Thirty minutes later...
Kara and Clark touched down together near the edge of the northern field. They had been talking for most of that half-hour. Whatever words had passed between them had left Kara looking hollowed out but steadier. Her shoulders weren't quite so rigid anymore; her breathing had found a rhythm again.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them.
"I think… I need to be alone for a little while," she said softly. "Not forever. Just… right now."
Clark gave her a small, understanding nod. "Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere."
Kara managed a ghost of a smile. It was fragile, but real. Then she lifted off without another word, streaking low and fast toward the mansion. A faint sonic ripple trailed behind her as she disappeared over the dunes.
Clark watched her go until she was out of sight. Only then did he turn and walk the last few steps to where John stood waiting, arms folded, expression unreadable.
"I never thought I would see another Kryptonian alive," Clark said honestly. "For years, I believed I was the last survivor of my entire species."
John nodded. "Yeah. That kind of loneliness sticks."
Clark's gaze drifted back toward the direction Kara had flown. "She told me about the simulation. About living twenty years inside a constructed Krypton. I cannot imagine waking up and realizing all of that was gone."
"She handled it better than most would," John replied. "Does not mean it did not break something inside."
Clark exhaled slowly. "When I first arrived on Earth, I had my parents. I had time to adjust. She woke up and... everything she knew was just gone."
John did not interrupt him.
"I want her to come with me," Clark said. "We could live together like a family. My parents and Lois would love to have her with us... After everything she went through, she needs her family and a stable life."
John's eyes narrowed just a fraction. "But."
Clark gave a small, rueful nod. "But the moment she leaves Kahndaq, the world will react. Waller will react. Governments will start talking about countermeasures. They will see another Kryptonian and start calculating what that means for power balances. Hearings, oversight, pressure campaigns, political narratives. She will not be treated like a grieving survivor. They will treat her like an asset. And I can't promise I'd be able to keep her out of the grinder."
John's jaw tightened at the mention of Waller. "That woman never misses an opening. If you make a move, she'll simply turn the media against you."
"Yes," Clark said. "And even if I could shield Kara from the worst of it, she'd still feel the weight. Every day. Every choice watched, measured, and politicized. That's why this might be the safest place for her right now/. She can breathe here. She can grieve. She can figure out who she actually is without someone trying to hand her a script."
John studied him for a beat. "She already decided?"
"She did." Clark's voice softened. "She did. She said she needs time. She wants to clear her mind before making any permanent decisions. She does not even know what her real life looks like yet. Everything she thought she was building vanished in a single conversation."
"That's more than fair," John said.
Clark looked visibly relieved, though the heaviness in his eyes hadn't entirely lifted. "I will still be there for her. She can come to me anytime. She just does not have to choose everything today."
John nodded once. "She won't get pushed here. Not by me. Not by anyone else."
Clark extended his hand. John took it without hesitation.
"Thank you," Clark said. "For pulling her out of that wreck. And for not sugarcoating the truth."
"I don't believe in owning people," John replied. "Especially not someone who just lost everything."
Clark gave a small smile. "I'm glad she landed here first."
John huffed a quiet laugh. "Pretty sure she wouldn't put it that way right now."
Clark actually chuckled at that. Then he glanced in the direction Kara flew.
"She's stronger than she realizes," he said. "Once she finds her footing, she'll see that she isn't alone anymore."
"I don't doubt it," John answered.
Clark straightened, squaring his shoulders. "You mind if I drop by every now and then to check in?"
"Not at all," John said.
"Well then, I should go. And once again, thank you, John, for saving her."
Clark gave one final nod, then rose smoothly into the air and flew away toward Metropolis, leaving only a faint blue-and-red streak.
...
[Two days later]
Kara had spent forty-eight hours in her room doing exactly nothing that required touching anything fragile. She stared at the walls, floated in circles, and cried until there were no tears left, then stared some more. Eventually, the silence started feeling heavier than the grief, so she decided to get out of the room.
She reached for the doorknob.
The metal crumpled in her palm like wet paper.
She stared at the mangled brass lump for a full three seconds, then set the knob down carefully on the floor because what else was she supposed to do with it?
"Okay," she muttered.
She placed two fingertips against the door itself and gave the tiniest push.
The entire door exploded outward in a shower of splinters and hinges. It cartwheeled down the hallway, slammed into the opposite wall, and embedded itself halfway through the plaster like a very angry bookmark.
Kara froze, both hands still raised in the universal "I didn't do it" position.
From the living room came the unmistakable sound of popcorn being paused mid-crunch.
She tiptoed (or tried to) toward the bathroom. Each step felt like she was trying to tap-dance on eggshells while wearing cement boots. The floorboards creaked in protest anyway.
In the bathroom, she turned the faucet. Or rather, she intended to turn the faucet.
Her fingertips barely brushed the handle before the metal bent sideways with a sad metallic groan. Hot water sprayed straight up like a geyser. She yelped, jerked her hand back, and accidentally swatted the shower knob clean off the wall. She caught it.
Water blasted straight up like a broken fire hydrant.
She stood there, soaked, holding a faucet corpse and a faucet pancake, looking like a drowned golden retriever who just discovered physics hates her.
By the time she made it to the kitchen, leaving a trail of wet footprints and one very confused doorframe, Harley, Maureen, and Hippolyta were already looking at her.
Harley was sitting cross-legged on the counter, a fresh bag of neon-green gummy worms open in her lap, grinning so wide it threatened to split her face.
Maureen leaned against the fridge with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised so high it was practically in her hairline.
Hippolyta stood near the table, the corner of her mouth twitched like she was fighting the world's most dignified smirk.
Kara held up both hands.
"I... broke everything," she announced.
Harley let out a delighted cackle that echoed off the kitchen tiles and immediately started clapping like Kara had just performed the best magic trick in history.
She hopped down from the counter, gummy worms tumbling out of the bag and scattering across the floor like neon confetti. One landed right on Kara's wet sneaker and stuck there. She ran over and checked the destruction that Kara had left behind her.
"Oh my gods, Goldilocks, you absolute legend! You turned this place into performance art! That's commitment!"
Then she came back and circled Kara like an overexcited shark, inspecting the dripping hair and the faucet handle still clutched in one hand like a trophy.
"Look at you! Soaked, traumatized, holding plumbing souvenirs. This is peak chaos and I am living for it."
Maureen pushed off the fridge. She walked over, took the mangled shower knob out of Kara's other hand, turned it over once like she was appraising a rare coin, then tossed it casually into the dustbin.
"First rule of super-strength puberty," she said, "everything is suddenly made of tinfoil. Second rule: stop touching things until we figure out how gentle is gentle for you. Third rule..." She glanced at the hallway where the door was still halfway through the wall like a very committed art installation. "Maybe don't touch doors either."
Kara's face went from pale shock to bright, miserable red. "I was being careful. I swear I was being careful. I barely pushed."
Maureen chuckled. "Yeah, I can see that." She remembered back when she and Harley got the power from John, they went through the same thing. So, she can understand what Kara was going through. "Well, don't worry. With a bit of training, you'll be fine."
Hippolyta added, eyes sparkling with mischief, "I once shattered an entire stone throne during my first week. Everyone was furious. They spent so much time and effort building that throne. I had to promise them a vineyard's worth of wine and three new sets of tools before they forgave me."
Kara blinked. "You... broke a throne?"
"Into kindling," Hippolyta confirmed cheerfully. "The splinters were exquisite."
Harley threw her head back and howled with laughter. "Queen Hippolyta, secret interior demolitions expert! I needed that on a t-shirt yesterday!"
Maureen grabbed a clean towel from the drawer and tossed it at Kara's head.
"Dry off before you flood the place."
Kara caught the towel mid-air (gently, miraculously, no new casualties) and pressed it to her face for a second like she could hide behind it. When she lowered it, her eyes were still shiny, but the corner of her mouth had started to lift.
"I really am sorry about the door. And the faucet. And... probably the hallway wall."
Harley slung an arm around Kara's wet shoulders, heedless of the damp patch it left on her jacket. "You're a new member of our family now. And in this family, we don't apologize or say thank you for every little thing. So, don't sweat it. Clean up, put on some clean clothes, and then... breakfast. After that, I'll give you a full tour of our city."
---[Spoilers. Click to read.][1]
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[1] Ch: 76 [Training Kara] Ch: 77 [Harley's new recruits] Ch: 78 [Peaceful life in Kahndaq] Ch: 79 [Waller & Enchantress] Ch: 80 [The Witch’s Verdict] Ch: 81 [The Garden and the Abyss]