Mood Indigo

"A little night music"

Metropolis – After Midnight

A cold, steady rain had been coming down for the last few hours. It soaked everything, washing away the layers of grit and grim accumulated over several days. The apartment's glass doors were opened out onto the tiny balcony. Fresh, damp air gently surged into the room. The frantic drumbeat of the rain hitting the concrete was a soundtrack for the night. Occasionally in the distance, the sound of a lone car splashing through the empty streets drifted through and then disappeared. It was easy to imagine you were the only one in this world tonight.

Clark lay with only a sheet over him, but sleep wouldn't come. The room was in darkness, the streetlight across the way casting teardrop shadows that slithered down the wall like if something out of a Salvador Dali painting. His mind was cluttered with so many thoughts, that seemed to spin and gain velocity the more he tried to sleep. He rolled onto his side, glancing out at the rain before closing his eyes again.

If he let his auditory range extend on nights like this he could almost hear it. The clutter was lessened and for brief flashes he thought he could make out the loneliness in the city. The other solitary individuals struggling in their isolation, yet their voices mute against the din. Those quiet, unfrequented souls were the ones that called to him on nights like this. Their despair felt palpable like an undercurrent no one wanted to acknowledge. The out of sight, out of mind denizens of the city that all the lofty plans seemed to have left out.

Those were the people he'd started out to be a champion for. He wanted to be a voice where they were voiceless. Yet now, five years into it, he realized they weren't isolated to just one city or even one country. He was beginning to understand the full weight of what it meant to be a champion and hero. Perhaps it was just in his nature, but he felt that weight keenly being placed on his broad shoulders.

They had taken the first steps at the meeting. They had talked, really talked for the first time about what it was they were created with the Justice League. They were all noble goals each of them spoke of, yet as he listen Clark realized changes were going to have to be made. It seemed they were just starting to glimpse what they might one day be able to accomplish, yet so many questions and changes remained in front of them. The biggest changes would have to come from him. Even standing in the background he still cast the largest shadow. At the few press conferences he attended, it was Arthur or Diana that spoke, yet he could feel every eye eventually drift over to the S on his chest.

At first he thought this was just out of curiosity. He was the alien amongst them. The fear was there, but more and more he was noticing something else. In every story about the League, his name was always first or second. He had always been the lightening rod, but now it seemed he was becoming the face of the League. How people saw him tended to influence how they saw the group. He didn't want the spotlight, yet it seemed to be finding him just the same. It appeared the role he was being cast into was the face and leader of the Justice League by the public at large.

He could deny it and fight it, but once people form an opinion it was very hard to change their minds. It was ironic really; the League already had its alphas, Arthur, Diana and Bruce. Each had a natural ability, almost ingrained in them for leadership. Yet in Bruce's case he was unwilling to be the face of the League or in Arthur and Diana's the public just didn't see them that way.

Clark believe Bruce was the real leader of the group, but the nature of who he was, the Batman, meant he always had to stay in the shadows. To step into the light meant to demystify the legend growing up around the Batman. In the light he was just an ordinary man, but in the shadows he could be so many things, a nightmare, a spirit of vengeance, the Dark Knight. The myth had become just as important to what he did as his considerable abilities.

The other two natural leaders faced different challenges. Arthur and Diana were viewed similarly by the public as royalty from some mythical realms. The public didn't know what to make of them. It seemed in many ways they were seen as more alien than the actual alien in the group. Atlantis was like a place out of a science fiction tale, while Themyscira was viewed more like a sort of ship in a bottle floating outside of time.

Perhaps in Diana's case it was just old biases and prejudices that also worked against her. She was the only woman in a group with six men. Alone she displayed all the traits that made her a leader, yet in the group they weren't seen as clearly. Questions would always persist behind her back over who was actually in charge. This would undermine her position as the face and leader of the League. Perhaps if the roster expanded to include more women those views would change.

Hal, Barry and Victor all had the potential to be leaders and on their own proved this time and time again. Hal was a Lantern though, so most just assumed his first allegiance was to the Guardians. The Lanterns were viewed as an alien army and police force. While humans might begrudgingly accept the idea of aliens, they didn't like the idea of Earth's heroes being led by a soldier in that alien force. For different reasons Barry and Victor seemed to naturally gravitate to the supporting roles within the League. Whether this was out of deference or youth, the larger personalities within the League seemed to overwhelm them at times.

That left one member, Superman. The very name seemed to imply his leadership. If he were truly a Super man among men, why wouldn't he be the leader of the group? Clark wanted to shun the spotlight as much as Bruce did, but for different reasons. He had other responsibilities, other commitments and preferred to be part of the team rather than out front. Unlike Bruce though, everything about Superman seemed to signal to the public to focus their attention on him. Where Batman was garbed in dark, muted colors, Superman was in bold, bright hues. Even their symbols showed the contrast, predominantly black versus brash red on yellow. After the public's eyes stopped gazing at Diana, they usually turned towards Superman.

So what to do? Clark lay wondering how he could do what seemed to be inevitable, if what the group had talked about were to become reality, without losing track of those lonely voices in their solitude? Would becoming something more mean sacrificing the very reason he started all of this? The longer he pondered this, the more he realized just how much he had in common with those quiet, isolated souls, for here he was, alone with no one to talk to about any of it. Maybe that was why he fought so hard for them, as Superman and Clark Kent, because underneath it all he was one of them, too.

Micronesia

The latest tests hadn't been unsuccessful. After Berlin, Karen had return to the main lab and thrown herself into the work. She drove her team hard, but not as hard as herself. All her energy, all her focus seemed concentrated on making it work. When it failed to do so, it was devastating. She managed to thank everyone for their hard work and said they would start over in a day or two. She gave them all some time off to rest and relax, but as she made her way to her office she felt like anything but relaxing.

She dropped into a chair and stared out at the ocean. It suddenly felt like a metaphor, the same way the ocean cut the island off from everything, Karen felt cut off from everything and everyone. Home seemed further away than it ever had. Her one friend in this world was just a phone call away, but Karen hesitated to make it. Helena would be a shoulder to cry on and sympathetic, but eventually it would come around to the talk about needing to face their current reality. Like her father, Helena liked to stay grounded, focused on the hard, cold facts in front of her. The last thing Karen wanted to here was the cold, rational truths as they presently stood. She already knew them; she just didn't want to accept them.

Other than Helena, though, she had no one else to turn to. In the good times, no attachments seemed like a workable, prudent way of dealing with all of this. Unfortunately they weren't always good times. The poet John Donne had long ago famously written 'no man is an island' and the truth of those words still resonate today. Some truths are timeless, even with all the changes around us. E-mail or a text never feels quite as special as a simple, ordinary letter. All the ways science and technology have come up with to keep us in contact from the phone to Facebook to video conferencing, they can't replace seeing someone in person.

The modern world has reduced everyone to two senses, sight and sound, but we have other ones. Technology can try and simulate these, but it will always be a poor second hand copy of the original. A handshake, a kiss or a hug conveys so many different things that can't be measured. Watch the families of returning veterans when they first appear on the steps of the plane or at the railing of the ship. They might have spoken over a video link the day before, but it's never as real as that first moment they actually see them. It's why those simple, even anonymous reunions can bring a tear to even the hardest of hearts. It's because we all know what that moment is like and the latest phone or gadget can never duplicate it.

You can try and substitute plain physical contact for a connection. It may push those feelings away for a time, but if things happen to get bad, that's when the true loneliness hits the hardest. Karen had spent the better part of five years pushing everything away, keeping this world at arm's length. There had been good times and bad and up until recently she had made not connection with anyone here, so physical contact managed to get her through the bad times. Her mistake was letting someone slip through and make a connection. Once this had happened she remembered the difference. Suddenly just physical contact wasn't enough, as Berlin had made sadly obvious.

Metropolis - Later

Sleep still hadn't come. The rain continued. Clark had tossed and turned; yet no answers came. In frustration he finally tossed back the sheet and sat up on the side of his bed. The clothes he had on earlier were lying on a chair next to the bed. Better to go out in the rain and wander around the empty cities streets than remain here, he thought. The walls seemed to be closing in and the isolation was like heavy gravity. He reached over and grabbed his pants and pulled them on. He was just starting to stand when he saw her. She was just floating outside his tiny patio in the rain. Karen.

"I didn't want to come,' she said.

"Yet you're here."

Emotions began churning through him as he looked at her. The last time he'd seen her she'd torn a hole inside of him. Seeing her again, it reopened.

"I tried staying away."

"But you didn't."

'No, I didn't."

He wanted to lash out at her, hurt her, as she'd hurt him. Yet as he looked at her floating in the rain, soaked to the skin, he saw the sadness in her eyes. The rain may have masked her tears to most, but he could still see them. He couldn't help repeating the last words she'd said to him that night.

"You said it was a mistake."

Her hand came up and brushed some of the damp tangles of hair from her face. She looked at him again.

"It was, it is, cause I couldn't stay away."

Part of him thought to close the glass doors on her, to return the pain she'd caused him. This part was quickly overwhelmed by all the rest that made him who he was. He slowly extended his hand.

"Come on inside."

She seemed to hesitate, as if crossing the artificial border of his tiny patio railing would signify more than just coming in from the rain.

"Come on, just to get out of the rain."

This seemed to quiet some of her doubts. He wasn't asking for more, just that she come inside and out of the rain. She floated over and landed, taking only the smallest step inside, while keeping her distance from him. She was trembling but not from a chill.

"This can't be more than what it is."

She looked at him hard, trying to convince both of them.

"It can't be more. It just can't."

He slowly nodded, as if he understood.

"Then it will just be what it is."

She took a step closer to him. She seemed to be trembling even more.

"I just can't let it, I can't."

"Then I won't ask you to."

"It's just … I needed someone. You."

"I'm glad it was me."

"It's just for tonight."

She was quick to clarify this, even as she took a step closer.

'Just tonight."

He held his hand out to her. A moment passed and then she put her hand in his.

"Tell me you understand."

"Yes, more than you know."

He took a step closer to her. She didn't back away. He took her gently in his arms and she willingly embraced him. She whispered.

"It can't be more…"

"… then tonight."

He softly replied, finishing her sentence. He held her in his arms and she rested her head on his shoulder. Her arms circled around his neck, pulling him in tighter. The tears came again and he slowly stroked her damp hair.

The rain continued, but now the loneliness was pushed back even if it was for just one night. It was what they both needed so desperately, but had almost been too frightened to admit.

"Just tonight." He quietly said.

"Just tonight."