Ficlet: Just a Man in a Costume | DCU/SR | Clark Kent | PG | 1/1
Title: Just a Man in a Costume
Fandom: DCU/Superman Returns
Character: Clark Kent
Rating: PG
Word Count: 685
Prompt: For the 2009 Planet October Fic Grab: Mask; For bradygirl_12's 2009 DCU Fic/Art Halloween Challenge: black & orange, jack-o-lanterns, trick-or-treating, apples, & many more; For the 2009 DCU Free For All Autumn Challenge: Trick-or-Treating, Costumes
Summary: Watching Metropolis on Halloween evening, Clark thinks deep thoughts about his life's choices.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: Existential angst ahead!! Also, this is another fic from me that isn't part of any particular 'verse. Aren't you all glad? :p
Just a Man in a Costume
Hovering high above Metropolis, Clark watched the city come alive with children and costumes and mischief on Halloween evening, the sun setting far to the west and the sky darkening around him. Soon the stars would be out, and orange and black light would take over far below, parties in full swing and kids heading door to door.
He wished he could be down there among them, escorting his son from house to house as Jason made his way up one street and back, through the sprawling neighborhood that Lois and Richard had chosen for their family when Clark was still a year from reaching the graveyard that had once been Krypton. But it wasn't his job. No, Jason had a father, one that could be there for him every day, that could take him Trick-or-Treating without having to keep an ear open and tuned to a news station. One that even now was with him, escorting their little boy up the next driveway, the father and son dressed in matching costumes as Harry and James Potter.
Tearing his attention away from the sight that had his heart in a vice, Clark took a deep breath of crisp autumn air, the scents of pumpkin, caramel, and apples wafting up to him from the city's annual Halloween Carnival in Centennial park. The aromas reminded him of Halloween in Smallville, so many baked goods and other treats, his Ma's apple pie and cider.
He missed it.
But that's what he got for choosing a life of service to the world. No time to devote to leading a real life, no place that he truly fit in, no family to come home to at the end of the day. In many ways, he felt like one of the children at the fair, hiding behind a mask, anonymous, his true identity only known to himself and his mother. He was a phantom, a ghost of a person, not real, not whole, living only the barest excuse for a life while the rest of the world saw only the costume.
And it wasn't just the suit and cape, hiding him in plain sight even with his face completely uncovered. No, it was every bit as much the persona he wore every day, at the Planet, on the street, with Lois. 'Clark', as she knew him, was a bumbling loser, still a fresh-from-the-farm hayseed with no sense of the evil that the world could unleash.
It was practically laughable. That a pair of nerdy glasses, an ill-fitting suit, and a bright-eyed, innocent demeanor could serve as a mask so thick was simply ridiculous.
He couldn't help but wonder if Lois would ever see the man behind the mask. If he might ever get to be the one to take his son Trick-or-Treating. If there was a day in his future when he would have that family to come home to, a normal life free from his masks.
Maybe someday.
But there was no use in brooding over it all; that was Bruce's job, and the man did it well. Clark didn't have to hang in the sky, watching and wondering. Not with the Halloween Carnival well underway, children's laughter floating up to him with the wonderful scents of all the treats and the fun, spooky music filling the air.
Perhaps there was a good use for this particular mask on this particular night, after all.
Descending from his perch and shaking off the bout of melancholy that had briefly taken him over, Clark landed far out of sight behind a thick line of trees, and walked into the Carnival, paying the entrance fee at the ticket booth from the small amount of cash he kept stowed in his hidden pocket. There were pumpkins to be carved, treats to be eaten, costume contests to watch, and fortune tellers waiting to read his cards and his palm. Here, maybe he could be the real Clark for once, just a man in a costume, nothing more, nothing less. And if he was lucky, he might even enjoy himself.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: DCU/Superman Returns
Character: Clark Kent
Rating: PG
Word Count: 685
Prompt: For the 2009 Planet October Fic Grab: Mask; For bradygirl_12's 2009 DCU Fic/Art Halloween Challenge: black & orange, jack-o-lanterns, trick-or-treating, apples, & many more; For the 2009 DCU Free For All Autumn Challenge: Trick-or-Treating, Costumes
Summary: Watching Metropolis on Halloween evening, Clark thinks deep thoughts about his life's choices.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: Existential angst ahead!! Also, this is another fic from me that isn't part of any particular 'verse. Aren't you all glad? :p
Just a Man in a Costume
Hovering high above Metropolis, Clark watched the city come alive with children and costumes and mischief on Halloween evening, the sun setting far to the west and the sky darkening around him. Soon the stars would be out, and orange and black light would take over far below, parties in full swing and kids heading door to door.
He wished he could be down there among them, escorting his son from house to house as Jason made his way up one street and back, through the sprawling neighborhood that Lois and Richard had chosen for their family when Clark was still a year from reaching the graveyard that had once been Krypton. But it wasn't his job. No, Jason had a father, one that could be there for him every day, that could take him Trick-or-Treating without having to keep an ear open and tuned to a news station. One that even now was with him, escorting their little boy up the next driveway, the father and son dressed in matching costumes as Harry and James Potter.
Tearing his attention away from the sight that had his heart in a vice, Clark took a deep breath of crisp autumn air, the scents of pumpkin, caramel, and apples wafting up to him from the city's annual Halloween Carnival in Centennial park. The aromas reminded him of Halloween in Smallville, so many baked goods and other treats, his Ma's apple pie and cider.
He missed it.
But that's what he got for choosing a life of service to the world. No time to devote to leading a real life, no place that he truly fit in, no family to come home to at the end of the day. In many ways, he felt like one of the children at the fair, hiding behind a mask, anonymous, his true identity only known to himself and his mother. He was a phantom, a ghost of a person, not real, not whole, living only the barest excuse for a life while the rest of the world saw only the costume.
And it wasn't just the suit and cape, hiding him in plain sight even with his face completely uncovered. No, it was every bit as much the persona he wore every day, at the Planet, on the street, with Lois. 'Clark', as she knew him, was a bumbling loser, still a fresh-from-the-farm hayseed with no sense of the evil that the world could unleash.
It was practically laughable. That a pair of nerdy glasses, an ill-fitting suit, and a bright-eyed, innocent demeanor could serve as a mask so thick was simply ridiculous.
He couldn't help but wonder if Lois would ever see the man behind the mask. If he might ever get to be the one to take his son Trick-or-Treating. If there was a day in his future when he would have that family to come home to, a normal life free from his masks.
Maybe someday.
But there was no use in brooding over it all; that was Bruce's job, and the man did it well. Clark didn't have to hang in the sky, watching and wondering. Not with the Halloween Carnival well underway, children's laughter floating up to him with the wonderful scents of all the treats and the fun, spooky music filling the air.
Perhaps there was a good use for this particular mask on this particular night, after all.
Descending from his perch and shaking off the bout of melancholy that had briefly taken him over, Clark landed far out of sight behind a thick line of trees, and walked into the Carnival, paying the entrance fee at the ticket booth from the small amount of cash he kept stowed in his hidden pocket. There were pumpkins to be carved, treats to be eaten, costume contests to watch, and fortune tellers waiting to read his cards and his palm. Here, maybe he could be the real Clark for once, just a man in a costume, nothing more, nothing less. And if he was lucky, he might even enjoy himself.
~*~*~*~