Jeremiah went still.
The fight drained out of him in visible stages—tension leaving his shoulders, his blade arm lowering, his expression shifting from battle focus to something devastated and raw.
"Alex." Her name came out broken. "You shouldn't be here."
"I'm exactly where I should be." She didn't lower the weapon. Tears streamed down her face, but her hands stayed steady. "Stopping you."
Mon-El stepped back, giving them space. Around them, the battle continued—gunfire and shouts, DEO agents pushing Cadmus forces toward surrender—but this moment existed in its own bubble of terrible intimacy.
"I'm doing this for you." Jeremiah's voice cracked. "Everything I've done, every choice I've made since they let me go—it's all been for you and Kara. To protect you from them."
"I don't need protection from my friends!" Alex's composure shattered. "My partner is a Martian. My sister is Kryptonian. The man standing behind me is Daxamite. These aren't threats, Dad—they're my family!"
"They'll turn on you. Eventually. It's what they do."
"No. It's what you did." The words hit harder than any punch. "You came home and you lied to us. You sat at Mom's table and pretended everything was fine while you were stealing data to commit mass murder. You looked at me—your daughter—and decided the family we've built isn't worth protecting."
"That's not—"
"I mourned you." Alex's voice dropped to a whisper. "For fourteen years, I mourned you. I became who I am because of losing you. And then you came back, and I thought... I thought maybe I could finally stop carrying that weight." She took a shaky breath. "But you're not the man I remembered. That man would have died before hurting innocent people."
"I did die." Jeremiah's eyes were wet. "Cadmus killed who I was and built something else. Something that could do what needed to be done."
"Then prove them wrong." Alex lowered her weapon—not surrender, but choice. "Right now. Prove that some part of my father is still in there. Surrender. Help us stop what you started. Choose us."
The moment stretched.
Mon-El could see the war playing out on Jeremiah's face—programming against humanity, mission against family. His cybernetic arm twitched, servos whining. For a heartbeat, Mon-El thought he was going to attack.
Then Jeremiah dropped to his knees.
"I'm sorry." The words came out raw, ugly with grief. "I'm so sorry, baby girl. I thought I was saving you. I thought..."
Alex holstered her weapon. Walked forward on legs that barely held her. When she reached her father, she pulled handcuffs from her belt.
"I'm arresting you." Her voice was thick. "For conspiracy to commit genocide. For terrorism. For..." She couldn't finish. Just cuffed his wrists with hands that trembled violently.
"I know." Jeremiah didn't resist. "I know."
Mon-El stayed back, watching as DEO agents approached to take custody. This wasn't his moment—this belonged to the Danvers family, to the impossible choice Alex had just made.
As the agents led Jeremiah away, the broken man looked back. His eyes found Mon-El's.
"Take care of them." No programming in that voice. Just a father's final request.
"I will."
Jeremiah nodded once. Then he was gone, swallowed by the chaos of the secured port.
Alex stood alone, staring at the space where her father had been. Mon-El approached slowly, unsure of his welcome.
"Alex—"
"Don't." She held up a hand. "Don't apologize. Don't explain. Don't... anything." A breath that shuddered through her whole body. "You were right about him. I hate that you were right. But you were."
"Being right doesn't feel like winning."
"No." She finally looked at him. "It doesn't."
His earpiece crackled. Kara's voice, strained: "I stopped the ship. But Mon-El—the containers are rigged. Some kind of dead man's switch. Get here. Now."
Mon-El's blood ran cold. "On my way."
He looked at Alex—so much unfinished between them, so many words unsaid. But there wasn't time.
"Go." She wiped her face roughly. "Save the world. I'll... I'll be here."
Mon-El launched toward the water.
---
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