoughtful.”
He hands it back to Clark to put in the opened pile. Jonathan and Martha open some more presents that J’onn struggles to pay attention to. From the rest of the league they get a small pile of blankets from Diana that are the softest material J’onn has ever felt, a bottle of alcohol from Shayera and a rattle that’s a miniature model of her mace and an envelope of cash and an incredibly high tech looking baby monitor from Bruce.
“You know, I don’t think Bruce has ever given me anything but cash.” Clark comments.
J’onn doesn’t reply. His belly has suddenly twisted in pain, sharper and more terrifying than anything he has ever felt before. If he unhinges his jaw, he will almost definitely scream.
“J’onn? J’onn?” Clark kneels in front of him and grabs his hand. J’onn clutches it hard. Jonathan puts a hand on his shoulder and Martha is frozen halfway to standing.
“Tell me what’s going on.” Clark says worriedly.
The pain loosens it’s grip. J’onn tries to get his breath back. His pelvis is heavy with the weight of the baby and he can few the tingling sensation that heralded the births of his children, that came with his body stretching open.
“I think,” he manages to say at last, “That the baby is coming sooner rather than later.”
Worry and excitement war on Clark’s face. “Okay. What do you need?”
“My nest. I need my nest.”
Clark nods. Carefully, he helps J’onn to his feet as if he’s made of glass. J’onn doesn’t have the energy to protest such treatment. Hastily Clark gathers up the opened presents as Martha pulls J’onn into a gentle hug.
“You. I- oh.” She struggles for words before hugging him again.
“Good luck.” Jonathan says, hugging J’onn too.
J’onn can’t find anything to say, but he leans into their touch in gratitude. Clark wraps an arm around his waist and Jonathan and Martha release him to Clark’s embrace.
“Come on. Lets get you upstairs.” Clark says. He presses a kiss to J’onn’s forehead.
Getting up the stairs is hard. Harder even than it has been recently. J’onn’s hips are stiff as they’re slowly being forced apart. They protest each step. J’onn grimaces. It’s only by Clark’s assistance that he makes it up to their room. Clark sets their gifts down on the bed and helps J’onn lower himself down onto the nest. J’onn had put the giant pile of blankets together when he moved In the Kent’s’ house after discovering his pregnancy for this very purpose. He sighs in relief as he gets comfortable. Clark sits down beside him, rubbing J’onn’s belly.
“How are you feeling?” He asks.
“Terrified.” J’onn replies.
“Me too. But you’re going to be fine. Our baby is going to be fine.”
“I hope so.”
Clark puts his arm around J’onn comfortingly. “So, how about you tell me what the nest is for?”
J’onn sees his attempt at distraction for what it is, but he goes along with it anyway. “It’s an old Martian tradition. It comes from a time when we travelled to the caves to give birth.”
Clark frowns. “Why would you give birth in a cave?”
“We had vicious sandstorms called blood winds. The caves were the safest shelter from them. The belief was that having our children there would bring the caves good fortune and make them safer. The tradition fell out of fashion after my grandparents were born. But we made nests in honour of the caves instead. It may be worthless now, but…”
“But it’s a piece of home.” Clark finishes.
J’onn nods.
“It’s okay. I understand.”
J’onn groans, snatching hold of Clark’s hand and clutching at his belly. Clark whispers platitudes into his ear that J’onn can’t hear over his own pained groan.
“This is a most unpleasant process.” He grumbles. He pulls away from Clark to heft himself onto his hands and knees. Clark rubs his back with sympathetic grimace.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry. I doubt that this is how you wanted to spend Christmas.”
“J’onn, no. You can’t exactly choose when this happens. And any time I spend with you is a gift.”
J’onn chuckles. “I believe that Flash would call that ‘corny’.”
“Corny’s my middle name.” Clark grins. He tilts J’onn’s head up to meet his lips. It’s an awkward angle but neither of them care.
Then J’onn bows his head under the next pain. He groans and Clark can see his muscles taut as steel cables through his jumper. He rubs his back, trying to soothe the tense muscles. J’onn shakes his head and struggles out of his clothes. Clark helps as best he can. J’onn feels between his legs and his eyes widen.
“What is it?” Clark asks.
“I’m more dilated than I thought.”
“Well, you’ve been out of sorts since yesterday. Maybe you were in labour and didn’t realise.”
“That seems likely. This whole pregnancy has been full of unexpected surprises.”
“I know.But it’s going to be over soon.”
“Then it will be a lifetime of unexpected surprises.”
“I’m looking forward to it though.”
“As am I.” J’onn smiles. Then he groans, using Clark’s shoulders to hoist himself onto his knees. Clark wraps his arms around J’onn’s back to keep him steady. J’onn muffles his long moan into Clark’s shoulder, small tremors running through his body. Even Clark’s optimism falters as J’onn shivers in his arms.
Don’t worry I will be fine J’onn sends telepathically.
Clark nods.
But his renewed faith doesn’t last long. The contractions come harder and faster and J’onn looks wrecked. He shifts position constantly but he can’t seem to fine one comfortable enough to stay in for longer than a few minutes. All Clark can do is help him move around and knead into his back. This sense of helplessness is such an alien feeling to him, but there is nothing he can do to make it better.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the Watchtower? Maybe they can do something for the pain.”
“No.” J’onn gasps out. He’s slumped against a mound of large pillows. He lifts his head to meet Clark’s eyes and Clark feels sick at how weak he’s become.
“Okay. We could get someone to bring some gear down.” Clark suggests.
J’onn shakes his head desperately and clutches at the front of Clark’s shirt. The pain is too overwhelming for him to speak. But through their mind link, Clark can sense J’onn’s feelings of wrong danger invasion must protect pain fear pain
Clark’s eyes glisten. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. We’ll manage by ourselves.”
Safe warm love thank you thank you
J’onn feels between his legs again. He pulls back with a grimace and his fingers come away sticky.
“What is it?” Clark asks.
“I appear to be leaking amniotic fluid.” J’onn mutters.
“Is that bad?”
“Martians are born in their sacks. But it should be fine. It is a most unpleasant sensation however.”
“Sorry.”
“I need to move.” J’onn says instead.
Clark nods and obediently helps J’onn back onto his hands and knees. His belly hangs low and Clark can’t help but cup it. J’onn’s skin is smooth and cool, unmarred by stretch marks thanks to his shape shifting abilities. J’onn grunts. Clark hastily yanks his hand away.
“Sorry.”
“No. It’s good, takes weight of my back.” J’onn mumbles.
“Okay.” Clark slides both hands around J’onn’s belly. J’onn lets out another sigh of relief. At least Clark can finally do something for J’onn.
But the relief is short lived. The next pain comes, wrenching a cry from J’onn’s lips. His whole body tenses and he growls through gritted teeth.
“J’onn?”
J’onn shakes his head. Every one of his muscles is coiled tightly.
“Talk to me, J’onn.”
“Pushing.” J’onn finally grits out. More fluid spills down his legs.
“Okay. You’ve got this. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
Anything J’onn is going to say is lost in his choked moan. He feels between his legs and makes a sound half way between a groan and a sob. Then he growls and tenses up. Clark knows he’s pushing again.
“Hey, steady on. You need to save your strength.”
J’onn shakes his head. Barely a moment after the pain ends, he’s pushing again desperately. He sobs. Then his skin shifts under Clark’s hand. J’onn whimpers. Then he screams. His skin ripples and twists.
“No.” J’onn croaks.
Clark has seen J’onn change form countless times. It’s never looked like this. It’s jerky and won’t settle until finally J’onn is left in his natural form. He looks down at his own long, spindly fingers and whimpers.
No, no, no
“J’onn, what’s wrong?” Clark cries.
J’onn pants breathlessly. His hoarse voice rings in Clark’s mind. The baby’s head is round. I can’t deliver it in this form. It’s coming too early. I can’t shapeshift
“J’onn I don’t understand.”
J’onn groans and sucks in a deep breath. There’s a hormone involved in my shape shifting. In the last few days of pregnancy, my body should produce more of it so I can deliver the baby easily by shifting around it without consciously trying. But my body isn’t ready for this labour. It’s not producing that hormone
Through their link, J’onn’s terror and dread seeps into Clark like cold vines. He tilts J’onn’s head up to meet his wide, hazy, terrified eyes.
The baby is stuck. I can’t get it out
Even psychically J’onn’s wrecked voice is barely a whisper. Then he screams again, loud and anguished. He bears down again clearly without meaning to. Clark can see that no progress is made. Sobbing, J’onn collapses onto his side. Clark feels sick. He has always loved J’onn’s natural form as much as any part of him, but his rounded belly looks wrong and absurd over his narrow waist and sharp hips.
“Can you still shape shift?” Clark asks. His voice cracks and tears trickle down his face.
J’onn gives him no reply. He’s curled around his belly, moaning in despair. A few Martian words slip into Clark’s mind. He thinks they’re prayers. Clark pats his cheek to get his attention.
“J’onn. Listen to me. Can you shape shift?”
Can’t focus hurts too much tired
“You can. You have to. Come on, you need to get up. Gravity is our friend.“
He hails J’onn back up onto his knees. J’onn is weak but he tries to help, leaning heavily against Clark’s chest.
“Now shift. You can do it. I believe in you.”
J’onn wails. His fingers dig into Clark’s back, not that Clark can feel it. He draws on every last ounce of strength and will power he has to force his hips wider. The baby’s huge head slides downwards. Screaming, he forces his hips further apart.
Catch
Clark’s hands hover tentatively around J’onn’s spread thighs. With his own hands shaking, he guides Clark to cup the baby’s head as it slowly emerges. J’onn howls silently as Clark’s strong hands guide the baby out.
The sudden lack of pain is dizzying. J’onn sways in place. Clark helps him lie down and then places a warm weight on his chest.
“You did it. You did it.” Clark gasps, wiping at his eyes.
The baby is still sticky with fluid, but he’s clearly a miniature Clark.
His skin is pink, wrinkled and still covered in clear fluids and J’onn’s own blood. His head is covered in dark fuzz and he screeches indignantly. There’s hardly any strength left in J’onn’s body, but he manages to cradle his son close.
You made it you’re going to be alright
“You did it, J’onn. You did it. He’s perfect.” Clark smiles. There are tears pouring down his face. He wraps one arm around J’onn’s shoulders and cradles his son’s head with his other hand.
J’onn smiles. The exhaustion is plain on his face, even without it seeping through their bond. I think I need to rest now don’t take him too far away I need his mind close
“Of course. Get some sleep. I’ll clean this little guy up and then you can have him right back.”
J’onn can only nod. He relinquishes the baby into Clark’s arms. The last dregs of his strength ebbs away. Between one moment and the next, he’s asleep.
Clark can barely see through his teary eyes. There’s a tiny lukewarm bath on his drawers Clark has filled earlier. He checks the temperature and carefully lowers the baby into it. He whimpers and then calms.
Clark chuckles wetly. “You’re pretty brave. Just like your dad.”
The baby’s eyes blink up at him. He has pupils and sclera but his eyes glow orange.
Clark grins. “Looks like that’s not all you get from him.”
He lifts the baby out of the bath and gently towels him dry. He swaddles him in one of Diana’s blanket and settles him back on J’onn’s chest. Still deeply asleep, J’onn sighs and relaxes.Clark nearly breaks. As quietly as he can he stumbles out Int the dark hallway, closing the door behind him. He buries his head in his hands.
“Clark?”
He jerks his head up. His parents are standing there, in their pyjamas, worry all over their faces.
“Ma, Pa. It’s late, what are still doing up?”
“We couldn’t sleep through all that.” Jonathan says quietly.
“Is- is J’onn alright?” Martha asks.
More tears course down Clark’s face. He sniffles and swipes at them futilely. “Yeah. He nearly wasn’t- he had to give birth in his natural form but the baby’s human shaped.”
Martha gasps.
“They’re okay. But-”
“But they nearly weren’t.” Jonathan finishes.
Clark nods. His parents pull him into a tight hug and he cries into their shoulders. All the stress, the fear and anxiety is finally expelled. J’onn is okay. Their son is okay. He doesn’t need to worry.His mother croons softly into his ear, stroking his hair like she did when he was a child. It still makes him feel as safe as it did then.
“Go to sleep, Clark,” Martha says, “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
Clark nods, smiling excitedly as the tears dry.
“Congratulations. You’ve done really well for yourself.” Jonathan says proudly.
“Thanks Pa. Thanks Ma. For everything you’ve done for me.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re our son, you don’t need to thank us for anything.”
Clark nods. He hugs his parents once more and then goes back into his bedroom. He lies down in the nest and tucks another one of Diana’s blankets around him and J’onn. Asleep as he is, J’onn doesn’t move, but he makes a contented noise. There’s a niggling fear when Clark lies down that they’ll crush the baby, but J’onn had assured him that this was how Martians had managed their babies. Clark has been sleeping beside J’onn for years, he reminds himself, and J’onn never moves an inch. He presses a kiss to J’onn’s forehead, takes his hand and closes his eyes.
A week later, each of the founding league members receives a think you note for their Christmas gifts. The note is signed Clark, J’onn and Matthew Jonathan. Enclosed is a photo. Clark and J’onn are sat in front of the Kent’s’ Christmas tree. J’onn is back in his humanoid form. Clark’s arm is around J’onn’s shoulders and in his arms is Matthew, gazing in awe at the Christmas lights. That picture is stuck on the first page of the Kent-J’onzz photo album, labelled ‘Our Christmas Miracle’.