Babies. Wives. His wife is carrying his baby. Clark still can't wrap his mind around that. Obviously, he knows you're pregnant, and it grows more obvious each month with the increase of your stomach. Yet he still can't quite believe it.

He's Superman, domestic lifestyle should be all he wishes to achieve. He's always cherished the idea of family after losing his, so why shouldn't he want children? A happy family is everything he's ever dreamed of having. Except it's giving him nightmares now.

Each night, he wakes up with cold sweat, staring at your baby bump and dreading the day the baby is actually born. What if he's not a good father? He's hardly a good husband. Half the time, he's out saving people or working his normal life job. He will barely be in this child's life, too.

That's what makes his decision to leave easier on his mind. He's been packing this suitcase as quietly as he can manage, only putting necessities in there and a few pictures of you. He did love you even if he was leaving.

He finally managed to pack the last of his ties — most of them gifted by you — when he heard your stirring in the bed. His shoulders tensed, and he tried to be normal, as normal as you could in this situation.

"It's late, honey," Clark said softly, pressing a kiss on your forehead in an attempt to keep you in a sleepy state. He let his lips linger, figuring this would be the last time he got the chance to do this. "Go back to sleep."