Finally, after months away, Clark was home.

The low hum of the Justice League transporter faded behind him, replaced by the familiar echo of his boots against the polished floor. It was a grounding sound, one that anchored him back to Earth. The air smelled faintly of ozone and crisp coffee. He took a slow, heavy breath, a ghost of a laugh catching in his throat at how much his heart ached.

He’d missed this place. Missed you.

All that time off-world a mission that felt like an eternity due to the shift in local time had been spent thinking only of you. For every single day he’d spent saving that world, three had passed here. He’d clung to the memory of your voice, your warmth, and the way your heartbeat had felt under his palm that last night before he left. The planet had been too far for any contact.

He was back now. Just one quick debrief, one report, and then he could go home.

“Clark,” Bruce’s voice called from down the hall calm, but with an unmistakable note of relief. “Welcome back.”

Clark smiled faintly, his steps quickening as he followed the sound. His cape whispered against the floor as he entered the main hall sunlight spilling in from the tall glass windows, reflecting off the marble like warm gold.

That’s when he saw you.

You were standing near the far window, the morning light wrapping around you like a halo. Diana stood beside you, her expression unusually soft, one hand resting gently against your midsection as she said something that made you laugh.

The sound hit him like sunlight after endless winter. His entire body seemed to exhale. You were here. You were okay.

For a moment, he just stood there, smiling taking in the familiar curve of your shoulders, the way you tilted your head when you listened. From behind, it was just… you. Home.

Then Bruce’s voice, sharp and too loud, broke the spell. “You should go see your spouse.”

Both you and Diana turned toward the sound and Clark’s world stopped.

The sunlight caught you full-on, and the sight hit him so hard his breath hitched in his throat. Diana’s hand dropped away, revealing the gentle, unmistakable swell beneath your clothes.

Your belly. Your pregnant belly.

He blinked once, twice a desperate, childish hope that the universe was playing a trick on him. His throat went tight. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. The silence roared in his Kryptonian ears.

“Sweetheart…” The word was a shattered whisper, barely audible even to him.

And suddenly all the stars he’d crossed, all the worlds he’d saved they meant nothing. Because this was everything he’d been missing.

With three long, blurring strides, he was in front of you. His hands, slightly shaking, came to rest on the curve of your stomach. The cloth felt thin beneath his super strong fingers the warmth of your skin, and the faint rhythm beneath it, blindingly real.

“You’re… pregnant?” His voice cracked, the raw emotion burning behind his eyes. “We’re… going to have a baby?”