A truck puttered along a dirt road in the dead of night, stretching by acres and acres of golden fields of wheat. Inside that truck sat a couple, around 40 years in age with disappointed looks and silent, dejected hearts. The minutes ticked by as the couple continued up the road, the silence agonizing before the man chose to break it.
"I'm sorry Martha, I guess it wasn't meant to be." Said the man, his heart heavy as he kept the truck on the road. He glanced at his partner every once in a while, making sure that she wasn't too broken down by their recent revelation.
"I know Jonathan, I just wish we could have a boy or a girl or anybody of our own." Said Martha, her heartbreak clear from the choppiness of her words.
"We could always adopt." Said Jonathan, "They don't have to be ours."
"That would be a fabulous idea, but there aren't any foster homes or orphanages anywhere near our farmstead. Smallville isn't even on Vale's map." Said Martha, still dejected, "We can't afford to make that trip."
"*Sigh*, I know we can't, but know that I wish we could have a little monster of our own anyway." Said Jonathan, turning his vision back towards the road, "Who knows, maybe fate'll throw us a bone."
It was then that fate obliged, as a streak of fire flew in front of the truck, crashing into the fields to the side of the road. It's intensity blinded the couple, causing Jonathan to yell out in surprise.
"WHAT THE DEVIL?!" screamed Jonathan, swerving to avoid any obstacles as the truck screeched to a halt. The couple, shell shocked, exited the vehicle, slamming the doors of the truck shut before observing the crater path caused by the projectile, which left a path of flaming wheat, smoldering dirt, and a trail of thick smoke behind. Martha and Jonathan stood in awe, watching the embers crisp up from afar.
"What the hell was that?" said Jonathan, his hands shaking in fear. He'd seen comets in the sky before, but none have ever come close to breaking the skyline.
"I don't know." said Martha, "Maybe a meteor?"
It was then that Martha picked something up with her ears. The sound was muted, almost inaudible, but it was so distinct that Martha couldn't help but pick it up.
"I think I hear….Crying," said Martha, craning her neck towards the crash path.
"What? Are you sure?" said Jonathan, nervously placing his hand on Martha's shoulders, "I can't hear anything out there. It might be a trick."
"Yes, I'm sure, I think it's…. a baby!" said Martha before her heart rate skyrocketed. Breaking out of Jonathan's grip, Martha stumbled onto the crash path, running down it as Jonathan's eyes widened.
"MARTHA, COME BACK!" Shouted Jonathan as he raced after Martha. The two thundered over the burnt soil, following the path until they reached a large imposing crater. Martha slid into the crater, blindly walking through the smoke until she came across the projectile that had created the crash path.
It was a rocket, a rocket unlike any other. Its design was sleeker than most, with different buttons and symbols all over it, all foreign to Martha. As she approached the rocket, a side panel opened with a *hiss*, revealing an entirely unexpected surprise inside.
"Oh gods." Gasped Martha.
Is that a bird…..or a plane?
"Clark? CLARK?!"
A 12-year-old Clark Kent was dragged from his thoughts as his best friend, Pete Ross, called his name, ripping him away from an absentminded observation of the clear skies above them all. The boys were part of a class that had gathered in a field outside of school, having taken a break at noon for recess. The open grass stretched on, giving the boys ample room to play until an abrupt stop at the feet of a forest finally cut the field off.
"Clark, are you good? Cause I wanna play ball." Said Pete, enthusiastically cracking his knuckles as Clark smirked.
"Heck yeah, Pete! I'm good to go!" replied Clark, running off to join the rest of the class. The boys played gridiron football, an activity Clark enjoyed immensely, every day. It was an escape from the reality of the Grimm, an escape from the problems of the world. They may live in a dangerous world, but at least they didn't have to face the horrors while they were young. Pete grabbed the ball of the ground, whirling around as he prepared to pass the ball to Clark. Clark, eager, opened his arms, ready to receive as Pete tossed the ball into the air.
This is the greatest, I wish this could last forever.
*Thump* *Thump*
What?
The two consecutive sounds caught Clark off guard, throwing his attention off. He couldn't understand what they were, though they almost sounded like...a heartbeat?
"THE BALL CLARK!" screamed Pete.
"GAH" Clark gasped as the ball sailed past him, straight into the forest.
"Crap!" said Clark, rubbing the back of his head as Pete trudged up to him, perplexed.
"That was a clean pass Clark," said Pete, "How could you miss it?"
Clark stared at Pete, listening to his words as he prepared to answer. However, he found himself catching other things as well. The sweat coming off of Pete's face, his shallow breathing, maybe even the strange sounds of his eye's darting back and forth. It was such an uncomfortable yet mesmerizing thing to hear, smell, and see that Clark found himself drifting off into the raw detail of it all, detail that most people could never come close to picking up.
"Clark!" said Pete.
"Sorry, I'll get it!" said Clark as he dove into the underbrush, smacking branches out of the way on his way in.
What the heck is wrong with me. Why am I so...attentive all of a sudden?
The brush was normally a quiet place, but right now it seemed so loud, so alive. As Clark trudged through the forest, searching for the ball, the woods became louder and louder, to the point where it began to feel annoying, maybe even oppressive to Clark.
"Grr." grunted Clark, covering his ears.
As his search continued, the brush became louder and louder. The chirp of a cicada became the blaring of a smoke alarm. The sounds of leaves brushing against each other became the sounds of bullhead engines exploding to life. Every bird's chirp became a madman screaming in Clark's ears. As the chaotic cacophony reached its fever pitch, Clark dropped to his knees, the waves of noise crashing down on him in a way that could only be described as unbearable.
"MAKE IT STOP!" screamed Clark, breaking into tears as the sounds completely overwhelmed him. Somewhere, anywhere, was better than this place.
That's when the forest went quiet, dead quiet. The complete silence was immensely unsettling to Clark, especially after hearing a brush so full of life. As shook in fear, something could be heard from the bushes, drawing his attention towards them.
*Rustle* *Rustle*
"Huh?" said Clark, honing in on what seemed to be footsteps. As Clark listened closer, the footsteps began to grow louder than they were initially, becoming more frequent. signaling that something was coming...and fast. Clark, frozen in fear, could only watch as a Beowolf leaped from the brush, baring its fangs as it lunged at him.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH" Screamed Clark.
"CLARK!" shouted Pete, hearing his friend scream in terror.
"Mr. Ross, what's wrong?" said a teacher, who had come running as soon as they heard the commotion.
"I just heard Clark screaming in the woods!" replied Pete.
"Oh gods, they told me a beowolf may have gotten through the patrol defenses!" the teacher said, pulling out a Winchester shotgun. "Stay here, I'll take care of it!"
The teacher bore the shotgun with two hands as she rushed into the forest, crashing through the branches and leaves as she thundered towards the origin point of Clark's scream.
"Where are you?!" shouted the teacher. "C'mon you miserable sack of shit, show your hide so I can blow a hole in it!"
It was then that the teacher heard the sounds of someone hyperventilating. Coming to the conclusion that Clark was in trouble, the teacher barreled towards the sounds of rapid breathing.
"HANG ON KID, I'M COMING!" screamed the teacher, who began rushing towards the breathing. Breaking into the clearing, the teacher expected to find a Beowulf threatening the young boy.
Instead, they found Clark lying on the ground, virtually unharmed. His shirt may have been torn to shreds, but the bite marks on him were nothing more than bruises. Meanwhile, the beowolf was lying on a spot far from the boy, its head reduced to mush by what must have been a blunt attack.
"What the hell?" said the teacher.
"I don't know what happened, really Pa!" said Clark.
"I don't know either son, that's why I'm asking you." Said Jonathan.
The two were on a truck ride going home, and they weren't in happy moods. The vehicle puttered along the old country road, passing the setting sun as Clark stewed in his own insecurities. The boy was completely puzzled by what was happening to him, and his dismay was entirely clear from his body language. Slumping back into his seat, Clark wallowed in misery, an action noticed by his father. As Jonathan glanced back at his son, he sighed, realizing that if he didn't want his child to be miserable, he would have to rip the band-aid off, "I have something to show you, when we get back home."
"What is it?" asked Clark.
"It's best that you see for yourself son." Said Jonathan.
As the truck pulled into the farmstead, a worried Martha rushed out of the family home and approached the truck as the sun began to slip under the horizon. Getting out of the truck, Martha grabbed her son, holding him close as Jonathan approached.
"I heard about an incident at school, is he ok?!" said Martha.
"Yes, he's as fine as he's ever been, and the beowolf is not." Said Jonathan.
"What do you mean?" said Martha, puzzled.
"Martha, they found it pulverized next to Clark, alone!" said Jonathan.
"My goodness!" said Martha, a morbid expression on her face.
Jonathan wiped the sweat off his brow, dreading what he was about to do next, "It's time Martha."
"Oh no, not now, it's too early." Said Martha, holding Clark in an even tighter manner as Jonathan begrudgingly stepped closer to the two.
"We have to show him, or he'll find it himself!" said Jonathan, "It's better that we be there for him when he finally discovers it."
"Find what?" said Clark, completely confused by the entire ordeal, "What are you guys talking about."
Martha looked at Clark with sadness before sighing and gesturing him to follow her. As his parents lead Clark towards the barn, Clark couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehensiveness about this whole situation. Why were they taking him to the barn?
Jonathan pushed open the doors to the barn, revealing its musty interior. Stalls that normally housed livestock were completely empty, with only old hay and shavings remaining. As Clark took it all in, he turned towards his parents, still utterly confused, "Um, it's the same as it's always been."
"We didn't show you all of it." Said Jonathan.
Jonathan crouched down and cleared the dust off of an old trapdoor. As he pulled out and began fiddling with a ring of keys, Clark looked at the trapdoor with curiosity, a curiosity that grew as he continued observing the door. He could almost see through it.
What the!
Clark's vision, as if on queue, suddenly peered past the trapdoor as if it wasn't there. His vision unchained, he suddenly bore witness to a strange rocket with different odd symbols, including a strange S.
"Dad, what's a rocket doing under the Barn." Said Clark,
"Oh gods, he can see it!" said Martha, "He can see it through the floor!"
"Clark," said Jonathan, abandoning the effort to even unlock the trapdoor as he stood up, tentatively stepping towards his son to comfort him, "I don't know how to tell you this-"
"Tell me what?" said Clark, his heart beating faster.
"Well Clark, your birthday isn't December 14th, it's the day we found you in this thing." Explained Jonathan.
"What?" said Clark.
"We didn't know what to make of it," said Martha, "we kinda figured it was an Atlesian science experiment."
"This is a joke, right?" said Clark, eliciting nothing but silence from his parents. As his heart quickened, Clark began to rationalize the revelation in his mind in a feeble attempt to curb his quickly growing anxiety, "For real, this is just a messed-up punishment right, I'm sorry, I'll be good from now on."
"Clark, this is all true, we would never do anything to hurt you." Said Martha, reaching out in an attempt to comfort her son. However, Clark, suddenly faced with indescribable mental backlash, backed away from her.
"No no NO, it can't be true," said Clark, trembling as he began to tear up, "I'm not some science experiment gone wrong, I can't be!"
Clark, unable to face his surrogate family, whirled around and bolted, running as fast as he could to escape. As he began to crash through the fields, he could hear Jonathan call out his name, but he ignored it, pushing the thoughts of his family out of his mind as he disappeared into the night.
The sun had set and the shattered moon was up, casting a pale light over the forest as Clark sat on a tree branch in the middle of a forest, tears dripping from his eyes. There were so many conflicting emotions storming within him, most notably a conflict of identity. Clark had no clue who, or even what, he was supposed to be.
Why, why am I here, who made me?
"Um, are you ok up there?"
The new voice startled Clark as his gaze turned downward to find a young girl, no older than 10, staring back up at him, her dark red hair reflecting against the moonlight. However, what caught Clark's eyes the most was her eyes, as silver as...well, silver. As odd as it was to see a stranger at night, Clark couldn't shake the feeling that her question was one of honest concern. Dejected, Clark really didn't feel that there was any point in lying.
"No, not really." Said Clark, turning away from the girl.
"Um, want a cookie?" said the girl.
Presented with the allure of sweets, Clark remained silent for a moment before uttering a quiet, "….sure." hopping from his spot and to approach the girl. The girl pulled out a bag of cookies, (From where Clark didn't know) and slid a cookie out of the bag, presenting it to Clark.
"Here, I have plenty!" said the girl.
"Thanks," said Clark, taking the cookie and biting down on it. The chocolate had the perfect balance of soft chewiness and crunchy texture. The creamy chocolate didn't hurt either.
"This is amazing!" said Clark, feeling as if his day had brightened up just a little.
"Ha, Yang always makes the best cookies!" said the girl.
"Who's Yang?" asked Clark, crumbs falling out of his mouth.
"My sister." Replied the girl.
"You should tell her to pursue a career!" said Clark, wolfing down what was left of the cookie.
"Heh, I doubt Yang would do that, she's going to be a huntress." Said the girl proudly.
"That's really cool, what do you want to be?" said Clark.
"I wanna be a hunter too!" answered the girl.
Clark couldn't help but smile, this girl was like a little ball of infectious enthusiasm.
"Hey, I haven't seen you before, are you new out here?" asked Clark.
"Well, Yes and No. My family is visiting from Patch." Said the girl.
"Oh." Said Clark.
That's sad, she's so nice.
"Are you going anytime soon?" asked Clark.
"Yeah, tomorrow morning, I just wanted to do a little more exploring on my own before we left." Said the girl.
Clark was silent before a moment before realizing something.
"Hey, what's your name," asked Clark.
Before the girl could answer, a new voice called out, yelling "Ruby Rose, where are you?! Dad's getting a little worried!"
Well, at least Clark knew her name, "Ruby...Rose?"
"Yeah, and that'd be my dad, I gotta go." Said Ruby, turning around to walk towards the voice. "Have a nice night!"
"You too!" said Clark as Ruby moved out of view.
Clark sat back down, for some reason he felt so much calmer. Clark began to reflect on the encounter unsure of whether or not he should seek out the girl later in life. Before he could get too deep, however, he was interrupted by a growl.
*GRRRRR*
More than one.
A pack of beowulfs soon emerged from the brush, circling Clark in the dark of the night.
"What the hell, why won't you guys just leave me alone!" said Clark, his earlier happiness replaced by the anxiety that preceded it. The negative energy piqued the grimms interest, causing them to close in on him.
"Go. Away." Said Clark, his eyes turning red.
The beowolf bared their teeth, snarling as they leaped at Clark.
"GO! AWAY!" screamed Clark as a ray of heat emerged from his eyes.
The heat from his eyes erased practically everything in Clark's eyesight, burning away all the grimm and cutting dozens of trees in half. Clark continued waving his head around in fear, burning away bushes and blackening the ground in a wild panic.
"AAAAAAAAAHH" Screamed Clark as he put his hands over his eyes, stopping curbing the rays of death.
"CLARK!"
Clark heard a voice call out for him, a voice he recognized as his dads, "Don't come near me Pa!"
As Clark dropped onto his side, curling up into a ball, Jonathan raced onto the scene, sliding to a stop in front of his son as he knelt down, pulling him up to comfort the boy.
"Hey, Clark, Clark! Look at me, look me in the eyes," said Jonathan, fear in his voice. He couldn't bear to see his son like this.
"I can't, I'll hurt you!" said Clark, horrified by his own body.
"OK," said Jonathan, realizing that he needed to calm Clark down, "then listen to the sound of my voice."
Listening to his father, Clark honed in on Jonathan's voice, paying as much attention to it as possible while pushing everything else out of his mind.
"You're safe now, I've got you, Clark." Said Jonathan.
Clark slowly but surely felt the intense heat leave his eyes. Once they did, he removed his hands and looked into his father's eyes as tears began to streak down his cheeks.
"I don't want to be a freak; I want to be your son." Cried Clark, his internal insecurities boiling into his words.
Jonathan looked Clark in the eyes and said the only thing he could, the truth.
"Clark, you're not a freak. You are my Son."
Unable to bear his circumstances, Clark embraced his father, a sentiment that Jonathan returned. They weren't strangers, they never were.
They were father and son. They were family.
"Are you sure he's ready?" asked Martha.
"If Five years with his powers isn't enough, then I doubt that he'll ever be ready." Said Jonathan.
The two were waiting at the gate of the airship to the main city of Vale, and unfortunately, the one supposed to board was late.
"That boy better not miss his flight!" said Martha.
"Don't worry, I won't!" said a new voice.
Clark had finally arrived, dressed in a classic grey suit and red tie, as well as thick-rimmed glasses.
"Oh Clark, you look so handsome!" said Martha, cupping her hand to the boy's cheek.
"I get it mom; I don't look half bad." Said an embarrassed Clark.
"Oh stop, you're a looker, you're bound to catch a few girls attention." Said Martha.
"MOM!" said Clark, embarrassed.
"Ah, leave the boy alone Martha, he's got enough on his plate." Said Jonathan.
"Thanks, Ma, Pa, seriously I can't thank you two enough." Said Clark.
"All packed up son?" said Jonathan.
"Yep!" said Clark.
"Heh, then what are you waiting for?! Go get 'em!" said Jonathan.
Clark smiled and said "Goodbye, Ma, Pa, I love you so much!" before boarding the airship.
As the airship began to leave, Martha became worried.
"Oh Jonathan, I know we raised him well, but isn't a Huntsman too dangerous?" said Martha.
"Heh, with him, not a chance, we raised him right, he won't fall or stray from his path. He's going to do great things!" said Jonathan.
The two watched as the airship left the port, taking Clark Kent to his destiny.
For those who are reading for the first time or rereading this fic, I've decided to come back and rewrite/fix grammar mistakes. So the quality of this chapter may not be reflected in the following chapters for some time.
Readers of my other fic, Lightning Strikes, Might be a little confused, DC Heroes Tag instead of just Superman, and that's because one of my reviewers asked if Batman would be in my Fic. I considered it and realized an infinitely more interesting story than just Superman. What if the protagonists would be Both Clark and Bruce, their story forever intertwined. The idea was further inspired when I read Joshua Williamsons recent Superman/Batman series.
I decided then that the new story would be a Superman/Batman Story.
Other DC characters may appear, But it won't be as constant as Lightning Strikes, The MHA Universe is a perfect fit for pretty much the entire DC Universe, But RWBY isn't. Some characters just don't fit, but I will try my Best.
In terms of Ships, You can probably guess where I'm taking Clark, But Bruce is another story, I can't decide so I'll let My Reviewers choose, Blake or Weiss who do you ship Bruce with. I'll try and make it happen.
The Next Chapter will be Bruces Origin, then chapter 3 will launch us into the Main RWBY Narrative.
Alright, you guys have fun with this story, I sure have fun writing it.
Rewrites part 1: Alright, I've decided to go through this story, fixing things I felt unsatisfied with. This chapter is mostly fine, only a few details needed improving.
This Chapter is dedicated to Christopher Reeve, the best Superman.
HAVE A NICE DAY!