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potionsprefect · 3 years

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A United Workforce

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke, June Hirata x Tobias Carrick, Danny Cardinal x Sienna Trinh (all minor)

Word count: 4k

Summary: How did those associated with the victims cope with the Senator attack?

Missing moments during Open Heart book 2 chapter 11

Rating: Teen

Category: angst

Warnings: mentions of the events during chapter 11 of Open Heart book 2

Diagnostics Room 1:10pm

June had been smiling at her phone for the last 20 minutes, much to the amusement of Baz who was sat reading a medical book.

“What’s made you so happy June?” Baz asked.

June looked up a little too quickly but kept a cool and composed face. “Is a woman not allowed to be happy without a reason?”

“Not when it comes to you.” Baz chuckled.

“Ok fine. Let’s just say I got lucky.” June shrugged.

“Anyone I know?”

“Even if you did you wouldn’t have a witty remark to say about him.”

Baz rolled his eyes and went back to his book. June continued to text Tobias:

My place or yours tonight?

It didn’t take long for a reply.

That depends. How quickly can you put the key in your front door?

June smirked at the reply but before she could answer his question her pager went off.

Diagnostics Room - emergency

She looked at Baz who was looking at her with the same confused look.

“You don’t think somethings happened to the Senator?” Baz asked.

“Whatever it is, it sounds urgent.” June jumped out of her chair and hurried out the door, Baz following her quickly behind.

They sprinted down the hallway and down the stairs where they found Ethan pacing nervously.

“Ethan what’s happened?” Baz asked.

“Travis has released something dangerous in the room with Victoria inside. Rafael Aveiro, Danny and Bobby are also inside.” Ethan explained.

“Do we know what it is?” Baz said.

“No, there could be hundreds of options. We desperately need to find out what it is. Bobby has already died and the others are critical.” Ethan took a deep breath but his voice was still shaky.

“Take a deep breath. We need to stay calm for Victoria. If we panic, it’ll give her reason to panic.” June said looking at Ethan. Given the recent conversation she had with Victoria, she was convinced that her and Ethan were in some sort of relationship. And given how panicked he looked right now, June was sure she was right.

“You’re right. We can’t panic. We need to keep a level head.” Ethan said grabbing a hazmat suit. “We’ll need to put these on to protect ourselves.”

“Are there any traces in the room?” June asked as the three headed down the corridor.

“No whatever was in the can has been fully discharged. There were no traces anywhere.” Ethan replied.

“So whatever it is only lives within their bodies?” Baz said.

“Exactly. It could be a long night.”

June’s mind drifted to all the obstacles they had faced in the past. None were as serious as this but they hadn’t been beaten yet and were certainly not going to be beaten now.

Whatever this was would not win. Not if she had anything to say about it.

— — — — —

Room 516 1:23pm

The nurse looked at her colleague as he took shallow breaths in the glass box, his oxygen mask trying to help him as much as it could.

“Danny, listen to me, you are not dying you hear me!” Sarah said through tears. “You are not leaving us so soon.”

Danny gave a weak chuckle, momentarily taking off his oxygen mask. “Well now I know I can’t even observe the Grim Reaper from a distance.”

“This isn’t funny Danny.” Sarah sighed.

“I know it’s not. But that’s how I deal with situations.” Danny replied.

Marlene then entered the room in a hazmat suit, her bloodshot eyes showed she had been crying.

“Oh Danny. How did you get yourself entangled in all this.” Marlene sighed.

“You know me. Always looking for trouble.” Danny chuckled.

Danny’s breathing turned into slight wheezing, it was clear he was struggling to breathe. Sarah, who’s hand was holding one of Danny’s noticed the grip had weakened.

“No, no Danny. Danny? Stay with us. You’ve got to keep your eyes open. Don’t shut your eyes.” Sarah pleaded but it was a losing battle.

Danny��s eyes flickered, as if he was desperately fighting to stay awake but he couldn’t. His eyes shut and his hand dropped away.

“Page the diagnostics team.” Sarah said. Marlene nodded and grabbed her pager writing the message as quickly as she could.

Danny wasn’t moving. His breaths were short and shallow and his body was desperately trying to fight whatever was in his system.

Whatever this was was cruel. And it was effecting everyone.

— — — — —

Mass Kenmore 1:38pm

Aurora smiled to herself as she walked out of a patients room, file in hand. She had successfully diagnosed a benign tumour in the breast of a patient and was happy that it would simply have to be removed in surgery.

Aurora was always glad to give news like that because it wasn’t just the news the patient hoped for. Delivering good news was always better than delivering bad news.

Aurora filled in the chart and filed it away, satisfied with her work. As she looked up she saw a face looking at her.

“Successful diagnosis Aurora?” The Doctor asked.

Aurora did all she couldn’t to hold back a sarcastic retort. She didn’t like socialising with this doctor outside of the hospital walls. Not after what he did.

“Yes Dr Olsen.” Aurora gave him a thin smile.

“That’s great. Personally I’ve diagnosed three patients this morning but whose counting?” Landry smirked.

“You by the sounds of it.” Aurora retorted. She’d have this one only once.

A flicker of surprise danced across Landry’s face but he hid it well and recomposed himself.

“So how is... uh... everyone?” Landry fidgeted.

“Why do you care?” Aurora asked.

“I’m just making conversation.”

“Well don’t. I don’t want to speak to you. And neither would anyone here if they found out what you did back at Edenbrook.” Aurora glared.

“You can’t talk to me like that!” Landry glared back.

“And what are you going to do about it? Turn off my pager? Hide my charts? Spread hurtful rumours to my colleagues about me? Is that how low Landry Olsen will go?” Aurora got in his face.

“I’d do it again if it meant fairness for all.” Landry sneered.

“You little-“

Aurora’s phone cut off the sentence. She looked at her phone

You need to get over to Edenbrook NOW. Something’s happened to Victoria.

Aurora froze. Her and Victoria weren’t on the best of terms at the minute. Her outburst at the baseball match was over the top.

But from Elijah’s text, Victoria sounded like she was in danger. And if she was in danger, Aurora was going to be there for her.

“Aurora?” Landry’s voice tore her away from the text.

“I... I have to go.” Aurora said, putting her things down and straightening her coat.

“Is everything ok?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“You walk out of here and I’ll tell Tobias you’re bunking off.”

Aurora whipped her head round and strode up to Landry, gripping his arm tightly.

“You do that and I’ll tell everyone in this hospital what a snivelling little rat you really are, how you’ll do anything to make sure you’re in the graces of Kenmore’s gods. How Landry Olsen already fucked it up once and will almost certainly do it again because he cares about no one but himself. And if he ever thinks about trying the stunts he pulled off at Edenbrook, he will be out of this hospital faster than Usain Bolt’s 100m world record.” Aurora said through gritted teeth before she let go of Landry’s arm and walked out the hospital.

She ran down the street as fast as she could, dodging everyone in quick movements, desperate to get to Edenbrook. The tone of the text made it sound serious and the panic rising in Aurora’s chest wouldn’t settle until she knew what was going on.

Aurora entered the hospital searching the large reception area for any sign of her roommates, when she couldn’t see them she headed further into the hospital, finding them by the nurses station.

“I got here as fast as I could.” Aurora panted, the panic in her chest was made worse by the grave look on her roommates and Bryce’s face. “What’s happened?”

“There’s been an attack on the Senator. His aide released something in his room with Victoria and Rafael inside, Danny and Bobby the security guard were also there as well.” Bryce explained as they rushed upstairs.

“What was it?” Aurora asked.

“We don’t know. Travis didn’t say what was in it.” Bryce sighed.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” Sienna looked at Aurora.

“Whatever is going on between Victoria and I doesn’t matter right now. What matters is I’m here for her. And she’d do the same.” Aurora said. “I’m sorry you’ve all been caught in the middle of it this past week, I don’t think either of us want you taking sides.”

“What’s important is we’re all here for her now. And Rafael. Whatever this is, it sounds bad. Doctor Ramsey was organising for a decontamination tent so he and the diagnostics team can enter and exit the room safely.” Bryce explained.

“That makes it sound toxic.” Elijah shuddered.

“We have to keep positive. For Victoria and Raf’s sake. They’re probably terrified.” Jackie sighed.

“Agreed. If we panic, they’ll panic. We have to stay strong.” Sienna replied.

Aurora nodded and continued rushing down the corridor where Victoria and Rafael were. When she saw them, her heart stopped.

“Oh thank god you’re still standing.” Aurora said.

Their bodies looked tired, their eyes bloodshot, their hair disheveled. Rafael looked much worse than Victoria. He looked pleased to see them whilst Victoria looked slightly anxious.

“You guys shouldn’t be here.” Victoria sighed.

“Don’t be silly. As long as we stay on this side of the door we’ll be fine.” Jackie sighed.

“How did you get here Aurora? You’re supposed to be at Mass Kenmore.”

“I cut out as soon as Elijah text me. You’re in trouble so I’m here. That’s that.”

She could’ve sworn she saw Sora out the corner of her eye but she didn’t take her eyes of Victoria, desperate to show her that she was determined to put the past behind her and be here for her now. Whatever had happened had been long forgotten.

Aurora was determined to help cure whatever had gotten inside Victoria’s body. And she wouldn’t rest until she found a cure.

— — — — —

Labratory 6:25pm

This must’ve been the hundredth vial of blood Ethan had looked at today. He put it in the machine and waited for the results. It was a repetitive process and Ethan was beginning to get frustrated.

Ticking off every possible cause one by one was irritating him. They needed to find out what it was, they didn’t have time to go through every possible idea. If they continued with this much longer, Victoria and Rafael’s system could shut down.

Images of Victoria flashed through his mind. He felt like he was letting her down. He had managed to solve everything they had faced before. Why was this so difficult?

Before Ethan could find out the results from the machine, his pager went off.

Code blue room 516.

“Shit!” Ethan said out loud and took off down the corridor, June hot on his heels.

“Did you get the same page?” June shouted, their footsteps loud on the hard floor.

“Yes! We can’t lose him. We can’t.” Ethan’s voice cracked and he could feel tears forming in his eyes.

Ethan and June quickly put on the hazmat suit and burst through the door.

“His BP’s low.” Marlene said working through the monitors.

“I can’t feel a pulse.” Sarah said looking at the doctors.

“Start CPR and push the adrenaline.” June instructed.

Ethan grabbed the crash cart, he desperately tried to stop his hands from trembling.

“Stand back.” Ethan said, he placed the pads on Danny’s chest and shocked him. There was no improvement.

“Push lidocaine.” June said to Sarah who nodded.

Another 15 minutes went by and there was still no change in Danny’s condition. Panic had fully set in Ethan’s chest and judging by the looks of his colleagues, they felt the same way.

“Ethan.” June said taking the panels off him. She gently put them down. “He’s gone.” There were tears rolling down her face.

Ethan wasn’t sure he heard her, the sound of the monitor was deafening. He stared down at Danny, it looked as if he was sleeping. That he would wake up at any point.

But Ethan knew he wouldn’t.

“Time of death 6:51.” Ethan said in a shaky voice. He looked over at June who was looking down at Danny with sad eyes, Sarah and Marlene were crying quietly. Ethan then looked up and regretted it instantly.

Sienna was stood outside the window, being held up by Jackie, crying her eyes out. Ethan’s heart broke for her. He was sure if it was Victoria in front of him he’d have the same reaction.

Ethan didn’t even want to think about that. Losing Victoria would mean the end of the world for him.

As June turned off the monitor, Ethan headed out the room and took off the hazmat suit. He approached Sienna and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and before he could react, she went to hug him, still crying, gripping the lapels of his lab coat.

Ethan didn’t hesitate to comfort her. He had shared his feelings for Victoria with her not that long ago and right now she needed a shoulder to cry on. He was sure she’d be comforting him if it was the other way round.

“We got the results back from the machine.” Jackie said quietly, her eyes glistening with tears.

“And?” Ethan asked.

Jackie’s hesitation told Ethan everything he needed to know.

“It’s not good news.”

— — — — —

Labratory 6:28pm

Baz glanced at his two colleagues as they sprinted out the door. His pager had also gone off but he decided to wait for the results from the machine. June and Ethan were more than capable of handling whatever they were about to face.

The beeping of the machine startled him and he reached over and ripped out a set of results. Baz scanned them, seeing lots of ticks everywhere. He breathed a sigh of relief but then he noticed what it said next to them.

A maitotoxin.

Baz’s heart sank. It wasn’t good news. Yes they knew what it was but maitotoxins were deadly and there was no cure to them.

Fuck you Travis.

“What is it?” Aurora asked.

Baz handed her the results. The others craned their necks trying to read what the paper said. Their faces faded as their eyes scanned it. Sienna let our a little whimper, Jackie kicked the chair in frustration, Bryce ran his hands through her hair and Elijah felt a tear roll down his cheek.

“Is there nothing we can do?” Bryce shakily asked.

“I’m afraid not.” Baz sighed, tears swimming in his eyes.

“We should tell Ethan and June.” Jackie nudged Sienna and she nodded as they both headed out the room.

“How did he get ahold of that?!” Elijah sighed.

“We may never know.” Baz sighed.

Aurora who still held the results in her hand tossed the paper away and pulled her phone out her pocket. “The fights not over yet.” She said and she headed out the door as her phone rang.

“Pick up pick up pick up.” Aurora muttered hoping she would hear the voice she wanted to hear.

“Dr Emery?” A voice said.

“Thank god you answered.” Aurora sighed in relief.

“Where are you? Doctor Olsen said you ran out of the hospital hours ago? What’s going on?” Tobias asked.

“There’s been an incident at Edenbrook. Senator Farrugia’s aide Travis has deployed a maitotoxin in his hospital room with Doctor Clarke inside.”

“A maitotoxin?”

“Yes! It turns out he’s been poisoning the Senator in some sort of revenge plan. We need all the help we can get. Please Tobias. One person had already died and two others are seriously ill. We need your help.” Aurora pleaded. She had never resorted to begging for help, but this was a life or death situation.

“I’ll grab the team and we’ll be right over. Clarke’s not dying. Not on my watch.” Tobias said.

“Thank you Tobias.” Aurora said and hung up. She headed back into the room where she saw Baz staring at his pager. “What is it?”

Baz handed her his pager and Aurora’s heart stopped.

Danny died. Rafael is in a coma.

Tears were spilling down Aurora’s face. Travis’ actions had claimed another life and Rafael was going downhill.

They needed a cure and they needed it now.

— — — — —

Hospital Corridor 2:56am

The Paediatric wing was one of the most decorative floors in the hospital, pictures of sea animals lined the walls, hoping to calm the children who were sent there for treatment down.

Bryce wasn’t sure why he was walking around this specific floor. He had intended to check on Kyra again but had taken a detour mid route. Maybe seeing the children sleep peacefully would help calm his nerves.

The team were working tirelessly to find a cure for Victoria and Rafael. He had already lost Danny, he couldn’t lose two other friends. He felt helpless. He was only a surgeon who could offer ideas, it was the doctors who put the theories to use.

Bryce came to a stop outside Kyra’s room. She was sleeping peacefully. Her chest was heavily bandaged but she was alive. She had made it through the worst.

“Your friend is very lucky.” A familiar voice said. Bryce turned his head and saw Dr Tanaka walking towards him.

“Any complications?” Bryce asked.

“None. Her vitals are good. I think she’ll make a full recovery.”

“That’s great.”

“How’s it going upstairs?”

“Not great if I’m honest but we’re trying to stay positive.” Bryce sighed.

“Don’t give up hope Lahela. Hope is never lost.” Tanaka said before he headed off back down the corridor.

Bryce took one last look at Kyra before he headed back upstairs to where the team were working, determined not to let the maitotoxin win.

They would find a cure. And they would find it soon.

— — — — —

Labratory 4:02am

“The moment of truth.” Tobias said. He took the pipette in his hand and gently squeezed it.

This was it. If this wasn’t the cure they would be back to square one. Everyone watched with baited breath. You could hear a pin drop.

They were almost waiting for the worst. They had been back and forth so many times, if this didn’t work they wouldn’t be surprised.

And in the blink of an eye, they had the answer they had been hoping and praying for.

It has worked. The compound was sure not to bind to the plasma membranes. It would attach to the toxin.

Cheers flooded the room. Sienna practically burst into tears. There were hugs to go all around.

They had done it.

“We need to give it to them. Now.” Tobias said.

“Go to Rafael first. He’s much more serious.”Jackie said.

June and Baz nodded and rushed out the room.

“Did Ethan stay with Victoria all night?” Tobias asked.

“Looks like it. I think he wanted to keep her company.” Sienna replied.

“Is that all?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve known Ethan for a long time. He’s never shown this much dedication to someone ever. He’s completely infatuated with her.” Tobias chuckled.

Sienna, mindful of the conversation she had with Ethan earlier replied “he cares about her a lot because they work closely together.”

“With all respect Doctor Trinh I think he cares about her a lot more than you think. You should’ve seen him at Mr Bloom’s mansion. Ethan was prepared to walk out of there and never see the man again but Doctor Clarke was the only one who could’ve persuaded him to stay. And he did. Because of her.” Tobias said.

“Would you say he’s-“

“Madly in love with her? Yes I would. Now all he has to do is tell her.” Tobias laughed a little.

Sienna thought back to the conversation she had in Ethan’s car.

I decided it would be better for her career if we kept our distance.

She knew how much Victoria cared for the older doctor but she didn’t realise just how much. She thought catching her sneaking him out of her room last year was just blowing off some steam.

It was clearly much more than that.

— — — — —

Room 172 8:21am

Sienna’s eyes were so puffy from crying she could barely keep them open, the fatigue was catching up on her. Her whole body was sore.

She was currently sat outside Rafael’s room on the floor, desperately praying for him to wake up. Victoria was out of the woods. Now it was all down to Rafael to get the all clear. One down one to go.

Her heart ached for Danny and Bobby. Bobby always said hello to her whenever she arrived for her shift, whenever she was feeling down his jokes would cheer her up.

But Danny held the biggest spot in her heart. Joint with Victoria of course.

She always thought there was a little spark there. She knew he felt it too. Now she would be kicking herself for not pursuing it sooner. They could’ve had months together before all this.

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks again and she didn’t even try and stop them.

“Doctor Trinh he’s awake!” Sarah said from the doorway.

Sienna scrambled to her feet and approached Rafael’s bedside.

“Rafael? Can you hear me?”

“Sienna?” Rafael’s eyes darted to her.

“Look at me. Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah. The attack on the Senator. Wasn’t I just talking to Victoria? Where am I now?” Rafael groaned.

“Take it easy, you were in a coma.” Sienna replied.

“What?! Did you find a cure? Is Victoria ok?” Rafael tried to sit up but winced in pain.

“Rafael no sudden movements! We found a cure. You’ve both been given it. Victoria’s fine, she’s recovering down the hall.” Sienna glared at him.

“Thank god.” Rafael breathed a sigh of relief.

Ethan then walked in the room and asked Rafael similar questions. When he was certain Rafael was clear, he turned to Sienna.

“You better go tell Victoria. I know she’ll be glad to hear Mr Aveiro’s ok. Good work Doctor Trinh.” Ethan smiled.

Sienna beamed and sprinted out the door and down the corridor, telling everyone and anyone she saw that Rafael was ok.

— — — — —

Room 172 9:34am

“Did someone say there was a party in here?” Bryce stuck his head in Rafael’s room.

“It ain’t a party until Bryce turns up.” Victoria laughed from one of the seats next to Rafael’s bed.

“Good answer.”

“Where’s Aurora?” Jackie asked.

“She’s got a shift soon, she went home to get some sleep.” Victoria replied.

“I can’t wait to hit my bed and not be interrupted for at least twelve hours.” Jackie sighed.

“Twelve? Catch me not waking up in fifteen.” Elijah laughed.

“Doctor Ramsey’s given us today off. Although he’s making us come in at 6am tomorrow.” Sienna said when Victoria shared a confused look with her.

“The more things change the more others stay the same huh?” Victoria laughed a little.

“Just work your magic on him, I’m sure he’ll bend the rules then.” Jackie winked.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sure.”

“I’m glad you two are ok. I don’t know what would’ve happened if...” Sienna trailed off, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“You don’t have to think like that Sienna. We’re ok. Not perfect but we’re alive.” Rafael took her hand.

“We’re not going anywhere Sienna. We’re here. I promise.” Victoria smiled.

“Last night was awful. I’m glad it’s behind us.” Sienna smiled sadly.

Victoria looked round at her friends all nodding in agreement. Her heart filled with warmth.

“Me too.”

— — — — —

Thank you for travelling on the angst train to your heart. We hoped you enjoyed your journey 😉

Hope you enjoy this! (If enjoy is the right word 😂🤷🏼‍♀️) Lmk if you would like to be tagged. I’m gonna go cry now 😢

Tag list: @ohchoices @openheartfan @queencarb @genevievemd @iemcpbchoices @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @alina-yol-ramsey @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @stygianflood

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #june hirata #tobias carrick #june hirata x tobias carrick #danny cardinal #sienna trinh #danny x sienna #play choices #pixelberry #fanfic #angst

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gldngrl7 · 7 years

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Karamel Fic: Damage Control (3/5)

Author’s Notes:

Thought I would wait and post this tomorrow, but then I thought...’who wants to read fic on Monday night?’ So here you go!

Title: Damage Control

Author: gldngr7

Rating: Explicit

Chapters: 5

Feedback: Encouragement and constructive criticisms are always welcome. Flames are destroyed with my freeze

Chapter 3/5

Something about you, it’s like an addiction

Hit me with your best shot honey

I’ve got no reason to doubt you, but certain things hurt

And you’re my only virtue

And I’m virtually yours.

--James Arthur – “Certain Things”

She’s up with the birds. She sings in the shower. She dances across her bedroom floor towards her closet where she picks out a faux-wrap pink blouse and pairs it with a black and pink floral skirt. It’s short and full and flowy – and a little bit dangerous. Opening the lingerie drawer of her wardrobe chest she removes a matching bra and panty set. Remembering her promise to Mon-El, she smiles and drops the black panties back into the drawer while her belly performs a series of high dives.

Today, her suit would be tucked conveniently away in a duffle bag and carried with her to work just in case of a crisis, the amount of time needed to change into it negligible in terms of super speed. She learned that from Barry, who rarely wore his suit under his clothes, instead returning to StarLabs to change when called upon. And she was at least as fast as Barry.

Okay – almost as fast. Which is why the suit would never be far from her.

Dressing at speed, she’s slipping into her black heels a second later and smoothing down her skirt. Her glasses are on, her hair is in a perfectly coiffed up-do, light make-up is neatly applied, and in the mirror she appears every inch the prim and proper cub reporter, Kara Danvers. But that’s not who she is anymore…not completely. Part of her feels like today she’s taking on a third, separate identity and this one she’s creating on her own terms. She has a secret, and it’s not the kind that shakes a city to the core; it’s the kind that shakes her to core. The sensation of the freedom she feels beneath her skirt is like the freedom he gives her—to know it is okay, if not healthy, to surrender control from time to time.

In the living room she turns on the television to receive a shot of news along with her first hit of morning caffeine. As usual, there is a story already in progress. A split screen shows the morning anchor, Gage Carson, at this his desk holding a hand up to his earpiece, while a female reporter appears on the opposite side, apparently at the scene of an early morning accident on the Otto Binder Bridge. Though young, perhaps only a few years older than Kara, the reporter exudes the assertive confidence of a professional, smartly dressed in a burgundy suit with a navy blue overcoat and matching leather gloves. One hand holds a microphone, and the other presses to an earpiece like Carson’s; her straight, dark hair stubbornly defies the wishes of the early, morning late December winds coming off the bay.

Across the bottom of the screen the disturbing, flashing crawl of breaking news reads, “New Superman in Town?”

“CityWorks tells us that the inbound lanes of the bridge will be closed for the rest of the day while crews work to restore and strengthen the damaged guardrail. Commuters are being asked at this time to re-route through the Queensgate Tunnel. As you might expect, Gage, this will make traffic a hairy situation for many Nationalites for the rest of the day.”

“What more have you learned about the accident that caused the bridge closure, Julie?” Carson asks.

“Well, Gage…witnesses at the scene reported that the car and its passengers would not have survived the crash through the guardrail were it not for the sudden intervention of this previously unknown superhero. One of the vehicle’s passengers, a Mrs. Hailey Hardwick, claims that she spoke briefly with her rescuer and adamantly claims that his initial interaction with her was ‘caring’ and ‘calming’, though he took pains to hide his face.”

“Was she able to provide any kind of a physical description?”

“Yes, Gage,” she replies, glancing down at her reporter pad to read from the description. “She described this person as approximately six feet tall, mid-to-late twenties, well-built but not overly muscular, dressed in street clothes, wearing a black hoodie, and she thinks he may have had dark hair.”

“You mentioned at the top of the story that eyewitnesses claimed at first they believed it might possible be a visiting Superman, caught out of uniform….”

“Though they all make the same claim of witnessing Superman-like strength, the hero himself refuted that title. And when Mrs. Hardwick asked what she should call him, he indicated that she could call him ‘Valor’.”

“’Valor’,” Carson echoes, turning his attention to the camera in front of him and addressing the populace. “Well it appears that National City has another hero in its midst. Whether of alien origin or an emerging meta-human…we have yet to determine. At this time, we can only hope that his chosen moniker accurately reflects the behavior he wishes to display, but for now, all we can say is…it seems he’s off to a good start. Julie, any final thoughts? I’m sure those who are hearing your report are not looking forward to the drive in.”

“Public transportation is recommended wherever possible today. This is Julie Greer reporting to you from the Otto Binder Bridge for KNCN news. Back to you in the studio, Gage.”

“Thank you, Julie. Stayed tuned…we’ll have more on this story as it develops,” he promises the audience.

Kara collapses on the couch halfway through the report, her knees wobbly, and morning cup of coffee forgotten. Superman-like powers? Which Superman like powers? The news report was frustratingly unclear on this point, other than reporting a display of super strength.

She listens intently, though slightly shell-shocked from the news. While she had been sleeping, a new hero had risen – one that appears to be super powered. This is could be bad, especially if this new super remains unchecked.

Or ends up being better at this than she is….

“Valor,” she whispers. It sounds so familiar, the word tickling something in the back of her brain. The problem is that it’s not exactly a word people throw around in everyday conversation anymore, unless one is discussing military outcomes and medals awarded. But it feels like she’s heard it recently somewhere.

Typically she speeds to work in the mornings to get a jump on the other reporters who’ve already earned Snapper Carr’s favor, but this morning she decides to walk at normal speed, her duffel and purse thrown over her shoulder. It’s December in National City, Christmas is a week away, and it is a nippy fifty-two degrees outside. For the normally temperate city, the temperatures don’t usually get this low until at least February, so the other commuters are bundled up in coats like they’re expecting a Great Norther to roll in any minute.

Kara, on the other hand, unaffected by externally applied extreme temperatures (not that 52 degrees can even be considered extreme), wears only a light coat for appearances over her blouse and short skirt. She chose the skirt for the thick weightiness of its fabric, it’s unlikeliness to blow up in the event of a sudden gust.

Walking down the street, she feels like the center of attention. As though everyone can tell, just by looking at her, that she isn’t wearing any panties. Is Mon-El thinking of her right now, wondering how she’s feeling – if she’s feeling exposed? Kara stops in her favorite coffee shop a block from CatCo and waits in line for her mocha. Around her everyone seems to be talking about this new superhero, hearing the name over and over in multiple conversations.

“What kind of name is that anyway…Val-or?” a man asks the woman next to him in line, as Kara waited for her name to be called by the barista.

And that’s when she realizes exactly where she’s heard the name before. Three nights ago, when she was slowly stripping off her clothes for him while he enjoyed the show.

“Gods of Val-Or!” he’d said, rubbing the hard ridge in the crotch of his pants, as her panties slid down her legs. “You are the most breathtaking woman I have ever seen.”

“Gods of Val-Or,” she exclaimed aloud, the memory slamming into her. Immediately sorry for her outburst, Kara casts a quick glance around to make certain no one heart her. One man nearby turned on her a single eyebrow raised in interest. Averting her eyes and pressing her glasses tighter to the bridge of her noise, she shakes her head. “N-nothing…never mind. It was n-nothing,” she stutters. She’d seen that tactic work for Clark, and decides to give it a try. Sure enough, the man turns away as if he’d never seen her in the first place.

“Mon-El,” Kara realizes, the knowledge sweeping over her. Mon-El is ‘Valor’. He has to be, because nothing else make sense. Her heart flutters like the wings of a bird, as though trying to alight from her chest and soar away. Soar to him. He did something heroic, and it wasn’t because she was there to witness it, or because he expected to receive credit for it. In a million years, who would ever connect him to the name ‘Valor’? Except for her, and only then because he had a penchant for invoking the Daxamite Gods of Val-Or during moments of intimacy.

But what does this mean? Has he chosen a life of heroism? She must talk to him and discover the truth about what happened on that bridge last night. How did he know the passengers in that car needed help? How had he been near enough to help them in time?

“Danvers?” the barista calls, his tone bored. Kara steps forward to take the cup from the youth’s hand and weaves her way through the morning coffee crowd, its number already swelling to include the line that spills out of the door. She squeezes past the line, escaping onto the sidewalk only to be swept up in the throng of swiftly moving foot traffic.

Why was he out of the DEO after curfew, when he should have been checked into the building and sleeping soundly on the cot in his quarters? Why hadn’t he been sleeping soundly on the cot in his quarters? What had driven him into the night, miles from the DEO?

Anxiety wells up inside of her, born of a desire to see him, to touch him, to speak with him. If J’onn or Alex put the pieces together, or even take the intuitive leap that he’s Valor, then even she might not be able to save him from the reprisals. They could put him in a cage, taking away the freedoms that he already has. They’ll have to figure it out, together, how to keep this from happening. It would kill her to see him in a cage; not to mention the damage it could do to Mon-El’s already delicate psyche.

When Kara was new to this planet, still struggling to accept the loss of her homeworld and everyone she loved; being made to feel a part of something had been the key that kept her from shattering into pieces. The Danvers family, Midvale Junior High (as terrifying as it was), and even the Kent family, had all been tent poles holding the pain and grief above her head. Each played a part in ensuring that Kara felt safe and protected; like she belonged. Take that away from Mon-El and he could be crushed beneath the weight of his loss.

Her instinct is to go to him, to seek him out and gain a better understanding of what’s driving him to clandestinely break the rules he’s promised to obey. But she knows that could drive him deeper away. She must wait.

He will come to her, and odds are it will be sooner, rather than later. Even now, he’s thinking of her thinking of him, and when he can no longer stand the anticipation, he will seek her out. She will give him what he promised and then she will tell him what she knows and then hopefully, he will trust her with the truth.

Predictably, the office is abuzz with activity by the time she arrives. James Olsen stands in his office, arms crossed, and his back to the door, watching the myriad television screens that make up the wall behind his desk. He must catch a glimpse of her reflection as she walks in, because he speaks without turning around.

“I’ve already received three calls from Cat this morning,” he announces. “She’s pretty riled up?”

All the crawls on the screen are now touting the arrival of ‘Valor’. “Because she didn’t get to name him?” Kara asks.

“Because she didn’t get to name him,” James confirms. He tears his attention away from the screen and approaches her. “And because she insists we get the exclusive with this ‘Valor’. Who is this guy?” he asks. His voice lowers, since the question is directed at Supergirl and not his employee, Kara Danvers.

She says nothing, but provides a non-committal shrug, not wishing to outright lie to him.

“We’ve got to get something on this guy. Where did he come from? What does he want?”

“Maybe he just wants to help,” she supplies. “Like he did last night. Maybe he just saw someone in distress and decided to do something about it. He was wearing a hoodie, James, he obviously isn’t prepared to be the center of attention. He wouldn’t let anyone see his face.”

“That alone I find concerning.”

“Wait a minute?” she begins, pressing her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose. “Last month you were all about Guardian and that guy wears a mask I can’t even see through.”

“Guardian doesn’t have super powers,” James argues.

“That we know about,” she qualifies. “He’s been strangely difficult for the DEO to pin down. And besides, that doesn’t mean he’s not capable of abusing the power he does have. Not to mention it took 3.5 seconds for someone to start framing him for their crimes. Which makes him a vulnerable good guy, and there’s nothing more dangerous than a vulnerable good guy.”

James opens his mouth to debate the point and then closes it as though unable to provide a single rebuttal.

“Can you imagine what CADMUS might have tried to force me to do to keep Mon-El alive if Jeremiah hadn’t helped us escape?”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” James says softly, reflectively, a probing look in his eyes.

“Or anyone,” she covers. “It could have been anyone. Alex or you or Winn. Could’ve been anyone. It could have been bad, James. I can’t afford to be caught unawares like that again.”

“So it might be good to have another powered superhero in your corner to take some of the pressure off you.”

Momentarily affronted, Kara stiffens. “I’m fine,” she insists, raising her chin a notch. “There’s no pressure.” She takes a step toward James, crosses her arms, her eyes squinting, her forehead crinkling. “Why? Does it seem like there’s pressure?”

“I meant take some of the heat off,” he awkwardly chuckles. “Maybe with another powered superhero around, CADMUS might think twice about coming after you.”

“Or it might make them step up their efforts.” Kara sighs, disturbed by her own insight. “We really need to get Jeremiah back. We need to know what he knows.”

“There’s been nothing new?” he asks, sympathetically.

“Nothing. And it’s driving Alex crazy. She even has Maggie reaching out to her contacts. But so far….” Kara shakes her head.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure eventually someone will turn over whatever rock CADMUS is hiding under.”

“Yeah, it’s the ‘eventually’ part I’m worried about.”

“Kara? Do you think there’s any way you can find out who this ‘Valor’ is?” James asks, switching subjects.

“Why?” she inquires, suspiciously.

“Because you’re…you…you might have an advantage in tracking this guy down?”

“To do what?”

“To get the interview, Kara!” he laughs.

“Oh…oh! You want me to interview him?”

“I think that’s what I just said,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. James rolls his eyes up, as though reviewing the conversation mentally. “Yeah, that’s what I said. If you can catch him?”

Kara smiles, a secret smile. She changes her stance, cocking her hip to one side and crossing one ankle over another; the heat between her legs that’s been on a steady simmer since getting dressed this morning rockets up a few notches. She knows just how to catch him. Convincing him to comply, on the other hand, may take some work. Some very hard work. She balks though, for a moment. Is it right to use her connection to Valor to further her own career? Internally she asks herself a question she’s found both guiding and calming in the past.

What would Lois Lane do?

“Snapper won’t like it…” she probes, after receiving the answer to her internal query.

“You let me deal with Snapper. I mean…he already thinks you know Supergirl, right?”

“Right,” she replies. “Supergirl was my source on the underground alien fight club story.” Kara tosses some air quotes at the use of the word source. It occurs to her then, the other benefit of being assigned the Valor interview. If not her, someone else would be assigned to the story and that could be disastrous – especially if, by some miracle, they got close to the truth. With Kara spearheading the search for Valor, she buys them both the time to figure this thing out, and then control the story so that it breaks in just right way, allowing them to govern the information that leaks to the public. It’s the perfect opportunity to employ some damage control.

Even without knowing it, James Olsen handed her the solution to a big part of her problem. “Thanks, James,” she says, huge grin breaking across her face. “I promise I won’t let you down.”

“You’d better not,” he warns, good-naturedly. “I just handed you a career-maker on a silver platter.” He stands up a little straighter, his eyes drifting into the distance as though recalling a fond memory. “This could be your ‘I Spent the Night with Superman’.”

Just then, as if someone cued his entrance, a senior intern barrels into the room, with a handful of pink message slips. “Mr. Olsen, calls have been coming in for over an hour. All people who claimed to have seen Valor before last night’s bridge crash. What should I do with these?”

James smiles and gives Kara a pointed look and says to the intern, “Direct all enquiries and witness statements regarding Valor to one Miss Kara Danvers.”

The intern glances at her, she smiles, a grin that’s not altogether professional in nature (perhaps just a touch of gloating—just a smidge) and turns back to James. “Yes, sir.” He hands the slips to Kara before rushing back out into the bustling, phone-ringing bullpen.

“There you have it, Miss Danvers,” James says. “I believe you’ve got phone calls to return. Get to work.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” she faux salutes, her hand overflowing with pink message slips. “I’ll get right on it.”

Kara retreats immediately from James’s office, slinking quietly away to the office few people know about. Cat had bestowed the office upon her, once she deemed Kara had outgrown the position as her assistant. She rarely used the office, since she prefers her desk in the center of it all, in the bustling reporter bullpen outside of Snapper’s office. But the secret, small corner office, that stood empty long before Cat’s generous gift, serves an even more important purpose. It’s where she retreats when Supergirl is needed and she needs to make a quick, under-the-radar escape.

She stuffs her duffel into the large bottom drawer of the desk and locks it with a tiny key attached to her badge lanyard. Her metal desk, that she’s sure has been around since World War II, contains all the basic office supplies as well as a laptop locked into a docking station, and an auxiliary monitor. The phone is already set to forward, so that it rings in this office as well as in the bullpen, and already the message lights are blinking.

Kara sets to work returning calls, getting statements, using her super speed to take notes. There is nothing she doesn’t already know, hearing from witnesses to both the Ferris Hospital fire and the Parasite incident. Though some of them provided a better, more accurate description than Mrs. Hardwick had. “I’ll just conveniently lose those,” Kara mutters to herself, scribbling out the descriptions, but leaving in the other quotes.

Her stomach growls viciously and checking the time, Kara’s shocked to discover it’s after lunch already. Time has slipped away and she hasn’t yet heard from Mon-El. Frankly, she had expected him to run her to ground before the morning was out. He’s teasing her, inflaming her anticipation. Her ankles crossed, she squeezes her knees together, licking her lips as she feels the delicious pressure between her heated thighs. She recalls her promise and has every intention of seeing it through, but she also trusts that Mon-El will not leave her wanting. If he doesn’t get here soon….she needs a distraction.

As though an answer to her prayer, the phone rings and she snatches it from the cradle, “CatCo Worldwide, Danvers speaking.”

“Uh…hi,” a male voice says, it’s raspy but slightly higher in tone. It reminds her of a cartoon squirrel. “Is this the reporter working on the Valor story?”

“That’s right,” she answers. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s what I can do for you,” he replies. “You see…I mighta seen something the other morning. Something you might want to know about.”

“I’m listening,” she tells him. “Can you tell me your name?”

Brief pause, shuffling sounds on the line. “Why you gotta know that?”

“Well, in case I quote you in the story. You don’t want me to have it wrong, do you?” She cajoles him, already sensing a skittish personality.

“Okay, but I don’t want to get no one in trouble...least ways myself.”

“I understand, Mr...?”

“Berger,” he replies, almost instinctively. He sighs, and she can hear the disappointment in it. “Rex Berger.”

“Well, it’s nice to talk to you Mr. Berger. What can you do for me today?” she chuckles a little. “Is this about what happened with Valor last night?”

“I don’t know about all that. But something happened a few nights ago and I think somebody should know about it. Somebody who’s not gonna think I’m crazy.”

“Well, hit me Mr. Berger. I have a high tolerance for crazy.”

“I’m a custodial engineer and I work nights on the top four floors of Merlyn Global, see? Every day from 9 PM to 5 AM.”

“I understand.”

“So the other morning….”

“Can you tell me which morning?” she interrupts. “For the purpose of the story, I have to get the details right.”

“Well, it was day before payday, so Thursday of last week.”

“Excellent,” she says writing it down. “Please continue.”

“Anyway…so I’m emptying the trash bin in the CFO’s office and I look out the window and see a man standing on the rooftop across the street. It’s the Emeritus Bank building, you know the one?”

“I know it.”

“That building is about three floors shorter than MG, so I had a pretty good angle on him.”

“Can you tell me what he looked like?”

“Jeans, black hoodie. That’s all.” Just like Valor, she notes.

“What was he doing, Mr. Berger?”

“The damnedest thing, Miss Danvers. If it wasn’t for all these aliens and meta-whatevers showing up I wouldn’t have believed my own eyes! I’ll be damned if he wasn’t draining the juice from the power transformer on the roof.”

“He was electrocuting himself?” she asks, confused. “On purpose?”

“That’s what it looked like to me. Took the panel off the transformer, stuck his hands in there and Bob’s-your-uncle. Thought for sure he was a dead man!”

“I’m assuming he wasn’t…dead then?”

“Nope,” he rushes to say. “Stood there a minute or two, stiff as a board, his hair all sticking straight out of his head. I did have a laugh about that afterwards. Afterwards, mind you! When I knew he wasn’t dead as a doornail.”

“What happened when he was done?”

“He put the panel back on the transformer like he’d never been there, walked over to the edge of the building where I couldn’t see and just…dropped right off the edge. I thought maybe he really was trying to kill himself.” Kara flinches at the phrase and the idea of it. “But I suppose if sucking down 10,000 volts isn’t going to do it, then throwing yourself off the roof of a 15 storey building isn’t gonna do it either. At least I didn’t hear nothing about it on the news the next day, so I guess there wasn’t no body.”

“No…” she replies, “There wasn’t. About what time of the morning did you see this, Mr. Barkley?”

“It was about an hour before quittin’ time, so about 4 AM.”

“And do you know if anyone else saw it? Were there any other janitors who might have witnessed the incident?”

“No, ma’am. I’m the only one on the floor, see…? The other janitors are all too low in the building to see the roof across the way.”

“I see. Have you talked about this with anyone?”

“You think I’m crazy? I want to keep my job, not get locked away in a nuthouse.”

“I understand. I’m going to look into this, Mr. Berger. See what I can find.”

“You are?”

“I am. If I write a story I’ll be sure to quote you. But if I don’t, then it’s probably best if you don’t mention what you saw to anyone else.”

“I heard that,” he says, emphatically. “Feels good just to get it off my chest.”

“And if you see or hear anything else strange, you can reach me at this number.”

“Will do,” he answer. “You have a nice day, Miss Danvers.”

“And you too,” she politely replies before setting the phone back on the cradle.

So many thoughts flood her mind at once that she sits at her desk, staring sightlessly ahead as she waits for them to settle, like floating dust particles drifting slowly to the ground. The first thought that settled to the forefront was: Mon-El siphoning electricity?

Could he really do that? Kara was vulnerable to electricity, which is what made Livewire such a difficult foe to face…and defeat. She’d needed Barry’s help and the help of some brave bystanders and first responders to bring down the electricity-shooting meta-human. But if that was one of his abilities why didn’t she know about it?

Kara recalls then, the days that Mon-El had been unconscious after his arrival, the way the building had experienced more than a few grey-outs. The lights and equipment had flickered off and then back on, and then at times, everything would dim for long minutes, like a visual whine from the building itself. His body drained the building of its energy to repair itself on the cellular level. But, to her knowledge, he had never used the ability while he was conscious, let alone learned to control it.

Why would he keep this from her, and what was wrong with him that his cells needed repairing?

And what was he doing out of the DEO at 4 AM on a Thursday morning?

Perhaps her assumptions are all wrong, Kara second-guesses. Maybe the name Valor is simply a coincidence after all, and it wasn’t Mon-El Mrs. Hardwick saw on the bridge this morning. Perhaps there’s some other person, another Meta like Livewire, who can drain electricity and use it to power themselves. Or perhaps massive amounts of electricity are simply the source of other abilities, like jumping from the roof and landing unharmed on the street below.

The more pieces to the puzzle she receives the more Eliza’s theory begins to make sense. If it is Mon-El than that’s two nights in less than a week where he was witnessed outside of the DEO during curfew hours. Which means if he’s getting any sleep at all, it isn’t much. Even a Kryptonian needs rest to recharge mentally because though the radiation from the yellow sun helps take care of injuries, it is not a cure-all. Perhaps it’s the same for a Daxamite.

She wants him to be well, however she can’t help but feel as though the closer they become the more he hides from her. A sinking feeling encompasses her heart, as though trying to drag it down into an abyss, but she fights it off, steadfastly refusing to give in to despair. She’s going to find out what’s going on with him, but she’s not going to do it as a reporter. She’s going to do it as the woman who cares for him. His mate.

She formulates a plan. She has enough information to draw certain conclusions, and so she might as well use it. When she sees him next, she will give him what he needs.

And then, when his defenses are lowered, she will get what she needs to protect him from himself.

****

Perhaps it was lack of foresight, or he could blame it on his still lacking knowledge in how this world works, but he could not have predicted the size and scope of the mayhem that ensued after his act of heroism at the bridge.

It isn’t until he emerges from his quarters at a half past 8, that he even realizes something is amiss. Somehow, when he had assisted the couple in the falling car, it had never occurred to him that anything he’d done would be newsworthy. Which is strange, considering his girlfriend is all about the news.

The CIC is abuzz with activity, every terminal manned by a hardworking genius.

“Glad to see you’re right where I left you,” he snarks at the frazzled and tired-looking Winn. “What’s going on?” Inspired by Winn’s exhausted appearance, Mon-El runs his fingers through his hair, trying to make it seem like it’s seen a brush recently.

“I really don’t have time to indulge you at the moment, Mon-El,” Winn replies. Aside from the odd use of words, there’s a bite in his tone. A bite that seems to be directed solely at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

“Did you pull a falling car off a bridge last night? Because if not, then…no,” Winn sighs, realizing that the tone of his earlier statement had revealed too much.

Mon-El focuses on the wall of screens displaying everything from local to international news. And they all seem to be telling the same story…about him – or about Valor, to be more precise.

He had made a decision last night when that woman had asked what to call him. Like Kara, he had seen a path laid out before him – one he couldn’t ignore, and so he chose to put one foot in front of the other and step on that path. But he hadn’t bargained on gaining the attention of the world. It’s a lot of pressure, perhaps too much, when ordinary people look up to you -- expect from you.

“Because it’s so easy to fail,” Ral provides, standing beside Mon-El his eyes tilted up to the screens.

“How can I not?” he speculates.

“You’re selling yourself short, brother. You did a great thing last night, and you’ll do even more great things in the future.” Ral points at the screens on the wall, some of them now showing things other than the hot topic of Valor. He points in particular at a news program rolling tape on a riot in a place called Kuala Lumpur, and on another screen, the aftermath of an earthquake in distant country named Azerbaijan. “Look, brother…this world is in need of balance and you can help provide it. Supergirl and her cousin may be powerful, but the world is wide and disturbed, with endless violence and destruction. The people of this planet haven’t figured out who they are yet, but they have so much potential. You can help show them who they can be.”

“Surely there are better people than me for this,” he whispers, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and fingers.

“Name one,” Ral challenges, cocking his blonde head to the side. “And they don’t count if they’re already wearing Kryptonian glyphs.

Mon-El opens his mouth to add a name.

“Or frequently use the phrase ‘Last Son of Mars’,” Ral cuts him off at the pass. “Also, he’s not hesitating to do his part. Like it or not, you’ve already made this choice. You can’t back out now just because there’s a little bit more of a spotlight than you wanted.”

The truth is, Valor may be newborn, but that doesn’t mean Mon-El has the slightest clue how to begin – how to the really begin. Last night, Winn had mentioned designs for a suit, which he is definitely going to need, especially since his brilliant disguise of wearing a black hoodie has now been broadcast all over the world.

Mon-El was born into a world of expectations, and from the moment he was old enough to fully understand the implications of that, he has done everything in his power to push back against them. On most occasions, trying to escape them altogether. Never in a million years could he ever meet his father’s expectations for him, and so somewhere along the line, he stopped trying, surrendering to the inevitable. That he was destined to be little more than a disappointment to the people who wanted—needed—him to be more.

It seems as if it’s happening all over again – only this time by his own invitation.

“I have to get out,” he gulps, the buzzing atmosphere around him choking the breath from him.

“What was that?” Winn asks, though he seems barely invested in the answer.

“I have to get to work,” he corrects. It’s not a lie, he rationalizes. Soon his work hours will begin in the evening, but there’s still much to be done at the bar to prepare for its reopening in two days. But Mon-El needs some air and to feel as though the walls aren’t closing in around him.

He considers taking the ‘Supergirl exit’ but rethinks that plan when it occurs to him that now might not be the best time to remind them that he possesses all the powers required to fit the Valor description. Not to mention the wardrobe. It’s best to play it cool for the time being. Just keep pretending he was asleep in his quarters all night last night.

He doesn’t know what made him do it, but before leaving his quarters for the CIC this morning, he had stuffed his rarely used and completely extraneous glasses into the pocket of his jacket. Out on the street, though no one by rights should recognize him, he feels exposed and vulnerable. Taking the glasses out of his pocket, he slides them onto his face, setting them on the bridge of his nose.

A strange sense of peace settles over him the moment they fall into place.

Mon-El never understood the nature of Kara’s glasses until this very moment. Of course, intellectually he knew they were lined with lead and helped her control her abilities as a child, making assimilation slightly easier. But he sees now that it must go deeper than that. Though he had no need for glasses to correct his eyesight, sliding them on had provided him with new vision.

More so than Mon-El, Kara’s eyesight is far and beyond the perfection as determined by humans. She can focus on events happening thousands of yards away and can examine items on a microscopic level, plus there’s also the convenience of being able to see through things. But somewhere in childhood, she must have developed a dependence upon them.

Though he finds it ridiculous the notion that a simple pair of glasses can hide her true identity from anyone with keen eyes, he can’t discount their ability to make her feel hidden. And as Mon-El discovers as soon as he dons his own superfluous glasses, feeling hidden is half the battle.

When he reaches the bar, M’gann immediately takes note of his new accessory. “Nice disguise,” she compliments, “rescue any people off of bridges lately?”

“How did you--?” he wonders, his eyes growing wide.

“I’m a shapeshifter,” she shrugs. “I understand what it’s like to disguise yourself to hide from something you’ve done. Take my advice: if you don’t want J’onn to know what you’re up to at night, don’t wear those in front of him.”

Mon-El removes the glasses and pockets them in his jacket. “Did you always know about Kara?” he asks.

“Oh, sure. Though, unlike you, she’s taken time to cultivate her hero persona – make it more difficult to recognize the Supergirl in Kara Danvers.”

“I don’t understand,” Mon-El shakes his head.

M’gann smiles wryly, and Mon-El realizes he’s about to be schooled by someone much older and wiser than himself. In the past he might scoffed at the notion, ignored proffered advice, and walked away from such counsel, but today he sidles up to the bar and listens with thirsty ears. “A part of you knows this already, or has begun to suspect. It’s why you’ve given her your heart.”

Mon-El’s back straightens, the aforementioned organ set to racing in his chest. “How did you--?”

“I see things people don’t want me to see, remember? Besides, you’re not incredibly subtle. It’s cute.”

Mon-El rolls his eyes as the wall he carefully constructed to shield his growing feelings for his mate from the outside world crumbles in the face of M’gann’s observations. Were it up to him, no wall would exist. Mon-El wants the world to know she’s his, but she isn’t ready for that, and he wants to respect her decision. Also her logic for not making their relationship public knowledge until CADMUS can be neutralized is sound.

“As much as you admire Supergirl and all the things that she can do, at the end of the day it’s Kara that you take to your bed at night. You understand that, right?” He opens his mouth once again to ask how she knows about the physical part of his relationship with Kara, but a single raised eyebrow from her quells the question. His mouth snaps shut. “Kara, the one who wears the glasses, who laughs when she’s nervous, or crinkles her eyebrow when she’s upset – that’s the real girl. Supergirl is the armor she wears when she’s out saving the world.”

Mon-El thinks back to the day at the children’s hospital. Supergirl had put out the fire and saved all of those lives. But it had been Kara Danvers who’d cried in his arms over the young lives snuffed out in an instant. It’s Kara that has a terrifying tendency to rush headlong into danger without fear of the consequences, but it’s Supergirl who gets her out of those situations alive.

Supergirl can take bullets to the chest, or collide head-on with rocket propelled grenades without a single flinch, but the mere suggestion that he wasn’t happy with her performance their first time together sends Kara into an emotional tailspin. Supergirl can punch through cinderblock walls, can burn holes through anything, and toss a shipping container across a train yard, but Kara needs to be held and caressed after lovemaking.

He loves to watch Supergirl in action, is always filled with awe, but it’s the moments when her armor is off and she’s just Kara, his and his alone, that send his soul soaring.

“What you have to do, Mon-El, is figure out which one of you is going to be the armor. The guy who pulls falling cars off of bridges? Or the guy in the glasses?”

Mon-El nods. It’s definitely something to think about, and certainly something he hadn’t considered when altering his entire life trajectory in the early hours of this morning.

“Now,” M’gann says, her tone announcing a change of topic. “Let’s get down to work. Why don’t you come around the bar so I can show you some things?” Mon-El hops of his bar stool and makes his way around the bar, while M’gann begins her instruction. “Each of the spigots under the bar contain a different base drink. Club soda, tonic water, cola, et cetera. Over here we have the draft beer and ales.”

Her instruction goes on for hours, until Mon-El’s brain is spinning with the new data it’s trying to assimilate. After about an hour he begs off for a break and fifteen minutes later returns with a pad for taking notes. She runs him through a list of the most popular mixed beverages, how to make them, and in what proportions the alcohol should be added so that house money isn’t wasted.

After a while, M’gann leaves him alone with the bar to familiarize himself with the bottles and what’s in each of them. The bottles, though decontaminated, will still have to be replaced with fresh ones anyway, so he’s free to practice with them. As long as the drinks go down the drain once he’s taste-tested them.

There’s so much to learn about this working business, Mon-El realizes. Decontaminating the bar following the release of the Medusa virus was hard work, but there was something simple about it at the same time. He came in every day, sprayed and scrubbed every possible surface until it no longer fluoresced under black light (which was actually kind of purple), and at the end of the day he got paid. He didn’t need skill really, or even much intelligence, but somehow it made him money and it led to something more – which he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to handle.

He just has to remember that he’s doing this for Kara, because he wants to be a better man for her. She doesn’t need someone to provide for her, she can do that all by herself, but at the very least she needs him to stand on his own two feet so that she doesn’t have to prop him up like some useless piece of decoration. Living life as little more than a decorative piece is a feeling with which he’s all too familiar, and he’s beginning to accept that it’s a position to which he no longer aspires. And perhaps, in some ways, he never did – he just never knew how to make a change – never knew that he could.

“You were always told you could do whatever you wanted,” Ral nods, sitting across the bar like a ghostly customer, leaning his chin on one palm. “You just misunderstood what that meant. Maybe now you’ll understand.”

“I’m not sure I’m smart enough for this,” Mon-El laments.

“Are you joking? Because I swear to the gods, I can’t tell anymore. Is this my brother who was made of swagger and confidence?”

“With lovers,” Mon-El clarifies. “I never had to be anything but who I was with them,” he points out. “You know it wasn’t really me they were after anyway.”

“You have the best of him, remember? And he was no idiot. You just have to accept that; about him, and about yourself.”

Mon-El nods, begrudgingly. Parental love wasn’t something that was terribly rampant on Daxam. Like on Krypton, all children were conceived and grown in a birthing matrix, and though their origins came from parental DNA, development in the matrix precluded all pre-birth bonding between mother and child. Children were merely a means to secure power and to propagate a bloodline.

It’s one of the things that fascinates him about Earth, the way Eliza is so attached and protective of Alex and Kara. At the hospital, after the tragic crash of the shuttle…no…helicopter, he saw many people weeping over the loss of lives. Some parents wept and hugged him because he had saved the life of their child. He recalls the expression of horror on the face of the woman whose daughter stood in the path of hurtling automobile thrown by Parasite, and her look of awe and gratitude when he stopped the car from crashing into the child. The outpouring of emotions from these parents would have been considered unprecedented on Daxam. A lost child might simply have been replaced.

And parental love was certainly never something he felt from his own father; instead he felt an enormous pressure to succeed, to conform, and always to be more like him.

“He wanted you to survive, brother, and if you want to make it on this planet, either as Mon-El, or Mike, or Valor, then you need to start using the aptitudes he bequeathed to you and stop denying them,” Ral urged. “Whether you agree with the things he did, or not. It’s time to put the child away, my friend, and be man we all knew you could be.”

M’gann walks back into the bar from the office in back and tosses him a book. “Drink recipes,” she announces. “The ones from Earth, at least. I’ll try to write down the other ones I know. Some we have to figure out as we go along,” she shrugs. “Study the book,” she suggests. “Learn its wisdom.”

“Right,” he replies, staring down at the small paperback book. It’s tattered and worn, dog-eared in places, and half of the back cover is ripped off. He also notices as he flips rapidly through the pages that there are useful notes inside. He tucks the book into the back pocket of his jeans, imagining that the book is going to be an important part of his life in the coming weeks and, hopefully, months.

“I’m also going to need you to run security from time to time,” M’gann says. “I have two other bartenders and neither one of them suited to taking out the trash.”

Mon-El can’t begin to imagine what dispensing with garbage has to do with security. “Taking out the trash?” he wonders.

“Which in this case is a euphemism for escorting unruly and troublemaking customers to the exit. Try not to break them. I don’t need a lawsuit.”

Mon-El grimaces. Keeping humans in one piece is an art he isn’t sure he’s quite mastered yet. “Ah. I’ll do my best.” Hopefully he will just be able to intimidate any rule breaking humans with a moderate show of super strength and that will be enough to keep them in line.

“Most of them will be drunk and docile. Just call those an Uber and see them to the car. It’s the belligerent ones you have watch out for. You never know when some Frellic is going to decide to eject their neck spikes. So be prepared. Stay calm and try not to get your panties in a bunch over it.”

“Panties,” he echoes, the word triggering a memory. His eyes open wide like trying to see in a pitch black room, before slamming shut with a groan. “Grife!”

“What is it?” M’gann asks.

“Nothing,” he covers. “Just something I forgot to do.” Mon-El had been so caught up in the drama of becoming Valor and everything that surrounded it, that he’d completely forgotten he’d asked Kara to go without panties for the day. Bad boyfriend! Very bad boyfriend!

“Well, we’re about done here for the time being anyway. Why don’t you go take care of it before it gets too late? Remember…tomorrow you start your new late schedule – 6 PM until lock-up. I’ve already signed the paperwork for J’onn, so you’re good to go.”

“Thanks so much, Boss,” Mon-El replies, trying out the new nickname. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I do,” he counters. “Once upon a time, I stood where you’re standing—not literally—and someone gave me a shot. In the future, someone’s going to want a chance at a new life, and you’re going to be the one in a position to offer it. You can pay it forward by doing for them what I’ve done for you.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Good. Now get out of here.”

He exits on a breeze, but comes to a screeching halt no sooner than when he steps into the alleyway. An avalanche of changes have happened just since the last time he kissed Kara good night, as though days have gone by instead of mere hours. The idea of keeping them secret from her, of looking in her beautiful hope-filled face and lying to her about all of it, makes him feel sick inside.

“Exactly what I think, brother,” Ral butts in. “These cards definitely need to go on the table.”

“She’ll be…disappointed. Again.”

“Maybe she’ll give you credit for confessing on your own,” Ral suggests. “Not an easy thing in a new relationship; believe me…I know. At any rate, certainly better than if she finds out on her own…or worse, from someone else. Winn’s no idiot, he’s going to put together the puzzle sooner rather than later, and what do you think will happen then?”

“He’ll always be loyal to Kara.”

“And then there’s Alex,” Ral added. “I would be surprised if she doesn’t know already. If you’re lucky…she might give you a small window of time to come clean, because she doesn’t want to hurt her sister. Brother – by the time you return to the DEO they may be ready to lock you up, you need to have Kara on your side. Because J’onn will know the second he lays eyes on you.”

“I can’t let that happen,” Mon-El agrees.

“You know what you have to do.”

TBC

#karamel #karamel fic #hanging on letting go series

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