That very night, a storm arrived without warning.
Rain lashed violently against the Parker house windows.
Thunder exploded in the ears of anyone still awake, and every flash of lightning turned the boys’ room as bright as day.
Peter Parker spent the entire night trapped in nightmares, his forehead drenched in sweat.
One moment, he dreamed that his parents’ car was swallowed by a massive whale.
The next, he was falling into a bottomless ocean abyss.
Curled beneath his blanket, his small body trembled uncontrollably.
Clark lay in the bed beside him.
But he wasn’t asleep.
Even if he tried, he couldn’t.
He could hear every twitch of Peter’s body—every fragmented, fear-filled murmur slipping from his lips.
He understood what this was.
The beginning of trauma.
If left alone, this fear would take root in Peter’s subconscious and follow him for life.
Clark quietly climbed out of bed.
He walked to Peter’s side and looked down at his tear-streaked face, his heart tightening with sympathy.
It reminded him of his previous life.
Back then, when he was just an ordinary teenager, he had also lain awake at night, unable to sleep because of family turmoil.
He had wished—more than anything—that someone would sit beside him and tell him, “It’ll all pass.”
But no one ever did.
Now—
He had become that person.
Clark didn’t wake Peter.
He knew that forcibly interrupting a nightmare would only deepen the fear.
Instead, he gently reached out and held Peter’s small hand.
Then, he tried something he had never done before.
He focused.
Carefully guiding the energy within him—the warmth born from his Kryptonian blood, nourished by the yellow sun—he let it flow out in the faintest trickle, like a small stream, passing through their joined hands into Peter’s body.
It was warm.
Gentle.
Like sunlight.
It couldn’t heal injuries or grant strength—
But it could soothe fear.
Steady the mind.
In Clark’s perception, Peter’s rapid heartbeat slowly calmed.
His tightly furrowed brows relaxed.
His breathing evened out.
The frightened whispers stopped.
Peter turned over, and the faintest hint of a smile appeared on his lips—as if he had finally escaped the nightmare and entered a peaceful dream.
Clark let out a quiet breath and withdrew his hand.
Just as he turned to return to bed—
Something went wrong.
Perhaps it was the strain from focusing too intensely.
Or the thunder outside, loud enough to shake the house, breaking his concentration.
As he turned, he accidentally bumped into the nightstand.
And the camera—Richard Parker’s last gift to Peter—slipped from the edge.
Clack—
It fell.
Clark’s heart lurched.
He knew how much that camera meant to Peter. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
It was the last thing his parents had left behind.
His body reacted before his mind could catch up.
In that fraction of a second—
He did something unbelievable.
He didn’t reach out to catch it.
Instead—
He exhaled.
A soft breath.
But it wasn’t ordinary air.
It was his first use of super breath.
Not strong enough to freeze anything—but precise, controlled.
A cushion of air formed beneath the falling camera.
Just centimeters above the floor—
It stopped.
Defying gravity.
Then, like a feather, it was gently lifted and guided back into Clark’s waiting hand.
Not a single sound.
Clark stared at the camera, his heart pounding violently.
Cold sweat broke across his back.
He had almost destroyed the most precious thing his brother had.
Carefully, he placed it deeper onto the nightstand, making sure it wouldn’t fall again.
Then he hurried back to his bed.
Outside, thunder still roared.
And inside that camera—
Hidden within its sturdy casing, inside a tiny film compartment—
Lay Richard Parker’s life’s work.
A new formula for the Super Soldier Serum.
And a list—
A secret list of agents within S.H.I.E.L.D.
who had been infiltrated by HYDRA.
A month after Richard and Mary left, the Parker household avoided mentioning them entirely.
They were afraid it would reopen Peter’s wounds.
And yet…
At the dinner table, an extra pair of plates would sometimes appear—placed there unconsciously by May.
Each time, she would freeze, realize what she’d done, and quietly put them away.
Ben, meanwhile, would occasionally ask around at the newspaper, searching for any trace of news—any sign that his brother might still be alive.
Peter often held onto the camera.
But he was no longer as lively as before.
The brightness in him had dimmed.
Clark, on the other hand, observed quietly.
He knew simple comfort wasn’t enough.
Peter needed something else—
A passion.
An outlet.
Something that could pull him out of grief.
But it had to be something Peter discovered himself.
Clark would only guide him.
Clark “accidentally” knocked over a small box in the attic.
The box spilled open, scattering a pile of Clark’s old favorites across the floor—comic books like Superman and Batman.
But those weren’t the real focus.
Mixed in among them were science magazines.
That was the point.
This was Clark’s plan—simple, a little clumsy, but effective enough for a child.
Looking at the mess on the floor, Clark put on a very unconvincing act, scratching his head and groaning, “Oh no… this is bad.
If Mom sees this, she’s definitely going to kick my butt…”
Right on cue, Peter Parker wandered over.
Clark suppressed a grin.
“Hey, Peter, can you help me out?”
Peter nodded without hesitation and crouched down to start picking things up.
The two of them began sorting through the attic together.
Clark casually flipped through a Superman comic, while deliberately leaving the science magazines in a neat, noticeable pile off to the side.
And it worked.
Peter’s attention was quickly drawn to one of them—
“What’s in the Universe?”
He carefully opened it.
Inside were pages filled with constellations, galaxies, black holes, and planets—paired with stunning images captured by the Hubble Space Telescope.
“This is… the Andromeda Galaxy,” Peter read softly, pointing at one of the pages.
For the first time in a long while—
There was light in his eyes again.
Pure curiosity.
A hunger to understand.
“Yeah.
Pretty cool, right?” Clark leaned in, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.
“You know, Ben says every star in the sky could be like our sun.
And around them… there might be planets just like Earth.”
He paused, then added more quietly,
“He also said… maybe the people we love didn’t really leave.
Maybe they just went to another star… watching us from far, far away.”
After that day, everyone in the house noticed the change.
Peter had found something new.
He loved astronomy.
One evening, Ben came home with a brand-new telescope.
Together, they set it up, and Peter eagerly began exploring the night sky.
Sometimes, he would excitedly call Clark and the others over, pointing out what he had seen—describing stars, planets, and distant galaxies in vivid detail.
Clark would smile and nod.
He didn’t need a telescope.
Even now, he could already see far more than the lens ever could—and as he grew, as the sun continued to strengthen him, his vision would only become sharper.
The universe in his eyes was thousands of times more magnificent than what Peter saw.
But he never showed it.
Instead, he listened patiently as Peter described the stars in his childish, earnest way.
Every now and then, Clark would ask a deliberately “dumb” question—giving Peter the chance to puff up with pride and explain things like a little teacher.
And under those quiet, starlit nights—
Peter began to change.
He spoke more.
He smiled again.
Slowly, gently—
The light returned to him.