Bubble Boy

The stars drifted quietly beneath them as the ship hovered just above Earth's atmosphere, cloaked in silence.

Starman stood at the viewing window, arms folded, the celestial glow of his new form dimmed only slightly in the soft blue light of the planet below.

Jace approached behind him. "There's someone you should meet."

Starman didn't move. "Who?"

Jace tapped a few controls, and the ship descended, through clouds, through the quiet of a Sunday morning, until it hovered above a quiet neighborhood tucked into a peaceful suburb. Trees swayed gently. Children laughed in yards. Peace.

They floated above a small, warm house with a blue-painted porch and solar panels on the roof. Flowers bloomed in the front garden. A bubble-shaped lawn ornament glowed faintly in the grass.

Troy's house.

Starman's breath caught. "He lives here?"

Jace nodded. "With Annie. And Zoe."

The name hit harder than any blow. "Zoe," Starman whispered.

"Your granddaughter."

Without another word, they went downward, ghostlike, going through the door and into the home below.

It was quiet inside, the kind of quiet that meant safety, warmth. The kitchen smelled like pancakes. Morning cartoons played softly in the living room.

And then footsteps.

Annie stepped around the corner, holding a coffee mug, her eyes widening as she saw them standing in her hallway. She didn't scream. She didn't drop the mug.

She smiled, soft, tired, but genuine.

"Hey, Jace," she said.

"Hey, Annie."

Her eyes flicked to Starman. There was a pause. Not fear. Not anger. Just recognition.

"You didn't tell Troy?" Jace asked.

She shook her head. "No. I wanted it to be her choice." She turned slightly. "Zoe's in the living room. Drawing."

"I don't want to scare her," Starman said.

"She's stronger than you think."

Starman stepped forward. Every motion felt like it could break something. But he moved with care. Like a man learning to live again.

Zoe sat cross-legged on the floor, scribbling stars and bubbles across a page. Her curly hair bounced as she hummed to herself. When she looked up, her eyes went wide at the sight of him.

She stared. He knelt slowly, arms at his sides.

"Hello," he said gently. "My name is Starman. I… I'm your grandfather."

There was silence.

She looked at him. At his glowing scars. At the galaxies swirling in his eyes.

Then she asked, "Are you a superhero?"

He blinked, unsure how to answer.

But Annie answered for him, stepping into the room. "He's trying to be."

Zoe stood slowly. "Do you wanna see my drawing?"

Starman smiled. "I'd love to."

She held it up. A big, round figure in a bubble. A little girl on his shoulders. Stars in the sky.

"That's you," she said, pointing. "And that's me."

He took it in his hands, hands that had ended lives, destroyed cities. Hands that once trembled with rage.

Now, they held a child's drawing.

His eyes shimmered.

From the doorway, Jace watched quietly, smiling.

And in the quiet of that peaceful home, something began to heal.

Weeks Later

The days passed gently.

Starman came often, never through the door, never announced. Always just appearing in the soft glow of twilight or drifting down from the clouds when no one was looking. He and Annie had an understanding. Troy still didn't know. Not yet.

But Zoe did.

And that was enough for now.

They played in the backyard under the stars. She would climb onto his shoulders, laughing as he floated them just high enough to feel the wind in their hair. She showed him her drawings, each one more colorful and chaotic than the last. He told her stories, not of battles or pain, but of stars, of distant worlds and glowing nebulas that sang lullabies.

She called him 'Starpop' sometimes, just to make him smile.

And he did. Often.

Each visit healed a little more of what had been broken.

He began to laugh again.

He began to hope again.

One night, they sat on the roof, legs swinging off the edge. She leaned against his arm, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

"Do you think I can be a hero like my dad one day?" she asked.

Starman looked down at her, a soft ache in his chest.

"You already are," he said.

She beamed, kicking her legs a little.

Then he grew quiet.

His voice dropped lower, serious, but full of warmth.

"Zoe," he said. "If you're ever in danger… if anything ever scares you, or you feel alone…"

She looked up at him.

"You just shout 'Grandpa'. Shout it loud. I don't care where I am in the universe, I'll hear you."

Her eyes went wide. "Really?"

He nodded. "I promise. And I'll come flying faster than a comet. Okay?"

She smiled so wide it hurt his heart.

"Okay!"

They sat there for a long time after, just watching the stars.

And in that moment, for the first time in his long, haunted life...

Starman felt like he had something worth protecting again.