Superman in Marvel – Chapter 32: Shelter in the City
The city lights stretched endlessly before them, casting neon reflections against the car's windshield. Ethan drove in silence, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigated through the late-night streets of New York. In the passenger seat, Laura sat rigidly, her gaze locked on the passing cityscape, while the little girl slept in the back, wrapped in a blanket.
Ethan had seen many reactions to fear—panic, denial, rage. But Laura was different. She wasn't afraid. She was calculating. Wary. She had barely spoken since they left the alley.
The tension in the car was thick. He wanted to break it, but he also knew better than to push.
"You hungry?" he asked casually, eyes on the road.
Laura didn't answer immediately. She glanced at him, as if trying to gauge his intentions, before finally replying. "...No."
Ethan exhaled through his nose, glancing briefly at her hands. Her knuckles were tight, like she was ready to lash out at any second.
"You don't trust me," he stated, not as a question, but as a fact.
Laura's expression didn't change. "Should I?"
Ethan smirked slightly. "You tell me. I just saved your life."
Her jaw tightened. "I didn't ask you to."
That made Ethan chuckle softly. "Fair enough."
Silence fell between them again, but Ethan didn't mind. She was the type who needed space, needed time to feel out a situation before making a move. He respected that.
Still, she had no home, and despite her cold exterior, Ethan could see it in her eyes—the exhaustion, the burden of always running.
Eventually, they pulled up in front of a townhouse on a quieter street, away from the towering skyscrapers. The building was modest, not too big, but well-kept. A place where no one would think to look for someone like him.
"This is my place," Ethan said simply, turning off the engine. "You can stay here for now."
Laura hesitated. She glanced at the sleeping girl in the backseat, then at Ethan.
"Why?" she asked, her voice cautious.
Ethan met her eyes, unwavering. "Because you don't have anywhere else to go."
A flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe—passed through her expression before she masked it with indifference. She didn't thank him. She just nodded once and got out of the car, gently lifting the girl into her arms.
Ethan led them inside, flipping on the lights. The space was warm, lived-in. Bookshelves lined the walls, a couch sat near the fireplace, and the open kitchen smelled faintly of coffee and something sweet.
Laura scanned the place, her stance still guarded. "You live alone?"
"Yeah," Ethan replied, walking toward a small guest room. "This one's yours. The kid can sleep here, too."
Laura carried the girl inside and carefully laid her down. For the first time, Ethan saw something shift in her expression—something softer, something protective.
As she stood up, Ethan spoke. "I get it. You don't trust people. But you don't have to sleep with one eye open here. No one's coming for you tonight."
Laura met his gaze, studying him. "You don't know that."
Ethan leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "Maybe. But if they do, they'll regret it."
She didn't respond. Instead, she stepped past him, heading back toward the living room.
Ethan followed, curious. "You ever gonna tell me who those guys were?"
Laura turned, fixing him with a sharp look. "No."
Ethan raised a brow but didn't push. "Alright. Keep your secrets."
A pause.
Then, with a quiet exhale, she muttered, "Thanks… for the kid."
It wasn't much, but Ethan knew it was a start.
He watched as Laura settled into the couch, arms folded, staring out the window into the darkened city.
She didn't trust him.
But for now, she was here.
And that was enough.
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