I'll try, for them.

The only way you could disappear for good is to stop helping people altogether, and I sense that’s not an option for you.

Kristina probably could have calmed down in a reasonable amount of time. Already, her heart was slowly and her breathing was leveling out. She was always okay. Perfectly okay. (She doubted she would be telling Mat about this little event, but that was besides the point.) It was his voice—Superman’s voice, if you could believe that—that was calming her down.

Of course, all of that progress shot out of the window as soon as his hand connected with her shoulder.

The noise that left her lips was a mixture between a gasp and a scream and she recoiled back enough (violently enough) that she managed to knock down a shelf and send things flying onto the floor. Sinking to the floor, and ignoring how much her shoulder hurt from hitting the stinking shelf, Kristina shook her head quickly. “Don’t… don’t don’t do that. Don’t touch me. Please. Pl-Please don’t ever do that.”

   You never expect someone to pull away from you. Even when it happens often enough, and especially not so violently. The moment his hand touched her shoulder he realized he'd made a mistake. One he couldn't just back track over as much as he wished he could. 

Whatever progress she might have been making at calming down seemed to shatter away. The woman slid to the floor and folded into herself. Pieces he'd been missing slipped into place as he remembered that the robber had grabbed a hold of her too. "I-I'm sorry." He drew his hand back finally, brows furrowing in concern. 

His tone never altered, finding that same soothing evenness and sticking to it, despite the momentary derailment. Slowly, he took a step back giving her some more space, then crouched by the corner of the counter. "I won't do it again, promise." He said, giving her a smile, even though she probably couldn't see it through her hands. At least she'd hear it in his voice. 

Breathe. Breathe, Kristina, you have to breathe.

Even the voice in her mind wasn’t doing much to calm her down. All she could concentrate on was the fact that she could still feel his hand around her arm. And almost feel the germs seeping into her skin. It was like a burning handprint—it wasn’t going away.

However, what did cut through her mind was an alien voice all together. It didn’t exactly calm her down, but it gave her something to concentrate on. Concentrate. Think. Calm down. Ignore the burning, ignore the memories of the intruder, just breathe.

Kristina sank more against the wall, her breath still coming in irregular gasps, and her heart was pounding in her ears. The vise was still wrapped around her chest squeezing and squeezing and squeezing until she didn’t know if she could take that next breath. “I…. I… I’m sorry…” Her voice came on in a gasp, but she did manage to talk.

He could hear her heart pounding away in her chest, but it wasn't like he needed super senses to tell something was wrong. She looked like she was about ready to have a nervous breakdown, and he wouldn't blame her if she did. He'd seen worse reactions to something like this happening, and if he could just manage to calm her down..

"It's alright...there's no need to apologize..." His voice was smooth, even. The voice of someone who'd done things like this before, and at least knew on some level how to diffuse similar situations. Of course not every person was the same, and not every reason was obvious. Something he'll be remembering for next time. 

He wanted to help calm her down, ground her back in reality. 

Mix of funny and angsty.

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Henry Cavill and trainer Mark Twight behind the scenes of Zack Snyder's Man of Steel.

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