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He wasn't close to the Captain. And why would he be? They strictly met over league meetings, both of them much too busy to…hang around. They were colleagues, not friends, and that was perfectly respectable. Clark had a city-a world to defend-as did Captain Marvel. They both-presumably had a secret identity to uphold.
That didn't leave time for fun and games off planet.
The only thing he had done that even hinted at him so much as finding time for fun and games had been when he had asked him to meet that child for lunch-and he had implored Clark into it with the same overly matured attitude he had held since he met him.
For God's sake-the Captain spent less time up here than he did. He was interested in being a member of the justice league, and nothing further, and Clark had to respect professionality. He was reliable when called-just not interested in unnecessary contact, or pleasantries. For someone who-Clark assumed to be a possibly immortal being-he was professional, and he could-would respect that, even if he would prefer some friendly small talk from now and then.
Even if said past professionality left Clark completely unprepared for the Captain coming to speak with him.
He had been in the midst of wrapping up after a meeting with Dianna-really just cleaning up after himself, when the Captain had approached him from behind the lounging couch. Clark had thought-maybe in the moment, that he had been looking for a zeta tube he hadn't used yet-or possibly Batman. The man had been elusive, as usual.
By the time he had finished picking up their left over papers, and other…necessities, Captain Marvel was still there. Although, by then he had begun to shift from foot to foot, twisting his fingers as the usual crackle of electricity he had instead of a pulse, turned into a much more static hiss. Maybe he was hoping he'd leave the living room before he had to ask. Maybe he had plans with one of the other league members, who he secretly shared company with.
Superman would leave him to the living room then. He wasn't particularly busy-but he knew how main room 'hangouts' tended to swing, and right now he'd rather work on something productive.
"Uh-Superman-?" Turning away from his exit, he found that the larger hero had found a way to look utterly unheroic under the doorframe. "I was-uh-can I like…can we talk?" Clark took a look around the empty lounge-no, almost empty watchtower. Somewhere across the watchtower, the microwave went off.
"I'm sure I could find the time." All he had left to do as of now was go home to sleep, maybe look over his assignment details for a thirty fourth time. He's sure he could put that off.
"Well-no. You don't have to-we don't have to talk-it's not really important." Captain Marvel shook his head. "You don't have to put off anything important."
"My teammates are important, Captain." He pressed his lips together, as if he had to think about Clark's claim as he leaned against the wall. The nervous crackle of static did not go away. "Is there something on your mind?" There was an awkward, perhaps even prolonged beat of silence between them as the Captain obviously stewed, before he seemed to gather himself to nod.
"There's just something I want to talk about-and I don't know who to talk about it with." Captain Marvel shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't care, while simultaneously sounding as if whatever the topic was, had been eating him alive. "It's…weird-and I don't know what to do about it."
"I can listen, even if I can't help." The silence stood between the two men for a moment. "I've got time." There was a part of Clark that was desperate to know what exactly had the usually visually upbeat hero so…off. Even if he couldn't help him with whatever extrapolating issue he was dealing with, he could offer an ear.
"Yeah. Okay."
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The Captain's room was smaller than his own. Less personal than his own sparse necessities, like more of a generic hotel then a room in the watchtower. He'd never been in there before, and if the keypad hadn't engaged with his fingerprints, Clark might have been able to imagine that he hadn't either.
Despite that, Captain Marvel and himself sat on the edge of the made bed, the disruption of the Wayne comforters being the only sign that anyone had been into the room so far.
Maybe he didn't sleep.
For someone who might never sleep, the Captain had begun to look far past exhausted.
"This is stupid."
"Would you have really brought me all the way in here if it was stupid?" The other hero rubbed his hand over his mouth, staring partially past the far wall.
The silence in the room was heavy, even for colleagues.
"You don't get scared, do you?" He had to blink at that. Captain Marvel turned to him, apparently taking the confusion on his face for something to defend himself from. "I know it's stupid-it-stupid question. I know you don't. You're Superman." Clark Kent had been, and has been scared of many different things, Superman be damned. And just as he'd gone to open his mouth to refute the Captain's idea, he got cut off. "I'm just-I don't know."
"You don't know what?" Captain Marvel, mysterious as ever, seemed to bite his own tongue. "Capitan?"
"I'm scared, and I know I shouldn't be-I just don't know how to make it go away." Clark wasn't sure how old the Captain was-or how long he'd been a hero for, but some part of him guessed that it wasn't for very long.
"I get scared of things. Some more than others. I don't think you can make it go away. You've got to deal with your fear head on Captain." Otherwise it will drag them down. He's sure it's happened. It almost happened to him. "What are you scared of?"
The pair looked at each other for far longer than comfortable, neither moving much.
"When I was…" Captain Marvel started at him for a moment, "...younger, I went to one of your rally things-the things you do with all the kids, and the people, and the crowd was huge." He had quite a following. "And I hate crowds, and there were too many people, and…I didn't like it-I wasn't really even into heroes." The man watched Clark's face for a moment, as if he thought he would find something to defend himself from, before hazardously moving forward. "But, I still felt safe there. I thought that-surely nothing bad could happen to me because you were there. You were there, and even if some weirdos with guns showed up, you'd protect me somehow." Clark, who was now seriously wondering how old Captain Marvel really was nodded. "I want to be that for someone else. People deserve to feel safe."
So that's what this was about.
"Captain, you keep Fawcett safe. I'm sure if you hosted something the whole town would show." Clark clapped the other man on the shoulder. "You make people feel safe."
"I shouldn't." The man shook his head. "I-I don't know how to be safe for people Superman. I-I barely even know what safe is." Under Clark's imploring expression, the other man continued into his ramble. "I-I wasn't always like…this-I didn't grow up safe. I-I have safe people-and places now but-I just-what if…this-what if I stop being safe?" Clark wasn't going to rush into the 'growing up safe' aspect of this conversation. He should.
But he can't. He wouldn't know what that's like at all, and relating to him by force would be like comparing fresh apples to sour grapes. So he's not going to try to.
"You want to know what's going to happen if you turn sides?" Captain Marvel swallowed, shaking his head.
"No-I just-I-what if I lose my safe people-or-or what if I can't help myself. I can't be defenseless again Superman-I don't want to risk it. I don't want to stop being safe. I don't want to stop being this. I need everyone to be safe-and I'm scared I can't do that." Captain Marvel, the man Clark had passed acknowledging nods to in the meeting room, and the zeta tubes, seemed as if he was about to cry. And Clark wasn't sure he knew what to do.
"Sometimes things from our past can…affect us-but trust me Captain, you're a good hero. A bad childhood isn't going to change that." Clark made sure to look the man in the eyes. "You are capable. You're a member of the Justice League."
"I could squash some dudes head like a grape-or-or get shot in the eye, and laugh-and I'm still scared. I-I can't lose this. I need to stay like this-what if-if I don't have enough time, and I get hurt-or something happens to them-or I'm vulnerable again? I can't let that happen-"
"That's what we're here for. If you need help-the Justice League will help you. I will help you. If something bad happens-we will be there if you need us. That's what we do." The other hero-the watery eyes hero-stared him down, as if somehow the next words out of his mouth would provide a solution to some other dilemma. "It's alright to be scared-or vulnerable, Captain. All you need to do is ask for help, and we'll give it to you. It's not all on you." The Captain took a deep breath, taking a few moments himself to get under control.
"Thank you. I think I needed to hear that."
"I think I needed to say it." There was an awful beat of silence between them once again. "If you ever need to talk-i've at least got an ear for you, Captain."
"Nh. You can call me Billy." Definitely sounded like a fake name. But it was, somehow, a name.
"Alright Billy. You can call me Clark." Captain-Billy nodded. Twisting his fingers together as he looked at the Wayne industries flavored painting hung on the wall.
"Do you…uh…do you like cookies…Clark? I hid some from Flash in my nightstand." Clark couldn't help but laugh. After all that, Billy was the one offering him food. Cookies, nonetheless. What was he? A kid? Clark had no idea what exactly he was, or what his life had been like, bit he hadn't expected the outcome to be sweet hoarding.
"You do not."
"Yeah," Billy leaned impossibly far over, pulling the bottom drawer of the sleek nightstand open, revealing several packages inside. "I do." Clark shook his head-half-smiling.
"How old are you?" Billy darted his eyes back and forth, frowning, before settling on Clark's face.
"Uh…eleven?" Now Clark couldn't help but truly laugh at that.