Handling aliens, unnatural phenomena, and metahumans was all in a day’s work for the DEO. But handling children? That was unfamiliar territory.

Stumbling upon a celestial, alien child wasn’t exactly on the DEO’s checklist. They didn’t know where the child had come from or if they had parents—there were countless alien races in National City. For all they knew, this child might be the last of their kind. Yet the biggest hurdle wasn’t figuring out the child’s origins, it was the fact that the child refused to speak.

In the cold, sterile interrogation room, Alex sat at one end of the table, the small alien child at the other. They sat silently, staring down at the metal surface, trying to get the young child to speak for the last half hour.

“You know…” Alex started, her tone slow and soft as she slid a plate of warm, curly fries across the table. “You’ve been in here for a while. You must be hungry.”

She watched the child for any kind of reaction, but none came. Their silence was unyielding, just like it had been with J’onn when he tried to communicate with them telepathically.

Alex picked up one of the fries and popped it into her mouth, chewing exaggeratedly as she hummed in appreciation. “Mmm. These are really good,” she said, attempting to sound enticing. Still, the child didn’t even glance at the plate. They sat frozen, as if pulling them into this room had caused them to shut down entirely.

Alex sighed quietly, her shoulders sagging as she stood up. “Alright,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. “I’ll be right back.”

She left the room, leaving the child alone with the untouched plate of fries. The DEO was running out of ideas. There was only one person left to try. The door creaked open, and Kara, currently clad in her Supergirl uniform, stepped inside. She moved quietly, pulling out the chair across from the child and sitting down.

“Hey there,” she said gently, leaning forward just enough to try and meet the child’s eye line.