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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: In Bad Waters - part seven Word count: ±5570 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part seven summary: Zoë goes undercover to find out more about the murder she saw in her dream. Little does she know, that Sam and Dean do the same. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

Confident, Zoë bends down in order to fit under the yellow ‘crime scene - do not cross’ ribbon. She takes out her federal agent ID and flips it open before the officer guarding the perimeter can ask her about it. He steps away respectfully and lets her through.

It’s about 10 AM and the sun is already out on this relatively warm November day. Marching up the driveway with her heels clicking rhythmically on the concrete, Zoë unbuttons her black suit jacket to let in some air. The Stars and Stripes hasn’t been taken down yet and still flutters from the top of the mast, located in the center of a perfectly landscaped garden. The fallen leaves drape parts of the neatly mowed lawn in different tones of orange and brown. Not only does this particular estate look amazing, the entire street is brochure perfect. It is obvious that the families living in these homes on Reynolds Park Road, are wealthy ones. However, the ambulances and police cars blocking the street and the officers scanning the area, indicate that something is terribly wrong. What would seem like the last place on earth for a murder, is indeed a gruesome crime scene.

Two officers are having a conversation by the front entry. They pause the discussion once they notice the unfamiliar face approaching them. She captivates them instantly. Determined strides, head held high, clearly a woman who stands her ground in the men’s words that is law enforcement. There’s not a single trace of doubt noticeable when she flashes her ID once more. “Agent Evans, FBI,” she states.

“Detective Lee. This is officer Sanchez,” a tall man, with a serious case of a receding hairline, introduces his colleague a little reluctantly, clearly not happy about the presence of a fed. He holds out his hand anyway and Zoë makes eye contact, giving him a powerful handshake. “I didn’t know the Bureau was involved,” he comments with an Upper South accent, common for the region.

“Well, if you had paid attention while investigating the crimes in your own county, detective,” the specialist returns without missing a beat, facing the two man with enough arrogance to shut them down immediately, “- you might had noticed that there has been a murder similar to this one, making this a serial killing.” “Still don’t make this a federal case,” Lee returns, standing his ground. “What does, is the fact that there’s a whole string of deaths leading from Alabama up to your lovely little town.”

Of course she just made that up on the spot, just to back up her reason to be here, but no one would be able to tell without doing some solid digging first. She is so convincing that the two men fail to counter her. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. If you could be so kind to show me the way, that would be neat,” she requires, throwing them a fake smile while narrowing her eyes.

The two officers glance at each other, it being clear as day that the detective is not amused by the way he’s spoken to. Nonetheless, he gestures to the FBI agent to get into the house. She seems like a person not to be messed with.

They enter the villa with Zoë in tow, who nods approving while taking a look around. She glances up to the high ceilings, which are decorated with beautiful alto-reveilo, carved into the white plaster. Roman pillars support the level above, and in the back two staircases circle up to the second floor. Every square inch of the floor underneath their feet is made from marble. Renaissance paintings, portraying country sides in the 19th century and battles from the Civil War hang from the walls, a gold plated chandelier floats overhead. Flower pieces, amongst them an expensive bouquet placed on the mahogany round table in the center of the main room, gives the house a finishing touch. Zoë knows the lifestyle of the rich and famous, but this place looks more like a palace than a principal’s home in a town called Paragould.

“As you can see, Mr. Van Dyke lived the good life. His father owned a Dutch shipping company and made millions,” Officer Sanchez explains, having noticed the federal agent’s impressed expression. “We believe the fortune he passed on to his son might have something to do with Van Dyke’s death.”

As they climb the stairs, Zoë chuckles, but doesn’t say a word. These oblivious bastards... they have absolutely no clue, do they? “You think something else is going on?” Lee questions, noticing the sarcasm in her little laugh. “Money is not the motive,” she returns, curt.

An awkward silence follows and Zoë can feel the hostility between her and the two police officers. She has experienced it before, especially in smaller communities. Most cops despise the feds, simply because the cases they work quite literally hit close to home. The FBI is no stranger to barging in and taking over entire investigations, without sending a ‘thank you’ card. A lot of hard work for the local coppers, without any credit. Zoë can’t say she blames the police for being reluctant.

“This way.” Sanchez beckons them after climbing the stairs to the second floor, where he turns left on the vestibule. The closer they get to the crime scene, the more crowded it gets. The Crime Scene Unit has already arrived and forensics dust for prints, take pictures and search for evidence. When Zoë enters the room and finds Mr. Van Dyke, she frowns.

In the corner lies a man, probably in his mid fifties, half into a shattered exhibition case, his eyes open, death evident. It’s not the first time Zoë has seen a dead guy, but she wasn’t expecting such a violent killing committed by a ten year old. Apparently his head got smashed into the showcase; glass is scattered all over his body. He has bruises and cuts on his arms and face, but most peculiar is his probable cause of death. His neck is broken; the head at a 90° angle.

Zoë scans the room, which shows several signs of a struggle. One thing is certain; Van Dyke really got his ass kicked before he died. As she takes a look around, a woman wearing white latex gloves updates Lee and his partner. Zoë glances over, notices the CSU logo on her jacket, and walks over to tune in. “- time of death was between 6:30 and 7 AM. No prints found so far,” the forensic states. “Look at this place. There must be something,” Detective Lee ponders, his gaze panning over the crime scene. “Not even a fiber,” she sighs. “I have to admit; I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Seems like the suspect has left no trace,” Zoë intervenes, mixing into the conversation. “Someone just did a good job covering up,” Sanchez scoffs, not finding her remark relevant. “We’ll find something.” Dude, you have no idea, Zoë thinks to herself, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement. She doesn’t cut in on him, although she has about a dozen smart curve balls ready. Never get too smart around cops, who knows what she might need them for later on.

“There’s one thing, though, but it adds more confusion than it clears up.” The forensic walks over to the body of Mr. Van Dyke and points out the way his sweater is pulled down. It uncovers his left shoulder, the sleeve seems too long at the end by the force that was used. “Looks like someone pulled him down. As if the killer wanted to level his victim with him or her,” she clarifies. “The murderer was shorter than the victim,” Lee concludes. “Not just a little shorter, I’m talking about round 4 ft. 5 here, looking at the angle and location of the bruising,” the forensic adds up. “About the height of a ten year old, right?” Zoë fills in, as the clues sum up. “Yeah, that would be correct, but that’s impossible. Even if a ten year old could be capable of doing such a thing, they wouldn’t have the strength,” she rules out.

Impossible isn’t in Zoë’s dictionary, but she has seen enough. The forensics might be on a dead end, Zoë is a hundred percent sure of who Van Dyke’s killer is. She is dealing with one furious ghost child here, but two questions remain unanswered: why isn't Laura at rest and how is she able to relocate? A cursed object is the first thing that comes to mind. Being on the clock, Zoë decides to leave and have a talk with the family. “Thanks very much, I’ve got everything I need.” She gives both the forensic and the members of the PPD a nod, before she exits the room.

While Zoë walks down the corridor towards the staircase, the undercover huntress goes through the things she just learned. It almost seems like Laura is trying to put her victims through the same horror she experienced before she died. She simply shows them who’s boss, just like her father used to teach her. It’s violent, not suited for viewers under the age of eighteen, and yet a girl of only ten years of age, is behind these murders.

Back on the first floor, Zoë can hear soft wailing coming from the dining room. For the third time this morning she shows her ID, this time to the officer guarding the shielded off private space. The door is slightly ajar, when she pushes it open further in order to enter, the investigator finds the Van Dyke family, gathered together. A woman in her early fifties with blonde pixie hair has her arms around a teenage girl, who Zoë presumes to be the principal’s daughter. The son, a few years younger than his sister, stares outside, his empty eyes gazing out over the lake, quietly grieving in his own way. Instantly, Zoë feels sorry for the family. She wouldn’t wish this upon anyone. “Mrs. Van Dyke?”

The woman looks up with tears in her eyes and lets go of her daughter, but not before sweetly stroking her hair. Zoë shows Mr. Van Dyke’s wife her identification. “I’m Special Agent Evans, you can call me Sharon. I would like to ask you a few questions if that’s alright.” The mother of two nods her head as she wipes away her tears. “Of course.” “Your husband’s passing took place between 6:30 and 7 O'clock this morning. Where were you at this time?” Zoë questions calmly. “I was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast,” Mrs. Van Dyke replies, having crossed one arm over her chest, her hand covering her mouth as she breathes out with a shudder. “And you heard nothing?” the huntress wonders, her voice gentle, not wanting to upset the poor woman even more. “Not a sound,” she shakes her head. “Heather was in her room next to Bill’s office, she didn’t hear a thing until the dog started barking, that’s when she found him.”

Zoë nods at that, aware that dogs have a better sense of the supernatural than humans have. She glances past the woman before her, noticing the kind Australian shepherd, who has laid his head in Heather’s lap, watching up at her with worried eyes while trying to comfort his owner. The dog seems calm now, a good indication that Laura isn’t anywhere near. What the huntress does find strange, though, is that their daughter didn’t hear a thing. The article in the newspaper yesterday about Robert Shire’s murder comes to mind. His family was home during the incident as well.

“That will be it for now, thank you for your time,” Zoë notifies, smiling sympathetically. “I’m very sorry for your loss.” Mrs. Van Dyke turns back to her family with half a nod, still in complete shock after this morning’s events which turned her world upside down. Zoë would like to take more time to talk to the children, but she simply doesn’t have a minute to spare. Hastened, the huntress exits the house, stepping out into the warm sun as she takes out her shades and puts them on.

It all makes sense now. Laura isn’t just getting even with the people who are directly or indirectly connected to her death. She’s recreating how she died. What Zoë remembers from her flashback, the poor girl was a punching bag for her father’s fist on a daily basis, but it’s not just that. No one around heard a thing, not even a single sound, like the victims were isolated from the outside world. The vision of Laura’s mother stoically continuing her dinner while her older brother watched TV. As if they couldn’t bear the abuse and therefore shut out the sounds that came along with it.

Pondering, Zoë strides down Reynolds Park Road, back to her bike, which she parked near the water. Unlike the police, the huntress is everything but stuck, she knows exactly where she needs to go. Next stop; The Shire residence.

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

Dean has been complaining ever since they pulled away from the In-N-Out, when Sam came up with his newest masterplan. Their usual jeans and several layers of plaid have been replaced with black suits, the sharp dressed men now approaching Arkansas Methodist Medical Center, leaving the Impala in the parking lot.

“We are doing this, so get used to it,” Sam returns, getting tired of his brother’s whining. “You have the ID’s?” Dean takes out two leather wallets and flips them open, showing him the fake identification. Sam stares at the ID’s, his jaw falling open. “FBI? Are you nuts, Dean?” “Dad and I do it all the time. No sweat,” Dean shrugs, not that worried about getting caught.

“What if they look up our badge numbers? This is suicide!” Sam hisses, keeping his voice down when they pass people at the entrance of the hospital. “You wanna know what’s suicide? Meddling with Zoë’s case,” Dean counters. Sam huffs. “Oh, come on. How bad can it be?” “You should have seen her in Rochester when she found out we rang Cliffer and blew her cover. That wasn’t even intentional, and now you actually choose to get involved?” Dean argues.

He gives his brother his new identification, which Sam studies carefully as he mumbles his fake name. Dean watches his brother closely, curious if he will detect the little gimmick in their aliases, them being Angus and Young. But Sam doesn’t know enough about rock music to notice that the two names combined is the full name of AC/DC’s lead guitarist. Nonetheless, Dean is proud of the inside joke.

“She might get a little annoyed, but she won’t get mad. We’re helping her,” Sam assures, hoping his brother will stop being dramatic. “Exactly! I’m dressed like a fucking penguin while I know she won’t ever thank us, even if we have a major breakthrough.” Dean loosens his tie a bit, smothered by the tightness of his collar. “Look man, we can sit on our ass and waste this day or--” “- I prefer that actually,” the oldest intervenes. “Or--” Sam continues, sternly, “- we can do something useful.”

With that being said, he walks through the revolving doors of the governmental facility, followed by Dean, who mutters something unintelligible; stubborn fucker. Dean might be the older sibling here, but when Sammy has got his mind set on something, he can’t be reasoned with. Heading straight for the main desk, the Winchester brothers get into character. Sam especially looks somewhat young to be a federal agent, thankfully his height makes up for that. They both need to sell this in order to gather new information on the case. Confidently, Dean flashes his FBI identification to the woman behind the counter. “Agent Young, this is my partner Agent Angus. We’re here to see a dead body.” “You came to the right place,” she comments, apparently not impressed by their badges. She calls for an older physician in a long white coat who just passed by. “Dr. Hughes? Could you escort these two agents to the morgue?” she asks him. “Of course, I’m heading over there anyway,” he agrees, beckoning Dean and Sam to walk with him.

The hunters follow the doctor through the long hospital hallways. White ceilings, mint green vinyl floors and random photos and Picasso rip offs on the walls every now and then; the typical hospital decor the Winchester brothers are more familiar with than they would want to be. They’ve been inside medical centers plenty. To investigate a case, but also as a visitor whenever someone in their close circle got hurt on the job, but also as a patient. Hunting isn’t just a profession prone to injury, it’s worse than that. It’s a profession prone to death.

Dr. Hughes eventually breaks the silence when they reach an elevator. “Who are you here for?” “Ronald Shire,” Sam informs. Unpleasantly surprised, Hughes looks up at the tall agent. He halts by the elevator, calling it down to the first floor. It takes a second to arrive, the doctor uncomfortably shifts from one foot to the other. Dean and Sam have noticed it, however, exchanging a look.

“I’m sorry,” the physician apologizes when he realizes how his behavior might come across. “Ronald was a colleague of mine, but he was also a close friend.” “Our condolences,” Dean says, knowing all about Shire’s death after Sam filled him in earlier. Hughes pushes the button to call the elevator down, accepting the sympathy offered by the agent. “Unbelievable, isn’t it? We see death every day and yet when it hits close to home, you never see it coming.”

Wise words, applicable to everyone. He has been there on many occasions when the final hour struck; of hunters, of people they were trying to save. One would expect all this experience to give him thick skin, since he’s used to the violence and killings. But when Jess was murdered, it hit him harder than a wrecking ball.

The younger Winchesters train of thought is interrupted by the sound of the bell, announcing that the elevator has reached their level. He clears his throat and directs his attention to the doctor again. “Do you have an idea what happened to Mr. Shire?” “I did the autopsy myself; it left me stunned,” Dr. Hughes tells them as they enter the elevator.

Again the doctor presses a key and the doors close. As they slowly move down to the basement, Dean tries to find out if Hughes knows more about the case then he’s willing to let go at this point. “We think his death might have something to do with the murder that took place in the Van Dyke residence,” he fills in. “I heard about that on the news. CSU is still on that, though”, the physician says. “We have one of our agents at the scene,” Sam returns, with the short statement explaining their suspicion.

The doors open and the three enter the morgue of the hospital. It’s cool in this section and an unpleasant scent fills the area, chemicals almost masking the lingering smell of the dead. The doctor walks over to the furthest wall of metal drawers. He pulls out one of the many trays and puts on a pair of latex gloves before he zips open the body bag. “What’s so stunning about this case?” Sam wonders. “See for yourself.” Hughes unfolds the bag and both boys raise their eyebrows. “Ouch,” Dean comments.

The body of Laura’s father is badly bruised and battered, as if he got beaten up by a street gang in a bad neighborhood. His jaw is demolished, his neck broken; this is some serious abuse. The ‘Y’ shaped incisions on his torso indicated that a full autopsy has been performed on Ronald Shire, but the large stitches barely stand out between the black and broken skin.

“That’s not all,” the doctor adds as he takes out the file. “I searched every inch of his body on the in and outside, but there is not a print, not one single fiber on him that could point you fellas towards a suspect.” Dean gives Sam a look without the physician seeing it. Dr. Hughes might have never seen this before, the hunters certainly have. Ghosts never leave any trace on their victims, unless they want to.

“This caught my attention, though.” The doctor points out the bruises. “See how they run out upwards? That indicates that these injuries were caused from a lower angle. Or the killer was on its knees - which would be most unlikely - or the injuries were inflicted by someone shorter than 4 ft. 7. Someone with a growth defect, dwarf syndrome. That’s the only way I can clarify this.” “Have you considered a child?” Sam questions, carefully. “I have for a brief moment, but it’s theoretically impossible for a child to throw punches like this, even when it would use an object to create some kind of leverage, which I found no indication of,” the doctor explains. “Honestly, I’ve never seen damage done like this, not even by trained fighters. The evidence doesn’t add up in the slightest. This shouldn’t be possible.”

The boys exchange another glance; the evidence adds up just fine for them. Sam tilts his head and nods to the door, giving Dean the signal that they are leaving. “Thank you for your time, doctor.” he rounds up their visit. “If there is anything else, let us know.” “You’re welcome, I hope you’ll get this one,” Hughes mentions while he cleans up. “We’ll do our best,” Sam ensures.

The two hunters leave the morgue and step back into the elevator. As soon as the doors close, the oldest of the two turns to the other. “Laura, definitely,” the youngest brother states, determined. “Unless this town is haunted by two frustrated mini spirits, yeah, it’s Laura.” Dean agrees, watching Sam take his phone out of his pocket as they arrive at the first floor again. “Who’re you gonna call?” “The other Ghostbuster,” Sam replies, as he looks up Zoë’s number and presses the green button as soon as they step outside the hospital. “Shouldn’t we get to the bomb shelter first?” the oldest suggests, snarky. “This information could be useful”, Sam replies, but before Dean can respond to that, Zoë answers her phone.

“Sullivan.” “Hey Zoë, it’s Sam. Listen, I’ve got some info on Ronald Shire for you,” Sam cuts to the chase. “Why would you have info on Laura’s dad?” Sam cringes slightly, detecting the suspecting tone in her voice. Oh well, here goes nothing. “We went to the Medical Center to see Shire’s body.”

Complete silence, but Sam can almost hear Zoë’s blood boil on the other side of the line. Dean pulls his sleeve and gestures at him, frustrated. “What are you including me for?” he hisses, making sure Zoë can’t hear him. Sam waves him away, without making a sound he hushes his brother to be quiet, turning away from him in order not to get distracted. He takes a breath, gathering his courage.

“Zoë?” “I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood you. Did you just tell me that you deliberately messed with my case, even though I told you VERY clearly not to get involved?” The huntress’s voice trembles with anger, Sam can hear she tries to keep calm. “We figured we could spare you some time by going ourselves--” “- You FIGURED?!”

Sam cowers, her voice so sharp and loud that he doesn’t have to put her on speaker for Dean to pick up on the conversation. He did move closer to his brother, invading his personal space in order to tune in. “Better take cover,” Dean advises his brother. Annoyed, Sam pushes his brother away and focuses on Zoë again.

“We didn’t mess anything up if that’s what you’re worried about”, he states defensively. “I wouldn't give a flying fuck if you solved the fucking case! You didn’t listen!” “You’re not my boss!” Sam makes clear, not having her raging attitude, no matter how intimidated he feels by the fiery woman. “I am the boss when it comes to MY cases, damn it! This is not a fucking candy store I’m running, Sam! You can’t go do my job without telling me, you almost got me killed last time!” “It was an innocent morgue visit!” Sam exclaims while making a wild gesture, even though Zoë isn’t there to see it. “And honestly, would you have said ‘yes’ if I asked you first?”

“No of course not, you fucking asshat! That’s the fucking point!” she returns, clearly furious. “I swear to God, Sam, if you and your brother cross my path again…” “What? You’ll kill us?” Sam huffs. “Listen, Zoë. Ronald Shire was attacked by Laura, without doubt. He was a mess, his jaw was wrecked and his neck was broken, all injuries inflicted from a lower angle. That’s all the info I’ve got for you, you do with it whatever the hell you want.”

Before Zoë can return an answer, Sam ends the call. It’s only now that he notices Dean opposite of him, his arms crossed in front of him. He nods, appreciating. “No more Mr. Nice Guy. I like it,” he comments, then continues his way to the Impala. Without responding to his notification, Sam follows and catches up with him, still angry with the ungrateful attitude of the huntress. He cannot believe he saved her at least an hour and a half and this is what he gets in return; so much for gratitude.

Together they walk over to the classic Chevrolet without speaking about it further. Yet Dean can’t help but smile as he opens his door. Sam notices the grin and rolls his eyes. “Just say it,” he mutters. “Say what?” “You know what.” Dean looks at him over the top of the black Chevrolet and ponders, still deciding if he should say the words which he longs to say. He can’t help himself, he has to enjoy the moment and rub it in. His smirk grows even wider. “Hate to say I told you so.” “No, you don’t,” Sam sighs, sits down and closes the door.

Dean does the same and turns the key, starting up the Impala’s V8 engine, which lets out an enthusiastic roar. People Are Strange by The Doors is playing on the radio while Sam stares through the windshield, still bummed about the call. “Why doesn’t she just drop the act?” Sam wonders. “I’m not sure if it’s an act, Sammy.” Dean checks in both directions before steering his precious car onto the road. “I sincerely think her soul is pitch black.”

But Sam shakes his head, not buying it. “This can’t be her persona. You said it yourself; she was different when you first met her.” “So? People change,” Dean simply declares, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe, but this is just stupid. We’re in town, bored out of our skull while she is working her ass off to finish up on time. It can’t be that hard to accept our help.” “Apparently she’s socially disturbed, Sam. Let it go already. If she can’t appreciate a helping hand, she’s not worth the effort,” the older brother suggests, not wanting Sam to be bothered by the matter. “Let’s go to Texas and hunt some wolf, huh?”

He considers the advice for a moment as they drive by Linwood Cemetery. As soon as he spots the place, he glances across the road at the Hampton Inn, but there is no sign of Zoë; she must be at the crime scene. As they pass through, he decides he wants to stay. “No. We agreed to stay in town till tonight. Zoë will leave, case closed or not. It’s almost midday, so what difference will it make if we leave now or tonight?” “Half a day,” Dean answers smartly. “Denise? Or did you completely forget about the fact that you are meeting up with her later?”

The driver of the black car raises his eyebrow at that, contemplating, because Sam is right; he did forget about his ‘date’ later today for just a second. Dean doesn’t like to admit it, but Denise is a very big plus to stay in town just a little while longer. A silence follows after Sam’s mention while his brother thinks through his options.

“Point taken,” he gives in. “But I’ll tell you one thing. Zoë is not gonna come around.” “She will, believe me. She’s not as bad to the bone as she pretends to be,” Sam states, sure of his words. After all, last night she was friendly for letting him crash in her room and transferring all that lore to his computer. “I know her better than you do,” Dean weighs up. “I don’t believe that's true,” Sam counters, shaking his head. “Wanna bet?” Dean looks aside as the argument is starting to turn into a ‘do not, do too’ fight. “Burgers for a week.” “I rarely eat burgers. How’s that gonna benefit me?” the younger sibling brings to mind.

“Okay, well… If I win, you buy me burgers for a week. If you win, I won’t give you shit for ordering a salad in every fast food joint we eat at.” The green eyed hunter wiggles his eyebrows, his arrogant grin confident, spread wide on his lips. “I’m not settling for that.” Sam huffs and shakes his head. “You can buy me whatever I order for the next seven days if I’m right.” “Deal.”

Before Dean can assure him that this is a bet he will win, his brother’s Blackberry rings. Surprised, he checks the screen for the number, his long chestnut hair falling in front of his eyes when he looks down, then he raises his eyebrows and smiles. Victoriously he shows the screen to Dean; it’s Zoë. Sam picks up his phone and puts her on speaker. “What?” he snaps, still mad at her. “What are you up to?” The youngest of the Winchesters isn’t sure if she’s asking him if he’s still intending to mess with her case or that she’s asking if he has some spare time. “Depends,” he answers, curt. “You said Shire broke his neck, so did Van Dyke.” “So?” “Might be something.”

Sam keeps his mouth shut, warning Dean to do the same with only a look and a slight shake of the head. An unpleasant silence follows. Obviously, it irritates Zoë. “C'mon, Sam. Knock it off!” “No, Zoë! We’re helping you out and this is what we get?” Sam returns. “You two nosey dickwads went behind my back! How can you expect me to be--”

They can hear her sigh and swallow down the rest of the sentence as she collects herself, trying to keep her temper in check. “I don’t like working with others and I certainly don’t want to abandon this case. I’ve never passed up a job, it’s not my style. But if I don't finish up by tonight, I don't have another option.”

“I get that, but wouldn’t it be better if we just work together now and make sure that you’ll make your deadline?” Sam suggests, calmer than a moment ago, now that the woman on the other end of the line has done the same. “Look, Zo,” Dean interrupts, adding his two cents. “I know you’re not particularly happy about teaming up - and hey, neither am I - but you’ll be able to cover more ground that way. You can’t expect us to leave town knowing you might have to face a dilemma. The sooner you close this case, the sooner we can go our separate ways.” “I don’t know...” Again a sigh while Zoë considers her next move. Sam allows the silence, granting her the time to think it through. The way he sees it, she doesn't have much of a choice. The Winchesters are the best option she’s got. “Okay, fine,” she eventually gives in. “But this is still my case. I call the shots and might we stumble on trouble, we stick to the plan. I can’t settle for anything less.” Dean has already opened his mouth to object, but Sam elbows him hard, shooting him a warning glare. “Agreed,” the youngest quickly answers, ignoring the quiet muttering from his left. “Dean?”

The older Winchester brother grinds his teeth. Shit, he does not want to bow down to her, because he knows the second he does, she will without a doubt step up to become Evil Queen Bitch. He’s never going to live it down. One case, he tells himself. One fucking case and he will never have to deal with her again. “Fine,” he utters, barely audible. “One other thing. I need to leave town tonight, case finished or not. We have to try or take care of this today, okay?” “We will,” Sam assures. “And if we run into trouble and can’t manage to wrap up, you don’t have to worry about this case. We’ll make sure to have it covered and that Laura will be put to rest.” “So, do we meet up or what?” “Yeah, sure.” “Where are you at?”

Before Sam answers he checks the name of the road they are on. “W. Kings Highway, going west. We’re staying at the Ramada Inn,” Sam tells her. “Shit motel.” He scoffs a chuckle, glad the tension has lifted. “Tell me ‘bout it.” “I'll see you at In-N-Out,” the huntress decides. “I want an Animal Burger.” “Have you had that 4x4 burger?” Dean says, his mouth watering. “The amount of meat, hmm.” “Are you kidding me? I grew up in California; In-N-Out is my jam!” “Their food is fuckin’ amazing, ain’t it?” Dean agrees. “Oh my God, yes! How they grill their cheese—”

Stunned, Sam stares from the phone to Dean and back. Did the unthinkable just happen? Did Zoë and Dean actually agree on something? Remarkable, but truly, here is the one subject they can’t fight about; food. “Zo?” he interrupts. “Yeah?” “See you at In-N-Out.” He chuckles and hangs up.

The Ramada Inn shows up in front of them and Dean pulls up into the parking lot, turning off the ignition once he has found a spot close to the entrance. Before he gets out of the car, he registers Sam, who’s wearing a boyish grin on his face. His eyes sparkle through the curtain of his bangs, his pearl white teeth on display; it’s clear he’s very much amused. “Hate to say I told you so,” Sam nags victoriously, and pushes the passenger door open.

With a confused expression upon his face, Dean gets out of his car himself. He then glares at younger Winchester over the top of the Impala, the words sinking in. Fuck, he lost a bet; Zoë came around. “No, you don’t,” he mutters, following his sibling inside. Looks like he’s going to have to live through the embarrassment of ordering and paying for salads the coming week. Oh well, at least he doesn’t have to eat them.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part eight here

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Supernatural series #Dean Winchester series #Sam Winchester series #Supernatural OFC series #SPN #Supernatural #dean angst #sam angst #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Zoë Sullivan #STSS #STSS 1x01 #In Bad Waters #Kate Huntington

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incarnateirony · 4 years

Note

The way I see it is this: the threshold for het couple canon and queer couple canon should be the same. Wanting more than a handhold or whatever is *fine*, but whatever standard het romance is held to (the bare minimum to "count") should be the same for queer couples. We say all the time, "if one of them was a girl it would already be canon." Not bc of *potential* kissing, but bc it would be seen that way bc of what's already there. But you've said most of this already, so basically I agree lol!

Yup! That’s just it. If Detty or any other non-kissing couples can be taken as canon, so can queer ones, if the text is thoroughly framing it in every method equally. That’s how it works, actually! Applying a different standard *is* homophobic. And a few years ago, Destiel fandom actually knew this and pointed it out but somehow in this weird version of political extremization that we have around here, the pendulum has flipped around and knocked the octavarium on the ass from the other side.

Because people think that means you’re telling them to settle– of course it isn’t! Or making them “feel bad” for wanting more– nope! Now, will we make you feel bad if you make up a goal post where nothing counts until [your explicit marker]? Yeah, probably, cuz yeah, that’s problematic. Does it make them feel small? Tough shit tbh. For the last year or so I’ve dealt with people taking warped and extremized viewpoints to try to bulldoze over me and when I finally said “ENOUGH” and slapped back with a brick wall of history and perspective, they all cried it’s mEaN. No, you guys just don’t know what to do when your placebo activism turns out to not have substance versus the actual issues at hand, and yeah, you feel small and yeah, you feel bad.

Especially when you realize misdirected and empty gay rage got you nowhere except a hand full of very old very directed old gay rage in counter, and you really can’t cry victim after stomping on the work of activists ahead of you. If you spent years stomping on people and they finally stomp back, and you try to cry to someone as the victim, that’s literally playschool bully behavior. Grow up. When the nerd you’ve been trying to pick on for getting you to reconsider your ways turns out to have been schooled in 6 forms of martial arts and launches your ass to the nurse’s office when you come for round 14 of trying to give him a black eye, all your complaining is about being embarrassed that the nerd kicked your ass after trying to patiently deal with you this whole time. Again, playschool bullshit. Again, grow up.

This isn’t you (not Nonnie-you, just the Royal You, that know who You are) arguing with homophobes or antis anymore. Antis have even cracked in waves. Shipping-fandom-cosplaying-as-activism has completely lost the plot on what their activism lines mean but, a trained routine in thinking it was unvanquishable, have turned it against the wrong things, in the wrong way, and their own people and content. There’s now a few YEARS of “activists” flaying people for, while not 100% happy with the level of content, supporting the queer authors and content and lifting it up – warping it into lines of “settling” to attack them, to diminish them, to make THEM feel small and their own podium – now warped beyond recognition from its original position like a goddamn tea party – big and righteous; and when finally someone clobbers them with a big fat dose of reality of how far they’ve mutilated the dialogue in the name of ship warring, they complain about feeling small. And I’m sorry, fucking no. Not a soul is here to make you feel bad for wanting more. They’re here to make you feel bad for queerphobic deletion and goalpost jockeying.

As I’ve had to say like a repeating song chorus: You can do both: want and hope and push for more, while *not* deleting the queer text and efforts at hand. Complex thought processes are less appealing to many people than linear pile driving, but it’s generally how the universe functions. And when it comes down to realizing they’re setting unlevel goalposts for the levels they *want* to push it to, suddenly yeah, there’s a rug pull, and they have a choice to pull left or right. If they double down, that’s their choice. But I don’t have to humor that choice or give it platform.

But one thing I hold 0% patience for is people saying they’re here for the rep fight while simultaneously pretending there isn’t a rep fight and trying to villainize core elements like incrementalization or struggling queer authors, many of which beg for public understanding.

We could be having nuanced conversation about the values of different forms of representation; we could be having nuanced conversation about how to effectively organize to help these queer authors into better situations. We could be talking about the show’s evolutionary path, or even culture’s social evolution path and how this show will age with public perception over the years. We could be comparing it to stages of LGBT history.

But we’re not. We’re having conversations where people, abandoning their former angle of discussion, are now screaming “pics or it didn’t happen”, are now tossing up goalposts they themselves used to call homophobic only a few years ago, are now rewiring the dictionary or entire AV medium study (sometimes while claiming themselves an authority while literal cinema literacy sources and decades of studies or even just flat-ass LGBT history say they’re wrong) because they want to feel righteous for demanding more without any actual organized effort or support. They want so desperately for the remaining upset to pass as activism. So badly to flatten even other LGBT community members for trying to hold up the queer canon, because it wasn’t the canon they wanted. And once they realize someone cast Reflectga and their own bullshit methods mow them down, this time with amplified substance of the actual world beyond, they cry foul, that *they*, not the people they’ve been trying to mow over, are being cruelly bullied, just because someone said – no, enough, you’re acting like clowns, I’m fucking over biting the bullet to listen to you on it, you are well past the pale folks.

Miss me with it, fandom. If I have to explain any further than this why one of these is activism and one of these is not, then you’re already beyond hope in the field anyway. I’m not here for your petty ship war nonsense. The representation clearly isn’t for you little fucking tumblr goblins so willing to shred it for not performing to and for you how and when you want regardless of circumstance, much less if you’re even in the damn demographic being represented to goddamn begin with. No, a cis lesbian doesn’t get to tell a trans person how their rep should look. A trans man actually can’t tell a cis gay man how his should look either because their paths are fucking different.

No, a bunch of women should not be bulldozing over and deleting shit and say it’s For The Gay Men while the vast majority of LGBT men in this fandom hide away in recesses because they’re tired of being bulldozed over if they don’t comply with the shitty fandom dialogue. Or the few that do that warp into it and abandon their original points just from sheer peer pressure – often younger ones, often outside of the demographic. They certainly shouldn’t be trying to flame a middle aged male queer & all other liberal and socially conscious rights rights media representation-commenting activist for writing within his limits about middle aged queer male content. That isn’t how this. Mother. Fucking. Works. I shouldn’t HAVE to have little cluster hoards of LGBT men I adopt that hide in DM or outside of fandom space entirely and poke their nose out with peeps of cautious gratitude and fish around to see how supportive I *really* am – it *shouldn’t* have surprised one of my newly made best friends that I understood the problematic nature of penetration culture and heteronormative ideas of MLM in this fandom. Or to cautiously click my recs because they’re worried about getting fucking ass stomped for daring to speak up on their own representation. It shouldn’t BE like that.

You wanna support queer creators? Y’all missed that boat because you were too busy being headass to organize and actually petition the network. No, screaming at execs until they delete social media and put a black mark on the idea, @’ing accounts with spam until you’re put on a mute list and negatively impact marketing algorithms, that’s not petitioning. Building portfolios and presentations delivered sensibly are. A few did. Good for those people. Fuck everyone else. Virtue signaling nonsense. No wonder they’re so enamored with shitty mass marketing as a goal.

“WELL IT SHOULDN’T BE THAT WAY!”

Yeah well welcome to being a grown up. It is, whether you like it or not. It’s hard out here. America shouldn’t have a giant orange cheeto racist for its president either and yet here we fucking are. Life isn’t fair. So figure out how to actually put feet on the ground and change it instead of yodeling online like a bunch of idiots at the people trying to help you. Bobo sure as fuck did a long fucking time ago and never stopped. Maybe you should catch up. Cuz even at “slow and steady wins the race” he’s gone miles ahead of you while you’ve been distracted anally grooming like a cat or some shit.

Imagine how (not) far queer rights would get if every incremental step we took, even if it wasn’t far enough – TV or real life – we just let everyone scream and take away entirely because it wasn’t the kind you wanted. It’s regressive garbage. It doesn’t actually do you any benefit. It doesn’t do the community any benefit. It doesn’t do queer creators any benefit. It doesn’t do queer cinema history any benefit. Nobody but homophobes and other agenda’ed asshats benefit. Which is why they trained you to think like this to begin with. Stop.

#supernatural #spn #representation #bi!dean #whatever #tired #tired gay #that's what I'll tag this #destiel #lgbtqia

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it-sucks-to-be-jean · 6 years

Text

SNK Crack Poll Results [Ch. 106]

thanks to all 429 people who participated this month! you guys really seem to like this poll!

DID YOU GUYS ENJOY THE CHAPTER?

Regardless of how well-written the chapter is to you, 399 people decided that they enjoyed reading this month’s chapter.

I have crippling depression.

It was good. Real good. But we need more flochKasa Tbh..

I give it 10 lobsters out of 300 clams

No nikosasha??? -flips table- That's it! I'm making my own poll

Eren's manbun will pierce the heavens

Please yeet Zeke out of Paradis

WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE HISTORIA/ANNIE QUOTE?

It’s surprising but it seems everyone came to a unanimous decision that Isayama is the world’s biggest troll.

HOW MANY CHAPTERS WILL IT TAKE FOR ZEKE AND LEVI TO RECONCILE?

While the time it takes was pretty split, most people seem to agree Zeke and Levi’s hostility will soon blossom into romance.

they already smashing

They won't get over it till Levi kills Zeke and he cries tears over his lover

Implying it's not all playful banter. Kukukuku.

6 to 10 pages

They are already doing the snex

One more zevi mention and I'm going to disown you and send your corpse to Marley

HOW LONG WILL EREN AND JEAN STAY IN JAIL?

A large 177 of you believe Chapter 107 is when they will be freed, while 216 of you aren’t as quick to release them.

Falco will be adopted by Hisu while Gabi will be adopted by Zackly

The exact same time it will take ZeVi to become canon

Historia released them already

Gabi will be released immediately. Falco will get the death penalty

they won't be let out, they will try to escape during multiple chapters like in The Great Escape; actually a whole volume will be dedicated to /just/ that

When they both learn how to grow a beard properly

jean cinammon roll will be loved.

WHO HAD THE BEST REACTION TO EREN’S LETTER?

With 103 votes, Levi pulls out for best reaction to Eren’s decision to leave Paradis.

HOW’S THE SHIP?

sorry for asking.

My last 3 romantic ships sank, and now Sasha is gone, so my last romantic ship is now sunk too...

It was dead before the chapter began

The fandom thinks Armin’s a Pussy and that Eren is a chaotic asshole... not great.

sasha and mikasa

Eremika is dead :-(

As far as I know Erwin is still dead, so you can imagine...

MY SHIP(YUMIHISU) HAS LONG SUNK COS YMIR DIEDD

i cant believe my nikoloXsasha ship died before it even started

I need more ACKERFUCKINGTALK Levi and Mikasa interaction pls.

Miche and Nanaba are still dead, but now monkey trouble gets to live in their house.

BEST HANJI?

Where did he come from where did he go? Where in the world did Moblit go?

All hanji is good hanji

Hange with two eyes

Stahp

Hange with several glasses

Hange the three eyed raven

FALCO FACE SCAR?

I'M WATCHING FUCKING E3 AND CYBERPUNK IS THERE

Oui

hes going through puberty

That's his SHARP JAW GOING FLAT BACAUSE HE IS DYING INSIDE

the shadow of regret

Talk shit get hit

ereh

EREN WASTED SOME WATER

Truly, Eren has gone down a horrible path that the fandom won’t forgive him for.

ShitMachine 4 him

He'd better pray Levi never finds out about that mess...

It is the holy water to cleanse the devil.

but it's cool dude he's got a manbun now

where is the faucet even

That's holy water, and he needs a lotof it to wash away all of his sins

all of the above

WHO HAS THE BEST BACKSIDE?

Eren took the gold this time, leaving Flatass-win alone in his title as flattest butt around.

Flatasswin for the win!!!!

thank you chair anon, thank you

WHAT OF YELENA’S SHIP?

I believe this comment states it best

's ok

WHICH LOOK DID NILE DOK ROCK?

Wtf, I hadn't even noticed that Nile has this new haircut until doing this poll. That Bertolt-esque haircut doesn't suit him to be honest.

Isayama stated Bertolt’s story wasn’t done yet anon, looks like Nile has decided to take his place.

HOTTEST FACE?

You guys have a weird taste, I like it.

WHO DID YOU RELATE TO WHEN SASHA DIED?

Armin and Jean have once again shown why they are meant to represent humanity.

You forgot Mikasa sat next to her grave <_<

The one of Mikasa sitting by the gravestone

Sitting next to Sasha’s grave like Mikasa

I’m currently going to therapy

At least she’s spared of the shit show that’s about to go down

WHO DO YOU WANT TO SEE RETURN IN CHAPTER 107?

Looks like Jean’s Faith in Humanity is very welcome to return to the story. We’re waiting Isayama. Give Jean his Faith in Humanity Back. Isayama?

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE CHAPTER

Was that a goofy chapter or what? Isayama if you want to make us hot and bothered give us some nice muscular booty ass, don't make it flat. Hanji's and Levi's opposite "welcome" was spot on personality wise. Zeke's photograph should be next to the word Betrayal in the snk dictionary. The ship drawn in the background between Yelena and Levi is not a coincidence I guess haahaa haa. No Flock for a chapter thank god.

Armin didn't reach his Armout to Eren or Mikasa

Who would've expected a manga about mindless flesh mechas to have such a poignant depiction of war?

They all need Jesus

This is actually going to be somewhat serious lol but for real if Gabi and Falco being on Paradis is gonna motivate Reiner to live just a bit longer someone's gonna need to tell him quick if Marley wants to keep the Armored Titan if ya know what I'm sayin. Hell for all I know Reiner hasn't even gotten up since he fell down after his brief scuffle with Eren. I'd actually like to see how the fuck he'll be convinced to not just chill in the Armored Titan for the rest of his life lol. That'll be a really interesting scene and maybe even a super emotional one.

Yelena is a lost twin sister of Marlowe. She fell in love with Zeke without knowing that he liked only men.

I got my heart ripped out in 105 just to have it stomped on in 106 by seeing Sasha happy and trying new things knowing she ded

I love you

i...well...um...thank you?

Where is Kiyomi?

who is Kiyomi?

ANY PREDICTIONS FOR ONLY NEXT CHAPTER?

It will be numbered 107

Gabi meets Eren: "Onii-san?"

East Clan arrived in Paradis and Mikasa's development

i dont care as long as it involves some fierce hate flirting between zeke and levi üòî‚úäÔ∏è

Reiner and Porco hook up and take back Gabi and Falco Taken style

Reiner and Porco will wake up to see their hometown in ruins and learn of the fact that Udo and Zophia are dead and Gabi and Falco are in Paradis. Basically more Reiner suffering idk.

You'll mention Onyankopon in your poll

we’ll see about that

Kiyomi appears again after 7 months

I have a feeling we will finally get to see how Marcel died

Back to Gabi and Falco's perspective. We got an overview of Paradis in a summarization chapter, as well as a closer look at the current state of the characters. Now we understand everything vital for the short term, and can get back to best boy Falco. This will allow Isayama to continue to obscure the details of the full Paradis plan, and/or any Zekerets, and develop simultaneously the best character and worst character.

Annie will be free from her crystal. 699% of the SC will hate Gabi. Mikasa will get to meet Kiyomi. Asian fucking ties with Paradis. Duh, Marley will plan for the counterattack.

I just want a big flashback of Erwin picking flowers and skipping everywhere as he hands them out to mystified onlookers.

Mikasa will say "Ereh"

Chapter 105 was just a drunk Armin's dream and he wakes up to an alive Sasha and they haven't attacked Marley yet thank you

Jean is hotter than ever

More aftermath. I feel like it could switch back entirely to Marley for the chapter with the way this chapter concluded (the establishing/reiteration of EMA's thoughts/motives as a conclusion works as a nice temporary wrap-up so the switch can be made naturally) but personally I think, if executed well, it would be more interesting for both Paradis and Marley to be in the next chapter

Historia will say at least two words.

#snk poll #snk polls #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk 106 #snk crack

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kannuckthewolf · 6 years

Text

My personal thoughts on The Last Jedi

Here’s a list:

• Poe’s actions in the beginning were a product from his known knowledge of the layout of that dreadnought thanks to Zay Meeko from Star Wars Battlefront 2 DLC The Last Jedi. Should he have done it? Probably not. Did the cost of all those lives make his actions look reckless? Definitely yes. Was it still worth it? Yes and no, because the dreadnought was taken out, making it a great victory for the Resistance/Rebellion and the cost of life was massive. Which makes me wonder, what happened to B-Wings and Y-Wings? They still had X-Wings and A-Wings. If my memory serves me well, Y-Wings were bomber ships. What happened to them? Were they decommissioned or something?

• So if Luke went to Ahch-To do die, why would he leave two pieces of map that could help someone locate him? Was it specifically for only Leia so that when he died, Leia would bury or burn his body? That needs to be answered somehow because if he didn’t want to be found, then why would he make a map to FIND him?

• Why didn’t Luke ask Rey how she acquired his father’s lightsaber? Furthermore, how did Maz Kanata acquire that lightsaber? Last time we saw it, it went falling down a supposedly endless way on Cloud City in Bespin.

• The whole thing with Leia flying through space was... interesting. I mean, it was hinted heavily in Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi as well as the canon books she has Force abilities. Just... did it have to look Mary Poppins-like when she floated back to the cruiser? And how did, when that door open, did no one get sucked out into space?

• Vice Admiral Holdo. She was in Claudia Gray’s Leia, Princess of Alderaan book. So I knew who she was, but why wouldn’t she tell Poe her plan? Like the whole plan? Also she didn’t act like she did in the book. She had a weird speech pattern, not like Yoda. She looked like Holdo, but didn’t speak like her character.

• Which leads to wonder where were the Star Wars Loremasters in this? Where was Pablo Hidalgo? He does the visual dictionaries for the new movies. Why didn’t Rian Johnson ask him any of this was aligned with known Star Wars lore?

• Luke’s character. I mean, okay. Luke can change as a character. That’s fine. But the fact that Mark Hamill told Rian Johnson said that this Luke Skywalker wasn’t THE Luke Skywalker, I feel like Rian Johnson should’ve went back to the drawing board. Luke thinking killing Ben Solo, his own nephew, the son of his twin sister and his best friend, was a good idea just was not... Luke Skywalker. Remember, Luke Skywalker redeemed his father, Darth Vader, who everyone in the galaxy thought was irredeemable. Why not sit down and talk to Ben? Why not have an intervention for Ben?

• Also, his reason for his isolation was kind of a let down. Like, your nephew goes to the Dark Side so your response is to give up, cut yourself off from the Force, and run away?! Like what?! I thought the reason was to be more believable than that. Like, his wife (Mara Jade in my mind because she will always be canon to me) was killed by Ben Solo/Kylo Ren and maybe his child (boy or girl doesn’t matter) became hellbent on killing Kylo Ren so they went AWOL then Luke felt so guilty and shit that he lost all hope because not only had he let his nephew, sister, and best friend down, but his wife had been killed by said nephew and his child is going down the path of the Dark Side. You know, a little more emotional impact.

• The whole Canto Bight subplot. Why? We didn’t need that. I get the purpose for it, but it felt to Earth-like, too much Las Vegas/Atlantic City-esque. Also, Maz Kanata was playing a video game during that holo-chat with Poe, Finn, and Rose. You can’t tell me otherwise. Union dispute my ass.

• Vice Admiral Holdo’s scarifice was great with the hyperspace jump into the Supremacy and the Star Destroyers behind it. Just, it would have been more emotional impactful if it was Admiral Ackbar.

• Then again, this was Carrie Fisher’s last movie (Rest in Peace Carrie, you’ll always be my space princess and general). Why not kill Leia and have Holdo take Leia’s position in the Reistance/Rebellion?There were two emotional ways they could’ve done it. Instead, she lives at the end. They’re going to have to kill her off-screen and maybe give her a funeral scene in the next movie. Or just kill in a book or comic and have her funeral in said book or comic which would feel cheap in my opinion.

• Why kill Luke? I get Leia was supposed to have a big role in the sequel trilogy, but just switch her role with Holdo and have Luke die in the next movie. His death scene in this movie did bring tears into my eyes because of the binary sunset theme, reminding us of A New Hope.

• For people who gave The Force Awakens shit for having similarities to A New Hope, there were parallel scenes in this movie with Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. You can’t ignore that.

• Rey’s parents being no one. I’m okay with that. Remember, Anakin was a slave on Tatooine. He came from nothing. Hell, when we first met Luke, he was basically nothing to. While we did learn his father was a Jedi Knight in the Clone Wars, we didn’t see him as an heir to some great bloodline. He was a farm boy who finds out he has the Force. Rey is the same. Some junker girl who finds out she has the Force. Though, I’ll admit, it would’ve been nice if we got a training montage with Luke and Rey. He promised her three lessons and really only gave her one. The second lesson was just talking.

• Ben Solo/Kylo Ren’s personality seemed to switch back and forth between “I’m conflicted” and “I’m a monster and I’m okay with that”. Maybe that constant switching of personality was to show how conflicted he was, but... it was kind of jarring.

• Finn and Rose’s relationship came out of nowhere in my opinion. Rose, I like. Their relationship, not so much. Even Finn seemed surprised and confused when she kissed him.

• I feel like if Finn died in the way that he was about in this movie, I would feel like his arc is complete. He defected from the First Order, simply wanted to run away, then he met people that made him want to stay and fight for something beyond himself. He would’ve died a hero’s death in a heroic way. He would be remembered for this great heroic moment for all time. Instead, Rose crashes into his ship, “saving” him by dooming what remains of the Resistance/Rebellion.

• Luke’s astral projection fight with Kylo was pretty cool. Like, a part of you knew that wasn’t really Luke because he looked younger than he really was. But it was cool to see basically taunt Kylo, baiting him so that everyone could escape.

• The Luke and Leia scene felt more like a send-off to Carrie Fisher. “No ones ever really gone” (or something to that affect). Carrie Fisher will always be with us.

• Snoke dying the way he did wasn’t satisfying to me. Yes, Ben Solo/Kylo Ren killing was great. It was like that scene in Return of The Jedi where Vader’s watching the Emperor cackling as he electrocutes the crap out of Luke and Vader’s like “fuck this, I’m going to save my son” and picks up the Emperor and tosses down a long shaft. That was satisfying. Yes, people cheered at my first screening of the movie (the second time no one seemed to care). But then, after Rey and Kylo fight those red guards, Kylo’s like “I’m going to rule the galaxy and Rey, you should totally join me” and she’s like “Dude, what are you doing? Don’t do this” then the fight over Anakin’s lightsaber which is split in two. Seriously, you have Kylo kill Snoke and making it seem like he’s going to turn back to the Light then it’s all just kidding lol. Then, you don’t have the balls to make Rey go evil because you need that Jedi/Sith battle in your next movie.

• That brings me to this point. People say this movie takes risk. I’d argue it really doesn’t. Yes, they changed Luke’s character drastically. But they swing back and forth. Poe and Holdo’s tensions could have been avoidable if she just told him her plan, instead they make seem like she’s shady as all hell and Poe decides to mutiny for logical reasons until we finally know the whole plan and Poe is now all for the plan. Rey and Ben/Kylo’s Force Bond talks were great, but they didn’t really change either of their characters (though Reylo fans will tell you they’re totally canon now even though she rejects him after their fight on the Supremacy). They could’ve killed Leia and they almost did until they brought her back to life. Luke was against fighting the First Order because he wasn’t just going to walk out in front of the entire First Order with a “laser sword” and fight them even though that’s exactly what he does at the end.

• The Porgs were cute but unnecessary. Poor Chewie. He was under utilized in this movie.

• Captain Phasma was under utilized AGAIN! Seriously, you got Gwendoline Christie to play a kick-ass stormtrooper who’s apparently cool as all hell and then she gets even less screen time as she did The Force Awakens?! You hyped her up so much that of course what little she did do in the last two movies let us down!

• The Yoda scene was nice. It was nice to Empire Strikes Back Yoda again.

• General Hux has been a laughingstock in this movie. He became less redhead Hitler and more idiot general who wants validation.

• Another thing about Snoke. Look, when you or your parents first Return of The Jedi without any knowledge about the Emperor, did you care? No. You didn’t know his background. All you knew was that he was a scary old guy that Darth Vader took orders from. He was intimidating like Snoke was. We only learned about his origins through books and the prequel trilogy. Yes, I thought we’d see him in all three movies, but *shrugs* oh well. We’ll probably learn about him in books and comics now.

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argyle-s · 6 years

Text

The Shape of Things to Come Chapter 3/?

Rating: Mature

Read at Ao3

Start at the Beginning

After a year in the past, Kara makes her public debut as Supergirl.

Chapter 3 - Rebirth

Notes:

In this story, Kara will occasionally lapse into Kryptonian. The first instance of this happens in this chapter. The Kryptonian in this story is taken from Doyle Kryptonian which is where most of the Kryptonian used on the show is taken from. Translation was done using the resources at Kryptonian.info, and I suspect the quality of the translation will vary widely.

In the earlier drafts of this story, I either didn’t use Kryptonian, or I wrote the sections in English and set it off using special formatting, but I was unhappy with that, so I went back and rewrote them in Kryptonian. The problem with that is, the Kryptonian sections were written out of order and my skill with the language (such as it is) has improved considerably over time.

I’ve tried to go back and fix any errors, but:

1). The dictionary is fragmentary and I’ve had to work around holes in the language, or when I couldn’t, construct new words with guesswork.

2). I am absolute shit at learning languages that are whole and functional, so one that only exists in fragmentary form is even worse.

Any errors are mine. Any weirdness with the language and phrasing is either me being an idiot, or an artifact of my take on how Kryptonian culture and religious beliefs would influence speech patterns. My Krypton sticks as close as possible to the show, but I have made huge changes from comic canon to make Krypton fit more closely with our current understanding of what the reality of life would be on a planet in order around a red sun.

Most translations are fairly literal translations, though the order of the words is different, because English uses a Subject Verb Object sentence structure, whole Kryptonian uses Verb Subject Object sentence structure (example: The sentence "Kara punched Maxwell Lord" would be "Punched Kara Maxwell Lord" in a Verb Subject Object language like Kryptonian). In some cases however, the meaning in English can vary from the literal translation. In those cases, I will give the literal translation first, followed by the Semantic Translation.

Two final notes.

1). I take it as a given that Alex speaks Kryptonian, because she grew up with Kara, and she spent two years fiddling with Kara's pod and the hologram, and anything in canon that says she doesn't will be cheerfully ignored because it's bullshit.

2). Kara *does* know how to swear, but she’s only good at it in Kryptonian.

Update: This story has now been betaed by @ifourmindbeso. Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.

Kara Danvers’ Apartment. National City. Earth 38, October 8th, 2015

(One Year Later)

Kara opened the door to find a very annoyed J’onn standing there, glaring at her.

“Good morning,” she said brightly, waving him in. She walked over to the kitchen and pulled down a package of Chocos and a glass, which she filled with milk.

“You do realize the DEO is not eHarmony for aliens, right?”

“Compatible Partners,” Kara said as she took a bite out of her pre-breakfast bagel.

“What?” J’onn asked as he picked up a cookie and dunked it in the milk.

“eHarmony only does listings for straight people. Compatible Partners is the one for Gays and Lesbians. Besides, I use Chemistry.com.”

“I don’t care if you used gayalienbootycall.com. This arrangement is not so you can vet your dates.”

Kara sighed. “J’onn, I am not *dating* Maggie Sawyer. We’re just friends.”

“Oh, so you aren’t meeting her tonight at some place called Girlbar?”

“Well, yes, I am. But I don’t date women who are still heartbroken over their ex-girlfriends. Think of it as recruitment.”

J’onn held up his finger and started to say something, then stopped. He started to speak again, but stopped, before finally just shaking his head. “First you wanted me to do a full security clearance on that little computer nerd. Now this. How does any of this help us with your friends from Fort Rozz?”

“Winn helps because Winn is one of only six or seven hackers on the planet that can go toe to toe with a Coluan and come out on top, and unless you’ve suddenly managed to convince Victor Stone, Felicity Smoak or Rabiah Zinoman to sign up, we don’t have a lot of other options, because Tim Drake and Barbara Gordon are serious no-fly zones and the other two people who could potentially pull this off are definitely not on our side. Maggie Sawyer, on the other hand, will give us an in with NCPD, which is going to be incredibly useful when it comes time to lay the smack down on Maxwell Lord.”

“You know, you keep talking like you’re in this fight, but so far, all you’ve done is sit on the sidelines and feed us a few names.”

“You’re mad about the armored car last night,” Kara said.

“You’re damn right I am. Two agents in the hospital. One of them may never walk again. You could have stopped it, but instead, you’re fetching coffee for some-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, J’onn,” Kara said. “You know nothing about Cat Grant and much as I like you, if you insult her in front of me, I will put your green ass through a wall.”

J’onn sighed and held up his hands in surrender. “Fine.”

“Besides, you’re every bit as capable as I am, and you didn’t do anything to stop it either. We both have our reasons for keeping secrets.”

“Yeah, but your case is a little different.”

“It is,” Kara said. “But it would expose me while the leader of the escapees was away. If that happened, there would have been open war in the streets.”

J’onn sat down on one of her stools and picked up another Choco, dunking it in his milk. “You keep talking about this leader like you know him.”

“Her,” Kara said.

J’onn froze, with the cookie half way to his mouth. His eyes narrowed. “You do know her.”

“I do. General Astra In-Ze, War Leader of the House of Ze, Daughter of In-Ze and Myara Bar-Ul, and twin sister of Alura Zor-El.”

“She’s your aunt?” J’onn said.

“Yes,” Kara said.

J’onn popped the cookie in his mouth and started chewing, and Kara watched the emotions playing over his face.

“I didn’t tell you until now, because I thought you might decide I was a security risk.”

“Then why tell me now?”

“Because this is the last thing I need from you before I openly declare myself. Once Alex is safely out of the way in Geneva, little Kara Danvers is going to take the first of Astra’s heavy hitters off the board.”

“You have a plan?” J’onn asked.

“I do. You’re probably not going to like it, but I do.”

He reached up and started rubbing his temples. “What else is new?”

***

She smiled at Winn as he approached her with his tablet, walking beside her on her way to her desk.

“Did you see this? There was an armored car robbery last night. Now, there were no witnesses except this homeless guy who swears the perp had horns.”

“Thanks,” Kara said as she excepted a shipping tube from Brad with the proof of the new bus stop poster Cat needed to approve.

“Like, on his head,” Winn said as she turned back to him.

“Well, that’s usually where horns go,” she said. “But you’re sure it wasn’t just a prominent brow ridge?

“Come on Kara, it’s an alien.”

“I don’t know, Winn. I mean, Superman’s an alien, right? He seems to look pretty normal.”

“Well, how do we know? He could be hiding anything under that suit.”

Kara shrugged. “Isn’t James Olsen taking over the art department today? Maybe we could ask him. They seem close.”

“Now you’re just making fun me.”

Kara shook her head as she sat down. “Never. Well, except for when you lose at Small World.”

“Hey, your sister cheats.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Fine,” Winn said, as he went over to his desk and sat down, pointedly turning his back to her, which gave her just enough privacy to zap Cat’s Latte with her heat vision. “I won’t invite you to go see ‘The Martian’ with me then.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said, turning back to her.

“I can’t,” Kara said. “Maggie and I are going to Girlbar.”

“Really?” Winn said, a grin on his face. “When are you gonna introduce me to your hot cop girlfriend?”

“Winn,” Kara sighed. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Winn shook his head. “I never should have started you on Rizzoli & Isles. Now I’m destined to lose my gaming buddy to some tall, dark Italian Detective with a smoky voice.”

Kara laughed. “I told you I’m into blondes, but the medical examiner thing is just icky. Besides, Maggie is Latina and shorter than you are, which is saying something since I’m pretty sure you get carded going into PG-13 movies”

“That hurts,” Winn said, putting his hand over his heart. “That really hurts, Kara.”

“You were asking for it, standing there, being so short.” She paused for a moment, then looked up. “She’s here,” she said as she stood up, picking up her tablet and Cat’s Latte.

The elevator door opened, and Kara’s heart gave the same small little flutter that it always did when she saw Cat.

“Good morning, Ms. Grant,” she said, letting every bit of the happiness she felt come through. She’d been in the past for a year, and seeing Cat walk off that elevator never got old.

She saw the small tug of a smile that pulled at Cat’s lips before she started on her tirade. “The only reason I bought this building is because it has a private elevator. That way, I don’t have to get soaked in cheap cologne every morning getting to my office. Find out who used it, and have them reprimanded, or bathed. I don’t care which.”

Kara just nodded as she followed Cat into her office. “Here’s your Latte, Ms. Grant. Hot.”

Cat took it from her. “As always,” she said. “I have a meeting with the board today at lunch, so cancel sushi with my Mother.”

“Got it. Should I also cancel your therapist, since you aren’t seeing your Mother?”

“Good idea, Keira,” she said, then took a sip of the Latte. “Hmmm… This tastes different.”

“Noonan’s was out of hazelnut so I got you almond instead. I hope that’s okay.”

“I don’t hate it, but do have a talk with the management down there. If they’re going to take up space in CatCo plaza, they should at the very least be able to keep their supplies stocked. Also, I’ve emailed you a list. Prepare termination letters for the Tribune as noted.”

“Oh. Ms. Grant, I’ve been thinking about that and I’d like to make a recommendation.”

“You’ve been thinking about a decision you knew nothing about until ten seconds ago?” Cat asked.

“I’ve been thinking about it since the financials came in back in January. The Daily Planet’s the only print newspaper that isn’t taking a beating, and that’s pretty much entirely Superman’s doing. They put him on the cover something like fifty-three percent of the time.”

“Are you going to tell me something I don’t know, Keira?”

Kara nodded her head. “Well, we already do a lot of content sharing with digital, but I was thinking, why not merge the Tribune with digital entirely and try doing an interactive newspaper.”

“And how, exactly would that work?”

“A smartphone app. We could put QR codes at the end of each story, which link up to a digital expansion of the story. It’s sort of a hybrid monetization model. Digital gets the basic story for free, but people who buy the tribune get free access to the expanded story content, but digital-only users have to subscribe to get the expanded content.”

“Hmmm… That’s actually an interesting idea, but it doesn’t solve the immediate issues with circulation and it will increase the editorial load.”

“Not if we’re sharing the content across digital and print. We can even tie in to broadcast by including video segments as part of the expanded articles behind the pay wall. And the best part is, we can do a hybrid subscription model as well. Customers can choose to watch an ad before the video segment and have inline ads embedded in the expanded article, or they can pay for the content to get it ad free. We’d have to eat the losses on the Tribune while we restructured and built out the new workflow, but it would save a lot of jobs and we’d be ahead of the curve on digital and print integration.”

Cat stared at her for a minute, then nodded. “Hold off on the letters for now. Type this up as a proposal and go get me the layouts from the new art director.”

Kara grinned. “The proposal is already in your drop box. I added it last night. I’ll go get you the layouts now, Ms. Grant.”

***

She stepped into James’ office with no small amount of trepidation. Her relationship with James was one of the biggest regrets of her previous life. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been attracted to him. She liked guys well enough, from a purely physical stand point. She mainly told people she was a lesbian because homoromantic bisexual was confusing to a lot of them and that was before she even got into questions of species. The problem with James was, she’d been more in love with the idea of him than she had been with him and James had been more in love with his idea of her than with her. Things might have gone differently if they’d gotten together before Myriad and her death ride with Fort Rozz, but that day had changed something inside Kara. It had burned away so much of what Eliza and Jeremiah and society in general had saddled her with in terms of expectations of who and what she wanted to be and left a truer, purer version of herself behind. Her feelings for James had been part of that, but it had resulted in a lot of awkwardness and hurt feelings on James’s part.

It didn’t matter, because Kara was determined not to not make the same mistakes again. No dating James and no Battle of CatCo plaza, either.

“Mr. Olsen, are you here?” Kara asked.

“I’ll be just a minute,” came a muffled voice.

Kara stepped a bit further into the office, and spotted James digging through a pile of boxes.

“I’m just here for the layouts,” she said. “If you tell me where they are, I’ll get out of your way.”

“No trouble. Just let me finish here and I’ll get them for you.” He looked up from the box of trophies and plaques he was going through and stopped for a moment. “Hey,” he said as he stood up. “I’m the new guy.”

Kara nodded. “James Olsen, I know. Clark speaks very highly of you,” she said.

“You know Clark?” he asked.

“Of course. Oh,” she stuck out her hand. “Sorry, I’m Kara Danvers. Clark’s my cousin.” She saw a bit of surprise in his face, probably at the idea that Kara would be so open about their relationship. “Don’t tell anybody though. Cat would probably think I’m spying for the Planet if she knew.”

James laughed and took her hand, shaking it. “Now that does sound like the Cat Grant I know.”

Kara looked over, and let herself smile as she caught sight of the print of James’ photo of Kal. “And there’s the photo,” she said, letting go of James’s hand, and stepping around him. “You do good work. This almost looks like he posed for it.”

“He did,” James said. “Don’t tell anyone though. They might take away my Pulitzer.”

“Couldn’t have that,” Kara said as she lifted the print. “I’ve got to ask. What what’s he really like?”

This time James smiled, and Kara wanted to kick herself for not seeing the way he felt written on his face the first time they’d had this conversation. “He’s everything you want him to be and more. I mean…” He chuckled. “I was scared to move out here, but, uh, he told me the biggest risk was never taking any, so…”

Kara nodded and looked down at the print again, running her fingers over the image of her baby cousin in all his heroic glory. It was easy to let the longing shine through. She hadn’t seen Clark since she came back, and before that, he’d been dead for years in her personal timeline.

“Take it.”

“Hmmm?” she said, looking up at James.

“Take it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Kara smiled. “Thank you.” She looked down at the print for another moment, then back up at James. “Layouts?”

“Oh,” he said. “Yeah.” He picked them up off the light table and handed them to her. “Nice to meet you, Kara Danvers.”

“And you, James Olsen,” she replied, taking the layouts. “I’d better get these back before Ms. Grant fires someone.”

***

In the year since Kara’s trip back from the future, she’d mostly avoided dating. She hadn’t done it at all in the first month or so, but Eliza had kept hounding her. Finally, during Thanksgiving Dinner, she’d just told Eliza she didn’t want to be set up on a blind date with her old college roommate’s son because she didn’t want to date men at all. That had gotten Eliza to back off for exactly two weeks.

It wasn’t terrible, but Kara always felt a little guilty since the dates weren’t going anywhere. She wasn’t really over Sara and the Supergirl thing was coming. She knew what that would do to any potential relationship. She dated mostly to humor Eliza, and to help Alex keep Eliza off her back. She’d actually made a handful of casual friends she hung out with now and then and she’d managed to talk Cat into adding an LGBT-focused section to the CatCo website and to the magazine, which had done so well Cat was considering launching three topic-focused print magazines, and five topic-focused websites.

Maggie, though, had been one of the few good things that had come out of the dating thing. She knew the woman from the previous timeline of course and never would have agreed to a date with her, because dating your sister’s future wife was surely against some rule somewhere. But she’d been sitting in a bar, nursing her third virgin strawberry daiquiri after one of her Eliza-arranged blind dates had failed to show, when Maggie had sat down next to her and ordered a whiskey.

Kara couldn’t believe her luck. She’d struck up a conversation and for the last four months, she’d spent almost as much time with Maggie as she did with Winn. There wasn’t anything romantic about it, mostly because of the future Kara had lived through, but also because Maggie had been going through a long and nasty break-up with a girl named Darla, so Kara had spent a lot of time being a shoulder to cry on.

It hadn’t even really been much of a decision to bring Maggie into the fold earlier than before, because Maggie was amazing.

Tonight though, was something Kara had arranged carefully. She’d checked to make sure the bar had TVs that ran local stations so she’d get the news. She’d also set up news alerts for flight 237 Geneva and National City Airlines and directed them to her burner phone. The driver’s license in her purse was a duplicate, and the glasses she was wearing were a pair of cheap reading glasses she’d picked up at a Walgreens. The purse had a few other odds and ends in it. A spare lipstick, and a tube of lip gloss, a half empty tin of breath mints, a couple of tampons, an expired can of pepper spray left over from her college days. A couple of Noonan’s receipts, a bit of loose change, 62 dollars in cash, and a prepaid debit card. Nothing she couldn’t afford to lose, on the off-chance Maggie reacted poorly to finding out she was an alien without almost a year of history as Supergirl under her belt, but enough that it looked like it was Kara’s actual purse.

The whole thing would look careless to Maggie, like she was in a blind panic. Maggie, being Maggie, would try to return the purse and that would give Kara a way to induct her into team Supergirl.

She spotted the woman sitting at a table, checking her watch. When she looked up, her eyes fell on Kara, and Kara waved as she walked over.

“Hey, Maggie,” she said as she dropped into the seat across from her.

“Hey,” she said. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” Kara replied. “Not too bad yourself.”

“How’s Cat treating you?”

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. It’s a good week though. She’s only fired me twice.”

Maggie laughed. “Only you would consider that a good week.”

Kara shrugged. “It’s not like it ever sticks.”

“What’s the count up to?” Maggie asked.

“One hundred and ninety-eight. Looks like Kelly from fashion is going to win the pool.”

“I bet Winn will be disappointed.”

“Probably,” Kara said. “How’s the X-Files treating you?”

“Oh, you know, same old, same old. Men in black apparently abducted a birdman in Chinatown last night, and a Klingon with a glowing axe jumped the fence at the airport.”

“Sounds like a fun week,” Kara said, but she felt a small moment of worry. The Klingon with the glowing axe sounded a little too close to Vartox for comfort.

“Yeah. One more day and it’s over,” she said.

“Any plans for the weekend?”

“Not really,” Maggie said.

Kara rolled her eyes. “You are not going to sit at home and mope over she who will not be named.”

“I’m not moping,” Maggie said.

“No, you’re not. We’ll do something.”

“Like what?”

“There’s a women’s volley ball tournament down at National City Beach this weekend. We could go watch.”

“More like go so you can drool over the players.”

“I was thinking something more along the lines of me being your wing woman.”

“Kara, you would make the worst wing woman in history.”

“I would not!”

“Oh, do not give me those puppy dog eyes. No one is going to take a second look at me if you’re there.”

“That wouldn’t be an issue if you’d let me introduce you to my sister.”

“Your sister is straight,” Maggie shot back.

Kara snorted. “My sister is in denial,” she replied. “Trust me, she’d take one look at you and there would be an Alex-shaped hole in the closet door.”

“I’ll pass on the sister and the volleyball. Seriously, I-”

Kara held up her hand as she turned around.

“If you’re just joining us, shortly after take-off, National City Airlines, Flight 237 bound for Geneva is experiencing some loss of altitude. The pilot seems to be circling the city after apparent engine failure.”

Kara turned back to Maggie as she pulled open her purse, and took out two twenties. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” she said as she threw the money on the table.

“What? Why?”

“That’s my sister’s flight,” Kara said as she started towards the door. She didn’t wait to see if Maggie followed her. She didn’t need to. She heard the scrape of the feet of the bar stool as Maggie stood up. Heard the sound of the soles of her shoes hitting the ground. Felt the disturbance in the air as Maggie chased after her.

Kara moved more slowly than she could have. She knew she had time to spare. She’d picked the bar because it was along the flight path, and this time, she was neither out of practice flying, nor was she unfamiliar with the aircraft in question. She was already pulling her jacket off as she ducked into the alley, and she could sense Maggie coming around the corner as she tossed it aside. She ripped off the cheap drug store glasses and threw them in the same direction as the jacket as she ran, then she bent her knees and kicked off.

She nearly laughed when she heard Maggie scream, “Holy shit.”

Then she put everything out of her head but the task at hand.

She approached faster this time, her flight skills fresh and practiced from her regular runs out to Sanctuary, which is what she’d named her own not so little Fortress of Solitude. When the engine broke free, instead of plowing through it and showing the city with flaming debris, she caught it, and with a deft spin and shove, sent it splashing down gently into the bay. She wasted no time trying to push against the wing. Instead, she flew up under the plane and punched through the skin, grabbing the frame member tightly, and pushing up. There was no desperate turn to keep the wings from getting clipped. The plane cleared Otto Bender Bridge easily, and then Kara started a slow, gentle turn. The plane cleared the bridge a second time, before Kara guided it down gently into the water.

Once it had settled into the water, she kept pushing, sliding it along the surface, using her x-ray vision to make sure she didn’t hit anything until she ran it aground near the I-210 off ramp for National City Bay Beach. Once the nose of the plane was pushed up on dry land, Kara let go of the plane, and swam out, climbing up on the right wing. She stood, watching through the skin of the plane as people took movies and snap shots, before she gave Alex a nod through the window, and shot into the sky.

***

Kara had gone back to the alley, not at all surprised to find her purse, jacket and glasses gone. She’d known Maggie wouldn’t leave them. She’d been a bit worried she’d find the detective at her door, but as luck would have it, she was alone. She’d showered, eaten an order of fifty buffalo wings, and was most of the way through her large supreme pizza, while watching the news coverage.

“The passengers of Flight 237 appear to have a guardian angel. When, what many report to be a female flying form rescued them from certain death.”

“Leyna Nguyen is live at the scene.”

“Thank you, Rick. Guardian Angel would appear to be right. Not only did she rescue the passengers from a tragic end, but reports also indicate that she caught one of the plane’s engines as it broke free and kept it from falling on the city, and prevented the plane from hitting Otto Bender Bridge not once, but twice. Then, after setting the plane down in National City Bay, she pushed the plane up on shore, making rescue efforts and clean-up easier and much safer.”

“Oh, my god,” Alex said.

Kara hopped up from her spot on the couch and hugged her sister, careful not to bruise her this time. She stepped back, holding Alex by her shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She watched as Alex rubbed her forehead, and did her best not to sigh. She knew what was coming, and she’d been dreading this part of the night.

“Let me get you a drink,” she said. She walked over to her small kitchen and poured Alex a glass of the Johnny Walker Blue Label Alex kept at her apartment. She put the glass in Alex’s hand, and waited for her to drink it.

“So, let’s hear it,” Kara said.

“Hear what?” Alex asked.

“The part where you yell at me for exposing myself to the world, and tell me I can never use my powers again.”

“It sounds like you already know what I’m going to say,” Alex said.

Kara nodded. “You know, given how much you complain about Eliza, you sound just like her.” It was a low blow, and Kara knew it, but the flinch from Alex still made her wish it hadn’t been necessary.

“Because she’s right about this, Kara,” Alex said. “It’s not safe. What if people figure out who you are? What you are?”

“Then they figure it out. I didn’t travel two thousand light years to be an assistant my whole life. I had a mission, and maybe, yeah, it was already over when I got here, but that doesn’t change who I am. /.nahn khuhp w ,kahrah,zor,ehl .nahn khuhp w tiv inah ewuhshehd im ,kryptahnium, .nahn khuhp w aonah wukhaiiu zrhythrev ,ehl,/ My mother was Alura In-Ze, the chief Adjudicator of Argo, my Aunt was Astra In-Ze, a General and the War Leader of the House of Ze. I am the granddaughter of In-Ze, Myara Bar-Ul, Seg-El and Nimda An-Dor and descended in direct line from Erok-El and from the War Queens of the House of Ze.”

“Do you know what that means? My people, my culture, my entire world may be dead, but I am still a child of Rao. /.nahn ,rao, i chahvehd shokhpahs w pahdh tiv aorghahs ni waila/ I have not forgotten, and I will not bring shame to my house by hiding who I am like some coward. There are people out there who need me. People who I can help. If that means I have to take a few risks, then I will take those risks.”

“Kara-“

Kara held up her hand. “No. No, you should go. Go home, get some rest. Get used to the idea that this is happening.”

Alex huffed, in that special way all big sisters have when they want to let their little sister know they’re being annoying and unreasonable. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Alex said.

Translated from the Kryptonian:

.nahn khuhp w ,kahrah,zor,ehl I am Kara Zor-El

.nahn khuhp w tiv inah ewuhshehd im ,kryptahnium, I am the last daughter of Krypton

.nahn khuhp w aonah wukhaiiu zrhythrev ,ehl, I am the eldest child of the house of EL

nahn ,rao, i chahvehd shokhpahs w pahdh tiv aorghahs ni waila Rao’s first law is to make the universe whole.

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