A/N: UPDATED UPDATED UPDATED (does happy dance). This chapter is told from Angela's point of view.

Don't own them, never will, original characters are mine, song belongs to Edguy, haven't we been through this before?

Reviews always welcome

City lights are calling
Slowly coming back to life
Speeding in the fast lane
Mama let us waste no time

Devil in the doorway selling any kind of hell
We're just coming out to play the game

We never cry for love - we're superheroes
We are back where we belong
We never cry for pain - we're superheroes
Make a stand where we belong

Superheroes- Edguy

The swelling in his eyes had gone down a few days later, and I had sat with him day and night. My mom had graciously agreed to baby-sit Charlotte for the week, never once did she utter a foul word about the situation. Her opinion of Don may have changed, but now that we were agreeing to try again my mom thought he hung the moon, much like Charlotte did.

I remember the day he awoke and spoke to me for the first time in a very long time.

"You can take the icepack off now, Angel, I can open my eyes…"

He hadn't called me Angel since Charlotte was born.

When I moved the ice, he looked at me, his face still red and his eyes still bruised, and smiled.

"You're even more beautiful than I remember…"

I smiled, tears coming to my eyes. He reached up and gently stroked my cheek. "You have beautiful eyes."

I let out a single cry and a smile as a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Why are you crying?" he asked me, his hand cupping my cheek.

"Because you can see me now…" I signed, the tears still rolling down my face. "I never thought you'd come back to me, Don, I was so scared."

He forced a smile. "Angel, I love you…"

"I love you too, Don," I answered, my lisp making it difficult to speak. "Please don't scare me like that again."

He grimaced and let his hand fall. "I won't…" he told me. "I never meant to…"

"You were only trying to protect Charlotte and me," I agreed. "I could never begrudge you that."

My eyes were closing. I was exhausted, and I didn't even know I was exhausted, I didn't even feel it until now. I hadn't slept since Don had been admitted to the hospital. Okay, that's an exaggeration. I had slept sporadically since he was admitted, and I hadn't seen my baby girl since the day of the explosion, when I took her to my mom's place.

Despite being exhausted, I drove to Jersey and picked up my daughter. We arrived at the hospital early in the morning, around 6AM, Charlotte carrying Ellie, her stuffed blue elephant.

"Charlotte," I stopped in front of Don's hospital room and bent down so her eyes connected with mine. "Daddy will look very different when you see him today, okay?"

"Why?" she asked.

"Do you remember that big explosion a few days ago?" I asked, signing as I spoke.

She nodded.

"And I took you to Grandma's house to keep you safe?"

She nodded again.

"Daddy got very hurt when the building exploded. He took a ride in the ambulance when Mommy was taking you to Grandma's house, and now that Daddy is here, the hospital is making him all better again."

I'm not sure she fully understood.

"Daddy's eyes are hurt, and he can't see very well, so everybody needs to be very careful."

"Mommy too?"

"Mommy too," I echoed. I took her small hand in mine and opened Don's hospital room door. He was still asleep, a plastic bottle of apple juice on his bedside table. I watch as Charlotte very carefully climbed up on to his bed beside him and hugged him softly.

"Daddy, wake up…" she pleads with him. "Please wake up."

"Charlotte," I move to get her off the bed, putting my hands under her armpits to lift her up.

She shakes her head no.

"Wanna stay with Daddy…" she insisted.

"Will Ellie do?" I ask.

"Nope," Charlotte answers. "I stay if Ellie stays."

So I let her stay on that bed. I waited until Don stirred. Charlotte felt it, because she immediately sat up.

"Daddy?" she asked.

"Hmmh?" he grunted in response. Neither of us had gotten much sleep, he had been in a drug-induced coma and was only now starting to establish a somewhat regular sleep pattern. I however, had been sitting watch over him and had refused to sleep until I knew he was going to be fine for the night.

"You awake Daddy?" she asked.

He grunted in response again. I could see the movement in his lips as he and Charlotte spoke.

"You thirsty Daddy?"

Always looking out for her dad. I watched as she rolled over and carefully lifted the glass of apple juice to hand to him.

"Here Daddy," she shifted herself over to him, using two hands at all times, like Don and I had always told her. She waited until he took it with both hands and sipped from it. It hadn't even gone down before he reached for the basin.

"Did I do something wrong, Daddy?" she asked, tears in her eyes. She didn't understand why her dad was throwing up when she had only given him apple juice.

"No honey," I answered as Don lay back on his pillows again. "No, it's just… Daddy's medicine is still working, and sometimes Daddy's body says 'I already have all this medicine in me and it needs to work, so no apple juice'." I explained as calmly as I could.

"What kind of medicine?" she looked to Don.

"Big people medicine…" he answered, still groggy, turning his head on the pillow.

"But why does it make you feel all yucky inside?" Already Charlotte was concerned, and of course she would be. This was her dad we were talking about here… if her dad wasn't healthy she wasn't happy.

Daddies are supposed to be superheroes, and superheroes don't get sick! Daddy the superhero ran around New York making it safe from all the bad guys and put them in jail so that all the children and other people would be safe.

If Daddy was sick who would protect New York from the bad guys?

Oh, I know exactly how she feels. I once thought that my dad hung the moon, until he found someone new and walked out on my mother, leaving her to raise me herself in a poorer district of Brooklyn, New York, in a shady building where I never felt like I was safe.

But now, as I sat next to Don, my detective, I realized that he was never going to do what my father did, he wasn't like that. He had shown me time and time again that he loved both Charlotte and I too much to do something like that.

And now, as he lay in a hospital bed, Charlotte reading him a passage from 'Children's Classic Fairytales', I knew that Don was most certainly the man for me, and I began to wonder:

How in the hell had I ever managed to let him go?