It was dusk. Kara was sitting near an opened window in her apartment. Everything was golden as the sun hung lower and lower in the sky above National City, the city Kara had sworn to protect.
She shifted on her perch, resting her elbow on the window sill, head on her fist. She listened to the quiet sounds of the city. Usually at this time of day, things started to get louder. People prepared to go out for a night on the town, children screamed as they rushed home from a long day of school and lessons. The hum would grow, music would flare as the sky was painted deep blues, purples, and blacks.
Yet, tonight was different. The sunset mimicked sunrise; bright yellow, gold, and orange light danced over every building, every face, in every voice. The city was hushed as though bowed in some communal silent prayer.
Kara smiled to herself. It didn’t reach her eyes, the corners of her mouth barely turning upwards. The weight of the past few weeks were pressing down on her shoulders. So many things had changed, had drained her. She could hardly believe that she was the same person from then, she was so out of sorts. How could she let herself stray so far from her path? How could she lose sight of what was truly important?
She sighed and folded her arms on the sill, resting her head. She thought back on everything that had happened. Somehow she’d become a background player in her own life. She shook these thoughts from her head. She needed to focus on the future, but everything in this world was hard. She didn’t know how anyone could look at her the same way again. She could barely look at herself.
She knew the trouble started when she pushed James away. He had been her best friend, wishing to be her equal, but she knew that he wasn’t. It hurt her heart that he couldn’t be her match. Even now, she couldn’t put her finger on why. He just wasn’t the one.
Things got worse when she thought she’d found someone who could be on her level, understand her struggles as the fellow lone survivor of the sister planet to Krypton. She should’ve known better, but she was desperate for connection. On paper, they were similar enough: similar powers, similar customs, their planets’ people even believed in the same greater being. Rao, had she been wrong.
Kara had gotten herself in almost too deep before she could see things for what they were: superficial, forced, not meant to be. She was glad she was able to recognize she deserved better. She deserved her true equal, whoever that was.
She remembered how she would daydream for hours about who could possibly be her partner since she’d crash landed on Earth. She had hoped that someone else from her planet would find her. But, even at 14 years old, she knew that would never happen. So she would spend hours crafting imaginary people that could be her match: always deeply intelligent, always incredibly strong and brave. Gender didn’t really matter to her, nor did planet of origin, just the qualities, the essence of this imaginary match.
Kara thought about all the people she’d gotten to know since being Supergirl, secretly hoping someone would fit those imagined qualities she’d dreamt up so many years before.
She thought of Winn; her best friend of nearly four years, her fellow Catco peer. He held some of those things she believes would make someone perfect to her, but ultimately he didn’t excite her. She knew it was painful for him at first that they weren’t together, but now they could at least be happy.
The image of a certain dark-haired CEO that she had become fast friends with blossomed in her mind as well. Striking and intelligent, Kara often felt like she was an outsider compared to Lena, but Lena had accepted her and held her up as one of her closest friends.
She recalled the last time she’d seen Lena. They finally tried that hipster kombucha joint. Kara wrinkled her nose remembering Lena examining different jars that held “The Mother” of a number of brews.
“That’s what we’re trying today?” Kara said, her voice filled with apprehension.
Lena laughed lightly. “Yes and no.” Seeing Kara’s confused and somewhat disgusted look, Lena pressed on. “It’s just the juice we’re having. “The Mother” stays in the jars.”
Lena asked the person behind the counter to give her a taste of the hibiscus draft. A moment later, she held the small glass of ruby colored fizzing liquid up to Kara. “See? It’s safe.” She gulped down the drink.
Kara watched Lena’s neck as the liquid slide smoothly down her throat. Kara stared at the freckle on Lena’s neck and her eyes went hazy. She thought about what it might be like to kiss right there before Lena’s voice caught her attention again.
“Ready to try some?” she said with glint in her eyes.
With a heavy sigh, Kara straightened up and snapped herself back to the present where she was home alone. She’d learned that whatever her feelings had been for James, they no longer existed. She knew that she trundled head first into a relationship with a person she’d barely known because she was lonely. She also knew that as much as she might be at the very least confused by her feelings for Lena, she was worried best case scenario that connection would end up like the one she had with James, or worse, it’d end up like her connection with Winn.
“I might just be alone forever,” she pouted, pulling the hood of her sweatshirt up.
She stood and padded to the fridge with her hands plunged into the front pocket of her sweatshirt to search for something to distract her. She found nothing that she wanted. She closed the fridge with a small snap, hoping to find something in her cupboards. Again, nothing perked her interest. She stared down at the counter and her eyes fell on the tall bottle of Blue Label she’d mainly kept around for when Alex would come over. She snorted at the shimmering, half-full contents of the bottle.
“Well,” she mumbled to herself as she grabbed the neck of the bottle. “It’s not like Alex comes over as much as she used to, anyways.” She unscrewed the cap glaring at the liquid within. She was about to pull the entire bottle to her lips when the glint of something silver caught her eye.
She slid the bottle aside, capping it in the process, not taking her eyes off the almost twinkling piece of tech she’d long forgotten about. She cupped Cisco’s creation in her hands. Suddenly she was struck with an idea; a reckless idea, a potentially stupid idea, but an idea nonetheless.
She ran to her bedroom at super speed, changed into jeans, a blue, v-neck t-shirt, with a red and gold flannel tied around her waist, and a small backpack slung over her right shoulder, her Supergirl costume tucked neatly inside. She shoved her glasses in the side pocket, just in case. She skidded back into her kitchen clutching the Jumper in her right hand within seconds.
Barry was someone who usually put a smile on her face. He understood what it was like to be different, and alone in his difference. They worked well as a team, and quite honestly, she needed a break from being the person this Earth thought she was.
She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing, but thought she’d get the hang of it. She was a rather intelligent alien after all.
She clicked what looked like the only button on the tech, which sprung open a pulsing blueish, silver portal in front of her. She quickly whipped out her phone to send Alex a text that she’d be gone to help Barry with something for a while. She stowed the tech in her bag, her cell in her pocket, and geared up for a inter-verse travel rush.
The last thing she thought before she darted through the portal was how much she longed for peace, for someone to understand her, for a distraction from her lapse in sense of self. She wanted the clear view she once had of her path back.
The portal closed as the ends of her flannel flicked through the space mixing red brilliantly with blue and silver. She flew forward in what could only be described as a vibrant thunderstorm where the clouds were glimpses of other Earths and the lightning was the thin barriers between them.
She saw a flash of red, the exact shade she knew Barry’s suit to be, and plunged into that Earth after him. Once she broke into the atmosphere on Earth 1, she faltered slightly, losing altitude. She wobbled her way down to the ground, her powers working half-heartedly. Something was wrong.
She landed in a field. She could see a squat farm house about an acre away from her. This was the only thing that stuck out against the amber sky. She tried to use her super vision to see if anyone was there. She zoomed in, seeing an older family sitting down to dinner together before Kara’s vision zoomed out, back to average.
“What the heck,” she whispered to herself.
She tried to take flight again, but bobbed in the air like a bee. She resigned to landing with a dusty thud and making her way to the house on foot.
As she got closer she heard a man with a booming voice exclaim, “Clark!” He laughed. “One of these days we’re going to have to learn to cook a meal without your heat vision!” The group laughed loudly with the man.
Kara’s heart leapt. “Clark,” she exhaled and took off to the front door of the house.
She knocked frantically, not caring who she’d meet on the other side. She knew her cousin Kal-El was there and would help make everything right. Her heart pounded when she heard powerful footsteps make their way to her.
The door swung open revealing, not Clark, but a woman that was Kara’s height, her build, with her exact face staring back at her.
“Kara, who is it?” Clark called from within the house.
“I don’t know,” both Karas answered.