Chapter Text
It was times like these when it was all worth it in the end. To be able to rest and relax after working nonstop for the past few days. Sure, most would like to return home after hero’ing for so long, and he'd been up here for a while already, but if he was honest with himself, he didn't have anywhere else to be.
The creaking sounds of metal Watchtower around him, distant conversations in the mess hall, and even the fury of blows in the training rooms a few floors down. It wasn’t as silent as he’d like, but It was much more quiet up here in space. It was peaceful, the stars were always a beautiful sight, and unlike Fawcet city, there was nothing going wrong. Sure, maybe he was jinxing it with thoughts like that, but up here in the upper atmosphere of Earth, the only thing he had to worry about were a few monitors. It allowed him to be at ease, and a few times a week, he didn’t even have to worry about something as small as a mugger hiding in the shadows.
Just friends and heroes.
Letting out a content sigh, Marvel sunk into the nicely padded chair. In fact, it was probably the most comfortable chair he’d ever sat in quite honestly.
“I need to ask Batman where he got these chairs,” Marvel muttered to himself.
“Captain?” a familiar voice suddenly asked from behind him.
Marvel jumped a little bit and was pulled from his head. He blinked a few times, centering himself, before twisting around on the swivel chair with a smile on his face.
“What do you need, Superman?” Marvel asked with his usual chipper attitude,
Superman was just staring at him, a confused look on his features, but beneath that, Marvel could see worry as well. Marvel raised a brow in a silent question, but he knew why the man- no, Kryptonian, was worried. In fact, it was the only thing anyone in the League was worried about when it came to him.
“You’ve been conducting League business for nearly a week straight, and you’re still here?” Superman asked, seemingly not believing his own words.
“That long?” he said in mock contemplation, “I guess, I’ve lost track of the days.”
“Captain, I appreciate the dedication, but you need to take a break,” Superman said with a tired shake of his head.
For the briefest of seconds, Marvel's mask inadvertently slipped at the idea of a ‘break’. When was the last time he had one? A rare deep frown and far away look momentarily took hold of him, his eyes drifting to the side, before he quickly pulled the mask back up. His breath hitched in his throat, silently hoping Superman didn’t see it, but Superman’s eyes were sharp and with his brow furrowed it was obvious that he noticed.
Superman walked forward and sat in the chair next to him.
He leaned forward, his hands clasped together in front of him, and before Marvel could even protest he was met with the Superman he’d seen console many shaken or troubled League members.
“Talk to me,” he said in a friendly tone, the worry in his eyes now plain as day.
Marvel wanted to play him off, but for some reason, he felt his spine stiffen up as a slight nervousness slowly revealed itself in the back of his mind.
It didn’t surprise him that Superman had noticed. Marvel is known for his smiles and perpetual optimism, so whenever he was down pretty much anyone who knew him noticed. Sometimes it was annoying; he could frown too, but their worry always came from a good place.
He has known Superman for years at this point. He was probably one of the most powerful non-magical beings on the Earth, and he even scared him at one point when he first appeared on the scene, but after they met and got to know each other, and especially after the Justice League was founded, it was obvious that he genuinely cared for his fellow heroes. He wore it openly on his sleeve, and if people were honest with themselves, to have people around you to confide in was something that nearly everyone craved in one aspect or another.
To have your own little community with shared experiences to lean on was something that would have done him wonders years ago, and even now he's surprised to have it.
Marvel looked at him for a few more moments before letting his mask fall away. Shifting in his chair, he swung himself back around to face the monitors, and the Earth below. A tired sigh he didn’t know he was holding exiting his throat.
Talk? When was the last time he talked? With anyone?
“I understand that you’re a private man, Captain. But even the strongest of us need someone to talk to every now and again,” Superman said
“I get you supes, but… “ he didn’t really know what to say, or how to say it.
“You’ve been in this business longer than most of us, hell, you're one of the people that inspired me to make a difference in this world,” he said with a little adoration in his voice, “This is the least I can do, Captain.”
Marvel couldn’t help but lightly smile at that. He’s heard that line probably a million times at this point in his life. From children, adults, heroes, and even a few reformed villains. But to hear it from Superman? The man most of the world looked up to in adoration? It was… comforting. A relief to know that all his work has led to other worthy and capable individuals picking up the mantle of protector of Earth.
“Thank you, supes. You have no idea how much that means to me,” Marvel said softly as he glazed back over at superman, nodding.
Superman nodded back, and went silent. Waiting for him.
Looking back out the windows of the Watchtower, Marvel couldn’t help but lean his head back into the headrest as he held out his worries in his mind in front of him. Many things worried the man. Everything from League business to whether he looked stupid or not in some new shirt he bought. However, as he held those subjects in his mind, he found that they all paled in comparison to a specific worry he’s had ever since he decided to stay in this form all those decades ago.
On the rare occasions when he had nothing to do, it slips in silently. Threatening to shut him down for a few hours if he contemplated it for more than a few minutes. It made the nearly indestructible man feel hollow inside, pathetic almost. Normally, he wouldn’t reveal this to anyone, but Marvel respected the man he’s worked with for two years, and Superman was right about one thing.
He did need to talk.
“I guess you could say I’m running from something,” Marvel said in a quiet tone, nearly whispering.
Superman didn’t say anything, but that was fine, he didn’t really need him to.
“I’ve been doing this for nearly thirty years. Day in, day out. It’s been my passion and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, but… “ Marvel stopped, blinking hard a few times to collect his nerve.
“Outside of this life I…,” He felt exposed, naked almost, “I don’t have anything.”
Superman shifted in his chair next to him, and as Marval glanced at Superman he saw the silent shock in his blue eyes and on his face as clear as day. Marvel wasn’t really surprised by his reaction. Everyone in the League, even The Question, had a life to some degree outside of the League. Family, friends, loved ones, jobs, and all of that.
But Marvel? Not much at all besides a few small and trivial things. He looked back out to space.
“When I first got these powers I tried to live the double life,” he said, an unseen but heavy weight to his words, “To be a hero and normal at the same time.”
Lifting his hand up, he summoned lightning between his thumb and index finger. Fidgeting with it as he tried to find the right words to use. He felt Superman’s eyes boring into him and no amount of muscles or power could protect him from his gaze, but despite how exposed he felt, he couldn’t stop now.
“I wasn’t in a good spot all those years ago and this,” he said in a sad tone, pointing at himself, “gave me what I needed to escape that.”
“I poured myself into this. To escape that powerless and helpless feeling which I despised and feared. But by the time I finally conquered that fear and was able to smell the roses, I…” an uneasy sigh exited his mouth, “there was no going back.”
He glanced back at Superman, and the shock and worry were replaced with a contemplative look.
“I had forgotten how to live in that world, and, while a part of me wishes to…” Marvel slowly shakes his head, “I can’t. Not when I can do what I do. Not when there’s people to save.”
“You don’t need to sacrifice everything, Marvel,” Superman said in a firm tone, the slight sound of righteous anger in those words not unnoticed.
“If this life has taught me anything, time and again, it is that you can’t divide your attention between two worlds,” Marvel said firmly back, though even to his ears it sounded somewhat hollow.
“No matter how powerful you may be, Marvel, you can’t escape your own mind,” Superman said as he sat up a little straighter.
Marvel opened his mouth to reply, but he couldn’t think of a reply to that.
“You say you possess the Wisdom of Solomon, but how wise is it to go at it alone?” he asked.
“Alone?” he fully looked at Superman with an inquisitive look, “I have the League.”
“At life.”
“This is my life,” Marvel said a little defensively.
“Being a hero is not a life, it’s a job.”
Marvel moved to retort, but as he processed those words, he felt his defensiveness melt away at the fundamental truth of those words.
“Everyday we fly over the lives of men and women. Protecting them from petty thieves and aliens bent on taking over the earth, but what do they do when they’re not in danger?”
Marvel looked away again, unable, for the first time, to meet his eye. Marvel could list a thousand things they did. Everything from love to hate. For the last thirty years he’s seen them live and… he’s barely done any of it. Looking down at his hands, he once again realized how little he actually held in them. It was almost like an abyss staring back at him.
“You’ve been a hero for so long, and with everything you’ve done for this world, don’t you believe you deserve some of that?”
“Of course I do!” he unexpectedly snapped to his own surprise, his voice sounding more pained than he liked.
However, that pain was only the tip of the iceberg. Thinking about everything like this, even now, so… plainly and openly, he felt his years of frustrations bubble dangerously in the neat box he has been putting them in since the beginning. The big and little things just waiting to burst out at the seams and pour out of him like a waterfall. God knows he wanted to vent. To rage at his demons without restraint.
Clenching his fist in an unknown rage, small arches of electricity sparked from his hand with barely audible pops. He contemplated telling Superman his greatest secret right then and there, but as he thought about it for more than a second, he wrestled with his frustrations. and with a shaky breath, reigned himself in. His heart was beating fast, and as he gritted his teeth briefly, he could tell that if he went on with this anymore he wouldn't be able to stop. Talking about the last twenty-eight years… he didn’t know if he would start to use Superman as a verbal punching bag, and he or anyone else didn’t deserve that.
Standing up abruptly, he quickly swiveled to the left and away from Superman. He moved a few steps away and put a hand on his hip while he rubbed his eyes anxiously with the other, taking several more deep breaths as he bottled his rage and frustrations back up.
He heard Superman stand behind him and walk a few steps closer, his usual inspiring presence now a little annoying and irritating.
"Captain, I'm sorry-"
"No," he said firmly, cutting him off, "it's not your fault."
Superman didn't respond.
"You're right, I should have a life, but I got a lot of baggage in my life, and you don't know the full picture.
He didn't know why he couldn't just go and live a second life... or that's what he'd like to tell himself.
"I shouldn't have brought up such a heavy topic on the fly like that," Marvel muttered to himself as he looked up at the ceiling.
"Then why don't we schedule it?"
His willingness to tackle problems like this was known by all, but right now of all times? He didn’t want his help at all.
"Maybe one day, Superman," he said with a tired sigh, "but right now, I think I need a break."