Clark wakes before dawn. The chill of morning hits him, even with Kryptonian endurance, because he hasn’t slept well lately. The house is quiet. Sleeping curled in a crib nearby lies Nat, his baby boy. A soft, even breathing. Clark stands at the window, staring at the rising sun lighting up the fields—corn, golden; the wind moving the stalks gently. He breathes in. The scent is clean—earth, dew, promise.

He slips back, checks Nat’s blanket, smooths a curl of hair on the child’s forehead. “Morning, little one,” he says because even if Nat doesn’t wake, Clark feels the necessity. The first job of the day now: be father, before anything else.

He really tried to convince Diana to have a peaceful life with him on the farmhouse, but her people needed her, and she couldn't take Nat with him, however the brief relation he had with her had healed him enough to retake his life as Clark Kent, owner of the Kent farm, editor-in-chief of the new Daily Planet and a devoted single father for his little one.

Clark dresses himself up, prepares breakfast and some baby formula, after a couple of hours he flies from Smallville to Metropolis with Nat on his arms, the little kid extended his arms as they flew accross the buildings, Clark finally lands and enters the Daily Planet, leaving Nat on the Daycare "Have a good day, little teddy" he said affectionately to Nat who giggles and coos softly, only that adorable reaction is enough for Clark to carry on with his work, today on his 50's birthday.