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It’s well past shift change at the DEO, and J’onn is sitting in his office trying to come up with a convincing reason to go home (he doesn’t need much sleep, and the thickness of Earth’s atmosphere makes it difficult anyway) when he realises that he isn’t the only daytime-shift agent still around. Alex—Agent Danvers, he corrects himself; it’s important to maintain protocol while on the base—is taking advantage of the additional space in her new lab to pace back and forth, clearly agitated about something. It doesn’t look like the pacing is helping. The director idly considers moving her to a smaller lab, or at least reinforcing her floor; he wouldn’t want her to wear a hole in the floor of a brand-new facility, after all, and he definitely wouldn’t want to have to deal with an angry kryptonian foster sister threatening a lawsuit if she injured herself in the process. He apparently spends some time considering the question, because by the time he looks up again, she has gone.
Following her psychic signature—he briefly allows himself to feel smug about how much more effective his psychic capabilities are compared to kryptonian super-senses—he finds that she’s apparently stepped outside to refocus her thoughts. He has to suppress the paternal urge to tell her not to lean so far out over the balcony, and a hand seems to clench over his heart when he remembers that K'hym used to do the same thing when she was watching the stars. He quietly positions himself beside her, his thoughts automatically synching up with hers, but she notices him before he can pick out anything of significance. She quickly and efficiently suppresses her emotions and switches her thoughts to something unrelated.
He sighs in frustration. Really, he only has himself to blame; he is the one who taught her this technique for shielding herself against telepathy, after all, but it’s downright annoying how good she is at it.
‘Sir’, she greets.
‘Agent Danvers.’ He pauses for a moment before continuing. ‘Something on your mind?’
She cracks a small smile as she turns to face him. ‘I’ve always preferred talking to the stars about my problems, but with all the light pollution here in the city, I can’t see a thing. In their absence, I guess you’ll have to do.’ Sobering, she continues, ‘Permission to speak freely, sir’? The director nods. ‘Are you sure you did the right thing, getting rid of our kryptonite reserves?’
He raises a finger to object. He’s well aware that this is not what was bothering her a moment ago, but he figures that if he can just keep her talking long enough, she’s more likely to return to whatever it was. ‘Hang on. Let’s be clear; I did not “get rid” of our kryptonite reserves. I transferred them from on-site storage to off-site storage at the Fortress of Solitude.’
She looks at him sceptically. ‘And you seriously believe that the same guy who abandoned his friendship with you over your refusal to destroy it is going to keep it in his own sanctuary? I would be very surprised if he hasn’t already tossed the crate into a decaying solar orbit.’ After a moment’s pause, he gives her a gesture of acknowledgement, and she continues. ‘But sir, his argument made no sense! Can you imagine if I or one of our other human agents decided that we were unwilling to work with the DEO as long as we used guns, for the reason that guns are a weapon whose primary purpose is injuring and killing humans? We’d laugh for a few minutes, dose him or her with an amnesiatic, and fire him or her without a second thought. While it’s true that Kal-El is a much more significant asset than any single human agent—’
He considers objecting to this statement; he’d much rather go into battle with her at his side than Superman, and he’s virtually certain Kara would say the same—and that’s leaving out her scientific prowess. Interrupting her, however, would run counter to his current goal of getting her to reveal what it is that’s upsetting her, so he lets it slide. ‘—that doesn’t make his argument any less absurd!’ At this point, she begins pacing and making agitated gestures, a fact Hank notes with some satisfaction; the more emotionally wound up she becomes, the more likely she is to tip her hand. ‘And he had the audacity to claim that you don’t care for Kara! Completely ignoring the fact that, if we hadn’t had kryptonite technology, Kara would be dead several times over! If we hadn’t trained her in the depower room, she would have been helpless against many of the threats she’s faced in the last year. Further, although we’ve never had occasion to use them, thank God, kryptonite-edged surgical tools would have given us the means to perform medical procedures on her—and him, for that matter—without inhibiting their natural regeneration the way red sunlight would.’ She pauses before adding in a positively venomous tone, ‘I hope he gets appendicitis’.
The martian considers this for a moment; as far as he can tell, it seems to be a non sequitur. ‘Unlikely, unless you want to import some pathogens from elsewhere in the galaxy. That’s an oddly…specific revenge fantasy.’
She makes a slight expression of embarrassment. ‘I used to have nightmares for years in which Kara would have appendicitis and I wouldn’t be able to help her, lacking tools strong enough to get through her skin. They didn’t stop until you recruited me and I saw your kryptonite knife. I mean, I knew it was ridiculous; like you said, terrestrial pathogens can’t overcome her solar-enhanced immune system, but fears like that aren’t always rational.’ She briefly remembers a particular incident from her childhood involving a popcorn maker, which utterly baffles Hank. It doesn’t help anything how fast her mind is; he’s only able to pick up a few images without actively attempting to dig. ‘Anyway, I suppose it would be poetic justice if it turned out he needed surgery just after getting rid of the only tools capable of performing surgery on him.’
Her boss nods and turns to look out at the stars again before answering. ‘Frankly, Agent Danvers, Clark is an infant. I may have given him all the kryptonite we had here, but you know as well as I do that it would have taken days to gather in all the kryptonite from our other facilities. And it’s only a matter of time before Lord Industries manages to synthesise it successfully.’
‘Sir?’
‘I would hope that Superman has enough sense to recognise the necessity of kryptonite technology, between Fort Rozz still floating somewhere in high orbit and our sleeping friend downstairs, but even if he does not, I will not allow Earth to be unprepared for whatever threats it faces. I already failed my first home, my first family. I will not fail you, too.’ Alex notes how similar this sounds to General Astra’s arguments, but she is not overly disturbed. For all her faults, Astra did have a point, and she came near to being redeemed in the end.
It does, however, take her a moment to shake the feelings of guilt that still wrack her any time she thinks of the general before replying. ‘That’s…not what I was asking, sir. What do you mean when you say that Clark is an infant?’
Hank considers for a moment before asking a question of his own. ‘What would you say is the key difference between your foster-sister and her cousin?’
‘Well, she knows a lot more about Krypton. Its culture and civilisation. I mean, she was an adolescent when she left; Clark was a baby.’
‘Exactly. Kara remembers Krypton, remembers living under a red sun. She remembers being mortal, and it is no coincidence that, while she was never enthusiastic about it, she never had a problem with our use of kryptonite. I, while I have always had the same capabilities I do now, remember being part of a society in which everyone had them. In a slightly different way, I, too, remember being mortal. Superman, by contrast, has lived his entire life as a god among men. Like Hercules, he could strangle a serpent in his crib; like Mercury, he could fly halfway across the world as a toddler. When we discovered kryptonite a half-dozen years ago, that was the first time he had ever felt truly helpless. He hides, probably even from himself, behind the noble façade of “trust” and “wanting to protect Kara”, but the truth is that he can’t stand the voice whispering in his ear, “respice post te, hominem te memento”. If helping him silence it nets us his cooperation as we work against Cadmus, I’ll do it.’
Alex is silent for a while, processing. J’onn is relieved to see that she agrees with his reasoning; he hadn’t been entirely sure of it himself, but he trusts her judgement. He waits some time, but when he realises that she’s purposefully looping her thoughts to prevent him from seeing her real problem without digging in her head, he decides to prompt her further. ‘Which actually brings me to something else I wanted to discuss. I’m considering taking a leave of absence as director of the DEO. As my 2IC, not to mention my friend, I figured I should keep you apprised.’
‘Not you, too!’ Hank inwardly raises his eyebrows. Finally, an emotional response. She takes a moment to collect herself. ‘Sorry for the outburst, sir. I’m just a little confused. With the situation with Cadmus, it seems like the worst possible time for you to leave.’
He sighs and looks away. ‘Actually, Cadmus is why I think I need to leave. If Cadmus is to be defeated, it must be by humans and meta-humans, not extra-terrestrials. If Superman, Supergirl, and the Martian Manhunter defeat Cadmus, we might just be proving them right, at least in some people’s minds: three alien demigods, crushing the native uprising against their interstellar colonialism. If we wish to propagate our own narrative, that humanity in its beneficence took in three interstellar refugees who now, in gratitude, seek to serve their adoptive homeland, we need to make sure that it is a human-led initiative that defeats Cadmus. Theoretically, I can stay on as Hank Henshaw, Director of the DEO, but we’ve no guarantee that Cadmus won’t be able to publicise that Hank Henshaw is the Martian Manhunter.’ He doesn’t have to add that such a revelation, that “the aliens” had infiltrated the very organisation supposed to defend earth from alien threats, would essentially prove Cadmus’ story in most people’s minds.
He very nearly cracks a smile at the string of expletives running through Alex’ head. She understands, but she is clearly not happy about it. He finishes the thought, ‘I would prefer that you take my place while I’m on leave, but if it is necessary, I will ask the president to bring in General Lane.’
This remark places the issue in much sharper relief, and Alex immediately straightens, grimaces, and says, ‘I see your point, sir. I…hope I can still call on you for advice’.
At that, he really does give a sly smile. ‘Speaking of which, Agent Danvers, don’t think I’ve forgotten; what exactly did you mean when you said, “Not you, too”?’ Another string of expletives parades through Alex’ mind.
She turns away from him before replying, hesitantly, ‘Kara and I…had a sort-of fight earlier’.
He has to resist the urge to snort. That much was obvious. Dr Alexandra Danvers is notorious for being downright inhuman in her stoicism. It is common knowledge that Kara is the only person capable of prying an emotional response out of her. (Hank briefly considers the irony that the only member of their little found family who is actually human is also the worst of the three at passing for human).
She spends a long time considering how to explain further, and J’onn is torn between annoyance and pride at the fact that she is somehow able to prevent him from seeing her thoughts even now that she’s thinking about it actively; if she didn’t already have too many duties, he would want her to replace the agency’s current instructor in resisting psychic influences.
Finally, she speaks. ‘She got the idea into her head to move to Metropolis to be closer to Superman. Apparently she’d been sort-of fired from CatCo and was feeling abandoned by Clark, so she thought she’d go after him this time. Big surprise, girl who loses her entire planet at 14 has abandonment issues.
‘Anyway. I…did not express myself well. She seemed to be under the impression that I would be better off if she left, would prefer not to have to keep working with her. I was trying to explain that most of my life would lose its meaning without taking care of her and being taken care of by her, but…well, as Winn pointed out to me earlier, it sort of came across as me complaining about all the things I’d given up to take care of her. Which, I don’t know, maybe I am a little resentful of that; she certainly seemed to think so when she was high on synthetic kryptonite. Certainly it’s an issue for us to be aware of and try to work through. But no matter how bitter or resentful I might be about all the things I’ve sacrificed to help her, to be with her, I can say with absolute certainty that I would sacrifice them all again. I love her so much, and it…hurts, seeing her be so casually intimate with someone who has put almost no effort into getting to know her. Clark has some kind of shortcut to her affection, and I definitely resent that.’ She trails off.
After a moment or two, Hank cautiously suggests, ‘Has it occurred to you to explain exactly that? Use those exact words’?
She rubs her hand across her face and makes a noise of disapproval. ‘The trouble with that is that I sound a hell of a lot more like a jealous lover than a foster sister when I start talking about Clark.’ And the pieces fall into place.
He turns to face the stars with her and prompts, ‘You know you are going to have to clear the air with her at some point. You can’t just keep ignoring issues like this, or her behaviour during the red K incident. Unconditional love means forgiveness, but that doesn’t mean you don’t still need to talk about it’. Her thoughts are still confused and unsure. ‘Alex, she told you this afternoon that you are her home. Not Krypton, not Earth, certainly not Clark. Your relationship is not threatened by anything you could discuss or refuse to discuss. But it’s going to be a lot healthier and happier if you discuss this now, before it has the chance to fester.’
She nods reluctantly and moves to go back inside, hopefully in order to go speak with the foster sister he can feel sitting with the unknown kryptonian downstairs. She pauses midstride. ‘Hank…thanks’.
He worries briefly about protocol, but decides quickly that, since they aren’t technically inside the building it doesn’t matter. He pulls her in for a brief hug. ‘Any time.’