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The battle is done, that strange multiversal imp whose name he can't pronounce put away for good, and the others- Bat-Man, and Diana, and The Fast, all went back to their home universe a few days ago. Clark stuck around to help with the cleanup- and, Kal thinks, to follow him around incessantly and ask him all sorts of questions about his feelings, as if having Sol in his ear weren't enough to drive him crazy.
And now all there is left is for Clark to go home, too.
Clark moves through the sky with a natural ease. But as Kal follows behind him, he feels like he's sinking further and further into the ground with every passing second. How is this man- so big and bright and beautiful, so universally trusted and loved, supposed to be him? He has a whole team of people behind him, and Kal has only the cape on his back. They both lost everything, but only Kal seems to be still broken up about it. Only Kal dreams of doing things to his enemies Clark would find deplorable.
He clenches his fists, feeling bitter and jealous and sick with himself. He saw Clark fight. He can't control his powers like that. He can't even talk without Sol's guidance. He is not kind or soft or gentle. He is not a graceful fighter, or a welcome addition to any team. He is a live wire, a thousand broken moving parts trying their best not to be found.
They land on the long, secluded beach where they first met. The waves are gentle today, and the portal Clark came from swirls like water in the distance. He begins to walk towards it, and all of a sudden Kal forgets his bitterness, and instead feels like he might throw up.
"Kal, I'm glad I got to meet you."
He shakes his head, eyes wide. "Don't go."
"I'm not going just yet," says Clark, and he looks at him curiously.
"No- I can't- my world is so broken." He gasps out, and his tears betray him. "I hear children taken from their mothers every day. Every day. Dogs beaten. Bombs dropping on schools. Every year it gets harder. My world needs you."
"It has you," Clark says, like it's that simple.
A bitter laugh escapes him. He shakes his head and a tear drips down into the sand. "I can't do this. I make it worse. I'm not like you."
Clark looks at him kindly, and puts a warm, steady hand on his shoulder. Kal wants to flinch away, tell him he's wasting his time comforting him. But instead he freezes and says nothing at all.
"But you are," says Clark.
"I don't understand," Kal gasps.
"You're the strongest of us all."
"I'm damaged," Kal bites back, but his voice is soft and pathetic. "All I am is wounds."
"The people here call you an angel. A miracle. When all hope is lost they pray for you."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm saying this world doesn't need me, Kal. It needs someone who's been through all its darkness and still fights for good despite that. I can't think of a better Superman for it than you."
Kal feels his throat swell, and his breath hitches, and suddenly he's barreling through the sand and into Clark. He wraps his arms around him, and Clark embraces him in turn, warm and strong and comforting as Kal cries into him. Deep and aching sobs shudder through his body. Something in his words felt like they could be true, and this is most painful of all.
"Thank you," he says. Sol thrums behind him, wrapping around the two of them in an echo of his words, filling in the gaps where he lacks in eloquence. He feels oddly safe here. "Thank you."
"And Kal, if you ever need a hand," Clark slips a small, round device into the palm of his hand. "Just give me a call."
When they part, Kal cannot shake how much he looks like his father.

osgiliaths Tue 14 Oct 2025 03:09PM UTC
Last Edited Tue 14 Oct 2025 03:13PM UTC
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