A Pair of Glasses
Disclaimer: I do not own Superman or anything affiliated with it. Except for a wall calendar I bought at Rite-Aid. And two seasons of Smallville. But other than that, nothing.
A/N: Yet another oneshot I have written, this one deals with Clark's thought on his disguise and secret identity. Its very broody, and was just a little idea that stuck with me as I did my homework.
A pair of glasses.
A hairstyle. Posture. Clothes. Mannerisms. Most of all, a pair of glasses.
This is what separates me from the other me. The shy me from the outgoing me. These small, though not insignificant, details are what is keeping the charade up, is what is keeping the secret from the whole entire world.
Its funny, I never thought it could work. I always thought that right away, someone would realize that the man behind the glasses is the same as the man in the cape. I guess I give too much credit to the human race. Either that, or not enough credit to myself.
To be fair, I haven't exactly led them on to the idea of me being two different people. As the internationally known savior, I don't wear a mask or anything that might cause people to assume that I am another person, that I have a day job at the Daily Planet. As the mild-mannered reporter, I wear a simple pair of glasses- bulky, but simple- that serve as my disguise.
It is a hard life, to live every day wondering "Do they know? Do they know I'm Superman? Do they know I'm Clark Kent? Will someone find out? Will anyone find out?" Some days I just wish that everyone knew, and that I wouldn't have to keep up this illusion any longer.
Most days, though, I don't.
I cannot even have a friend, a good friend, because of my enemies. In fear that my enemies will learn of them, and use them against me- torture them, or kill them. The few that I love, that I let in, albeit how little- Mom, Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen- they are forever in danger lest someone finds out who is the man behind the glasses.
But a pair of glasses is the small, but strong, wall that keeps me away from my crush, my love, Lois Lane. And although she loves me, she does not love the whole me, the me with the goofy smile, the me with meek persona and the mild mannerisms, the me with the glasses along with the me with the cape. She never will, unless I tell her. And for this, I am alone.
Love is a hard thing to ignore- it never knocks once then leaves, it is a small child on Halloween ringing the doorbell incessantly to get candy, it is a political campaigner calling you in the months before the election. However much I wish that I'm not, however much I wish that I could follow my father's instructions and not love one human more than another, I cannot. Lois, Lois is my love. And for this, I am forever punished with the fear of something terrible happening to her. Love, even more powerful than I, can greatly influence actions and decisions.
Love is what prompts me to do this.
Today, I have decided, that I will finally take off the mask. To finally not be alone. To show the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life with who I really am. I will show her what is behind the glasses, the hairstyle, the posture, the clothes, the mannerisms.
Most of all, the pair of glasses.