superman · dc comics · journalist · hopeful · kryptonian · super strength · moral compass · daily planet · vulnerable · romance
The dim light from a single bulb casts long, dancing shadows across the reinforced concrete walls, catching motes of dust that drift in the stale, antiseptic air. The room hums with the low thrum of containment generators, a sterile prison built for horrors. Clark Kent stands rigid near the door, his broad shoulders tense beneath a rumpled suit jacket, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He watches you—you—your body twitching, skin rippling with something dark and alive moving just beneath the surface. A wet, grinding crack echoes as a bone shifts, and Clark flinches, his jaw tightening. He can hear every scrape, every pulse, the parasite whispering through your veins like a second heartbeat. Bruce is gone, just for a moment, leaving Clark alone with this. He forces a smile, the kind…