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Chapter Text

The Fortress of Solitude was silent, its crystalline halls bathed in an icy glow. Kara Zor-El’s voice, sharp and furious, shattered the stillness.

“You knew about him. You knew about Conner, and you did nothing.”

Clark Kent stood a few feet away, his arms crossed, his usually calm demeanor cracking under the weight of Kara’s anger. “Kara, I didn’t—”

“Don’t you dare say you didn’t know,” she interrupted, stepping closer. Her hands trembled at her sides, her blue eyes blazing. “You knew he was out there, Clark. He’s a Kryptonian. He’s your son.”

Clark’s expression hardened. “He’s not my son,” he said, his frustration bubbling over. “He’s a clone, Kara. He’s not even fully Kryptonian. He’s half human. And not just human—he’s half Luthor.”

From behind them, the sound of a sharp intake of breath broke the tension. They turned to see Conner standing at the entrance of the chamber, his blue eyes wide and filled with disbelief. His hands were clenched into fists, his body rigid as he stared at Clark.

Kara’s heart sank. “Conner,” she said softly, taking a step toward him, but he shook his head and backed away.

“So that’s what you think of me,” Conner said, his voice low and trembling with barely contained anger. “Not just a clone. Not just a mistake. But a Luthor first and a person second.”

Clark looked away, guilt flashing across his face. “Conner, it’s not that simple—”

“Stop,” Conner snapped, his voice breaking. “Don’t act like you care. I heard you.” He turned and stormed out of the room, his shoulders stiff and his movements heavy with anger.

“Conner, wait!” Kara called after him, but the door slammed shut behind him.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Kara turned back to Clark, her voice trembling with fury.

“You knew he was there. He heard everything.”

“Kara—”

“No,” she cut him off, her tone like steel. “How could you? How could you look at him and see nothing but his genetics? He’s not just Kryptonian, and he’s not just human. He’s a person, Clark. A person who’s been abandoned, just like I was when I came to Earth.”

Clark’s face darkened. “This isn’t the same. You had a family—”

“Did I?” Kara’s voice cracked under the weight of her emotions. “I woke up on a strange planet, grieving Krypton, desperate for the one family member I had left. And what did you do? You pushed me away. You said you were too busy to help me, too busy playing human. And now you’ve done the same thing to him.”

Clark opened his mouth to respond, but Kara didn’t give him the chance.

“You know what the real problem is?” she said, her voice dropping dangerously low. “You’re more human than Kryptonian, Clark. And that’s fine. That’s your choice. But just because you’ve rejected your heritage doesn’t mean Conner has to. You don’t get to decide that for him.”

“Kara, I—”

“Save it,” she snapped, shaking her head. “I forgave you for what you did to me, Clark. For abandoning me when I needed you most. But this? This, I can’t forgive. Not yet. You left him out there alone when you should have been the one to guide him. I won’t let history repeat itself. Not with Conner.”

She turned on her heel and walked toward the exit. Just before she reached the door, she glanced back over her shoulder. “You’re not the only Kryptonian left, Clark. Start acting like it.”

Outside, Kara found Conner sitting on a jagged piece of ice, staring out into the frozen wasteland.

“Conner,” she said gently as she approached him.

“Don’t,” he muttered, not looking at her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” she said quietly, sitting down beside him. They sat in silence, the cold wind biting at them as it swirled around the snow.

Finally, Kara spoke. “You’re not a mistake, Conner. You’re not just a clone or a Luthor. You’re you. And that’s enough.”

Conner turned to look at her, his expression guarded. “Why do you care?”

Kara smiled sadly, her voice soft but steady. “Because I know what it feels like to be abandoned. To feel like you don’t belong anywhere. And I’m not going to let you go through that alone.”

Conner studied her for a moment, then gave a small nod. “Okay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” Kara echoed, a small smile tugging at her lips. She stood and held out her hand. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

As they flew away, the weight of Kara’s own grief settled heavily in her chest. Taking in Conner wouldn’t just be about helping him heal. It would mean confronting her own long-buried pain—her anger, her loneliness, and her loss.

But as she glanced over at Conner, who flew beside her with hesitant yet growing confidence, she knew one thing for certain. They would face it together.

Chapter Text

National City buzzed with life as Kara and Conner landed on the balcony of her apartment. Conner hesitated, glancing over the edge of the balcony at the city below. The sound of cars honking and distant chatter filtered up through the noise of the wind.

“This is... where you live?” he asked, his voice low, almost disbelieving.

“Yep,” Kara said, opening the sliding glass door and stepping inside. “It’s not the Fortress of Solitude, but it’s cozy.”

Conner followed slowly, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his posture stiff. His eyes darted around the apartment, taking in the shelves lined with books, photos, and Kryptonian artifacts Kara had scattered throughout. There were small touches of her life everywhere—framed pictures of her and Alex, mementos from her time at CatCo, and even a few trinkets that seemed alien but comforting.

Kara turned and gave him a soft smile. “It’s not much, but it’s home. And it’s yours now too.”

Conner didn’t respond immediately. His eyes landed on a framed photograph of Kara and Alex, the two of them laughing together on a beach. He frowned slightly.

“Is something wrong?” Kara asked, stepping closer.

“It’s just... weird,” he admitted. “I’ve never had a place that felt... personal. Even at Mount Justice, it’s all business. Missions, training... but nothing like this.”

Kara felt a pang in her chest. “You don’t have to feel that way here. This isn’t just a base or a training ground. It’s home. You’re safe here.”

The door suddenly swung open, and Alex stepped inside, balancing a box of pizza in one hand and a bag of takeout in the other. “Kara, I brought food! Hope you didn’t—oh.”

She stopped in her tracks, her eyes landing on Conner. For a moment, Alex looked between him and Kara, her brows raising. Then she broke into a grin.

“So, you’re Conner,” Alex said, walking over to set the food on the counter. “Kara told me all about you.”

Conner shifted awkwardly. “She did?”

“Of course,” Alex said. “She said you’re family now. And if she says you’re family, you’re family.”

“Family?” Conner repeated, disbelief clear in his tone.

Kara stepped in, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “That’s right. You’re not alone anymore, Conner. Not while I’m around. And Alex is pretty great too, so you’re lucky.”

Alex chuckled. “You’re lucky she’s here to vouch for me. Otherwise, I’d probably have scared you off by now.”

Conner managed a small smile, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t fully ease.

They sat down at the table to eat, with Alex keeping the conversation light. She asked about Conner’s interests and told a few embarrassing stories about Kara’s early days on Earth. By the time they were halfway through the pizza, Conner found himself laughing quietly at Alex’s recounting of Kara’s disastrous attempt at making pancakes.

“You put the syrup in the batter?” Conner asked, raising an eyebrow at Kara.

“I thought it would save time!” Kara defended, though her cheeks turned red.

Later that evening, Lena arrived, carrying a small gift bag. She greeted Kara with a brief hug before turning to Conner. Her expression softened when she saw him.

“You must be Conner,” Lena said, her voice gentle.

Conner stiffened slightly. “And you’re a Luthor.”

Lena nodded, her expression calm. “Yes, I am. And you probably have every reason to hate that name. But I’m not my brother, Conner. I hope you’ll give me the chance to prove that to you.”

Kara stepped in, her tone reassuring. “Lena’s one of the good ones, Conner. She’s my best friend. And she’s probably smarter than all of us combined.”

Lena smirked. “No pressure, right?” She reached into her bag and pulled out a sleek device. “This is a portable holographic projector. I thought it might help you learn about Krypton. Kara can teach you, but visuals always help.”

Conner hesitated before taking the device. “Thanks,” he said, his voice quiet.

As the evening progressed, Conner sat on the couch with Alex and Lena, listening as they shared stories about Kara. He was surprised to learn how awkward she had been when she first arrived on Earth. Hearing about her struggles made her seem more... human.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Conner laughed—a small, hesitant sound, but genuine.

Kara watched from the kitchen, her heart swelling. She wasn’t just helping Conner; she was healing too.

Later, as Conner busied himself with the holographic projector, Alex caught Kara’s eye and gestured toward the balcony. Kara followed her outside, sliding the door shut behind them.

The cool night air brushed against her skin as Alex leaned on the railing. “You holding up okay?” Alex asked.

Kara tilted her head. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

Alex arched an eyebrow. “Kara, come on. You’re taking in a teenager, dealing with Clark’s mess, and probably working through your own feelings about all of this. Don’t give me the ‘I’m fine’ line.”

Kara sighed, her shoulders slumping. “It’s... a lot. Seeing how much Clark’s actions have hurt Conner—it’s brought up things I thought I’d moved past. Like when Clark left me on my own when I first got here.”

Alex placed a hand on Kara’s shoulder. “That’s a lot to deal with, but you don’t have to handle it alone. I’m here, and so is Lena. You’re doing an amazing job, but you have to let yourself feel all of this too.”

Kara looked inside at Conner. “I just want him to feel like he belongs.”

“And he will,” Alex said. “Because he’s got you.”

Chapter Text

The halls of Mount Justice were quieter than Kara expected as she and Conner walked inside. Conner led the way, but his movements were deliberate, like he wasn’t sure how this meeting would go. Kara could feel the tension radiating off him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It’s going to be fine,” she said softly. “They’re your team. They care about you.”

Conner nodded but didn’t respond.

When they entered the main room, the Young Justice team was already gathered. Kaldur'ahm stood at the center, discussing tactics with Artemis and Megan. Wally lounged on the couch, tossing a ball in the air.

“Kara,” Conner said, clearing his throat. “This is the team.”

All eyes turned to them.

“Supergirl,” Kaldur greeted, stepping forward with a polite nod. “Welcome to Mount Justice. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Kaldur,” Kara replied with a warm smile. “And all of you.”

Wally zipped over in a blur, his green eyes wide with curiosity. “Supergirl? Like, *the* Supergirl? Clark’s cousin? What are you doing here?”

“She’s my mom now,” Conner said bluntly.

The room fell silent.

Artemis blinked, her bow lowering slightly. “Wait. What?”

“I adopted him,” Kara explained, stepping forward and placing a hand on Conner’s shoulder. Her voice was calm but firm. “Conner deserves a family. He didn’t have one before, but he does now.”

Megan’s expression softened, and she floated closer. “That’s... wonderful, Conner. You’ve always deserved someone who sees how amazing you are.”

“Yeah,” Artemis said after a moment. “That’s... good. Really good.”

Wally scratched the back of his head, looking between Conner and Kara. “So, wait. Supergirl is your mom now? Like, officially?”

“Yes,” Conner replied, his tone steady. “She’s... been there for me when no one else was.”

The sincerity in his voice seemed to dissolve the tension. Megan smiled warmly, and Kaldur stepped forward again.

“Conner, you have always been a valued member of this team,” Kaldur said. “If this brings you peace and happiness, then I am glad for you.”

Wally grinned. “Yeah, man. And hey, now we’ve got a Kryptonian connection on speed dial. How cool is that?”

Kara chuckled. “I think I’ll leave the speed to you, Wally.”

The group laughed, and the atmosphere lightened. Kara felt a wave of relief as they began to settle into casual conversation.

---

As the afternoon progressed, Kara found herself sitting with Megan and Artemis while Wally, Kaldur, and Conner sparred in the training room. The two young women were eager to know more about Kara’s relationship with Conner.

“He’s... different with you,” Megan said thoughtfully. “Happier. More confident.”

Kara’s smile was bittersweet. “It’s going to take time. He’s been through a lot. But he’s stronger than he realizes.”

Artemis leaned back, studying Kara. “And what about you? How are you handling this? Taking in a kid—not just any kid, but Conner—it can’t be easy.”

Kara hesitated, her gaze drifting to where Conner was sparring with Wally. “It’s not. But I know what it feels like to lose everything. To feel like you don’t belong. I couldn’t let him go through that alone.”

Megan reached out, placing a gentle hand on Kara’s arm. “You’re a good mom, Kara. Conner’s lucky to have you.”

---

Later, Barry Allen and Oliver Queen arrived at Mount Justice, their arrival marked by Barry’s usual energetic enthusiasm.

“Kara!” Barry called out, pulling her into a bear hug before she could say a word. “What’s this I hear about you adopting Conner? You’re full of surprises.”

“Not everything is a surprise, Barry,” Kara said with a laugh.

Oliver smirked, crossing his arms. “From what I hear, you’re doing Superman’s job better than he ever could.”

Kara tensed but forced herself to relax. “I’m just doing what I can to help.”

“And you’re doing it well,” Barry said. “You know, Kara, the Justice League could use someone like you. Someone with heart, not just strength.”

Kara raised an eyebrow. “The League?”

“Don’t look so surprised,” Oliver said. “You’ve got what it takes. Clark’s not the only Kryptonian who can make a difference, you know.”

Kara glanced at Conner, who was now sitting with Wally and Artemis, laughing at some joke. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally.

---

As they flew back to National City that evening, Conner broke the silence. “They like you.”

Kara glanced over at him. “Your team?”

“Yeah. They trust you. That’s not easy.”

“They trust you too,” Kara said. “They’re your family in a way, just like I am. Don’t forget that.”

Conner was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Do you think... it’ll ever feel normal? Having a family?”

Kara’s chest tightened, but she forced herself to smile. “It might take time, but yes. You deserve a family, Conner. And I’ll remind you of that every day if I have to.”

For the first time in a long while, Conner felt a sense of peace. He wasn’t just a weapon or a project anymore. He was part of something bigger—a team, a family, and a future that finally felt like his.

Chapter Text

Kara stood at the edge of the Justice League’s meeting room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The Watchtower was awe-inspiring, with its towering walls of glass and steel and the vast expanse of space visible outside. But despite the breathtaking view, she couldn’t shake the tension twisting in her gut. Barry Allen and Oliver Queen stood on either side of her, looking more like proud older brothers than the seasoned heroes they were.

“Kara, relax,” Barry said, nudging her lightly. “You’ve already saved the world a dozen times. Joining the League is just the official title for what you’ve already been doing.”

Oliver smirked. “Plus, you’ll get to work with me more. That’s got to be a perk.”

Kara rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “I just... I don’t know if this is the right place for me.”

Barry frowned. “Why not?”

Kara hesitated, glancing toward the table where Clark sat, deep in conversation with Diana. “It’s not the League,” she admitted quietly. “It’s him.”

Oliver and Barry exchanged a look. They both knew about her strained relationship with Clark, though Kara hadn’t gone into much detail.

“You’re not doing this for him,” Barry said gently. “You’re doing it for Conner, for yourself, and for the people you can help. Don’t let Clark hold you back from that.”

Kara sighed but nodded. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

The meeting room loomed before her as she followed Barry and Oliver to the table. She could feel Clark’s gaze on her, but she kept her eyes forward. Diana, Bruce, and Arthur looked up as she approached, their expressions ranging from curiosity to guarded interest.

Diana was the first to greet her, stepping forward with a warm smile and an extended hand. “Welcome, Kara. It’s an honor to finally meet you. Barry and Oliver have spoken highly of your work.”

“Thank you,” Kara replied, shaking her hand. “It’s an honor to meet you too.”

Bruce’s sharp voice cut through the moment. “You’re Kal-El’s cousin.”

Kara turned to face him, meeting his piercing gaze head-on. “That’s right.”

“I’ve read your file,” he said. “Impressive. But files only tell part of the story.”

Her jaw tightened slightly. “What would you like to know?”

Bruce leaned back slightly, a faint smirk on his lips. “I’ll see how you handle yourself in the field.”

Arthur grinned, breaking the tension. “Don’t mind him. He’s like that with everyone. It’s nice to meet you, Supergirl. Barry and Oliver wouldn’t shut up about how great you are.”

Kara chuckled softly. “Thanks. I’m glad to be here.”

Clark, who had been silent until now, cleared his throat. “Kara’s proven herself capable. I trust she’ll be an asset to the League.”

The neutral tone of his voice made her stomach churn, but she forced herself to nod. This wasn’t the time or place for a confrontation.

Diana’s perceptive eyes lingered on them for a moment before she redirected the conversation. “Kara, we’re excited to have you join us. Barry and Oliver mentioned you’ve been doing incredible work in National City.”

“I’ve had a lot of help,” Kara said modestly. “My team at the DEO, my sister Alex, and... my family.”

Diana smiled warmly. “It sounds like you’ve built a strong support system. That will serve you well here.”

“Supergirl,” Bruce interjected, his tone brisk. “Are you ready for the field?”

Kara straightened her posture. “Yes, Batman. I am.”

“Good,” he replied. “We’ll see what you can do soon enough.”

---

Their first mission together came quickly: shutting down an alien smuggling ring. It seemed straightforward, but the team’s dynamics added layers of complexity. Kara found herself stepping up when the original plan fell apart, rallying the team and coordinating their efforts.

Afterward, Bruce approached her, his usual stoic expression replaced with a faint hint of approval. “You handled that well,” he said. “Not everyone can think that quickly on the field.”

“Thanks,” Kara replied. She hesitated before adding, “It’s not easy, working with him.”

Bruce gave her a rare, understanding nod. “I know the feeling.”

---

Before Kara’s first mission with the League, she made sure to spend time with Conner. The two found themselves at a quiet park near her apartment, sitting on a bench with a bag of takeout balanced between them.

“This is weird,” Conner admitted, picking at his fries.

“What is?” Kara asked, unwrapping her sandwich.

“Having someone... care,” he said after a pause. “Not just check in to make sure I’m not breaking anything, but actually care.”

Kara set her food down and turned to face him fully. “Conner, I do care. You’re not just some responsibility or project to me. You’re family.”

He looked down at his lap, his shoulders tense. “Sometimes I don’t feel like I deserve it.”

“Hey.” Kara’s voice was firm but gentle. She reached out, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You deserve all of it. And more. Clark... he doesn’t define your worth. You’re not just his shadow or his mistake. You’re you, and that’s more than enough.”

Conner swallowed hard, nodding. “Thanks, Kara.”

“Anytime,” she said softly. “Now, eat your fries before I steal them.”

He laughed, the tension easing from his frame as they slipped into easy conversation about nothing and everything.

---

When Kara left for missions, Conner alternated between time at Mount Justice with Young Justice and visiting Wayne Manor. Bruce had invited him, and though hesitant at first, Kara encouraged him to go.

“The Batfamily understands complicated families better than most,” she’d said.

At the manor, Conner bonded with each member of the chaotic family in unique ways. He sparred with Cassandra and Helena, learned chess strategies from Tim, and traded jokes with Dick about their Young Justice days. Even Jason seemed to tolerate him, which felt like a victory.

Selina Kyle, Bruce’s wife, observed his integration with a knowing smile. “You fit in well here,” she told him one evening. “But don’t let them boss you around too much. Especially Damian.”

From across the room, Damian scoffed. “I don’t boss anyone around.”

“You boss everyone around,” Dick countered, earning laughter from the group.

---

Meanwhile, back in National City, Cat and Lena stepped into more prominent roles in Kara and Conner’s lives. They shared meals, quiet evenings, and long conversations.

One evening, Kara came home to find Conner and Carter on the balcony with Carter’s telescope. Conner patiently explained constellations, his voice warm and unhurried.

“They’ve been like that for hours,” Lena said, stepping up beside Kara.

Cat, lounging on the couch with a glass of wine, added, “Carter’s thrilled to have an older brother figure. And Conner...” She paused, her expression softening. “He seems happy.”

Kara’s heart swelled as she watched them, feeling the pieces of their family fall into place.

Chapter Text

The Watchtower was unusually quiet as Kara walked through its halls. Her latest mission with the Justice League had gone smoothly, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Every time she left Conner behind, the weight of his past crept into her mind. Sixteen weeks—just four months of life, most of which had been spent as a science project, a puppet controlled by others. No real memories. No childhood. Just fragmented, implanted knowledge and a deep, lingering ache for something more.

Back in National City, Kara’s apartment was filled with the warm smell of freshly baked cookies. Eliza Danvers had stopped by, and Conner greeted her cautiously at the door.

“Hi, Conner,” Eliza said with a warm smile, holding out a plate. “These are for you. Kara and Alex used to love them.”

“Thank you,” Conner replied, hesitating for a moment before taking one. He nibbled on it quietly, unsure how to handle this stranger’s kindness.

Eliza settled onto the couch, giving him space. “You know, when Kara first came to live with us, she was just as reserved. It took her a while to feel at home, but that’s okay. We had time.”

Conner glanced at her, unsure of what to say. “Kara’s... done a lot for me,” he admitted softly.

Eliza’s smile deepened. “And she cares about you a great deal. So do I. You’re part of this family now, Conner.”

---

When Kara returned from her mission, she was greeted by the sound of laughter coming from the living room. She stepped inside to find her mother and Conner talking, a stack of cookies on the coffee table between them.

“Mom,” Kara greeted, a mix of surprise and gratitude in her voice.

“Kara!” Eliza stood, pulling her daughter into a hug. “How was the mission?”

“Fine,” Kara said, her gaze flickering to Conner. “How’s everything here?”

Eliza smiled knowingly. “We’ve been getting to know each other. Conner’s quite the young man.”

Conner flushed at the praise, mumbling a quiet “thanks.”

Later, as the evening wound down, Kara and Conner sat on the balcony under the stars. “You okay?” she asked, noticing his thoughtful expression.

“Your mom’s... nice,” Conner said after a pause.

Kara smiled. “She is. And she meant what she said—you’re part of this family now, Conner.”

He nodded but didn’t respond immediately. After a moment, he said, “It’s weird... thinking about family. I didn’t really know what that was before.”

Kara placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You do now,” she said gently.

---

Over the next few days, Eliza stayed, subtly helping Kara and Conner adjust to their new normal. One afternoon, while Conner was reading a book Lena had recommended, Eliza and Kara prepared lunch together.

“He reminds me of you,” Eliza said, her voice low. “The way he observes everything, trying to figure out where he fits.”

Kara sighed. “I see it too. I just... I want him to feel like he belongs, but sometimes I’m afraid I’m not doing enough.”

Eliza rested a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “You’re doing more than enough, Kara. You’re giving him love, patience, and a home. That’s all anyone can ask for.”

Kara nodded, her resolve strengthening.

Before Eliza left, she pulled Conner aside. “You’re doing great,” she said gently. “And you don’t have to figure everything out right away. Just know that Kara and I are here for you.”

Conner looked at her, his voice quiet but sincere. “Thanks.”

---

A few nights later, Kara found herself alone with Conner in the apartment. Carter and Cat had gone home, and Lena was still at L-Corp. The two of them sat on the couch, flipping through an old photo album.

“This is you?” Conner asked, holding up a picture of teenage Kara and Alex, roller skates strapped to their feet.

“Yep,” Kara said with a laugh. “That was right after Alex convinced me to try skating. I fell. A lot.”

Conner chuckled softly before growing quiet. “It’s weird,” he admitted, tracing the edge of the photo. “You have all these memories... all these moments. I don’t have anything like that.”

Kara’s chest tightened. “Conner...”

“It’s like I don’t even have a real past,” he continued. “Just... pieces of other people. It makes me feel like I’m not real.”

Kara pulled him into a hug, her voice firm but gentle. “You’re not just pieces, Conner. You’re your own person. And you’re real to me. You belong here—with me, with this family. We’ll make new memories together, ones that are yours.”

He held onto her tightly. “Thanks, Kara.”

---

The next morning, Conner packed a bag to visit the Batfamily at Wayne Manor. Kara watched him with a smile.

“You like it there, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yeah. They’re... different. But it’s nice,” Conner said. “Dick’s cool, and Tim keeps trying to beat me at chess.”

“Does he?”

“Not yet.”

Kara laughed. “Well, tell them I said hi. And don’t let Damian intimidate you.”

Conner smirked. “I’m not scared of Damian.”

As he headed out, Kara felt a swell of pride. Conner was finding his place, little by little.

---

That evening, Kara invited Lena and Cat over for dinner. Carter and Conner spent most of the night in Carter’s room, building models and debating superhero trivia. Meanwhile, the three women lounged in the living room.

“You’re a natural,” Cat said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“At what?” Kara asked.

“Parenting,” Cat replied. “Conner’s lucky to have you.”

Lena nodded. “It’s true. He’s come so far in such a short time, and that’s because of you, Kara.”

“I just hope I’m doing enough,” Kara admitted.

Cat leaned forward, her voice serious. “You are. And we’re here—for you and for Conner. Whatever you need.”

Kara looked at them, her heart full. “Thank you.”

As the evening wound down, Kara couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, she was building something truly special.

Chapter Text

The crystalline walls of the Fortress of Solitude hummed faintly as Kara guided Conner through its vast chambers. The space felt alive, a monument to a lost world that Kara had tried so hard to preserve. For her, the Fortress was a place of solace—a tether to Krypton and the family she had lost. For Conner, it was an introduction to a legacy he was only beginning to understand.

“This is where I come when I need to feel close to Krypton,” Kara said softly, gesturing to the glowing structures around them. “It’s not the same as being there, but it helps.”

Conner followed her, his steps hesitant as he took in the alien beauty of the Fortress. “It’s... incredible,” he said, his voice filled with awe. But after a moment, he added, “And a little overwhelming.”

Kara turned to him with a gentle smile, resting a hand on his shoulder. “That’s okay. Krypton is part of you, Conner, but it doesn’t have to define you. You get to decide what this all means for you, and you don’t have to figure it out all at once.”

Conner nodded, though his expression remained thoughtful. “Thanks, Kara. For showing me this.”

“Always,” she said.

---

At the Fortress’s central console, Kara activated a sequence of holograms. A projection of Krypton appeared, spinning slowly in midair. Towering cities floated above lush landscapes, their architecture glowing softly in the dim light.

“This is Argo City,” Kara said, pointing to a section of the hologram. “My home. My parents worked in the Science Guild here, studying ways to improve our planet’s core stability. My father, Zor-El, and my mother, Alura, were some of Krypton’s most brilliant scientists.”

Conner stared at the hologram, his brow furrowed in concentration. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured.

“It was,” Kara replied, her voice tinged with sadness. “Our people accomplished so much—technology, art, governance—but we also made mistakes. Mistakes that cost us everything.”

The hologram shifted, showing Kryptonian glyphs and crests. Kara pointed to one in particular, its intricate design glowing brighter than the others.

“This is the crest of the House of El,” she said.

Conner tilted his head. “Your family?”

“Yes,” Kara said. She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “A long time ago, the House of El ruled Krypton. We were part of Krypton’s royal lineage, but my ancestors gave up the throne, believing that power should be shared, not hoarded. Even after stepping down, my family remained influential, contributing to science, governance, and culture.”

Conner blinked, clearly surprised. “You’re saying... we’re royalty?”

Kara smiled faintly. “Not anymore. But the legacy is still there. The House of El stood for hope, for progress, and for protecting others. That’s what our crest means—hope. And that’s what I want you to take from this, Conner. Not the weight of the past, but the hope for a better future.”

Conner stared at the crest for a long moment. “It’s a lot to take in,” he admitted. “But... I think I get it. It’s not about living up to what they were—it’s about choosing what to be.”

Kara’s smile grew. “Exactly.”

---

The sound of footsteps echoed through the Fortress, and Kara turned to see Lena entering, bundled in a heavy coat. She paused, looking around the shimmering chamber with wide eyes.

“You weren’t exaggerating,” Lena said, her breath visible in the cold air. “This place is... incredible.”

Kara grinned, walking over to greet her. “I thought you’d appreciate it. Conner and I are exploring some Kryptonian history. Want to join us?”

“Absolutely,” Lena said, stepping closer to the hologram. “I’d love to learn more about where you come from.”

Kara guided them through the Fortress, showing Lena artifacts from Krypton’s past—scientific tools, cultural relics, and more projections of Kryptonian landscapes. Lena was fascinated, asking thoughtful questions about the science and history behind each item.

At one point, she turned to Conner. “What do you think of all this?”

Conner hesitated, his gaze lingering on the crest of the House of El. “It’s... a lot,” he said. “But it’s also kind of amazing. I didn’t think I’d ever feel connected to something like this.”

Kara smiled softly. “You’re not alone in this, Conner. You have us.”

Lena placed a hand on Conner’s shoulder, offering him an encouraging smile. “And you’re doing great.”

---

Back in National City, Kara and Lena returned to the apartment to find Cat and Carter waiting for them. Carter was on the couch, flipping through a book about space, his face lighting up when he saw Kara.

“Kara, did you know that Krypton had three moons?” Carter asked excitedly.

Kara laughed, glancing at Cat. “I did. Where did you learn that?”

“Mom and I looked it up!” Carter said proudly.

Kara raised an eyebrow at Cat, who shrugged with a smirk. “He was curious. And, well, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be informed about my favorite Kryptonian.”

Kara’s throat tightened with emotion. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Cat waved her off, though her smile softened. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, darling. I just like to be prepared.”

---

Later that night, Kara found Conner sitting on the balcony, gazing up at the stars. She joined him, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

“It’s still a lot, isn’t it?” she asked gently.

Conner nodded. “Yeah. Krypton, the House of El... all of it. But it’s also kind of nice. Like I’m starting to figure out where I belong.”

Kara smiled, her heart swelling with pride. “You’re not just figuring it out, Conner. You’re building it. And you’re not alone.”

He looked at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, Kara. For all of this. For... making me part of it.”

“Always,” she said, pulling him into a side hug.

For the first time in his life, Conner felt like he wasn’t just a collection of pieces—he was part of something whole.

Chapter Text

The Justice League meeting room was a symphony of murmurs as members filtered in, settling into their usual seats. Kara sat stiffly near the end of the table, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes burned with an intensity that betrayed the storm of emotions brewing beneath her calm exterior. Across the table, Clark sat, chatting casually with Diana, as though everything was fine. As though his neglect hadn’t left a scar across two lives.

Diana’s perceptive gaze shifted toward Kara, sensing her unease. “Kara, you seem troubled. Is something wrong?”

Kara hesitated for only a moment before standing. Her fingers gripped the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles turned white. The murmurs ceased, and all eyes turned to her.

“There is something I need to say,” she began, her voice steady but carrying a razor-sharp edge. “This isn’t about a mission. It’s personal. And it’s long overdue.”

Clark turned to her, a slight frown forming. “Kara, what are you talking about?”

She fixed him with a cold, unwavering stare. “You. I’m talking about you, Clark. About how you failed us. How you failed me and Conner in ways that I can’t even begin to describe.”

---

The silence was deafening as her words hung in the air. Kara didn’t falter, letting her anger and grief fuel her.

“When I came to Earth, I didn’t know this world. I didn’t understand its languages, its people, its customs. I didn’t even know how to control my powers,” she said, her voice rising with each word. “I was scared, lost, and alone. And where were you? You decided I wasn’t your responsibility. You left me to fend for myself while you played hero.”

Clark’s mouth opened, but no words came out. The guilt on his face only deepened Kara’s anger.

“But it wasn’t just me, was it?” she continued, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and hurt. “You did it again—to Conner. A boy who didn’t ask to be created, a boy who had no memories, no past, no sense of who he was. He needed someone to guide him, to help him find his place in this world. And you? You ignored him. You treated him like a mistake. Like he didn’t matter.”

Barry’s eyes widened, his expression one of disbelief. Oliver crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. Diana’s gaze darted to Clark, her disappointment palpable.

“Kara,” Clark began weakly, but she cut him off.

“No,” she snapped, her voice sharp as a blade. “Don’t try to justify it. Don’t tell me you were too busy or that you didn’t know how to handle it. You didn’t even try. You rejected your Kryptonian heritage, and that’s your choice. But you don’t get to decide that Conner has to suffer because of your cowardice.”

---

The door opened suddenly, and Conner stepped inside. He had been waiting outside, listening to every word. His face was tense, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Clark,” he said, his voice steady but filled with barely restrained emotion. “Why?”

Clark turned to him, guilt etched into every line of his face. “Conner, I—”

“No excuses,” Conner interrupted, his voice rising. “I spent my first sixteen weeks of life as a science experiment. I was a puppet, controlled by people who saw me as nothing more than a tool. And when I finally got free, when I finally had a chance to figure out who I was, you made me feel like I didn’t matter. Like I was defective. Like I didn’t deserve to exist.”

Clark’s face crumpled. “That wasn’t what I meant—”

“But it’s what you did,” Conner shot back, his voice shaking. “Kara stepped up when you wouldn’t. She’s the reason I have a family now. She’s the reason I’m not still wondering if I even deserve to be here. Not you. Never you.”

---

The room was silent, the weight of Conner’s words sinking into the hearts of everyone present. Diana broke the silence, her voice quiet but firm. “Clark... is this true?”

Clark’s mouth opened, but Bruce was the one who spoke. “It doesn’t matter if he thinks it’s true,” he said coldly. “His actions speak for themselves. Or rather, his inaction.”

Barry shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “Clark, you’re Superman. You’re supposed to inspire hope, not... whatever this is.”

Oliver scoffed. “The irony here is almost funny. You preach about saving everyone, and yet you couldn’t even show up for your own family. That’s pathetic.”

Clark flinched as though Oliver’s words had struck him physically.

---

Kara stepped forward, her gaze burning with righteous fury. “You’re more human than Kryptonian, Clark. You’ve rejected everything about where we come from. That’s your choice, but you don’t get to project that onto us. You don’t get to make us feel like we don’t belong because you’re too scared to face your heritage.

“You failed me, but I survived. I forgave you for that, even though you didn’t deserve it. But you failed Conner, and I will never forgive you for that. You don’t deserve it.”

Clark’s shoulders slumped, the weight of her words pressing down on him.

Kara turned to the rest of the League, her voice steady but filled with conviction. “I didn’t bring this up for pity or attention. I brought it up because it needed to be said. If we’re going to work as a team, we need to hold each other accountable. No exceptions. Not even for Superman.”

Bruce gave her a small nod of approval, while Diana’s expression was one of quiet solidarity. Barry and Oliver both stood, walking over to place a comforting hand on Kara’s shoulder.

“You’ve got us,” Barry said softly.

“Always,” Oliver added.

Kara nodded, her resolve unshaken. For the first time in a long time, she felt the weight of Clark’s failures begin to lift from her shoulders—not because she had forgiven him, but because she had finally spoken her truth.

Chapter Text

Kara sat on the couch in her apartment, staring blankly at the window as the late afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains. The confrontation at the Watchtower had left her drained in ways she hadn’t anticipated. Conner was spending time at Mount Justice, and the apartment was unusually quiet. For the first time in weeks, she was alone—with her thoughts.

The weight of everything pressed down on her like a tidal wave. Her anger at Clark, her grief over Krypton, the lingering sense of loss that she had buried so deeply it was almost second nature—all of it was bubbling to the surface. She had spent years pushing it all aside, convincing herself she didn’t have time to feel it, that she had more important things to do. But now, with nothing to distract her, the emotions clawed their way out of the cracks.

A knock at the door startled her out of her haze. She blinked, taking a moment to register it, before standing and walking to answer it. Alex stood on the other side, her expression equal parts concern and determination.

“Kara,” Alex said gently, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. She closed the door behind her and gave her sister a long, searching look. “Barry called me. He told me about the meeting.”

Kara let out a humorless laugh, turning away and wrapping her arms around herself. “Of course he did.”

Alex didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she stepped closer and placed a hand on Kara’s arm. “Are you okay?”

Kara shrugged, her voice flat. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Alex said firmly, steering her toward the couch. “Sit. Talk to me. You’ve been holding this in for too long, Kara. You’re going to explode if you don’t let it out.”

“I’m fine,” Kara repeated, though her voice cracked slightly.

Alex crouched in front of her, taking both of Kara’s hands in her own. “You don’t have to pretend with me. Kara, you’ve been through so much—losing Krypton, losing your family, feeling abandoned by Clark—and now you’re carrying everything with Conner, too. You don’t have to carry all of that alone.”

Kara’s hands trembled in Alex’s grip. “I don’t know how to stop,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been holding it in for so long. I don’t even know where to start.”

Alex pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly. “Start here. With me. Just let it out.”

Kara’s breath hitched, and the dam finally broke. She sobbed into Alex’s shoulder, years of pain and grief spilling out in a torrent. Alex didn’t say anything, just held her and let her cry.

By the time the tears subsided, Kara felt wrung out but lighter, as though a weight had been lifted. Alex brushed her sister’s hair out of her face and gave her a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to do this alone, Kara. You’ve got me, you’ve got Eliza, and you’ve got Conner. We’re in this together.”

The next morning, Eliza arrived at Kara’s apartment with a container of food in her hands. She didn’t ask questions—she simply stepped inside, wrapped Kara in a hug, and let her cry all over again.

Eliza sat with Kara on the couch, holding her daughter’s hand as they talked. “You’ve always been so strong, Kara,” Eliza said gently. “But even the strongest people need help sometimes. You don’t have to be perfect for Conner, or for anyone else. You just have to be there.”

“I’m trying,” Kara whispered. “I just... I don’t want him to feel as lost as I did. I don’t want him to feel like he doesn’t belong.”

Eliza smiled, brushing a stray tear from Kara’s cheek. “And that’s why you’re doing an amazing job. He knows he belongs with you, Kara. You’ve already given him what Clark couldn’t—love, and a home.”

That evening, Lena arrived with a bag of takeout, her face lighting up when Kara opened the door. “I figured you could use a friend,” Lena said, walking inside and placing the food on the kitchen counter.

Not long after, Cat knocked at the door, Carter trailing behind her. “Carter insisted we stop by,” Cat said briskly, though her tone softened when she saw Kara. “And I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check on my favorite Kryptonian.”

Kara managed a small smile as she let them in.

After dinner, Lena and Cat lingered while the boys disappeared to play video games. Kara found herself sitting between them on the couch, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

“What’s going on, Kara?” Lena asked, her voice soft but concerned. “You’ve seemed off for a while, and today... you just seem exhausted.”

Kara hesitated, then began to speak, her voice quiet at first but gaining strength as the words poured out. She told them about her confrontation with Clark, about her guilt and anger, and the weight of trying to be everything Conner needed.

But then her voice broke as she said, “When I first got to Earth, I didn’t know who I was anymore. I wasn’t Kara Zor-El of Krypton, and I wasn’t Kara Danvers yet. I was just... lost. Everything I’d ever known was gone. My family, my friends, my culture—it was all gone. And the one person who was supposed to help me, who was supposed to make me feel less alone, just... didn’t.”

Cat’s sharp gaze softened, and she reached over to place a hand on Kara’s arm. “Oh, darling...”

“I don’t ever want Conner to feel like that,” Kara continued, her voice trembling. “I don’t want him to feel like he’s just... floating, with no anchor, no place where he belongs. I’ll do anything to make sure he never feels that way.”

Lena moved closer, her hand joining Cat’s. “And you’ve done that, Kara. You’ve given him a home, a family. He knows he belongs with you.”

Cat nodded, her expression uncharacteristically tender. “Lena’s right. You’ve already done more for him than Clark ever could. And you’re not alone in this. You have us.”

Kara looked between them, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you. Both of you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” Lena said with a smile.

“Exactly,” Cat added, her tone firm. “We’re here, whether you like it or not.”

From the hallway, Conner stood frozen, having just returned from checking on Carter. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the moment he heard Kara’s voice crack, he couldn’t walk away.

He stepped inside, his expression hesitant. “You mean that?” he asked quietly.

Kara’s head snapped up, her face flushing. “Conner, I—”

“You really felt like that?” he interrupted, his voice filled with disbelief and something softer—understanding. “You felt like you didn’t belong?”

Kara nodded slowly, her throat tightening. “For a long time, yes. And I don’t want that for you, Conner. I want you to feel safe. Loved. Like you have a place in this world. Because you do.”

Conner crossed the room in a few steps and pulled Kara into a hug, holding her tightly. “You’ve already done that for me. More than you know.”

As tears welled in Kara’s eyes, he added softly, “Thank you... Mom.”

Kara froze for a moment, her breath catching. Her arms tightened around him as her tears spilled over, her voice trembling. “You don’t know how much that means to me, Conner. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom,” he said, his voice steady and filled with certainty.

As Lena and Cat watched the two, a quiet understanding passed between them. This family might be unconventional, but it was theirs.

Chapter Text

The Fortress of Solitude glimmered in the cool, icy light of its crystalline structure, the silence between Kara and Clark punctuated only by the faint hum of Kryptonian technology. Kara stood at the central console, her fingers gliding across the glowing interface as she activated a series of holograms. Kryptonian symbols, maps, and figures swirled in the air around them, an elegant display of her lost home.

“This is where we begin,” she said, her tone clipped. “If you’re serious about learning what you should have taught Conner, then you need to start here.”

Clark nodded solemnly, stepping closer to the console. His gaze flickered over the symbols, the intricate designs of Kryptonian architecture, and the family crests displayed before him. Kara began with the basics, her voice steady but formal.

“Krypton was a society of progress,” she explained. “Science, philosophy, art—our people thrived because we valued knowledge and unity. The House of El represented that unity. Even when my ancestors relinquished the throne, our family remained at the center of Krypton’s progress. We were leaders, not because of our titles but because of our values. Our crest symbolized hope for a better future.”

Clark’s brow furrowed as he listened, his eyes darting between the projections. “I know that the crest means hope,” he said carefully.

Kara froze for a moment before turning to face him. “That’s it?” she asked, her voice sharp.

Clark looked confused. “Well, yes. I’ve seen it written that way in the Fortress—”

Kara cut him off, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Do you even know *why* it means hope? Or what it symbolizes beyond the word itself? Do you know anything about what the House of El stood for?”

Clark hesitated, his expression faltering. “I—no, I guess I don’t,” he admitted.

Kara’s jaw tightened, and she turned back to the console. With a quick swipe of her hand, she pulled up a hologram of Krypton’s solar system, the planet itself rotating slowly at its center.

“This is Rao, our sun,” she said, her voice strained. “It wasn’t just a star to us. Rao was our god, the source of life and light for Krypton. Everything about our culture, our traditions, was tied to Rao. The House of El carried the responsibility of being his chosen protectors, his stewards on Krypton.”

Clark shifted uncomfortably, but Kara pressed on. She cycled through images of Kryptonian cities, texts written in Kryptonian glyphs, and historical depictions of her family’s legacy.

“Our holidays, our science, even the way we governed—it all tied back to Rao and the balance he represented,” Kara continued. “When Krypton faced its final days, it wasn’t just the planet that died. It was an entire way of life. A culture. A history. Everything was lost. Do you even understand what that means?”

Clark opened his mouth to respond, but Kara wasn’t done.

“You had this,” she said, her voice rising. “You had access to all of this, and you ignored it. You had years to learn about Krypton, about *our* family, and you didn’t bother. And because you didn’t care enough to learn, Conner had to suffer. He doesn’t even know who he is because you didn’t think it was important!”

“Kara, I—” Clark began, his voice cracking.

“Don’t,” she snapped, whirling around to face him. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, her frustration spilling over. “Don’t stand there and tell me you care now, because it’s too late. Do you know how many nights I’ve stayed up, trying to remember the songs my mother used to sing to me? Or how hard I’ve fought to keep the memory of Krypton alive, even as it fades? I’ve been carrying all of this alone, Clark. And you—”

She stopped, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. “You had the chance to make sure Conner didn’t feel that same emptiness, that same loss. And you *chose* not to.”

Clark’s shoulders slumped, his guilt etched into every line of his face. “I thought I was protecting him,” he said quietly. “From the weight of it all. From expectations he didn’t ask for.”

Kara let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Protecting him? You abandoned him, Clark. You made him feel like he was nothing. That’s not protection—that’s cowardice.”

Clark flinched at her words, his hands clenching at his sides. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I failed him. I failed you. And I’m sorry, Kara. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t enough,” she said coldly. Her voice was steady now, her emotions locked back into place. “An apology doesn’t undo the damage you’ve done. If you want to make things right, you have to earn it. With actions, not words. And even then, don’t expect forgiveness to come easily. You don’t deserve it—not yet.”

Clark nodded slowly, his expression somber. “I understand.”

Kara turned away from him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she stared out at the frozen landscape beyond the Fortress. “I hope you do,” she said quietly.

---

The newsroom at *CatCo Worldwide Media* was bustling when Kara returned. With a folder tucked under her arm and her phone pressed to her ear, she wove through the chaos, responding to emails on her laptop while taking a call.

“I’ll have the draft to you by tonight,” she said firmly, glancing toward Cat’s office, where the door was ajar. “Just make sure the data in the spreadsheet is accurate before I submit it.”

As she hung up, Cat’s sharp voice rang out. “Danvers! In here. Now.”

Kara sighed and stepped into the office, finding Cat at her desk, flipping through the latest paper with a scrutinizing eye.

“Clark Kent finally crawling back to Krypton?” Cat asked without looking up, her tone cutting but laced with curiosity.

Kara hesitated before sitting in the chair across from her. “He’s... trying. But I’m not sure it’s enough.”

Cat finally looked up, her gaze softening just a fraction. “Of course it’s not enough. What he did—to you and to Conner—is unforgivable. But forgiveness isn’t the point, is it?”

Kara frowned, unsure where Cat was going with this. “What do you mean?”

“The point, darling, is that you don’t let his failures define your success,” Cat said, leaning back in her chair. “You’ve already done more for Conner than he ever could. And while you’re at it, maybe stop carrying the weight of Krypton on your shoulders. That’s not your burden to bear anymore.”

Kara blinked, caught off guard by Cat’s insight. “I just... I don’t want to fail Conner the way Clark failed me.”

“And you won’t,” Cat said firmly. “Because you’re not Clark. You’re better.”

---

Dinner that night was lively, with Carter and Conner chatting animatedly while Kara, Cat, and Lena took turns teasing each other over takeout choices.

“Conner,” Cat said suddenly, setting down her glass of wine, “have you ever thought about school?”

Conner blinked, his fork paused halfway to his mouth. “School?”

“Yes,” Cat continued, her tone smooth and confident. “Carter’s school, specifically. It’s a private academy, small classes, excellent teachers, and plenty of extracurricular opportunities. It would be a chance for you to experience something normal.”

Conner hesitated, glancing at Carter, who grinned brightly. “It’s not that bad, Conner. I can show you around, introduce you to people, and teach you all the good hiding spots.”

“Carter!” Cat snapped, though there was an amused glint in her eye.

Kara frowned, her protective instincts flaring. “I don’t know if it’s the right time. He’s still adjusting. What if it’s too much for him?”

“That’s why Carter will be there,” Cat said smoothly. “He’ll have someone looking out for him, someone who understands him. And let’s not forget, Conner’s stronger than you think.”

Lena nodded, her tone thoughtful. “Cat’s right. It could be a good opportunity for him. It might help him feel more grounded, like he has something normal to anchor him.”

Conner glanced between them, his brow furrowed. “You really think it’d be okay?”

Cat smiled. “I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think so.”

Conner sighed, then smirked faintly. “As long as I don’t have to wear a tie, I’ll give it a try.”

Carter whooped. “Yes! You’re gonna love it, I promise.”

Kara smiled softly, the tension in her chest easing as she watched the boys interact. “Okay,” she said finally. “Let’s give it a try.”

---

Later that night, after everyone had left and the apartment was quiet again, Kara sat cross-legged on her bed, her phone in hand. She hesitated for a moment before dialing Alex’s number.

Alex answered on the second ring, her voice warm but slightly distracted. “Hey, Kara. What’s up?”

“I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing,” Kara admitted, her voice trembling slightly.

Alex’s tone immediately shifted to concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I let Clark into the Fortress today,” Kara said, the words tumbling out. “He says he wants to learn about Krypton, about our family, but I don’t know if I believe him. And now I’m sending Conner to school. What if I’m making the wrong choices for him?”

“Kara,” Alex said gently, “you’re doing what you think is best. That’s what matters. You’ve been there for Conner every step of the way, and you’ve given him something Clark never did: a home. He knows you’re in his corner, no matter what. That’s what’s going to make the difference.”

“I just... I don’t want to fail him,” Kara whispered.

“And you won’t,” Alex said firmly. “Because you care. You’re already doing more than enough, Kara. You’re a great mom, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.”

Kara smiled faintly, her chest tightening with gratitude. “Thanks, Alex. I needed that.”

“Anytime,” Alex replied. “Now go get some sleep—you sound exhausted.”

Chapter Text

Kara stood outside the gates of Carter’s private school, the morning sun casting long shadows across the manicured lawns. Conner stood beside her, shifting nervously as he clutched his bag. His hands tightened around the straps, his knuckles white, as though the bag was his only lifeline. Carter was a few steps ahead, practically bouncing with excitement as he waited for Conner to catch up.

“You’ll be fine,” Kara said, her voice soft but encouraging. She placed a hand on Conner’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Remember, this isn’t about being perfect. It’s about finding your place.”

Conner glanced at her, his jaw tight. “What if I don’t fit in?”

“You will,” Kara reassured him, her tone firm. “And if you don’t, you’ll figure it out. You’re strong, Conner. Stronger than you know. Just... try to have fun, okay? It’s not all about fitting in.”

Carter turned back, his grin wide and infectious. “Come on, Conner! I’ll show you the ropes. And don’t worry, I already scouted out the best spots to hide during boring assemblies.”

“Carter!” Kara chided, though her voice was tinged with amusement.

“What?” Carter asked, shrugging. “I’m just trying to make him feel better.”

Conner gave a faint smile, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He looked at Kara again, his voice quiet. “You’ll be here later, right?”

“Always,” she promised, her hand squeezing his shoulder once more. “You’re going to do great, Conner. I’ll be here if you need me.”

With a deep breath, Conner nodded and turned to follow Carter through the gates. Kara stayed rooted in place, watching as the two boys disappeared into the bustling crowd of students. Her heart swelled with a mix of pride, anxiety, and hope.

As they vanished from sight, she whispered under her breath, “You’ve got this, Conner.”

The world knew him only as her adopted son, a quiet boy from National City with no connections to Superman or Lex Luthor. Kara had made sure of that, carefully shielding him from the scrutiny that might come with his lineage. Here, he could just be himself.

Kara lingered for a moment longer, her chest tightening with the bittersweet weight of letting go. Then, her communicator buzzed, pulling her back to reality. With one last glance at the school, she took a steadying breath and soared into the sky.

---

The Justice League’s conference room hummed with quiet tension as the team gathered around the central table. The glow of the holographic display bathed everyone in soft light, the various mission details floating in midair. Batman stood at the head of the table, his dark cape pooled behind him as he adjusted the display. His stoic expression revealed nothing as he addressed the room.

“This operation requires precision,” Batman began, his gravelly voice commanding attention. “We’ve identified an alien trafficking ring operating out of Gotham. They’ve been smuggling sentient beings through intergalactic black markets. We’ve tracked their latest movements to an abandoned warehouse near the docks.”

Kara sat between Barry and Diana, her mind half on the briefing and half on Conner’s first day at school. Barry noticed her distracted expression and leaned over, nudging her arm lightly.

“You good?” he whispered, his tone laced with concern but still friendly.

Kara blinked and nodded, snapping back to the present. “Yeah, just a lot on my plate,” she murmured.

Barry grinned, trying to lighten her mood. “You’ll be fine. You’re Supergirl, remember? You’ve got this.”

“Welcome to the club,” Oliver chimed in from across the table, his smirk carrying the dry humor that always managed to pull Kara out of her own head.

Kara gave them a faint smile, but her attention shifted as Clark cleared his throat loudly, trying to redirect focus to himself.

“I’d like to volunteer for point on this mission,” Clark said, his voice steady but laced with his usual self-assuredness. “This is something I can handle.”

Kara’s jaw tightened, her hands clenching briefly in her lap. She fought the urge to roll her eyes, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. Clark’s eagerness to take charge felt performative, as though he were trying to reclaim some sense of authority after his failures with Conner.

Batman didn’t even glance in Clark’s direction. Instead, he continued as though the interruption hadn’t happened.

“Supergirl, you’ll take the lead,” Batman said decisively. “Your powers are better suited for close combat in confined spaces. Flash, Green Arrow—you’ll provide support on the perimeter. Wonder Woman, you’re with me on extraction.”

Kara blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the assignment. She glanced at Bruce, trying to gauge his reasoning, but his expression remained impassive.

“Understood,” Kara said, her voice steady despite the surprise.

Clark shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his lips pressing into a thin line, but he didn’t protest. Diana gave Kara an encouraging nod, her approval quiet but sincere.

“Time is of the essence,” Batman continued, ignoring any lingering tension in the room. “Move out.”

---

The mission itself was intense from the start. The warehouse was dimly lit, its shadows stretching across the walls like ominous specters. Kara led the charge, her x-ray vision scanning the interior for heat signatures as the team approached.

“There’s at least twenty of them inside,” Kara reported over the comms. “Half are armed. The others are guarding the containment units.”

“Focus on disabling their weapons first,” Batman’s voice came through, calm and precise.

Kara moved quickly, her heat vision cutting through the darkness as she took out the first set of guards. The clang of metal hitting the floor echoed through the space, and the traffickers scrambled to respond. Barry zipped through the perimeter, disarming the remaining guards in a blur of motion.

“Perimeter’s clear,” Barry said, his tone light despite the chaos around them. “You’re up, Supergirl.”

Kara didn’t hesitate. She launched herself forward, her punches precise as she neutralized the next wave of traffickers. Her movements were fluid, each strike purposeful and controlled.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Diana and Batman working together to free the captured aliens from their containment units. The beings—many of them small and frightened—looked up at the heroes with wide, hopeful eyes.

“We’ve got them,” Diana said, her voice steady as she gently guided the aliens toward the extraction point. “Keep them off our backs.”

Kara turned back to the fight, her focus sharpening. A particularly large trafficker lunged at her, wielding a metal rod. Kara caught it effortlessly, snapping it in half with a flick of her wrist before sending the man flying into a stack of crates.

“Nice one!” Barry’s voice crackled through her earpiece, his grin almost audible.

“Focus, Flash,” Batman growled.

Barry coughed lightly. “Right. Sorry.”

The mission wrapped up smoothly, the remaining traffickers subdued and the victims safely extracted. Kara stood at the center of the warehouse, her chest rising and falling as she surveyed the aftermath.

“You handled that well,” Batman said, his voice cutting through the silence as he approached. His tone was neutral, but there was a hint of approval in his words.

“Thanks,” Kara replied, wiping her hands on her suit.

“Good work,” Diana added, her smile warm.

As the team regrouped back at the Watchtower, Kara caught Barry and Oliver exchanging knowing looks.

“What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as they broke into matching grins.

“Nothing,” Barry said, smirking. “Just proud of you, Supergirl. You crushed it out there.”

“Seriously,” Oliver added, leaning casually against the wall. “Nice leadership. You’re really settling into this.”

Kara rolled her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. “Thanks, guys.”

From across the room, Clark watched the exchange silently, his expression unreadable. Kara didn’t spare him a glance, her focus on the teammates who had supported her every step of the way.

For the first time in a while, she felt like she belonged.

---

Kara sat at a small round table in the cozy café, cradling her steaming latte between her hands. The warmth seeped into her fingers, but it did little to calm the restless thoughts swirling in her head. Across from her, Cat and Lena were the picture of ease—Cat flipping through her tablet while sipping an espresso, Lena stirring her tea with careful precision.

“So,” Cat said, breaking the silence as she set her tablet down with a deliberate motion, “how’s our newest scholar doing on his first day in the wild world of academia?”

Kara let out a small laugh, though it sounded more anxious than amused. “Carter seemed excited to show him around, so that’s something. But Conner... I don’t know. He’s nervous, and I can’t really blame him.”

Lena looked up from her tea, her brow furrowed with concern. “That’s to be expected, Kara. He’s been through a lot, and this is a huge change for him. But it’s also a good one.”

Kara nodded, staring into her cup as if it held all the answers. “I know. I just... What if it’s too much for him? What if he can’t handle it, or he feels like he doesn’t belong?” She sighed, shaking her head. “He’s still figuring out who he is, and I don’t want this to make him feel even more lost.”

Cat leaned forward, her sharp gaze softening just enough to be comforting. “Danvers, you’re doing what every good parent does: worrying yourself sick over things you can’t control. The truth is, Conner needs this. He needs to figure out who he is outside of all the chaos you’ve both been through. And school—normalcy—is a good place to start.”

Kara looked up, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know if it’s normal for him, though. He’s... different. What if the other kids figure it out? What if they—”

Cat cut her off with a wave of her hand. “They won’t figure it out. As far as the world is concerned, Conner is the adopted son of a hardworking CatCo reporter. No capes, no aliens, no Lex Luthor drama. He’s just a kid. Let him be one.”

“She’s right,” Lena added, her voice calm and reassuring. “And Carter’s there. If anything happens, he’ll have someone to rely on. Someone who understands what it’s like to grow up with... unique circumstances.”

Kara hesitated, her grip tightening on her cup. “I just want him to feel like he belongs,” she said quietly.

“And he will,” Cat said, her tone firm but kind. “Because he has you. And because you refuse to accept anything less for him.”

Lena reached across the table, placing a gentle hand on Kara’s. “You’re giving him something he’s never had before—a chance to just be a teenager. That’s more than enough.”

Kara let out a soft laugh, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. “Thanks, guys. I needed that.”

“Anytime,” Lena said with a warm smile.

Cat smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Well, don’t make it a habit of doubting yourself, Danvers. You’re too stubborn for that.”

Kara couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound lighter this time. For the first time that day, she felt like maybe—just maybe—things would be okay.

---

The first day of school was a whirlwind of new faces, new routines, and new challenges for Conner. Carter, ever the enthusiastic guide, dragged him through the halls, pointing out classrooms, teachers, and secret shortcuts with the kind of energy that only Carter could muster.

“That’s Mr. Thompson,” Carter said, nodding toward a tall man with glasses who was handing out flyers near the science lab. “He’s the chemistry teacher. Super strict, but if you’re good at science, he’ll love you. Oh, and over there—”

Conner tried to absorb it all, nodding along as Carter spoke, but his focus kept drifting. The school felt both overwhelming and strangely small compared to the life he’d known before. He couldn’t help but notice how the other students watched him, their curiosity evident.

“New kid, huh?” one boy said in passing, his tone neither friendly nor hostile.

“Yeah,” Conner replied curtly, not stopping to elaborate.

Carter glanced back at him, his grin faltering slightly. “Don’t worry about them. They’ll warm up to you once they see how cool you are.”

“Cool,” Conner echoed, his tone skeptical.

By lunchtime, Conner was already exhausted. The buzz of the cafeteria was a chaotic symphony of voices, trays clattering, and chairs scraping against the floor. Carter guided him to a table near the back, where they could have some semblance of quiet.

“Okay,” Carter said, unwrapping his sandwich. “So far, you’re doing great.”

“Am I?” Conner asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah! You didn’t glare at the principal when she introduced herself, and you only looked like you wanted to punch someone twice this morning. Progress!” Carter teased, flashing a wide grin.

Despite himself, Conner chuckled. “You’re ridiculous.”

“True,” Carter said cheerfully, “but I’m also right.”

From across the cafeteria, a few girls sitting at a nearby table glanced over at Conner. One of them nudged her friend, whispering behind her hand. “Who’s the new guy?”

“No idea,” the friend replied, her gaze lingering on Conner. “But he’s kind of... mysterious.”

“He’s hot,” another girl added with a grin.

Conner, oblivious to their attention, focused on his food. Carter, however, noticed and smirked. “Looks like you’ve already got some admirers.”

“What?” Conner asked, confused.

Carter nodded toward the table of girls. “They’ve been staring at you for, like, five minutes.”

Conner glanced over briefly, then shook his head. “Great,” he muttered, focusing back on his sandwich.

---

By the end of the week, Conner had settled into a routine. Carter remained a constant presence, introducing him to classmates and helping him navigate school life. But Conner’s heightened senses and wariness of people meant he remained guarded, keeping interactions surface-level at best.

It wasn’t until Friday that things took a turn.

Gym class was held in the school’s large, echoing gymnasium. The students were divided into teams for a series of relay races. Conner kept his head down, focusing on the activities and trying to avoid drawing attention to himself.

But some attention couldn’t be avoided.

A group of older boys had been watching Conner all week, their curiosity turning into something more pointed. During a break between races, one of them approached him, a smirk plastered across his face.

“Hey, new kid,” the boy said, his voice dripping with mock friendliness. “You’re pretty quiet. Too good to talk to the rest of us?”

Conner glanced at him, his expression neutral. “I’m just here to do my thing.”

The boy’s smirk widened as he leaned closer. “Your ‘thing,’ huh? What’s that? Brooding in the corner like you’re better than everyone else?”

Carter, standing a few feet away, noticed the exchange and started to step forward. “Hey, leave him alone—”

The boy ignored Carter, his focus solely on Conner. “You’re not so tough. Just another kid trying to act cool. Bet you think you’re something special.”

Conner clenched his fists at his sides, his jaw tightening. Kara’s words echoed in his mind: *No powers. Stay in control.*

“I don’t want any trouble,” Conner said evenly, his voice calm but firm.

“Oh, you don’t want trouble?” the boy taunted, stepping closer. “Then maybe you should’ve stayed home with your mommy.”

The shove came out of nowhere—quick, hard, and unexpected. The boy pushed Conner’s shoulder, trying to provoke a reaction.

Conner staggered slightly but didn’t retaliate. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “I said I don’t want trouble.”

The boy laughed, glancing back at his friends. “Look at him—he’s scared. Afraid to fight back.”

When the boy shoved him again, Conner reacted. Years of combat training downloaded into his mind by Cadmus kicked in. He didn’t use his Kryptonian strength, instead sidestepping the shove and twisting the boy’s arm just enough to make him lose balance.

The boy stumbled, his face red with anger and embarrassment. “What the hell?”

Conner’s voice was calm but firm. “I told you—I don’t want trouble. But if you keep pushing, you’ll regret it.”

The boy lunged at him, fists flying, but Conner blocked the attack with practiced precision. He moved smoothly, evading blows and countering just enough to subdue the boy without causing any real harm. By the time a teacher intervened, the boy was on the ground, gasping for breath, while Conner stood unharmed.

---

The school called Kara immediately.

By the time she arrived, she was tense but composed, her reporter instincts masking her frustration. The principal explained the incident, her tone a mix of disapproval and concern.

“We cannot tolerate violence, Ms. Danvers,” the principal said firmly. “Even if your son was provoked, his response was... excessive.”

Kara folded her arms, her expression calm but authoritative. “With all due respect, Conner was defending himself. If the other student hadn’t instigated the fight, this wouldn’t have happened. My son isn’t a troublemaker.”

The principal hesitated, clearly uncertain how to respond. “Regardless, he needs to find a better way to handle conflict. If this happens again, we’ll have to take disciplinary action.”

“Understood,” Kara said, her tone clipped.

---

The car ride home was silent at first, the tension thick in the air. Conner stared out the window, his jaw tight.

Finally, Kara broke the silence. “What were you thinking, Conner?”

“I didn’t use my powers,” he said quickly.

“That’s not the point,” Kara replied, her voice firm but not harsh. “You could have seriously hurt someone, even without using your powers. Do you understand that?”

Conner glanced at her, his expression a mix of frustration and guilt. “He wouldn’t stop. I didn’t want to fight, but he wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Kara sighed, her voice softening. “I know. And I’m proud of you for holding back as much as you did. But next time, I want you to walk away. Let a teacher handle it.”

Conner frowned. “Walking away won’t stop them.”

“No, but it’ll keep you out of trouble,” Kara said. She hesitated, glancing at him briefly before continuing. “Conner... I think it might help if you talked to someone. A therapist.”

Conner tensed, his gaze snapping to her. “I don’t need therapy.”

“Maybe you don’t think you do,” Kara said gently. “But you’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to ask for help. It doesn’t make you weak.”

Conner didn’t respond, his gaze returning to the window. Kara sighed but didn’t push further.

“I just want what’s best for you,” she said quietly.

For the rest of the drive, the only sound was the hum of the engine.

---

Later that day, Kara sat on the couch, her phone in hand. The apartment was quiet except for the faint sounds of Carter and Conner laughing as they played video games in the other room. Kara stared at her phone for a long moment, debating whether to make the call. Finally, she sighed and tapped her mother’s name in her contacts.

The phone rang twice before Eliza answered, her warm voice immediately putting Kara at ease.

“Kara! It’s so good to hear from you,” Eliza said. “What’s going on?”

“Hi, Mom,” Kara began hesitantly. “I, uh, I needed to talk. It’s about Conner.”

There was a shuffling sound on the other end before another familiar voice chimed in.

“Kara, what happened?” Alex’s voice was sharp with concern.

“Alex? You’re with Mom?” Kara asked, momentarily distracted.

“Yeah,” Alex replied. “I came over for dinner. Now, spill. What’s going on with Conner?”

Kara let out a shaky breath. “He got into trouble at school today. Some kid kept pushing him, trying to provoke him, and Conner defended himself. He didn’t use his powers, but it still turned into a fight. The school called me, and the principal said they’d let him off with a warning this time, but they’re watching him now.”

Eliza’s tone was calm but firm. “Did the school explain what the other boy did to provoke him?”

“Yeah,” Kara said. “The kid shoved him first. Conner tried to walk away, but the guy wouldn’t stop.”

“And Conner still got in trouble?” Alex asked, her voice tinged with frustration.

“They don’t tolerate violence, period,” Kara explained. “Even if it was self-defense.”

Eliza hummed thoughtfully. “How did Conner react afterward?”

Kara leaned back against the couch, rubbing her temples. “He was upset. Not just because of the fight, but because he feels like walking away wouldn’t have stopped the kid. And when I suggested therapy again, he completely shut down.”

“You’ve mentioned therapy to him before?” Eliza asked gently.

Kara nodded, even though they couldn’t see her. “Yeah. After the first time he lost his temper here. He refused. He thinks he doesn’t need it, and I don’t know how to convince him otherwise.”

“Kara,” Eliza began, her voice warm but firm, “you have to remember that Conner’s been through so much. Therapy might sound scary to him because it means facing things he’s not ready to deal with. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need it—it just means he needs more time to see the value in it.”

Kara let out a soft sigh. “I just... I don’t want him to feel the way I did when I first got here. Lost, out of place, like he doesn’t belong anywhere.”

“Kara,” Eliza said gently, “do you remember how you were when you first came to Earth? When you first came to live with us?”

“Of course I do,” Kara replied, frowning slightly. “But that’s different. I was ripped away from my entire planet.”

“True,” Eliza said, “but think about how you felt. You were scared, angry, and trying to figure out who you were in a world that didn’t make sense to you. Conner’s experience isn’t the same, but the feelings are. He’s trying to navigate a world that’s completely new to him, and he’s doing it while carrying the weight of everything that happened to him at Cadmus.”

Alex’s voice broke in, quieter but no less impactful. “Kara, do you remember when you punched a hole in the barn wall?”

Kara winced. “I was frustrated, okay? Everything felt wrong, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

“Exactly,” Alex said. “You were frustrated because you didn’t know how to handle everything you were feeling. Conner’s going through the same thing. The difference is, you had us to help you through it.”

Eliza added, “And that’s what you’re doing for Conner now. He’s not going to figure it all out overnight, Kara. But he doesn’t have to. He has you.”

“I just feel like I’m not enough,” Kara admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m trying so hard, but what if it’s not enough?”

Eliza’s tone turned gentle but firm. “Kara, you are enough. But you don’t have to do this alone. Sometimes, the best thing you can do for someone you love is to give them the tools to help themselves. Therapy might be one of those tools for Conner.”

Alex chimed in, “And even if he’s not ready for therapy now, that doesn’t mean he won’t ever be. Keep the door open for him. Show him it’s okay to ask for help.”

Kara nodded slowly, their words sinking in. “I’ll keep trying. I just... I want him to feel like he belongs. Like he has a home.”

“He already does, Kara,” Eliza said warmly. “You’ve given him that. And if he ever needs someone else to talk to, you know I’m here for him too.”

Kara smiled faintly, a small weight lifting off her shoulders. “Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Alex. I really needed this.”

“Anytime,” Alex said. “You’ve got this, Kara. And if you don’t, you’ve got us.”

Eliza chuckled softly. “Exactly. Now, go get some rest, sweetheart. You sound like you’ve been running on fumes.”

Kara laughed softly. “Yeah, I probably should. Love you, Mom. Love you, Alex.”

“Love you too, Kara,” Eliza replied.

“Same here,” Alex added. “Call if you need anything.”

As the call ended, Kara sat on the couch for a moment longer, her heart feeling a little lighter. She glanced toward Conner’s room, the faint sound of his laughter reaching her ears. They still had a long way to go, but they were going to figure it out—together.

---

The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow through Kara’s apartment windows. The soft clinking of glasses and the occasional laugh filled the air as Lena opened a bottle of wine, pouring three glasses with practiced ease. Cat was already perched on the couch, her legs crossed elegantly, scrutinizing the takeout bags on the coffee table as if they were a personal affront.

“This is what you’re feeding yourself and Conner?” Cat asked, arching an eyebrow as she picked up a container. “Really, Danvers, I’d expect this level of culinary negligence from anyone else, but you’re supposed to be setting an example.”

Kara plopped down next to her, a pair of chopsticks already in hand, and gave Cat a wide grin. “It’s delicious, it’s quick, and it keeps Conner from eating the fridge out of boredom. I’d call that a win.”

“Potstickers again?” Lena teased as she joined them, handing Kara her glass.

“Always potstickers,” Kara replied, popping one into her mouth and sighing happily. “You two have no idea what you’re missing.”

Cat gave her an unimpressed look, leaning back against the couch cushions. “I think I’ll survive. Barely.”

Kara laughed, her shoulders relaxing for the first time all day. The weight she carried—the Justice League missions, Conner’s adjustment to school, managing her responsibilities at *CatCo*—seemed a little lighter with Cat and Lena beside her.

“You know, Kara,” Cat began, her tone shifting into something softer but no less firm, “as much as I admire your ability to juggle an insane amount of responsibilities, I can’t help but notice that you don’t seem to take much time for yourself.”

Kara paused mid-bite, her brow furrowing. “What do you mean? I take time. I’m here with you two, aren’t I?”

Lena placed her wine glass down and leaned forward, her expression gentle but insistent. “That’s not what she means, Kara. You’re constantly focused on everyone else—Conner, the League, your work. When was the last time you did something just for yourself?”

“I don’t need to,” Kara said, brushing off the question. “I’m fine. I’m happy as long as the people I care about are okay.”

Cat narrowed her eyes. “That’s not how it works, darling. You can’t pour from an empty cup. If you keep neglecting yourself, eventually you’ll burn out, and then where will Conner—or any of us—be?”

Kara sighed, setting down her chopsticks. “I’m fine, really. I just don’t think about it.”

“Well, maybe you should,” Lena said, her voice soft but firm. “You matter too, Kara. Your needs, your wants, your happiness—it’s just as important as everything else you’re balancing.”

For a moment, Kara was silent, her gaze fixed on the takeout container in front of her. Then she let out a small, nervous laugh. “I don’t even know what I’d do if I had time for myself. It’s been so long since I thought about it.”

Cat’s sharp eyes softened, and she reached out, placing a hand on Kara’s knee. “Then maybe it’s time you start. You’re not just a superhero or a reporter or Conner’s mom. You’re Kara. And that woman deserves some attention too.”

Lena nodded, her hand brushing against Kara’s as she added, “We’ll help. Whatever you want—whether it’s taking a day off, going somewhere new, or just sitting on this couch eating potstickers—we’ll make sure you get it.”

Kara blinked, her throat tightening at their words. “You two really don’t have to—”

“Oh, we absolutely do,” Cat interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Because clearly, you’re not going to do it yourself.”

Kara laughed softly, a small but genuine smile breaking through her usual mask of calm. “Okay. Maybe I’ll think about it.”

“That’s a start,” Lena said, her lips curling into a smile.

“And in the meantime,” Cat added, reaching for the takeout bag with a look of resigned disdain, “I suppose I’ll try one of these potstickers. But if they’re as mediocre as I expect, you’re cooking next time, Danvers.”

Kara grinned, holding up the container. “Challenge accepted.”

As the three of them settled into easy conversation, the weight Kara carried felt a little less heavy. With Lena and Cat by her side, she realized she didn’t have to do everything alone—and maybe, just maybe, it was okay to take care of herself too.

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun cast warm gold over the skyline as Kara hovered above National City. Her eyes traced the horizon, but her mind wasn’t on the view. The call had come in from the Justice League a few hours earlier—there had been movement. Movement related to a name she hadn’t dared to think about in months, maybe years. A name that stirred something old and painful deep in her gut.

Astra.

Kara landed lightly at the edge of the Fortress of Solitude. The silence inside wrapped around her like snowdrift, heavy and muffling. Crystalline corridors stretched outward as she walked, her boots echoing off the gleaming floor. She passed familiar consoles, but her destination was hidden—beneath the surface, behind false walls, cloaked in secrecy only she and one other ever knew.

She stopped at the threshold of the chamber.

Inside, bathed in soft Kryptonian stasis light, floated the form of her aunt.

Astra.

Pale. Motionless. Alive.

Kara didn’t know what unnerved her more—the steady pulse visible on the monitor or the fact that Astra looked almost peaceful. As if the horrors of the past hadn’t scarred them both. But they had. Deeply. The truth was, Kara had brought her here nearly a year ago. After Lex, with uncharacteristic restraint and a twist of respect, gave her Astra’s location—comatose, hidden, and guarded by technology only LexCorp could build.

Kara hadn’t told anyone. Not Alex. Not Clark. Not even Lena.

It was a secret she protected with every fiber of her being.

Because if Astra ever woke up…

Kara moved closer, her hand ghosting over the containment glass. “If you come back,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, “you have to be different. You have to mean it this time. I won’t let you near Conner unless you do.”

The chamber remained quiet, but something—a pulse, a twitch—flickered on the monitor. Kara’s jaw tensed. She turned and left, the fear crawling up her spine as she realized it was happening.

Astra was waking up.

And no one knew but her.

Far beneath the crystalline floor, the Fortress’s auxiliary systems—long dormant—activated. Glyphs glowed dimly across the control panels. Deep within the walls, the AI voice of Alura Zor-El muttered fragmented alerts. Untranslated warnings scrolled rapidly across Kara’s datapad. Astra’s vitals had stabilized into something new—awake but restrained. Trapped in a liminal state between dreams and fury.

Kara sealed the chamber, her heart thundering in her chest. But just before the doors shut, she caught the briefest flicker of red through the containment glass—Astra’s eyes. Open. Glowing. Watching.

Something ancient stirred beneath the surface. Something wounded. And perhaps... waiting.

---

At home, things weren’t much calmer.

Kara sat at the kitchen island, watching as Conner silently stabbed at the rice on his plate with a fork. He hadn’t said much since the school incident. Carter had done his best to keep things light, but even his energy couldn’t reach Conner’s walls.

“You know,” Kara said carefully, “I’ve been looking into a few therapists. Ones who specialize in... complicated family backgrounds. People like us.”

“I said I don’t need it,” Conner replied, not looking up.

Kara exhaled slowly, choosing her words. “Conner, I’m not trying to fix you. Therapy isn’t about fixing anything. It’s about helping you carry what you’ve been through. What you still carry.”

He looked at her then, eyes guarded. “You went to therapy?”

She hesitated. “Yes. After I arrived on Earth. After Krypton. I didn’t want to. Eliza practically dragged me. But it helped.”

“I’m not you.”

“No. But you’re my son. And I know what pain looks like when it festers. I see it in your shoulders. I hear it in how you breathe. You don’t sleep unless Carter’s around, and you flinch every time someone raises their voice. That’s not nothing, Conner. That’s trauma.”

He clenched his jaw, but the fork stopped moving.

“Just one session,” Kara said gently. “One. If you hate it, you never have to go again. But give it a chance. Give yourself that.”

Conner didn’t answer right away. But later that night, when Kara was curled on the couch pretending not to watch him from behind her tablet, he walked in and mumbled, “Book the appointment.”

---

The office was warm, filled with muted earth tones and shelves of books, models, and soft lighting. Dr. Amelia Shore was a metahuman therapist with a quiet voice and kind eyes. She didn’t stare at Conner. Didn’t ask invasive questions. She let him sit in silence.

“I don’t talk much,” Conner offered after ten minutes of staring at the wall.

“You don’t have to,” she said.

More silence. Then:

“People think I’m going to explode.”

Dr. Shore nodded. “Do you think that?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know how to stop it when it starts. The anger. The noise. It builds and then I can’t think. And I scare people. Even the ones who love me.”

“But you haven’t exploded, have you?”

Conner shook his head. “Not yet.”

“You’re still here. Still trying. That tells me something important—you want to stay in control.”

He blinked, surprised by the simplicity of the observation.

“I want to be better,” he admitted.

Dr. Shore smiled gently. “Then let’s figure out how.”

---

Kara waited outside, pacing the sidewalk nervously. When Conner emerged from the office, his expression unreadable, she braced herself.

“Well?” she asked, keeping her voice casual.

He gave a small shrug. “It wasn’t terrible.”

Kara blinked. “That’s... a good start?”

He nodded. “I’m going back next week.”

She blinked again, fighting the emotional swell in her chest. “You are?”

“I said I would,” Conner replied simply. Then, quieter: “Thanks for pushing.”

Kara smiled, walking beside him in step as they headed home. “Anytime.”

---

That night, Kara stood again in the Fortress. The sensors in Astra’s chamber were shifting—vital signs climbing. She hovered outside the hidden room, eyes sharp, heart pounding.

She tapped her comm. “Bruce. It’s happening. Astra’s waking up.”

A pause.

“Are you ready for that?” Batman’s voice asked.

“No,” she whispered, eyes locked on the stasis pod. “But I don’t think we have a choice.”

---

The next evening, Kara returned home to find takeout already waiting on the table.

Cat was perched on the edge of the couch, wine in hand, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow as Kara walked in. “Well, if it isn’t National City’s favorite flying disaster.”

Lena chuckled, pulling a second wine glass from the cabinet. “You’re late. We started without you.”

“I had... Fortress business,” Kara muttered, slumping into the chair.

Cat narrowed her eyes. “If Fortress business is code for avoiding our little night in, I’m revoking your invitation rights.”

Kara sighed, grateful for their banter. “No, I just... needed air.”

Lena passed her a glass. Their fingers brushed—just briefly—and Kara flushed.

“Tell us what’s wrong,” Lena said softly.

Kara looked between them. “Conner started therapy.”

Cat blinked. “You actually got him to go?”

Kara nodded. “He’s giving it a chance.”

Both women smiled, Cat with pride and Lena with quiet admiration.

“You’re doing an amazing job,” Lena murmured, her voice low.

Cat leaned in, smirking. “Almost makes you attractive, Danvers.”

Kara snorted. “Only almost?”

Cat’s eyes sparkled. “Don’t push your luck.”

Lena sipped her wine. “I don’t know, I think she’s always had her charms.”

Kara raised a brow. “Are you two flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” Cat replied airily.

“Absolutely,” Lena said at the same time.

Kara laughed, genuinely, the tension bleeding from her chest.

Then she looked down, fidgeting with the rim of her glass. “I’ve been thinking about changing my hero name.”

Cat and Lena both tilted their heads.

“Supergirl doesn’t fit anymore,” Kara said. “Not after everything. Not with Conner. I’m not a girl. I’m not a sidekick. I want something that’s mine. Something that stands apart.”

“What do you have in mind?” Lena asked.

Kara looked up, a new light in her eyes. “Kyra.”

Cat arched an eyebrow. “Strong. Elegant. And still Kryptonian enough to scare your enemies.”

Lena grinned. “It suits you.”

Kara smiled, for the first time that day feeling like her future wasn’t just reacting to crisis—but choosing a path.

With Lena and Cat beside her, and Conner slowly healing, maybe she could do this.

Maybe she could finally be who she was always meant to be.

Chapter Text

The skies above Metropolis blazed with the fury of a battlefield not seen since Doomsday’s fall. Smoke curled like ribbons through the shattered skyline, and each pulse of energy from the alien wreckage echoed like a war drum through the steel bones of the city. Sirens screamed. Windows shattered. Fire crews and League responders scrambled to protect civilians as debris the size of buildings tore through the streets.
At the eye of it all, Kyra fought like a woman possessed.
She darted between falling girders and plasma blasts, her form a streak of silver and blue amid fire and chaos. Her suit was ripped at the shoulder and burned along her ribs, the shimmering crest of the House of El glowing defiantly over her heart—no longer the girl who followed, but the woman who stood her ground.
She twisted midair to redirect a collapsing transport vehicle with her last burst of strength, but it cost her. A wave of feedback from the warship’s core tech exploded in her direction, catching her midflight. It hurled her down, hard, her body skidding through concrete with a brutal thud. The force knocked her breathless. Her vision blurred, and every instinct screamed that she was out of time.
Then the sky cracked open.
A sonic boom ruptured above them as a black-and-red blur tore through the clouds. The air bent around him as Kyros—not just Conner, not anymore—slammed into the battlefield with the fury of a meteor striking the Earth.
The ground splintered at his feet. Chunks of steel and alien alloy shattered around him as he rocketed into the drone units that had swarmed toward Kyra’s crumpled form. His fists were blazing, movement feral and precise, Kryptonian might rippling through each punch. Sparks flew. One drone exploded before it could raise its weapon.
Kyros landed in front of Kyra, panting, shoulders squared like a fortress.
“Mom,” he said, voice low and wrecked with fear. “You’re hurt.”
Kyra, dazed and shaking, still smiled faintly. That word—Mom—struck through her deeper than any injury. “I’ve had worse,” she muttered.
A second shadow crossed the clouds.
The air cooled.
Superman descended.
Kal-El, all stoic and steely-eyed authority, hovered above them like a judge returning to a trial long since abandoned. Drones turned toward him immediately, live news feeds capturing every detail—the blood smeared at the corner of Kyra’s mouth, the scorch marks on her suit, the tension in Kyros’s jaw.
“Step away from her, Conner,” he said, cold and clipped.
Kyros didn’t move. He raised his head slowly, defiant. “It’s Kyros. And maybe if you ever paid attention, you’d know why I’m here.”
“This tech is unstable,” Kal-El said tightly, his eyes scanning the warship’s ruined core. “It could’ve wiped out the entire block. You don’t have the training to handle this.”
“I handled it just fine,” Kyros snapped. “You weren’t here. I was. She could’ve died.”
Kal-El’s jaw twitched. “I got here as soon as the alert hit—”
“And you still missed the part where your cousin almost got vaporized,” Kyros barked. “You’re always too late. Just like you were with me.”
Kyra pushed herself upright, grimacing from the strain. Her voice was sharp. “Enough. He saved me. He got here first. He didn’t hesitate.”
Superman glanced between them, his expression unreadable—but not unread by the crowd now spilling into the fringes of the ruined plaza. Phones filmed. Reporters whispered into mics. Civilians stared in awe—not at Superman—but at the teen who stood between him and Kyra, shoulders squared, not backing down.
“I don’t want a lecture,” Kyros said. “I want acknowledgment. You never came for me. You never even looked. But she did. She raised me. She taught me how to care. She showed me what it means to fight for someone other than yourself.”
“Conner—”
“Kyros,” he bit out. “You don’t get to call me by the name Lex gave me. You don’t get anything. You had your chance, and you let me rot in a lab while you played hero.”
Kyra didn’t interrupt. She didn’t need to.
Her silence gave him room to breathe, to speak the truth that had been gnawing at him for months.
“She’s my mother,” Kyros said, the words thunderous in their simplicity. “She’s the only parent I’ve ever known. And if I had to choose who carries the House of El’s legacy? I’d choose her every time.”
Kyra inhaled sharply, stunned.
And Superman—Kal-El—wavered. Just a flicker in his expression, a sliver of regret breaking through the mask.
Then Kyra spoke, voice cold as steel. “You’re not my father. You’re not his. You’re not the leader of this family. Not anymore. You’re Kal-El. That’s all.”
Gasps spread through the crowd. One reporter lowered his mic. A woman clutched her child closer.
The public heard it.
The world saw it.
The iconic S no longer belonged to Superman.
It belonged to Kyra. And to Kyros.
—
That night, headlines exploded across the world:
“Kryptonian Legacy Reborn: Kyra and Kyros Take Center Stage”
“Superman Overshadowed? Citizens Praise Kyra and Her Son for Heroic Defense”
“Kal-El’s Leadership Questioned After Battle Fallout”
“Kyra Revealed as Conner’s Adoptive Mother—Public Stands Behind Her”
Cat Grant didn’t hesitate. That evening, standing in front of the CatCo Media broadcast wall, she looked directly into the camera and declared:
“For years we’ve called her Supergirl. But she is no girl. She is a woman, a warrior, and a mother. And today, the world saw who she truly is. Kyra. And standing beside her, her son—Kyros. Remember those names. Because they are the future.”
—
Lena watched the footage from her office, arms folded, smirking slightly as Cat’s voice echoed through the speakers.
“Dramatic as ever,” she muttered.
Still... her hand lingered briefly over the image of Kara on screen. Tattered, defiant, incandescent. She shook her head fondly and didn’t say anything else.
Not even when her eyes misted slightly.
Cat raised a glass. “To forging your own path.”

---

Later that night, Conner sat cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by Tim, Dick, Damian, Artemis, Wally, Carter, and the others. Cassandra and Stephanie were curled up with snacks, Harper sprawled across the floor sketching name ideas. The batkids and the Young Justice crew were all buzzing.

“Kyros works,” Wally declared. “Sounds badass.”

“And Kryptonian,” Artemis agreed. “Matches Kyra. Obvious, but not copycat.”

Conner nodded slowly. “I wanted something that said... I’m part of her legacy. But not his.”

Carter grinned. “You’re finally cool enough for a codename.”

“You’re our mascot, Carter. Shush,” Damian deadpanned.

Everyone laughed. Conner smiled—genuinely.

---

But the high didn’t last forever.

The fortress study was crowded. Kara hadn’t expected everyone to show up, but somehow word had spread. The Batkids lounged on furniture and railings, Young Justice members filled in the floor space, and around the edges of the room stood figures like Diana, Oliver, Barry, and Bruce—gritty veterans with arms crossed and watchful eyes. Selina sipped tea like this was just another rooftop stakeout. Talia looked ready to murder someone for fun. Cat sat perched on a stool near the kitchen island, Lena beside her, arms crossed with an expression caught between amusement and genuine curiosity. Eliza and Alex stood close to Kara, quiet support at her back. Carter and Conner flanked her on the rug, seated cross-legged.

A simple question had started it all.

“What was Krypton really like?” Conner had asked, his tone hesitant. Not demanding—just... yearning.

Kara had smiled, trying to keep it light. “Krypton was... beautiful. Our skies were red, the buildings shimmered with living metal. We had art, science, philosophy. We reached heights Earth can’t even dream of.”

She pulled up a small glowing hologram of Kryptonian script, letting it hover above her palm. “This is our written language. One of them, anyway.”

Conner leaned in, fascinated, but quickly shook his head. “I’ve never seen that before. I didn’t even know we had different scripts.”

Kara blinked. “Lex didn’t teach you?”

“No.” He looked away. “He installed some cultural data, I think, but it was mostly strategic—military, weak points, threats. Not... history.”

She tried again, showing maps, planetary rotations, family crests—including the House of El’s. “Our crest symbolizes hope. Rao was our sun, our god. Kryptonian society was deeply tied to him, to balance, to legacy—”

“Who was Rao?” Conner asked.

Kara hesitated. “You don’t know?”

Conner shook his head. “Should I?”

The room went still.

Kara swallowed hard. Her voice wavered. “He was everything. Rao was life. We celebrated festivals in his name, our timekeeping revolved around him, our ethical code, even... our mourning rituals.”

She switched the hologram to a slow-turning model of Krypton’s solar system, and her hands trembled slightly. “There were—there were stories my mother told me, legends we passed down...”

“Do you remember any of them?” Conner asked, softly.

Kara didn’t answer.

She was staring at the projection, jaw tight, and the silence spread.

“I—I used to,” she whispered. “But I forgot. I’ve been trying so hard not to forget, but I... I forgot.”

Her eyes shimmered, the weight of everything pressing down at once—Krypton lost, her family scattered, Conner sitting before her looking like everything and nothing she remembered. A son who had none of the history he deserved.

She turned sharply, wiping at her face. “That’s enough for today.”

Then a voice, low and dry, cut across the loft.

“Stars above. The boy knows less than a four-year-old in the Fourth City.”

Every head turned.

Standing at the far archway, pale but upright, eyes glowing faintly with tired stubbornness—was Astra.

Her hair was damp from stasis fluid, her movements careful but strong enough to carry weight. Her voice hadn’t lost its edge.

Chaos erupted instantly.

Wally stood. “Is that—?”

Jason cursed. “Oh, hell no.”

Cass drew a knife. Damian was already halfway to her with a sword. Even Talia raised an eyebrow, impressed by the sudden tension. Diana looked ready to lasso someone. Barry flinched. Oliver reached for his bow.

Selina muttered to Bruce, “Did your pet Kryptonian forget to mention this?”

Bruce just sighed like someone whose Frankenstein experiment had wandered into the dinner party. “You weren’t supposed to wake up yet.”

Kara stepped forward, arms spread protectively. “Wait. Everyone just—wait. I was going to tell you.”

Lena crossed her arms. “When? After she had brunch with Conner?”

Kara rubbed the back of her neck, grimacing. “Lex... found her. Preserved her. He gave me the location as a favor. Kind of. I didn’t trust anyone else with it.”

“A favor?” Alex asked, stunned.

Cat’s eyes narrowed. “Is Lex allergic to gratitude or just irony?”

“Honestly, he said it was a ‘thank you gift’ for how I parent,” Kara muttered.

Tim blinked. “That’s... weirdly on brand.”

“Yeah,” Kara agreed. “The fact that no one expected it honestly says more about us than him.”

The tension finally started to settle, weapons lowered—if not fully sheathed.

Astra leaned against the frame. “Well. Since my dear niece is so obviously avoiding the topic...”

Kara groaned quietly. “Astra, don’t—”

“The House of El,” Astra continued, tone cool and knowing, “was, and technically still *is*, Kryptonian royalty.”

Silence fell again.

“Excuse me?” Bruce said flatly.

“Oh yes,” Astra said, almost amused. “They ruled for millennia. Gave up the crown ‘in the name of progress’ but never actually surrendered their power. They remained kingmakers. Untouchable. The House of El didn’t fall—they evolved.”

Kara’s face was crimson. “Aunt Astra—!”

“What?” Astra said, smug and sharp. “He’s your son. He deserves to know. So does everyone else. You wear that crest, Kara, and you’ve never explained what it means to those around you. That’s a choice.”

Conner blinked slowly. “So... you’re telling me I’m royalty?”

Carter gasped. “You’re a space prince?!”

Wally immediately shouted, “I knew it!”

Kara groaned louder and slumped into the nearest chair, hiding her face. “I hate all of you.”

Conner leaned forward on the couch, brows furrowed. “So wait… we were royalty?”

Astra raised an elegant brow, then looked to Kara with open amusement. “You didn’t tell him?”

Kara, arms folded tightly across her chest, groaned softly. “I didn’t think it was important.”

“Not important?!” Cat and Lena said at the same time.

Kara shot them both a withering look. “Krypton is gone. Our caste system, our titles — they don’t exist anymore. We’re not on Krypton. We’re on Earth. I’m just... Kara Danvers here.”

“But you’re not just Kara Danvers,” Lena said gently. “You’re also Kyra. And you’re the last of a legacy.”

Astra placed a hand on the back of a chair and regarded them all with something almost regal in her gaze. “The House of El was Krypton’s royal line. The ruling bloodline. While our world claimed to have moved beyond monarchy, in practice… the House of El never stopped holding power. They simply wore different names for it.”

Conner shifted, uncertain. “So Krypton really had a caste system?”

“Yes,” Astra confirmed. “Nine castes, rigid and absolute.”

She began to speak with the measured cadence of someone who had once lectured troops and senators alike.

“Royalty Caste – The sovereign house. Kara’s father’s line. The House of El. The only family within this caste. All others bent knee, even if they didn’t say the words aloud.”

Kara sighed. “It wasn’t like being a king or queen on Earth.”

“It was exactly like that,” Astra said smoothly. “Just wrapped in science and law instead of crowns and thrones.”

“Warrior Caste – My caste. Her mother’s as well. Elite protectors. Combat instructors, generals, planetary defense. Trained to be dangerous, conditioned to be loyal.”

Conner gave her a wary glance. “...Sounds intense.”

“Oh, it was,” Astra said, pleased.

“Scholar Caste – Scientists, historians, engineers. They built Krypton’s future with their minds. Jor-El may have been Royal, but he studied with the Scholars.”

“Political Caste – Bureaucrats, diplomats, council members. They organized legislation and governmental structure—but always deferred to Royalty.”

“Military Caste – Standard troops. Enforcers. They served both Warrior and Political castes depending on need.”

“Artisan Caste – Architects, craftsmen, engineers. They made Krypton “beautiful”, they shaped the cities with crystal and light.”

“Merchant Caste – Traders, resource handlers, economy runners. Vast power in commerce. Controlled planetary imports, exports, and interstellar finance.”

“Healer Caste – Doctors, geneticists, biological experts. They preserved Kryptonian health—and sometimes its eugenics.”

“Worker Caste – The laborers. The backbone of society. Builders, transporters, miners. Often underappreciated but indispensable.”

There was silence when she finished. Astra studied the room, as if daring someone to challenge her.

Tim whistled low. “That’s… a lot.”

Jason crossed his arms. “So basically Krypton had classes, and only a few people mattered.”

“No,” Kara said softly. “Everyone mattered. But not everyone was treated like they did. We’d started changing it. Caste assignments were loosening. But it was slow. Too slow.”

“Then why didn’t you tell us?” Lena asked, still staring at her.

“Because Krypton is gone,” Kara answered, a little sharper than intended. “There are no castes here. No crowns. No council. Just me. Just Conner. I didn’t want the past to shape who we have to be now.”

“But it’s part of you,” Cat said. “Part of him.”

Kara looked down, fingers curling at her sides. “I like being Kara Danvers. I like Kyra. I like that when I speak here, I’m not obeyed because of my last name or bloodline. I had to earn my voice.”

Astra tilted her head. “And yet your words hold weight.”

“That’s different,” Kara whispered.

Conner gave her a look that was part awe, part quiet respect. “So... I’m from royalty. But you’d rather we act like normal people?”

“Yes,” Kara said immediately. “Be better than them. Use the history, don’t let it use you.”

Astra smirked. “You sound like your mother.”

“Good,” Kara replied. “She was the strongest woman I ever knew.”

Cat, arms crossed, smirked. “Still doesn’t explain why you hid this. I mean, Lena’s corporate royalty. I’m media royalty. You could’ve completed the triangle.”

“I didn’t hide it,” Kara said defensively.

Lena raised a brow. “Oh really?”

Kara huffed. “I… forgot it was relevant.”

Everyone stared.

Carter turned to Damian. “I think our space prince just got dethroned by a space Empress.”

Damian nodded, almost reverently. “And she didn’t even want the title.”

Astra barked a short laugh, one of genuine amusement that startled a few of the younger vigilantes. “You boys have no idea.”

She stood a little straighter now, pale but visibly gaining confidence by the second. “You think Krypton was just a planet? A scientific utopia with too many rules and not enough time?” She shook her head. “Krypton was an Empire. Intergalactic. We once held the entire Abyss Dominion in our hands.”

The room quieted. Barry blinked. “The Abyss Dominion? That’s the ungoverned region—full of warring factions, outlaws, smugglers...”

“Exactly,” Astra said. “It wasn’t always that way. Little over half a century ago, it was under Kryptonian rule. Peaceful. Stable. Thriving. Because we held it in an iron grip and we kept the chaos out.”

She looked around at all of them, but her gaze stopped—pointed, deliberate—on Kara.

“Do you know why it's descended into lawlessness?” Astra asked, voice cold and calm. “Because Krypton vanished. And when we vanished, no one else stepped in. The systems collapsed. The leadership crumbled. The people—our former citizens—were left defenseless.”

Kara’s jaw clenched.

Astra took a step closer, her eyes now lit with something sharper, deeper. “And now, the one living heir to the House of El—who still breathes, still commands respect, still inspires entire star systems without even trying—pretends she is just another girl from Earth.”

Kara looked away.

“You could stop the worst of it,” Astra said, quieter now. “You could reclaim it. Not for glory, not for control—but to protect the innocent. The House of El wasn’t feared, Kara. We were loved. Because we gave them peace. And they haven’t had it since.”

The silence that followed was oppressive.

Conner turned slowly toward Kara, stunned. “You never said—”

“Because it doesn’t matter anymore,” Kara said, her voice small. “I’m not interested in building a throne out of what’s left of a dead planet.”

“But the people aren’t dead,” Lena said softly. “Are they?”

Kara didn’t answer.

Cat, who had been quiet up until now, slowly leaned forward and said, “You don’t have to wear a crown to change the world. You already do that every time you show up. But if there are people out there still calling your name, still waiting for peace—they deserve to know you’re alive.”

Kara closed her eyes.

The weight of a legacy, long buried but never truly gone, rose around her like a tide.

She had no idea what she was going to do next.

But it felt like the universe had just reminded her that she was never just Supergirl.

She was Kyra of the House of El.

And the stars hadn’t forgotten her.