stands_for_hope | The Double K Farm for At Risk Youth

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once upon a time on the kent farm

The Double K Farm for At Risk Youth - How it Starts

It had been a hard year for the Kents.

The loss of a father, a husband, had hollowed out mother and son, though thankfully they'd managed to make due on the farm between the both of them. But that was just the financial parts. The farm felt empty without Jonathon Kent, their home felt empty, and Clark...

Clark was so angry with everyone, with everything. It wasn't fair.

He could do so many things, so many things, but he hadn't been able to do anything when his father's heart had given out. He hadn't been able to do anything when Jonathon Kent had dropped dead in a field while Clark was at school. He'd just been there to get pulled into the office, take the phonecall from his mother.

It was doubly hard to go through his days now. Before, there'd been a bit of a barrier between the people who liked to tease him; Jonathon Kent had been respected and folks had looked out for Clark because of it. They still looked for him, but now it was more about sympathy and less of a willingness to put themselves between him and trouble.

That's why he was here. Twelve years old, pushed against a chain link fence, holding onto the fence pole for their sake as much as his own. Anger boiled up inside him, anger enough to make his eyes start to lighten to red, anger enough to make him want to do things he couldn't do, shouldn't do. Because people were mean and cruel and they picked on weakness like a pack of jackals, even if the weakness was feigned.

I can't do it. I can't hurt anyone.

It was like a screen door trying to hold back a tidal wave. He was shaking and his eyes were so hot. He just hoped he could hold on long enough for them to get bored. Long enough for someone to wander by. He just had to hold on.

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"Everybody eats with their elbows on the table sometimes," Martha said with a little smile. "And there's nothing wrong with that. As long as there's enough space at the table, of course."

Michael's eyes gleamed. "I can tell you've never met Devon Miles."

"Isn't he the guy who... uh." Mike looked awkward as he tried to find a way to say it - and failed. But Michael nodded anyway, knowing what Mike meant.

"Yeah, he is. But he meant well - even if he was a little greedy at the same time. Not to say that I completely forgive him," he cautioned, "but I'm not going to completely write him off, either."

"Did he do something wrong?" Clark asked.

Steve looked especially interested in that.

He took in a breath but... Well. It wouldn't hurt anything if they knew. "Yes and no," Michael finally said. "Which I know is a terrible answer, so let me explain.

"I didn't know about Mike up until... I don't know, about the last year and a half or so, right, buddy?"

Mike nodded.

"Right," Michael confirmed. "Well, the whole time I'd been working, Devon had been sending Mike's mom money in my name to help take care of him." He held up a finger. "Which I'm grateful for, don't get me wrong - but he never told me I had a son. When he finally did tell me, when I was ready to retire, we had a very serious talk about what he'd done, and he admitted to me that he'd been... selfish."

Michael sighed, shaking his head. "But I'm not sure that's the right word. Basically, he knew that if I knew I had a child, I would've probably quit the Foundation and did my best to make it right. I would've married his mom and raised him the best way I could, because I couldn't do that and still work for the Foundation.

"So Devon was selfish about wanting me to work for him. That's why he never told me. Now, I understand why he did it, but that doesn't make it okay. I would've wanted to be with Mike every moment I could've. And when I think about where he ended up without me, I get really mad. But..." An exhale and he reached over to ruffle his boy's hair.

Mike smiled and ducked.

"But at least I got to him now."

Clark leaned up and pressed a soft kiss on Mike's cheek, an apology that he'd been kept from his father even if Clark hadn't had anything to do with it.

"That's the important thing."

Martha nodded in agreement.

Steve looked far more skeptical and somewhat offended on Michael's part.

Michael reached over to nudge Steve gently. "I don't blame you for being upset. I am, too. But if I don't do anything but think about how upset I am about it, I won't be able to enjoy what I have now. Devon's... Well." He took a breath. "Devon has put running the Foundation before everything in his life for years. Since Wilton Knight died. And it's skewed his priorities pretty well," he admitted with a half-wince. "But that's part of what he and I talked about. I've not forgiven him yet, but I'm not going to let it get in the way, either."

And then, slowly smiling, he nodded toward Clark and Mike, where Mike was giving Clark a warm, sincere smile. "Seeing things like this and knowing it's possible now? That's more important than being mad."

"He should have trusted you," Steve said stubbornly. "It wasn't fair to you or to Mike."

"You're right," Michael nodded. "He should've trusted me. He should've let me know about my son. But it's still more important, now, for me to be with my son than it is for me to be angry at a man who thought he was doing the right thing."

"He can't go back into the past to fix it," Clark said gently, "so even if he was wrong, the only thing he can do is try and do his best not to repeat the mistake and make it up to Michael."

Steve was about to argue but Clark gave him a bit of a look. The two of them nonverbally wrestled on the point, arguments not really being made so much as being countered before Steve sighed and shrugged.

Bucky squeezed Steve's shoulder. "Think of it this way. At least the guy admitted what he did was wrong, which is more than the nuns will ever do."

"...Someday," Michael mused, watching them, "I'm going to know this whole nun story."

Steve tucked up against Bucky, the only one who could really get him to let go of a bone he was gnawing on for good or ill.

"Bucky used to be at an orphanage run by nuns."

Martha's face said exactly how she felt about those nuns.

Bucky nodded. "Catholic orphanage. Mean nuns."

"That's one part of a Catholic upbringing that I got to skip out on," Michael admitted.

But that was when Bucky looked at him and blinked as if it had only now occurred to him. "Do you go to Midnight Mass at Christmas?"

"When I can, yeah - I was planning to go this year." And then, working on a hunch, he asked, "Do you want to go?"

Bucky nodded, biting his lower lip. "Please."

Steve nodded firmly.

"We weren't sure there was a Catholic church anywhere around here. I've only seen Protestant ones."

"There's one a couple towns away," Michael nodded. "And I happen to have a really awesome car, so we can get there, no problem."

"Um." Mike pursed his lips. "Do I have to go?"

And Michael shook his head. "You don't have to. It's your choice, Mike. I'm not going to force you either way. Religion is very personal, and everyone's allowed to choose their own approach, in my opinion, whether that means being devout and going every week or never going or, like me, only going on the big holidays."

Steve looked over at Bucky with a bright smile. They could go to midnight mass for Christmas! His mother would be so happy. She hadn't found a place she could go for mass around the town.

Clark gave Mike's hand a little squeeze.

"I haven't found anything I like for religion, exactly. Some of the stuff that came with me has some symbols and stuff that I really like, but I haven't found anything around here that I really like."

Martha smiled a little and nodded to Clark.

"We did some research a couple of years ago to see if there was a religion that Clark liked. He hasn't found anything yet and that's just fine. It's just fine if he never finds something he likes. But if you ever want to look into it, we still have all the books."

Mike nodded. "I... I don't know. I'll think about it. Mom never did anything like church, but I did get accused of being Amish a lot." He shrugged. "I never really understood it..."

"Amish people don't use technology," Michael explained. "They believe it's a way of being worldly instead of reverent. I'm not an expert in it or anything, but I know that much."

"We have some Mennonites not too far from here in a little community if you'd ever like to see something similar," Martha offered, "and a few of them even show up to the market if you'd ever like to talk to one of them."

Clark nodded.

"One of the girls, Miss Leanna, she likes to buy Ma's strawberries and sometimes she brings a few candies she made with it to market to share with me too."

"Mennonites use more technology than the Amish," Michael put in. "They aren't quite as isolationist."

"Isolationist?"

"Isolationists like to keep to themselves. Amish tend to stay in Amish communities unless they're selling what they've made. Mennonites come out in public a little more often."

"I'll introduce you to Miss Leanna," Clark assured him. "She's really nice."

Mike nodded. "Okay." Because he trusted Clark. If he didn't they wouldn't have been dating.

Clark was about to lean over to kiss his cheek again (because he liked doing it quite a bit) when he cocked his head and tilted his ear towards the door.

"They're on the way in."

Bucky gave Steve a little nudge. "Get finished eating and I'll go get your sketchbook. You're gonna want it." He knew that. And a part of him thought for sure that he'd love Neala. The others... well, he'd find out.

"Well, yeah," Steve said with a shrug in between bites of pancakes, "I always want my sketchbook. I just didn't want it to get breakfast on it."

"I'll be right back." He squeezed Steve's shoulder, and then he was going up the stairs to fetch sketchbook and pencils - so Steve wouldn't have to worry about getting up and down and losing his breath.

Steve reached over to try and catch him but he'd been stuffing pancake in his face and he'd missed him. He made a grumbly noise and rolled his eyes a little.

Bucky needed to eat!

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