Title: Rainbow’s Freedom (Rainbow Prisms Arc) (19/42)
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce, Dick, Alfred
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. Clark finally learns about his identity and heritage. Will that knowledge tear him and Bruce apart? Meanwhile, Rebellion and Abolition twist and turn in the pageantry of events.
The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Challenge, Drama, Slavefic
Rating: (this chapter): G
Summary: Clark gives his Family a tour of the farm.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): November 25, 2010
Date Of Posting: November 10, 2011
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1176
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: The magnificent story cover is by the wonderfully-talented ctbn60. Thanks so much, luv! :)
Came the Starchild’s ship.
The Honored Ones found him
Amidst fire and stars
And took him home
To love as their own.
The Freedom Chronicles
CORN ‘N’ WILDFLOWERS
Clark happily pointed out trees and other objects of interest, chattering about family and personal history as he drove the truck as it rattled down the bumpy road. The window in the back of the cab had been lowered so that Dick could hear everything from the bed. Alfred and Bruce were in the cab with Clark.
“That’s the oak tree that Grandpa Kent climbed when he was ten, fell out, and spent a summer in a leg cast. That’s the path that leads to Miller’s Pond. We’ll stop there on our way back. That maple tree over in the field is where Pete Ross and I built a treehouse, and you can probably find bits of wood there at the base even now.”
Bruce watched Clark’s face as his lover talked. His blue eyes shone and his face was animated as he gestured, eagerly imparting memories that were coming back to him.
He understood Clark’s feelings. He enjoyed tremendous pride in Wayne Manor and the surrounding estate, his family history everywhere. He knew every nook and cranny of his home, too, and was honored that Clark was so eager to share his home with him and Alfred and Dick.
A glance back at Dick showed the boy soaking up everything. Bruce knew that he’d never known a place growing up that was immutable, except for the circus itself: its trailers, tents, animals, and fellow performers. The circus had gone from town-to-town and had never stayed long in one place. He was fascinated by places where people had grown up, loving Wayne Manor and always asking Alfred questions about his home in England.
Clark pulled over to the side of the road and shut off the engine. “We can stretch our legs and there’s something I’d like to show you.”
Dick scrambled out of the truck and ran through the neat rows of corn, the adults following at a more sedate pace. The day appeared golden, the autumn sun casting shadows along the road from the tall, yellow cornstalks.
“Your family has a productive farm,” Alfred said as they walked through the field, the cornstalks towering over their heads.
“We grow corn and wheat and also offer pumpkins and other vegetables for sale, and there are bushels of apples from the orchard.”
“Sounds delicious,” said Bruce.
Clark laughed. “It is!” Sunlight sparkled off his rainbow collar and manacles. “Mom’s the best cook ever, though I’d say it was a tie with you, Alfred.”
Alfred was pleased, smiling fondly at his friend. Bruce smiled, too.
“Clark what did you want to show us?” Dick called as he somersaulted.
Clark led his friends unerringly through the rows of corn, emerging into a field sprinkled with wildflowers. Trees edged the field to the east, and the road could be seen several yards to the west. The fields stretched out to the north until they hit the edge of more woods.
“It’s a lovely place,” Alfred said, shading his eyes as he gaze dove the terrain. Dick was looking at the wildflowers while Bruce looked quizzically at Clark, who smiled.
“Thank you, Alfred. It’s one of the prettiest fields on the farm.”
“Hey, Clark, this area looks grown over,” Dick said as he pulled apart some tall grass.
“What are these deep furrows in the ground?”
Clark’s smile grew broader. “It’s where my rocket landed.”
“Really? Awesome!” Dick pushed away more grass. “Yeah, this goes for a long way.”
Clark walked several yards away. “Here is where my rocket stopped, and where Mom and Dad found me.”
“Wow!” Dick ran to where Clark was standing, Bruce and Alfred following closely behind. Clark parted the tall grasses and the deep gouge could be seen.
“Wow, this is huge! How big was your rocket?” Dick asked.
“A good-sized one, big enough to hold me.” He pointed further down the field. “This is only part of the crater. It continues on down for several feet.”
Dick’s eyes were wide. “Was there a lot of smoke and fire?”
“Some, according to what my parents said. It looked pretty scary there for awhile.”
“Did your rocket come down in broad daylight?” Bruce asked.
“No, it was twilight. The stars were just beginning to come out. Mom and Dad were coming home from a Grange meeting.”
“They saw a shooting star!” Dick said excitedly.
“Exactly. And that star came down and plowed into this field.”
Dick’s eyes were shining. “I wish I could have seen that!”
“Me, too.” Clark winked as Dick laughed.
Bruce crouched down to study the ground. “Amazing,” he said softly.
Clark smiled. “C’mon, there’s more to see!”
Bruce would have loved to study the area more, but this was Clark’s show.
They all piled back into the truck. “The last of the harvest will be coming in next week. And there’s another harvest we have besides corn and wheat.”
Everyone’s eyes widened at the sight of literally hundreds of pumpkins spread out over a field.
“Wow!” Dick was suitably impressed.
“You can pick out a bunch to take back home with you.” Clark stopped the truck.
“Thanks, Clark!” Dick leaped out of the truck, running toward the pumpkin patch.
Clark, Bruce, And Alfred followed, walking amongst pumpkins of every shape and size, some pale orange, some bright orange, and some a yellowish hue. Dick looked the patch over carefully, setting aside small ‘perfect pumpkins’ and bigger ones, mixing them in with oddly-shaped pumpkins.
“You’ve got quite a collection,” observed Bruce.
“Yeah! Can we take all these back with us?”
“Sure can.” Bruce pointed to an oval pumpkin. “How about that one?”
Finally, Dick was satisfied with his haul and the adults helped him bring it all to the truck.
The final stop was at Miller’s Pond, the water sparkling in the afternoon sunlight. A crow cawed high up in the trees but it was otherwise peaceful.
“Pete and I spent quite a few hours here fishing and swimming and having picnic lunches.” Clark pointed out fish darting just under the surface of the water. “We’ll have to do some of that before we leave, too.”
“I’d like that,” Dick beamed.
They went back to the truck and once back at the house, Clark parked next to the back door.
“Before we unload, I need to show you something,” Clark said.
He led everyone to the barn. Once inside, he walked to the back behind some hay bales.
“What’s this? A trapdoor?” asked Bruce.
“That’s right. It’s a root cellar.” Clark grabbed the ring and lifted the wooden door, the hinges creaking. “Follow me.”
Curiosity afire, the rest followed Clark into the musty cellar. Something bulky was covered with an old tarpaulin, which Clark yanked off.
“The rocket!’ Dick exclaimed, eager for a closer look.
“In all its glory.” Clark’s smile was incandescent.