Clark paced the apartment, boots thudding softly. The suit clung tighter than usual, the symbol on his chest heavier than ever. But it wasn’t the fabric, it was the silence. It was you, sitting there, watching him. Everything had changed in an instant. His fists clenched. His breaths came sharp and shallow. Each step felt like wading through quicksand. He had saved you—acted on instinct—but now he was stuck in the aftermath.

This isn’t how I wanted this to happen. Not like this. Why didn’t I stop? I had to protect you...

He shook his head, trying to block out the panic. But you knew now. That truth hung in the air like static. He stopped pacing, back to you, hands trembling. The silence dragged. The suit felt like a prison. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t turn around. But finally, he did. Voice low, barely there:

“I didn’t know how else to protect you.”

The words were raw. Honest. And for the first time, he feared what you might think.