When Clark entered the nursery he went straight for the crib. His daughter was in a deep sleep and as much as he didn't want to disturb her, he needed to hold her.

Images from the night flashed before his eyes. Destruction. Screaming. Crying. He had gotten there as fast as he could, traveling halfway around the globe after an earthquake hit an island in the Pacific. Yet, he couldn't save everyone. As he helped dig in the ruins, that's when he saw them. A father holding his child in his arms. He tried to get them medical attention. It was too late for the father, but the young son, a toddler, was responding. He didn't know his fate, however. He had to move on. It was triage.

He held his daughter in his arms tightly. Tears streamed down his face as he rocked her. She was still asleep, thankfully. He composed himself enough to get to the rocking chair. And he just held her. Knowing what it would feel like to want to protect her. To give everything, even his life, so she could live. He thought of his own father, both of them. The sacrifices they made. He would do anything and everything, but he also never wanted to leave her. It was a fear that rippled through him.

There were nights where he felt fulfilled in his role as Superman. Where he understood his destiny. Then there were nights he wanted to just crawl under the covers at home and hold his wife and daughter and hide them away from the cruelties of the world. He did what he did to make the world safer for them, but sometimes the "super" waned and all that was left was just "man". A man who loved his wife and daughter more than anything. The most important things in his life

He continued to rock as his mind sorted itself out. He needed to decompress. He had listened to The General talk about returning home after being in combat, how he had to train his mind. The images were filed away, deep in the caverns. He focused on the good. Witnessing citizens helping one another. Reuniting family members. Clearing a path in the rubble for emergency vehicles. Helping restore lines of power to the hospitals. A.C. and Mera arrived and took over as they calmed the waters to prevent further damage. These were the good things.

He looked down at the sleeping baby, her face nestled into the S shield on his chest. Hope. That's what it stood for. That's what she was. Hope and a miracle. He listened to her heart beating, something he did every night. It joined with his own. He placed a kiss gently on her forehead and sat up from the chair. He brought her back to the crib and laid her back down.

He took a breath, watching her once more. She was so small and didn't know the large impact she had on him.

He exited the room and quietly entered the ensuite bathroom of the master bedroom. He stood in front of the mirror, studying the face of the man staring back. Dirt was caked in his wavy dark hair. Soot marred his face. There was a rip in his cape on his right shoulder.

He held the edges of the sink and sighed.

Suddenly, a pair of hands covered his and he saw a figure move behind him.

He wasn't alone.

Slowly the fasteners of the cape came undone. Once it was removed, it was neatly folded and put on the lid of the toilet. Next was the zipper to the top half of his suit. It fell down with ease, the hands working their way to peel the material from his sticky skin and pushing it down. The hands took his shoulders and swung him around gracefully. He was no longer staring into the lost eyes in the mirror. He was staring into the eyes of his wife. He was found.

Lois continued to undress him, her fingers gliding over him with care. His boots were kicked to the side with a light thud. Then the lower half of his suit disappeared.

She guided him to the shower, turning the hot water on and letting it steam up. She pulled off her nightgown, her state now matching his. She walked into the stall first and pulled him in behind her. Their hands were clasped together as they stood off to the side and let the water keep running. She soon removed her hands from his grasp and found the shampoo, squeezing out a liberal amount. She stood on her tippy toes and he bowed his head down to make it easier for her.

Her palms landed on the top of his head, massaging into his scalp. She was diligent but kind in her efforts. She then pulled him closer to the water to wash the shampoo out, continuing the delightful motions as her fingertips pressed into his skin. He closed his eyes as she continued.

He was still tense and she could feel it. She placed a kiss on his left cheek, then his right. Her lips then dropped to his. It was a chaste kiss. It was reassuring. She was here now.

He opened his eyes to see her soaping up the body sponge. Again she was delicate as she washed him down. She moved around him and placed a kiss in the middle of his muscular back. When her lips met his skin the tension started to melt away.

As the water ran down his body he was cleansed. Mind, body, and soul.

He heard her put the sponge back on the tray. Then her arms enveloped him from behind, giving him a squeeze and clasping together over the front of his torso.

His hands met hers, cupping over them. She placed her forehead on his upper back and could hear her breathing. His breathing was then in tune with hers.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Then he achieved it. Comfort. In her arms. Her strength boosting his own. Hearts beating as one Whenever he fell, she was there to lift him back up. She was his pair of wings. Fitted just for him. He couldn't fly without her.

There were no words. There didn't need to be any. It was just the sound of the running water.

They stood there, letting the aftereffects of the outside world wash away and escape down the drain.

Inside, it was just them. Recovering. Finding comfort in love. Rebuilding. To be ready to face another day.

Together.