You Can't Fit a Basketball in a Keyhole
premise: home, season finale ending. an unlikely possibility.
summary: when superman wishes he were clark kent. when a man realizes that his superhuman powers mean nothing unless they are saving the one person who truly matters most. that's a hero.
pov: dr. andy brown
rating: pg, one word
disclaimer: simply stated, i own nothing. shh.
The second he leaves the room, he can think again.
And once the thoughts start rushing to his head, he almost wishes he could go back into that room where he doesn't have to think. That room full of blankness and silence and…void of human emotion. You can't feel human emotions when you're a surgeon. What was happening to him? He was a surgeon.
They are going to hate me.
I did this to myself.
And now they're going to blame me for everything that follows.
Why did I tell them I could do this? Why?
Trying to block out all the thoughts and be the strong surgeon he once was, he forced himself down the busy hallway, oblivious to the curious stares and unprofessional whispers.
And then at last he reached a crowded waiting room, filled with loving hopefuls who had given him the hands to mold Colin into the best thing he could come up with. They trusted him. And he had let them trust him.
How could he tell them? How could he break their hearts and shatter their hopes? How could he tell them that Dr. Andy Brown could not be trusted?!
He closed his eyes and looked around. Anxious faces watch him. He recognized all of them. Their expressions were scared, that deer-in-headlights look. His eyes fell upon Amy, the most hopeful of all. It would be like kicking a cripple. He couldn't tell her.
He glanced around the room from the Harts to Dr. Abbott to Brights to several others. And he tried hard not to feel the emotion he saw on their faces. He tried hard to block it out, he tried his best.
And failed.
It was never this hard. It was always break the news, leave, goodbye. It was never easy, but it never was hard. That scared him. He wished it had always been hard. He couldn't imagine how he had done this easily.
Things had changed. He was still a surgeon. But other things had taken priority.
His last gaze was laid upon face of his son. And despite everything, he felt a kind of warmth fill his heart, because he knew he had finally set his priorities where they needed to be, maybe a little late, but finally. He couldn't put his son at the risk of losing everything he had. He could deal with the shunning, the temporary hate and all. But the pale, vulnerable boy before him…he could not.
He hated himself for what he had done.
"I'm sorry," he finally uttered, unable to look at anything but the floor. "I-I…"
He heard a loud, hysterical sob escape Amy's throat. Mrs. Hart had just begun a string of "oh my God"s. And he felt the angry glare of almost everyone in the room boring through his head, straight into his heart.
He cleared his throat and looked up straight at Ephram. Regaining composure and trying to maintain that emotionless doctor voice, he continued, "I'm sorry. But I couldn't…"
It was there that he cracked. And for the first time ever, Dr. Andy Brown's tears touched pale green scrubs.
"I couldn't do it," he gasped, breaking down. "I couldn't be your hero. Because if I messed up, we'd—I'd—be the villain. I didn't save him this way…but at least I didn't kill him. I was all set to do it and then…and then I realized something. I'm not fit for this. With what I've been through it would be like trying to jam a basketball into a keyhole…this isn't me."
He was a surgeon once, it was true, but to be a superhero you must be a rock. You cannot feel emotion. You cannot think about the risks or the danger.
To be a father is to feel emotion. It is to worry about the danger constantly. You can only be a hero to a select few that see your powers. Nobody else can see or understand.
You can't do both. You have to choose the one that matters most to you.
He held his hands to his face and sobbed, "And me…I can't…I'm not the Great Doctor Brown anymore."
The scene in the hospital waiting room suddenly changed. But not because Amy wiped her tears, or because the Harts were shooting death glares in his direction, or even because Ephram was flashing his best "what-kind-of-insane-bastard-are-you" looks at him.
No, it was nothing that obvious. It was a subtle change. It was hidden behind the initial shock. It was Clark Kent's rise to heroism.