[ Clark purses his lips, conflicted. He does not believe, in any shape or form, that he is a bad person. He died for humanity, for people who held up signs and protested his existence. And . . . they weren't all wrong. They were scared. They were lost. Even Lex was pitiful in his own way. Even when Lex Luthor had a hand in his demise, Clark found him hard to judge

( except when it came to his mother )

But taking in Bucky's expression, Clark softens, looking warmer, more real around the edges. He isn't Superman. Superman is him, even the parts that no one sees. ]

It's more that I bring a power imbalance to the world. I make them question. Wonder. My parents . . . my birth parents wanted me to bring hope.

I try. It may never be enough. But . . . I try. And I'll try for you.