Fic excerpt: Summers (multichapter) Clark Kent, Scott Summers [rated teen]
I thought I'd share the fic eating my brain this weekend & the reason I needed help with Bruce Springsteen songs. It's a comicverse crossover of Superman/X-Men: What if the Summers' plane crashed in Smallville, Kansas?
The difficulty in this fic, I'm finding, is understanding the different nuances of Clark & Scott's quietness. Clark feels and empathises; Scott calculates and analyses. Because the two characters are naturally introverted and there's not a lot of overt heroing going on in Smallville circa 1980's, a lot of the "action" goes on in their head. There are whole pages of thinking and minute movements instead of the clipping dialogue and bombastic action that comes to easily when writing Lois Lane, Gambit, Rogue, Green Arrow, heck, even Chloe Sullivan. So when you put two introverted people in a room with adults who speak mostly in non-verbals, you have to try to figure out who becomes the (relatively) loud one & how much can I show without the characters seeming too showy?
=^o.O^= A maroon-shirted volunteer pointed him to the elevators for the pediatric wing. Clark's face slowly flushed, his shyness coming to the fore. He didn't know what to say to the staff. He wasn't family, he couldn't let on how he stopped Alex and Scott from falling too hard, heck, he had no idea what to say if either boy asked him why he didn't save their parents either.
"Excuse me, ma'am." He gave the nurses at the station a wobbly smile. "I'm, um, looking for Scott and Alex Summers?"
One of them nodded, smiling politely back. "Who're you, hon?"
"Oh. Uh. I'm, uh, just visiting. I... I have food from my mom and, and..."
"I meant how do you know the patients?"
"Oh!" He leaned forward. "They kind of landed in our farm," he whispered, blushing deeper. "I'm sorry. I know we're not family but we just wanted to make sure they were all right and so if you could just give them this from my Ma, I'll be on my-- oh, and you all can have some, too, of course but I'm not sure if there's enough to go around. I suppose I could see if we have any more pie and come back tomorrow--"
"Clark!"
Something small and pajama-clad slammed into his legs. He leaned back automatically to make sure the other person wouldn't get hurt. It was Alex and, boy, did he look a lot better!
"They gots Nintendo!" the little boy proclaimed, utterly thrilled.
Clark took a knee. "Hi, Alex. That's a neat cast you've got there."
"Yuh-huh. It's blue. Jackie, lookit! It's blue!"
A middle-aged couple stood a few feet away. The woman said, "That's right, Alex. You've got a blue cast," while the man held his hand out.
"Gary Masters. So you're Clark," he said. "Alex here says you flew and caught them."
Clark rubbed the back of his neck. "Flew? Gosh, wouldn't that've been something? I'd've liked to, sir, but all I did was use the walkie to ask my pa to call the fire department." Belatedly, he shook the man's hand.
"That's plenty," said the woman, Jackie. "I'm so glad you visited."
"Thank you. I mean, you're welcome. I mean--" Clark gave up and just held out the cooler. "My ma made this for the boys. I wish there was more."
"You saved their lives andfeed them. You're more than a hero, Clark. Now the only way we'd accept this is if you eat it with us in Scott's room."
Because Martha Kent raised him right, Clark politely refused while the Masters' politely insisted and after four or five rounds of that, he found himself in a two-bed room with a nauseating amount of equipment, all of which were attached to Scott Summers.
"Scott's sleeping 'cause his owie's real, real big," whispered Alex.
Jackie clarified the situation. "His head is bruised and was starting to swell up. They have a stent in-- that's like a drain-- to keep the fluids from doing too much damage but they've got him sleeping as much as possible to keep his brain activity down and prevent more damage."
"Does he... does he have a lot of it? Th-the damage?"
"We won't really know until more of the swelling comes down."
He did this. He should have secured Scott's head better or twisted to one side like he initially planned instead of meeting the ground at a dead stop. He was just a kid; he didn't look old enough to be in middle school. Clark swore he'd make it up to Scott. He didn't know how just yet, but he would.
Also, I want Lois to take Clark out of the V-Club in this fic but I'm not sure it'll fit.
The difficulty in this fic, I'm finding, is understanding the different nuances of Clark & Scott's quietness. Clark feels and empathises; Scott calculates and analyses. Because the two characters are naturally introverted and there's not a lot of overt heroing going on in Smallville circa 1980's, a lot of the "action" goes on in their head. There are whole pages of thinking and minute movements instead of the clipping dialogue and bombastic action that comes to easily when writing Lois Lane, Gambit, Rogue, Green Arrow, heck, even Chloe Sullivan. So when you put two introverted people in a room with adults who speak mostly in non-verbals, you have to try to figure out who becomes the (relatively) loud one & how much can I show without the characters seeming too showy?
=^o.O^= A maroon-shirted volunteer pointed him to the elevators for the pediatric wing. Clark's face slowly flushed, his shyness coming to the fore. He didn't know what to say to the staff. He wasn't family, he couldn't let on how he stopped Alex and Scott from falling too hard, heck, he had no idea what to say if either boy asked him why he didn't save their parents either.
"Excuse me, ma'am." He gave the nurses at the station a wobbly smile. "I'm, um, looking for Scott and Alex Summers?"
One of them nodded, smiling politely back. "Who're you, hon?"
"Oh. Uh. I'm, uh, just visiting. I... I have food from my mom and, and..."
"I meant how do you know the patients?"
"Oh!" He leaned forward. "They kind of landed in our farm," he whispered, blushing deeper. "I'm sorry. I know we're not family but we just wanted to make sure they were all right and so if you could just give them this from my Ma, I'll be on my-- oh, and you all can have some, too, of course but I'm not sure if there's enough to go around. I suppose I could see if we have any more pie and come back tomorrow--"
"Clark!"
Something small and pajama-clad slammed into his legs. He leaned back automatically to make sure the other person wouldn't get hurt. It was Alex and, boy, did he look a lot better!
"They gots Nintendo!" the little boy proclaimed, utterly thrilled.
Clark took a knee. "Hi, Alex. That's a neat cast you've got there."
"Yuh-huh. It's blue. Jackie, lookit! It's blue!"
A middle-aged couple stood a few feet away. The woman said, "That's right, Alex. You've got a blue cast," while the man held his hand out.
"Gary Masters. So you're Clark," he said. "Alex here says you flew and caught them."
Clark rubbed the back of his neck. "Flew? Gosh, wouldn't that've been something? I'd've liked to, sir, but all I did was use the walkie to ask my pa to call the fire department." Belatedly, he shook the man's hand.
"That's plenty," said the woman, Jackie. "I'm so glad you visited."
"Thank you. I mean, you're welcome. I mean--" Clark gave up and just held out the cooler. "My ma made this for the boys. I wish there was more."
"You saved their lives andfeed them. You're more than a hero, Clark. Now the only way we'd accept this is if you eat it with us in Scott's room."
Because Martha Kent raised him right, Clark politely refused while the Masters' politely insisted and after four or five rounds of that, he found himself in a two-bed room with a nauseating amount of equipment, all of which were attached to Scott Summers.
"Scott's sleeping 'cause his owie's real, real big," whispered Alex.
Jackie clarified the situation. "His head is bruised and was starting to swell up. They have a stent in-- that's like a drain-- to keep the fluids from doing too much damage but they've got him sleeping as much as possible to keep his brain activity down and prevent more damage."
"Does he... does he have a lot of it? Th-the damage?"
"We won't really know until more of the swelling comes down."
He did this. He should have secured Scott's head better or twisted to one side like he initially planned instead of meeting the ground at a dead stop. He was just a kid; he didn't look old enough to be in middle school. Clark swore he'd make it up to Scott. He didn't know how just yet, but he would.
Also, I want Lois to take Clark out of the V-Club in this fic but I'm not sure it'll fit.