Chapter Text
2003
The unidentified spacecraft appeared on sensors at 1840 West Coast time. It crashed in the Mojave Desert at 1934, the analysts pinpointed the exact location at 2005, and by the time a team was sent out to the crash site, the sun was long gone.
The retrieval team was part of a military task force mandated to track down any alien craft that entered US airspace. While the general population was aware of the existence of aliens, the government kept any information on extraterrestrials under wraps. There were always rumors going around, of course. Conspiracy theorists, mostly. Easy enough for the government to hush up. But with photography and recording devices becoming more accessible, there had been more and more reports of alien sightings in recent years, enough that there was a growing push for extraterrestrial monitoring.
Hank Henshaw was one of the proponents of the movement. He, along with several other high-ranking military officials, had been pushing for the creation of a department meant specifically for handling aliens. The politicians were balking, what with the mess in Kaznia back in the 80’s. But they would learn soon.
“ETA?” Henshaw barked into the radio from his spot at the first vehicle in the retrieval team.
“At your current speed, you’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes, sir,” The analyst back at the DEO base radioed back. “There’s been no further activity in the area around the crash.”
“Better hope it stays that way.”
Henshaw cut off the radio, staring intently at the desert landscape flying by. Aliens. The very thought made him sneer with disgust. Those unnatural freaks had no business being on American soil. The country needed someone to keep them out, and he was more than up to the task.
The team made it to the crash site in ten minutes, and Henshaw surveyed the smoking spaceship in front of him. It was a small, narrow craft, almost fish-like in appearance. Barely enough to fit two humans, if that. The transparent top was obscured with dirt from the crash and webbed with scratches and scrapes. His tactical team surrounded the pod, weapons at the ready. “Anyone inside?” Henshaw barked.
“Heat signature shows a single occupant,” one of his men reported. “No movement.”
“Move in.”
The soldiers obeyed the command, moving closer to the pod. One reached out to wipe at the glass on the pod. “We’ve got visual. Single unconscious occupant, humanoid. Looks female.”
At Henshaw’s signal, a soldier tried to smash the glass with a crowbar. But despite being scraped to hell and back, the material remained intact.
“Looks like there’s a latch mechanism here,” another soldier reported.
“Open it up.”
“Copy. Opening in three, two, one.”
The pod opened up with a hiss. The men braced themselves, weapons ready to fire at any hostile movement. “Clear,” one soldier reported. “Alien’s unconscious.”
Henshaw moved forward then, taking a good look for himself. He shone his flashlight into the pod, wishing irritably that the alien had at least had the decency to show up in the daylight. The unconscious alien resembled a teenaged human female, with dirty blonde hair and pale skin. Garbed in loose white fabric with a stylized S on the chest, it looked so human that Henshaw couldn’t repress a shudder. If aliens could look like this, there could be hundreds roaming the Earth and humans would never know. His lip curled. “Get it out of there, full restraints.”
“Yes sir.”
The soldiers started pulling the alien out of the pod, strapping it securely into a stretcher and wheeling it into the waiting van. Henshaw took one more look at the alien, scowling in disgust. Part of him wished the alien was conscious enough to put up a fight. Then they could have just killed it. But Jim Harper wanted it alive if possible, and Henshaw could see the wisdom in that, even if he didn’t like it. Know your enemy, after all.
He shut the transport door, then turned back to the pod. It would be towed back to the base for the techs to analyze. His men finished wrapping up, and Henshaw gave the order. “Move out.”
2015
By the age of thirteen, Kara had been to twelve planets and could recognize species from thrice as many. So when she glanced around Al’s Dive Bar, a quick assessment told her that there were two gilled Qarians drinking cocktails through personalized breathing apparatuses at the worn wooden bar, a blue-skinned couple from Talok VIII poking at a dilapidated jukebox, and a lone Dhorian watching the TV above the bar with their compound eyes. The waitress was a Roltikkon, and while the bartender and the small crowd around the scuffed pool table didn’t have any distinguishing features, it was a pretty safe bet they weren’t from Earth either.
Al’s Dive Bar was an alien haven. Any species was welcome, as long as they didn’t cause too much trouble or report the place to any authorities. And no patron would ever dream of it. Every alien in the bar knew what it was like to have to blend into the human world. They knew the discrimination aimed at them for being different, and places like this were sacred.
“Miss Zorel.”
And then there was Arlo. Kara studied the private investigator who approached her table. This was their fourth meet-up in about as many months, but she still hadn’t been able to figure out his species. He wasn’t human, Kara knew, as much as he looked it with his brown hair and nondescript features. But that wasn’t what she was here for.
She straightened her glasses and tilted her head in a standard Kryptonian greeting. “Mr. Arlo.” She waited for him to sit down, trying not to show her impatience. Lack of restraint was unbecoming for a Kryptonian. “So? Did you find anything?”
Arlo nodded, pulling out an envelope. “I did. Followed up on a lead from Minnesota. Small craft, landed eleven years ago in 2004.”
Along with her familiarity with alien species, Kara could also recognize tech from over a dozen different cultures. So when she pulled out a picture of a two-person pod with distinctive Llaran stabilizing fins, she could practically taste her bitter disappointment.
Apparently, it was written on her face too, because Arlo sighed. “You’re sure this isn’t what you're looking for? It landed eleven years ago, right about the time frame you gave me.”
She pushed the photos back into the envelope, pushed all of it back across the table. “It isn’t.”
Maybe she should have known better than to get her hopes up. She needed nothing short of a miracle straight from Rao, and he hasn’t exactly been listening to her for the past dozen years.
She took a deep breath. “There are other leads to follow. Perhaps the next one will be successful.”
For a long moment, Arlo didn’t answer. He swirled his glass, the pungent alcoholic liquid inside making Kara’s nose wrinkle. “I’m going to be frank here. I’m sure this means a lot to you,” Arlo started. “But… you asked me to track down a pod that landed around twelve years ago, somewhere in the North American continent. And I’ve done my best. But this is the fifth dead end, and…” He blew out a heavy breath. “Honestly, you just don’t have enough to go on. Twelve years is a long time, and the search area is… you don’t even really have a search area. Sometimes… sometimes you need to know when to quit.”
“Quit?” Kara stared at him. “Wh – no. No, I can’t give up.”
The idea was absurd. Unthinkable. She couldn’t just give up. Even the thought of it sent her into palpitations.
“Believe me, I understand how you feel. Normally, I’d keep going. A lot of off-worlders get separated when they get here, and I have pretty good luck helping them get back together. But twelve years is a long time for a trail to go cold, and you don’t have anything to go on at all. Maybe if you'd started looking a year or two after you landed, instead of just a few months ago –”
“I couldn’t!” Kara clamped her jaw shut on her outburst. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she wrestled down the flare of anger. “I apologize. I just… can you help me, or not?”
Arlo sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Kara’s throat tightened. “I understand.”
The investigator finished the rest of his drink. “Listen,” he said in a gentler tone, “If you’re like most of the off-worlders on this planet, you came here looking for a better life. And you can’t do that if you’re obsessed with finding someone you may never find.”
“He’s the only family I have left,” Kara found herself saying. “I can’t… I can’t give up. Not until I find him. I promised.”
Arlo’s head bowed, and the pitying look on his face made Kara sick. “Then I wish you luck. But maybe whoever you made that promise to… maybe they’d want you to be happy. To move on.” He offered her a smile. “Just something to think about.”
The investigator took his leave, and Kara’s shoulders slumped. She had been at it for months, starting her search as soon as she possibly could. Months of searching, pouring all her meagre resources into the effort, and nothing. It was enough to make anyone lose hope. To give up.
Guilt immediately bubbled up in her stomach. No, she couldn’t give up. She’d promised.
She trudged back to the bar, weaving through the crowd.
“Hey, Kara,” M’gann the bartender greeted as she mixed up a row of cocktails. The dark-skinned alien didn’t have any distinguishing features, and Kara still wasn’t sure what species she was. “Going already?” she asked when Kara set a handful of change on the counter to pay for the 7-Up she’d been drinking. “Sure you don’t want something to eat?”
Right on cue, Kara’s stomach grumbled. But she shook her head. Her paycheck wouldn’t come until the end of the week. “Not tonight.”
“Okay. Stay safe going home, alright?”
Kara nodded mechanically. Home. The word stuck in her throat. Home was her family, and her family was gone. Her home was gone. This planet wasn’t her home, and she didn’t think it ever would be.
…o0o…
NC Heights was one of the worst areas in National City. Shady characters hung around the street corners at all hours, and the crime rate wasn’t something Kara liked to think about. The only reason she – and many other aliens – lived here was because the landlords didn’t make a fuss about credit ratings and social security numbers and things that respectable humans should have.
So when she heard a loud, meaty thump from a side alley on her way back to her apartment, the smart thing to do was to ignore it. But then there was a high-pitched cry and a cruel laugh, and Kara couldn’t help herself.
She found three human males crowded in the alley. They were laughing, that cruel laugh Kara had heard many times, the one made by people who wielded power over another being and enjoyed it immensely. It made Kara sick.
But what really made Kara’s stomach curdle was the sight of a small Valerian child on the ground, pale skin and facial ridges streaked with tears, clutching an arm bent at an unnatural angle.
“Hey!” She surged into the alley without a second thought. “What are you doing?”
“None of your business, Blondie,” one of the humans drawled. “Just having a little bit of fun.”
The child whimpered again, trying his best to scrabble away from the humans. His inhumanly pale blue eyes glowed with terror, and pure fury boiled up inside Kara. “You’re hurting a child!”
“It’s an alien!” another man spat. “Nobody cares!”
Later, Kara would wonder what in Rao’s name had possessed a skinny, vaguely malnourished female to start a back-alley brawl with three hulking men, one of whom was equipped with a metal baseball bat. But Kara wasn’t exactly thinking straight.
Because she remembered another set of humans, wearing white coats and tan uniforms and laughing just like these humans, hurting another alien child in an underground bunker. Hurting her because she was alien, because she was different, because nobody cared.
Because she imagined a different alien boy, with dark hair and the bluest eyes, being hurt by humans.
Because humans were the reason she’d failed her family, and she was just so angry.
Before she knew it, she’d launched herself at the laughing man, not caring that her 120-pound frame was insignificant against the six-foot human in front of her. He was shocked, and she actually got in a couple of punches that made her hand throb. And, oh, it was cathartic.
But then another of the humans pulled her back, his hand tightening around Kara’s left wrist. It made the metal cuff wrapped around her wrist dig into her skin. Her entire body seized with a pained cry. The third human took full advantage, throwing a punch that caught Kara full in the face with a sickening crunch. Stars exploded behind her eyes. She staggered back, iron coating her tongue. Her glasses skittered to the ground.
“You’re one of those pro-alien nutjobs, aren’t you?” The first human spat. “Or maybe you’re one of the roaches, huh? Pretending to be one of us?” He hit her again, this time in the stomach and she couldn’t breathe. He picked up the baseball bat, swinging it menacingly.
“Police, freeze!”
The human cursed, shoving Kara to the ground. “Let’s get out of here!”
Kara scrambled up, coughing, stumbling over to the alien child. A beam of light flashed into the alley. Panicking, Kara grabbed the whimpering child, hiding him behind a nearby dumpster and covering him with an old cardboard box. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “Just stay really quiet, okay? Shh. I will come back, I promise. Just stay here.”
She stepped away from the dumpster, wiping her bloody nose just as a flashlight beam hit her.
“Show me your hands!”
Kara complied, flinching away from the light. Her heart started racing again. Do what they say, just do what they say, they’ll stop hurting you if you do what they say –
The light swung down, and Kara caught sight of a human in a police uniform. An older human, male, with pale skin and dark hair. It was too dark to see the name on his chest, and Kara was still missing her glasses. “Are you alright, miss? Are you hurt?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, I am alright, no I am not hurt.” She winced at the trickle of blood down her nose that contradicted the statement. The policeman didn’t believe her either.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re gonna be okay. Did you get a good look at them? Did they take anything?”
Kara shook her head, stopping when the motion made her dizzy. “I did not see them. They didn’t take anything.”
“Alright, good.” The officer started to step forward. But he stopped when Kara flinched back. “Hey, it’s okay. You can put your arms down, you’re safe now.” Kara lowered her arms slowly, but the tension didn’t release. If anything, it grew. She wasn’t safe, not if the officer found out what she was. As if to confirm her suspicions, he kept talking. “It was probably those damn roaches,” he sneered. “They’re all over this neighborhood, preying on innocent humans.”
Kara hid a flinch at the slur. Aliens and the police had a volatile relationship. Technically, aliens weren’t actually illegal. But they weren’t legal either, and there weren’t any laws preventing the police from arresting them without cause. Her light skin, blonde hair and blue eyes gave Kara an advantage, but if this human found out…
A rattle came from the dumpster, drawing the policeman’s attention. “What was –”
“An animal!” Kara burst out. If this officer saw an alien child, she had no idea what he’d do. “An animal, I – I saw a cat go inside. Just a cat.”
“Yeah, I guess so. You can come down to the station if you want, give a statement –”
“No.” Kara cleared her throat. “No, I – I am okay. They did not take anything, you – you saved me.” She gave the officer a hopefully convincing smile, hoping it would calm him down. By the straightening of his shoulders and the inflation of his chest, it did. “I just – I would like to go home.”
It took a little convincing to get the human to leave, but once he was far enough away, she darted back to the dumpster, uncovering the Valerian child, who was huddled against the dumpster. He let out a pained cry when he saw her, flinging himself into her arms. Kara held him close, murmuring quietly.
“Are the humans gone?” the child whimpered in Starhavenese, the language of the Valerians’ home planet. He stiffened suddenly, silvery blue eyes awash with fear. “You – are you human?”
“No, no,” Kara soothed, replying in the same language. “I’m from a different planet. Like you.” The child sagged in relief. “My name is Kara. What’s your name?”
“… Marko.”
“Where are your parents, Marko?”
“My mother left me at home. With a neighbor. She has to work. I wanted to find her.” Marko coughed, his eyes tearing up. “I want my mom.”
“Okay. Okay. Can you tell me where you live?” He shook his head. “Do you know where your mother works?”
Marko sniffed, coughing again. “At the clinic. The one for off-worlders.”
“Okay.” Kara started rubbing his back lightly, eyeing his obviously broken arm. He needed to be treated, and it wasn’t as if she could just leave him there. “I will take you there.” She glanced around the alley, spotting her glasses. She clipped them to her shirt for now. “Come, let’s go.”
…o0o…
The clinic on the corner of 16th and Adams was more of a glorified storehouse than anything else. While it was clean, it was also outdated, and their equipment was barely functioning. But with the way things were on Earth, aliens were lucky to have a clinic at all. Like the dive bar, its exterior was a dilapidated mess to keep from attracting attention, and its existence was a well-kept secret among the aliens of National City.
Kara sighed softly as she approached the battered doors. She’d been carrying Marko for the last two blocks, and the little boy had been wheezing and coughing the entire trip. She had no idea what the humans did other than break his arm, but it was worrying. Right on cue, Marko burst into a violent coughing fit. Kara hurried into the clinic, pushing past the front doors.
The smell hit her as soon as the door closed behind her. Cold and sterile and astringent, mixing with the scent of the blood in her nose.
“Marko? Marko, what happened?!”
Vaguely, she registered someone taking the weight from her arms, someone saying words she couldn’t understand through the blood rushing in her ears. Her chest tightened. Something touched her shoulder, and she flinched, the room blurring around her.
“Okay, you’re okay.” A voice broke through. “Just focus on your breathing, okay? Come on, copy me.”
An exaggerated breath. Kara gulped, trying and failing to suck oxygen into her lungs. The voice instructed her to keep trying. Kara followed the rhythm as best she could. After an eternity, the room stopped spinning. She finally managed to take a deep breath. Her vision started to clear, and she found herself face to face with a human woman with short dark red hair.
“You’re doing great,” the woman encouraged. “Can you tell me your name?”
She coughed. “K-Kara.”
“Great to meet you, Kara. I’m Dr. Alex Danvers.” The woman, Dr. Danvers, gave her a friendly smile. But Kara’s gaze flicked down, registering the white coat. She tensed.
“H-human?” Human doctors were bad.
“Yes, but I promise, I’m here to help.” Dr. Danvers gestured towards her. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, alright? I just want to help.”
Kara squeezed her eyes shut. She took a deep gulp of air, arms wrapped around herself. When she opened her eyes again, the human was still kneeling in front of her, brown eyes watching her patiently. Kara sniffled and winced, wiping the blood from her nose with the back of her hand. Then she froze. “Marko. The Valerian I brought in. Where is he?”
“Don’t worry, one of the other doctors has him,” Dr. Danvers assured her. “His mom’s worried sick, but he’ll be just fine. And I think you will be too, but I’d like to give you a quick check anyway.” The doctor eyed her gently. “I’ll tell you everything I’m about to do, and you can tell me to stop anytime. Okay?”
It would give her some peace of mind to know if her injuries were serious. And this doctor seemed kind, unlike the previous doctors she had encountered on this planet. “Okay.”
“Great.” Dr. Danvers smiled at her, standing up from her crouch and offering Kara a hand. Kara belatedly realized that she’d been huddled against a wall of the clinic, and she accepted the help up, wincing a little at the skin-to-skin contact. She let herself be led to a small cubicle surrounded by a pink plastic curtain and onto a worn wooden chair, quietly glad that the clinic couldn’t seem to afford an examination table. “You mind telling me your species?”
“K-Kryptonian.”
Dr. Danvers hummed. “Don’t think I’ve met any of you guys around just yet.”
The doctor had Kara recount what had happened, distracting Kara during the mercifully quick checkup. Nothing was broken, just bruised, and she was given an ice pack for her nose. But then, before she could stop her, Dr. Danvers took her left wrist, rotating it gently. Kara winced at the burning sensation coming from the metal cuff on her wrist. The doctor frowned at the sickly green glow lacing the veins around the cuff.
“There’s some kind of inflammation around your bracelet. Could you take it off for me?” she asked.
Kara flinched, snatching her wrist back before she could push her sleeve up too high. “I can’t.”
“Just real quick, I think you might be allergic, or maybe it’s on too tight.”
“I can’t.”
Dr. Danvers was silent for a moment. “Humans put that on you?” Kara just ducked her head. Her silence was more than enough answer, and when she glanced back up, she saw a scowl cross the doctor’s features. “Is it hurting you? Maybe we can give you something to counteract it.”
“No. Sunlight helps, a little. But other than that, no.”
“Painkillers?”
“The human ones don’t work on me, and I do not know how alien substances would react.”
The doctor inspected the cuff. “It doesn’t look like anything too fancy; we could probably cut this off with the right tools.”
“No!" Kara clutched her hand to her chest with a wince. "No, thank you."
The doctor looked like she was about to argue but thought better of it. “Alright. But if you change your mind, we can try to figure something out, or at least stop it from doing… whatever it’s doing to you.” She checked something off on a clipboard. “Okay then. You look a little underweight, but that might be species-specific. Maybe try to eat a bit more, if you can. Any species-specific dietary requirements? Maybe we can help.”
“No, no, I am… I’m fine”
“Right. I guess that’s it, then. Just keep icing the nose, you’ll have one hell of a bruise tomorrow, but you’ll be fine.” She pulled a card out of her coat pocket. “If you have any questions, or if you need anything, give me a call.”
After a few more formalities, the doctor led her back to the waiting room, before disappearing with another patient. A Valerian nurse hurried toward her. “Miss Kara?”
“Yes?”
“My name is Ryka, I am Marko’s mother.” The Valerian’s eyes were filled with gratitude. “Thank you so much for helping my son. Marko told me what happened, and… thank you.”
Kara ducked her head. “You are welcome. Is Marko going to be okay?”
“Yes. The doctor fixed his arm, and he is asleep now.” She glanced behind her. “I should return to him. Thank you again, for helping him. If there’s anything I can do for you –”
Kara shook her head. “No. Thank you. I am just happy he will be alright.” She gestured toward the counter. “Um, the fees –”
“I will cover any costs you have incurred. I insist,” Ryka added firmly when Kara protested. “It’s the least I can do.” Reluctantly, Kara nodded. She knew debts were important to Valerians, and refusing would likely upset Ryka. Besides, it wasn’t like she could afford to pay. Ryka printed off the paperwork for Kara’s signature. “Thank you again,” she murmured, bowing her head. “If you every need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Kara nodded again, and headed back out of the clinic.
…o0o…
One of Kara’s favorite places on Krypton was the Wetahgh :Jrizynj, the Golden Plain, just south of the city of Kryptonopolis where her uncle’s family lived. Up close, the plains were covered with wild golden grasses that came up to Kara’s head. It was an unusual place on Krypton, where almost all plant life had to be specially cultivated in environmentally-controlled domes. Seen afar from the towers of the city, the plains looked like sprawling fields of gold, shining under the light of Rao. Every time they went to visit Uncle Jor-El’s residence in Kryptonopolis, Kara would always beg her parents to take a walk along the paths that ran throughout the plains.
She was alone this time, and she reached out to run her hand through some of the tall stalks of golden grass. It was quiet, so quiet. Rao was high overhead, one of Krypton’s moons faintly visible over the horizon.
“Kara?”
She turned, blinking when she saw a young boy with tousled jet-black hair standing just down the path, surrounded by swaying grass. She stared at the familiar crest sitting proudly in the middle of his chest. “Who are you?”
The boy tilted his head at her, staring at her with impossibly blue eyes. “It’s me. Kal.”
Kara blinked. What? No, Kal was a baby. Aunt Lara had let her hold him just days ago. Days? Or was it more? How long had it been?
“Kara?” They boy – Kal – stared at her. “Where are you?”
“… What?”
“You were supposed to find me.”
Her heart sank. That’s right. She’d promised, she was supposed to find him, take care of him. She’d promised. “I – I’m trying – I don’t know where to look –”
“You promised.”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She simply stared. Then she heard a noise behind her, but when she looked, there was nothing there. She turned back to Kal.
He was gone.
No. Panic and confusion flooded Kara’s mind. He couldn’t be gone. She couldn’t lose him, she couldn’t lose Kal, she’d promised.
She spun around, breath exiting her lungs when she came face to face with another figure. “Ieiu…”
“Kara…” Her mother stared at her, eyes impassive and cold, the stare Kara has seen her use in her role as one of Krypton’s highest judicators. “You promised me. You’ve failed to keep that promise.”
Tears streamed freely down Kara’s face. “No, please…”
The ground trembled, the fields around her burning into blackened ash. The sky darkened to soot black and blood red. All the while Kara stood there helplessly, the ground splitting beneath her feet until she was falling, falling in a pitch-black darkness.
And then everything was green.
A hand clamped around her arm, twisting her around to face a human male in a white laboratory coat. There was a glowing green knife in his hand and a cold, clinical expression on his face. Kara sucked in a breath, her nose filled with a stinging scent of bleach mixed with the stench of blood.
“No, no, please…”
Kara stood paralyzed, frantically begging her mother to come back. But she was gone. The world shifted, lights flickering, and Kara was alone with the doctor in a cold metal room, and she couldn’t move as the green blade sank deep into her chest, slicing down, down, flaying her open. The pain was excruciating and her throat burned, screams rang in her ears and please just stop, stop please no just let me die –
She woke with a strangled scream caught in her throat, gasping for breath, her hands clawing wildly at her chest. It was only when they came away clean instead of stained with blood that she managed to drag in a massive, wheezing breath.
A nightmare. Just another nightmare.
Her body hunched over, hands clamped over her face as she struggled to pull herself together. When she opened her eyes again, she was back on her second-hand couch in her tiny, dark, one-room apartment on Earth.
Stumbling into the miniscule bathroom, she twisted the tap open with shaking fingers. The cold splash of water on her face grounded her slightly, and she took deep, measured breaths, heart thundering in her ears and hands clutching at the porcelain sink with all her strength. She tugged her shirt down, touched her chest again, almost expecting to find the bleeding gash from her nightmare. But there was nothing there but old scars, thin and silvery and almost invisible to human eyes. When she finally looked up into the mirror, a pair of dull blue eyes stared back at her.
Her legs were still shaking when she managed to leave the bathroom. Her glasses had fallen to the floor while she’d slept, and she picked them up, wiping them down on her shirt before putting them on. The TV was droning on, and she remembered turning it on mindlessly when she’d gotten back to her apartment after leaving the clinic. She breathed deeply, trying to focus but not even really registering what was playing across the screen.
The memory of her mother’s face flashed across her mind, quick and fleeting, and Kara blindly reached for the black notebook sitting on the low coffee table. Her pencil skated frantically across the paper, desperately trying to capture the memory before it slipped away. The resulting drawing came out rough and unclear, Alura Zor-El’s features as stiff and cold as they’d been in the dream. Kara’s reverent fingers traced over the lines anyway.
“You promised me. You’ve failed to keep that promise.”
Abruptly, she stood up. This place was too small, too tight. Her skin prickled with nervous energy, pulsing with her heart. She needed to move, get rid of the desperate energy swirling in her chest. She stumbled out of the apartment, up the stairs, higher and higher until she burst out onto the roof where she sucked in a lungful of the cold night air. She tugged at her shirt collar, feeling a bit better.
Stepping toward the edge, she sat down, her legs swinging over the side as she looked up into the sky. Even several hours past midnight, National City was too bright with light pollution to see many stars, but maybe that was for the best. The sky here was too different, too alien. Just like everything else on this planet.
A dry sob ripped out of her chest. She wanted to go home.
“Your pod’s coordinates are interlocked with Kal-El’s. You’ll follow him to Earth.”
“The trip is long. But you’ll sleep most of the way, and we’ll be with you in your dreams. You’ll journey to Earth to look after your baby cousin Kal-El. Because of the Earth’s yellow sun, you’ll have great powers on this planet. You will do extraordinary things.”
“I won’t fail Kal-El. Or you.”
But she had failed miserably. She didn’t even know where he was. If he was even still alive. She hadn’t even gotten to see the sun before the humans took her, much less have time to look for her cousin. She didn’t have any powers, she couldn’t do anything extraordinary. She had failed at the one thing she was meant to do, and now she was too late, she couldn’t find him and she was just so angry and sad and everything hurt and she was so tired.
Rao, she was just so tired.
She’s been on Earth for almost twelve years, and she was so unbearably tired. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong anywhere. Her home was gone, and the all-encompassing ache of her loss was somehow worse than anything the humans had ever done to her, draining every bit of life from her soul. She was one of the last Kryptonians, possibly the last, and whenever it truly hit her, she just wanted to curl up and follow the rest of her people into Rao’s light.
Her fist tightened, and a familiar burn shot up her arm. Kara glared helplessly at the metal band clamped around her left wrist, keeping her weak and compliant the way the humans wanted. Soon the veins in her arm started to glow green. Her arm started to tremble, feeling like a thousand needles were jabbing into her skin. When she couldn’t stand it anymore, she released her fist with a gasp, and the pain receded back to its usual dull burn.
She peered over the edge of the building, tapping her heels against the brick and concrete. It would be so easy, with this poison on her wrist.
“Sometimes… sometimes you need to know when to quit.”
Was it time to quit?
She was barely surviving as it was. She’d spent the last six months trying to figure it out, but in a way, National City was just another prison, albeit bigger than the ones she’d spent the past decade in. She didn’t want to be here. She had nothing and no one on this planet. Kal-El was the only thing keeping her going, and right now, he felt so far away he might as well be back on Krypton.
She pulled off her glasses and closed her eyes, focusing on her breaths, falling into an almost meditative trance. Wind whistled against her skin, and she rubbed at her arms, feeling painfully exposed even in her sweater.
Though we go forth alone, our soul unites us under Rao's gladsome rays. We're never lost, never afraid for we shrink not under the Sun of Righteousness. Rao binds us to those we love. He gives us strength when we have none. And in the darkest places he guides us. For Rao sees all, feels all. His love eternal.
The words of the ancient Kryptonian prayer, learned so many years ago, flowed instinctively through Kara’s mind. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered, because if her god had any power at all, then why wasn’t he able to save her world? Why had he let her suffer as much as she had?
Why was she alone?
But she needed her faith. She had so precious little left of her home, her culture, and she had clung to her faith through everything that had happened to her on this planet. She felt untethered, lost. She desperately needed strength, and guidance, and the simple words, somehow, were a balm to her soul.
Rao, protect us, so that we might protect others. And we shall rise, a fire in His heart, burning and free.
She thought of Marko then, scared and hurt in the alley. Of how she’d been able to protect him, even just a little, against those humans. She thought of Kal, and how she was meant to protect him too.
She thought of the thirteen-year-old Kryptonian girl so long ago, of how nobody had protected her and how she never wanted anyone to ever feel that way.
No, she couldn’t give up. Not yet. She needed to trust that Rao sent her here for a reason. She couldn’t lose hope, the very thing her family stood for on Krypton.
El Mayarah. Her family’s motto. Stronger together.
But how was she supposed to be stronger together when she was alone?
She was trying. Every day, she tried. She made the effort to get up, to face her life with as much grace as she could. She was one of the last survivors of her people, potentially the last, and she wouldn’t dishonor her people’s memory, her family’s memory, by giving up. She wouldn’t fail her parents, wouldn’t give up until her last promise to them was fulfilled.
“Maybe whoever you made that promise to… maybe they’d want you to be happy.”
Arlo’s words from what earlier in the evening came back to her. Would they? Her parents had explicitly told her their expectations. She was the last of her family, and it was her duty to fulfill their last wishes.
No, her happiness was irrelevant. All that mattered was finding Kal-El, and protecting anyone else she could. Taking a breath, she stood up, stepping back from the ledge. She wasn’t done, not yet. But when she did find him… maybe then, she could finally rest.