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Being surrounded by hundreds-if not thousands of people could be overwhelming-and well, Clark supposes super hearing and enhanced…everything didn’t help. Still, the rallies are something he enjoys. Being able see -to converse with the people he has dedicated so much time to is a wonderful thing, and he will never regret going to-or holding one.
Even if so many people make his head hurt.
Clark was talking to a quite-large group of small children. Some of them clung to their parents, or offered sticky-handed waves. A not-yet-school-aged little girl obsessed over touching his cape, while her older siblings talked over each other-all of them finding some over-excited topic to broach. Parents pulled children away, and in waves they seemed to find their way back. Clark found he had plenty of time for all of them.
And it was going well. Clark-in the moment at least was crouched over, talking to a gaggle of three elementary school kids. The eldest-a girl who couldn’t have been more than seven, was instigating her very own investigation into why Superman didn’t have to ask his mom if he could come to his own rally.
The three of them did not believe that his mother was happy to let him go. Apparently they were under the impression he was going to be grounded.
Still, he ended the conversation laughing. And then-a rather…rapid heartbeat seemed to pull itself out from the rest.
A boy, who-quite clearly couldn’t be much older than nine, was standing amongst another group of children, scarily ramrod straight. In fact, he was sure that he would have noticed him, even without such a racing heart-everything from his positioning, his expression-even the way the other children parted around him was…not right.
Something about this wasn’t right.
Still, Clark found himself unwillingly surrounded by both adults and children who refused him the real chance to get any information towards what was wrong.
By the time Clark had escaped a very repetitive conversation with a toddler, the boy had disappeared.
At least…he had thought he had. He didn't see so much of another glimpse of the young man until after the rally itself had ended-and by then the racing heartbeat had rounded off, and disappeared amongst the over-excited crowd. Clark had fled the rally, like he almost always did at the end, stopping shortly in an alleyway to check the missed messages on his cellphone.
And then the kid showed up. He was…certainly less stressed than he had been when he was standing amongst the fringes of the crowd. This time, he held a note.
“Uh….hello.” The boy, whoever he was, didn’t reply. Awkwardness seemed to really sink into the rotten alleyway air. “What's your name?” The boy’s eyes shifted to the side, before settling at Clark’s feet. “What’s that in your hand?” He bit his lip momentarily.
“Some…some guy-from…my town told me to give you this.” He raised the somewhat-stained piece of notebook paper towards him, frowning as he did so. Clark took it, looking down at the crumpled pieces of paper. Within the worn paper was a messy, almost illegible scrawl declaring nothing but ‘ tonight ’ and ‘ The roof of the mall’ .
It wasn’t a paper Clark would have liked to receive from anyone. Much less ‘Some guy’.
“Thank you for bringing me this.”
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Even as Superman, something about the ominous glowing symbol bursting from the other man’s chest was ominous.
His vision reveals that the man looming on the other side of the roof has no weapons, and possibly even worse, no skeleton, and as far as a heart rate goes, he does not have one either. Instead there is a steady crackle of electricity buzzing in the man's veins.
The symbol is both accurate, and bone chilling. The hairs on the back of Clark's neck stand up as the being steps forwards, the light of the man's chest leaving an uncomfortable shading to his face.
"I'm sorry about the greeting. I didn't know how else to reach you." Sending a child to corner him in an alley was a hell of a way to greet someone-and well, sending frightened, easily hurt children to do a man's job is a pretty good judge of character.
"You could have come to me yourself." The man started towards him, a frown on his face. "This is awfully ominous." They stared at each other, tense silence filling the air. There was no rise to his shoulders as he stood there, grimacing at the air between them. Clark mentally prepared himself for a fight. Where were the closest civillains? He wasn’t human-and, as he watched the man fail to breathe, listened to his crackle, and found he might not even be alive.
“I’d like to clear some things up. Here-I’m Captain…Marvel.” The man closed their distance rather quickly, holding out a hand for Clark to take-and well, Clark was raised to be polite. Even when he wasn’t quite comfortable. The handshake was short-curt, and uncomfortable as electricity burned under his hand. “And I need to ask a favor of you.” Clark…hadn’t expected that. “There’s this boy-Freddy, he lives in my town.” So that was the boy's name. “He’s disabled-walks with a crutch-” not that kid then. “-and he’s had quite an issue with… bullies .” The man said ‘bullies’ like a swear, visibly gritting his teeth. “He asked me to eat lunch with him-he’d thought it would make them want to leave him be, and I ended up missing out. Now it’s gotten worse. I was wondering if you’d like to get lunch. Maybe double down with me.”
“You’re…serious?” The man-Captain Marvel nodded.
“He’s a huge fan-and well, all of the…children are. I thought I might as well ask.” Clark stared at him, maybe a little too intensely.
“You’re asking me on a lunch date?”
“No. I’m asking you to help me stick it to the boys who hit my friend with a truck.” Clark nodded.
“Which school?”
“Fawcett elementary, eleven-twenty-five, although-usually the class is a little late to dismiss.” A part of Clark was…mostly concerned on how much this man who called an elementary schooler his ‘friend’ knew about exact dismissal time. A much more rational part of him was concerned over how two people old enough to drive a truck were getting away with running over an elementary schooler.
‘Why don’t you tell me more about…Freddy?”