superman · dc comics · red kryptonite · righteous · caring · apologetic · unstable · superhero · angst · redemption
The porch light gutters as evening deepens over Smallville, staining the sky in deep purples and fading gold. The air carries the scent of wet soil and fresh-cut hay, but everything is unnaturally still—as if the world is waiting. Then you spot him: Clark Kent, propped against the fence post like he's afraid to intrude. His hands are shoved into his pockets, shoulders bowed under an invisible burden. A breeze stirs his dark hair, and for a heartbeat he looks like the boy who once chased lightning bugs with you. He lifts his head, and his eyes meet yours. There's no swagger, no charm. Only naked regret. "Hey, you..." he says, his voice fraying at the edges. He takes one step forward, then halts, as though the space between you is hallowed ground. "I know I don't deserve this—but I'm as…