She’s handing me the world: a world where Superwoman doesn’t exist, a world without my father, a world where we live in Mexico and Hudson is my little house girl, a world where nothing stands in our way.
Where nothing stands in my way.
It’s ironic because, there’s not a single part of me that wants that world anymore.
I feel... wrong inside.
And all of her confessions, and all of her tears can’t put Humpty Dumpty back together again.
Maybe I am crazy.
Maybe there’s just something fundamentally wrong with me, a manufacturer’s defect or something. Because who wouldn’t want this? Who wouldn’t want to know that they’ve won? After all the fighting and all the pain and all the misery and all the sacrifice, to know that you’ve been victorious in the end, isn’t that what it’s all about?
Winning at all costs?
Like this has all been some kind of game. Hudson. The Joker. My father. My hand.
All a game that I can win or lose.
It makes me sick.
“I don’t know what I want anymore.” Sighing, I still my hand against the nape of her neck, stroking the skin there with my thumb.
That’s not strictly true. I’d like to turn back the clock a few years and kick my own ass. I should never have sicced Cadmus Labs on Hudson. I knew what she was, had for years, but having her dubious origins thrown in my face by my father before she could muster the courage to tell me herself had been like waiving a red flag in front of a bull.
It fucking pissed me off.
And it scared the shit out of me, too.
I knew what my father was.
Hudson’s quiet now, except for the occasional shudder and miserable sniff. I empathize with how she feels. “I just wish...”
“I don’t know. That things had been... different.”
She laughs slightly, rubbing her cheek against my pants. “God knows, I wish that every damn day of my life.”
Wishing that she’d never been sent here, no doubt. Wishing that she’d died in space or on Krypton with the rest of her people. But where would Earth be without Superwoman? Where would I be without Hudson Kent? Take either one of them out of the picture, and it’s a frightening thought.
Squeezing her neck, I scowl at the back of her head when I feel the flesh barely give. “I wish I’d done things differently.”
Her head pops up off my lap like it’s attached to a spring, my hand sliding off her neck along the way. I can tell that my words have thrown her. In truth, they’ve thrown me as well. Speaking my thoughts doesn’t exactly come easy to me, at least not since I was a child. That’s something I learned fast living with my father’s watchful gaze and acute hearing. The fastest way to get myself into trouble was to speak my mind without editing my thoughts along the way.
“Hush.” I cover her mouth with my hand, cutting off her words. “Just listen, Angel.”
What was I going to say again?
“You didn’t become Superwoman because of me - you were already Superwoman when I met you. I’d be dead if you weren’t.” Her forehead wrinkles in response and I can tell she wants to jump in. “I’m not done yet. The cape, the costume, they’re just window dressing.”
She leans back, pulling away from my hand. “But-”
“I mean it!” Hudson jumps slightly at my raised voice, her eyes like dinner plates, and lips sealed tightly together. “You’re the same person now that you were then, Hudson Kent. I just don’t like the idea of sharing you with the world.”
I talk over her, completely ignoring her words. “You’re supposed to save me, damn it. Even if I don’t deserve it.”
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