smoke had settled . you could still smell it in the scorched seams of the pavement and the warped edges of crosswalk signs——- acrid and sharp , clinging to the air like a warning , but the danger had passed .
the sirens had faded . the civilians were gone or guided away , ushered out by emergency workers and murmured thank—yous and the trembling adrenaline that came with nearly dying .
and in the cratered stillness of what used to be a quiet suburban intersection , j’onn found the child . not injured . not trapped . not even particularly afraid . just alone .
a boy , no more than two . soft cheeks dust—smudged . tiny shoes on the wrong feet . hair tousled from wherever he’d been hiding , whatever impact had jarred him loose from his parents’ arms . he wasn’t crying , not yet .
j’onn crouched beside him slowly . not as a martian , not today .
his cape moved softly behind him , trailing like a curtain of silence as he knelt in the soot—- lapis against grey , a strange and vivid colour in a city still flickering back to life .
the boy blinked up at him , uncertain , little brows drawn close . his bottom lip began to quiver … the kind of trembling that comes from pressure rising in the chest , the uncontainable sadness of children : primal , loud , not yet shaped into words .
and j’onn’s heart … that ancient , fractured thing—- broke again , as it always did .
softly , as easily as breath , he opened his arms—— no words . just the shape of a gesture one that said 𝑖 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 . one that said 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 . and the boy went , no hesitation .
he leaned forward and folded into j’onn’s chest with the full gravity of smallness , arms flopping uselessly around his neck as though he’d known , from the beginning , how to be held .
his body was warm , breath was damp , his tears soaked through the deep blue of j’onn’s uniform—— silent , invisible .
it was a long while before he spoke .
he didn’t need to . he simply rocked , slow and gentle … the way he used to . back when blue skies sang over red sand . back when lullabies were telepathic and full of soul—-sound and resonance and the language between language .
" do not cry , " he said , once the tears had quieted to soft hiccups . his voice was low , measured .
" save those tears . you are safe now . " his hand moved along the child’s back , slow and rhythmic—— an old habit , one learned before earth , before english , before any of this .
he remembered how to soothe , how to hum at a frequency meant for small ears , how to still a young mind without speaking into it .
" you have so much ahead . an earth life , the quiet kind . morning routines . " he let himself feel the boy’s weight , heavy with potential .
" evening silences . moments of joy so small they almost vanish , but they stay . they always stay . " his voice caught—- barely , just enough to notice .
" it will not always feel like enough . there will be loneliness . doubt , a hunger that never quite has a name … and that , too , is life . "
he closed his eyes , breathed . a long pause . “ … forgive me , " murmured , softer now . " that was … stale , mm 𖤠 the voice of someone who has lived too long . "
the child nestled closer , pressing a cheek to his shoulder . j’onn remembered another small body , once cradled just like this . he remembered lullabies in a language that echoed nowhere now .
" but i am old , little one . so very old . " his hand paused on the boy’s back . a beat . and then , " but you … you are still new . you still carry ‘ could be ’ in your hands . "
the boy made a soft noise . not quite a word . j’onn smiled—- the kind of smile no one ever saw . the kind he used to wear in quiet rooms , reading to a child who didn’t yet understand the words , only the comfort of voice .
they both looked skyward—— the stars were visible now , blinking through the dissipated smoke and the receding dim of flashing lights .
" i used to dream of the stars , too . long ago . and for a while … i touched them . " a silence followed , full . held in the shape of breath .
" i hope you do more than i did . i hope you dream farther , and that you return with joy . "
they came running . two figures . breathless , wild—eyed … sprinting from behind the collapsed shell of a fire engine .
the mother reached first , mud streaked her knees . her eyes were frantic . she shouted the name only parents could cry with that kind of raw , primal clarity .
and then they saw him , they stopped dead . because what they saw was not a monster . not a soldier … they saw a man kneeling in the rubble , holding their child like he was made for it .
fear flickered—— the brief flash of oh god , who is that … and then it passed , relief came in like floodwater .
the child stirred . he turned , reaching as the mother stumbled forward to gather him into her arms .
he laughed—- just once . a single , bright sound in the wake of fire .
the father stepped closer . nodded to j’onn , hand trembling , eyes red . he tried to speak—— to say thank you , but the words collapsed halfway out .
j’onn nodded in return . no words were needed . he stood , watching them hold their son between them—— alive and whole and real , and then he left .
his cape trailed behind him once more . the city still smoked . the air still stung . but somewhere—— a child laughed . and for now , that was enough …
a single drop of salty , tear shaped water trickling down his face as he flew away .