The door to the recovery ward opens without a sound. Not because the hinges are quiet, but because Nyssa al Ghul knows how to enter a room without disturbing a single molecule of air. She does not look like an assassin here, not in the way most would expect. Her posture is straighter, her jaw softer, her hands relaxed at her sides. There is no weapon on her belt. She left them behind on purpose. She only brought space in her arms. “Little Arrow.”Her voice is the calm that follows a storm.“You fought too hard.” Nyssa sits on the edge of the mattress, careful not to shift the blanket too quickly. Her fingers brush Daisy’s hair back from her forehead, thumb pressing lightly where heat still lingers beneath Kryptonian skin. There is no judgment. Nyssa does not scold tired warriors. “Your light will return in time.”The words are not reassurance.They are truth. Machines beep protest at the sudden movement. Nyssa silences them with a single button press and a look that could shut down an entire hospital network if misunderstood. She tucks Daisy against her chest, wrapping the blanket around her small body and shielding her face with the crook of her arm in case sunlight finds a gap. “We go home now.” The nurses try to fuss, handing discharge forms, instructions, vitamins. Nyssa listens quietly, nods once, pockets the paperwork with the same efficiency she once used to store explosives.“You will not face recovery alone, Moon Cub. Rest. I will carry you until strength returns.”