Originally posted January 9, 2011
((I can't imagine the wonder of actually seeing the Earth from space for the first time or steeping in to the HQ of the world's greatest heroes. This is my stab at it as seen through Kid Harrier and the Harrier King.))
"Oh wow. That's fucking cool."
Chance looked at the glares the outburst attracted. "Mercedes," he cautioned. "Family words." She chuckled and shrugged, her head sheepishly dipping between her shoulders. She looked at the capes to her right and left. "Sorry. Sorry."
The blond man took the risk of placing a hand on his teenaged daughter's shoulder and leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "It is pretty fucking cool, isn't it?" They shared a smile.
The vista of the Earth spread out before them in the Watchtower observation lounge. Buenos Aires passed below. Soon, the sun would leave the African coast. Chance took note of the costumes around him on the deck and felt vaguely out of place. Mercedes had hastily silkscreened a pair of red wings on a gray tee-shirt before they ported up. Chance had not changed clothes. He stood on the deck with any number of garishly costumed heroes wearing a pair of jeans and a Gotham Knights sweatshirt. Younger heroes, Chance noted. He felt the oldest person in the space.
Chance pulled his gaze away back from the view and to the balcony behind them. "Des. You should get up there. The tour is about ready to start." She slowly turned her head, pulling it away from the view. "Va, you're not coming?"
"Nah. I've seen it before. Besides, you don't want your old man around when you try to talk to that boy in the red tights." Mercedes blushed, but looked the gathering group one more time and smiled. Chance tried not to act surprised as athletic teen wrapped her arms around him in an unprompted hug. "Thank you, vader." Her head turned back to the Earth then up at him. "Thank you."
He smiled at his red headed offspring. "Go on. I'll be here." Chance observed as his daughter lightly danced from the deck to join the group. He watched until the docent led the tour out of sight. Only then did he return his attention to the view to the planet below.
Chance imagined touching the glass between him and the Earth. He wondered if it would feel cold, distant. You could not see the streets from here, the dirt, the blood. He thought he could play at this level, once. He shook his head. His feet needed to walk on the pavement, the concrete that hummed with an unseen subway. Chance needed to see the faces of the people in his neighborhood, accept the smiles, and sit with the suffering. Up here just seemed too far away.
If he stretched out his arm he could touch the glass. Reaching out over the railing his fingers would just barely brush against it, enough to test its temperature. Chance slipped his hands into his pockets and watched the Earth as the sun rose on Quito and waited for his daughter to return.
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