A/N: Characters aren't mine.
"I don't just want to exist. I want to live."
"You have. Look at all you've done."
"Look at all I haven't done." He gestured with his hand, arcing out, encompassing the world. "Look at all the children afraid to go to bed at night because of the monster that crawls in with them. All the women who don't leave their homes because of what might be waiting for them on the streets. Better yet, look at all the women who want nothing but to leave home because their spouse, boyfriend, whatever rapes them and beats them. You call that having done something?"
"I call it being human. You can't save the world, John."
"Why not? Why can't I save the world?" He threw his arms up to the sky. "I want them all to be safe! Is that so much to ask for? Is it?"
"In this world, yeah, it is."
He let his arms fall to his side, let the energy seep out, leaving him tired. She was standing a few feet away, but even with the distance and the darkness, he could see the sadness on her face. Walking over, he wrapped his arms around her. "I just want them to be safe. I don't... I don't feel like I've done anything if they're not."
"I know, John. I know."
"They'll never all be safe, will they?"
"Probably not."
He looked at the stars, what few of them were visible. "Wasn't there a line in The Lion King about when kings die, they become stars?" He paused. "It's not only kings that become stars. They all become stars, so we can remember."
He was quiet then, and she was, too. After what she felt was an appropriate amount of time, she asked softly, "When did you watch The Lion King?"
A small smile. "With my nephew. He used to love that movie. Every time I went down to see my brother's family, he'd make me watch it. I guess I didn't really mind."
"He's safe."
His gaze fell from the stars to the roof and the smile disappeared. "Yeah."
"John, you're not Superman."
"Then I guess I won't really have lived until I am."