Disclaimer: All recognisable characters are property of DC Comics, December 3rd Productions and Warner Bros.
Author's note: This is melancholy and some people may find it a bit confronting. Sorry.
-------------------------------------
It's a wild night in Metropolis.
A monster storm- an unseasonal hurricane- is brewing off the coast, bringing with it torrential rain, high winds and flash flooding. So far tonight I've rescued people that drove into floodwaters, pulled teenagers out of an overflowing stormwater drain and righted a capsized yacht that was no match for the seas it sailed into.
That's not why I'm sitting on this rooftop in the driving rain, soaked to the skin. The rain is cascading over me, plastering my cape to my back, but the rain isn't the only moisture on my face.
While I was rescuing people from the consequences of their own folly, I missed something much more important.
I heard the shots, but by then it was too late.
Too late to save a mother and her two young sons. Too late to stop their murderous father from turning the gun on himself.
Every time I think I've seen the worst of humanity, something happens to challenge that belief.
Slowly I drag myself to my feet and scrape the sodden hair back out of my face. I can't stay here. People need me. And if I keep going, I won't dwell on the rescue I missed.
Lois tells me that I can't be everywhere. That what I can do makes a difference.
My presence in Metropolis didn't make a difference to the young mother who died trying to shield her sons. It doesn't make a difference to the hundreds of thousands of people who are hurt or killed by the ones they trusted most.
Some difference.
