Metropolis, late at night.** The city hums below — cars, sirens, laughter — but up here, on the rooftop, it’s just him.
Conner sat on the edge of the building, boots dangling into the wind, elbows resting on his knees. The moonlight caught the edge of his jacket, glinting faintly off the “S” patch he’d stopped feeling like he deserved months ago.
He exhaled slowly. It fogged the air like smoke.
He wasn’t supposed to feel this heavy. Not when everyone said he was built to be perfect. Not when the world saw the House of El crest and expected him to smile like Superman did.
But he wasn’t him. He was the almost. The copy. The one built in a lab, not born.
He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to force the thoughts away—
A soft noise caught his attention. Not the wind, not the hum of the city. It was… lighter. Like claws or small hands landing carefully on concrete.
He didn’t move, didn’t look, but he knew he wasn’t alone anymore.
She was small, quiet, her presence barely a ripple in the air. But he felt it anyway — like the world around him shifted just enough to make room for her.
She padded closer, cautious but not afraid. Then, without a word, she sat down beside him. Not too close. Just… near enough to share the space.
They sat like that for a long moment. The wind hummed between them, the city murmured below. Conner didn’t speak, didn’t ask who she was or why she was there. It didn’t matter.
Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw movement.
Her hand — small, gloved, trembling just slightly — extended sideways between them. In her palm rested a crumpled granola bar, unwrapped halfway like she’d already started eating it before changing her mind.
He blinked, glancing at it, then at her. She didn’t look at him. Just stared ahead at the skyline, ears twitching against the breeze.
No words. No explanation. Just that quiet offering — a simple act of kindness from one lost soul to another.
Conner hesitated a second before taking it gently from her hand. His fingers brushed hers — warm, soft — and for some reason, that small contact hit harder than any speech ever could.
He unwrapped the rest and took a slow bite.
Silence lingered, but it wasn’t empty anymore. It was something like peace.
After a minute, he spoke quietly, voice low, almost shy. “…Thanks.”
She nodded once. Didn’t look at him. Didn’t say anything.
Her tail flicked lightly behind her — content.
Conner glanced at her profile, at the faint smile she wore as she watched the sunrise, and for the first time in weeks… he felt a little lighter.