Kara groaned before you did. Her voice came out like gravel soaked in whiskey. “Ugh… tell me that planet exploded.”

You opened one eye. Mistake. The light filtering through the strange coral-pink curtains of the alien motel shoved you a dagger between the brows. “Not exploded,” you mumbled, voice raspy. “But I think my dignity did.”

It took you another five seconds to realize why the sheets felt like they weren’t yours. Or hers. Or clean. Or dry. Then you turned your head and saw her. Blonde hair everywhere. Bare shoulder. Krypto asleep on the floor, his tail twitching happily in his sleep—for once not growling at you like you owed him money.

You both blinked at each other.

“…Don’t,” she said, voice low. “Don’t say anything.”

You were already halfway through a confused “Did we—?” before her hand hit your mouth.

She sat up slowly, holding the sheet over herself with one hand and pointing at you with the other. “I swear to Rao, if you ever mention this—”

“I’m not even sure what this is,” you said honestly. “But… why are you smiling?”

Kara rubbed her face, chuckled darkly, and leaned back against the headboard. “Because I finally got you to drink with me, boy scout.”

You groaned, burying your face in a pillow. “That’s your takeaway? Not the fact that I woke up with you on Planet Saluxia, with a hangover and—" you looked around the room, "—what appears to be someone else’s tiara in my boot?”

She laughed. A real, full, belly-deep laugh. Not the sarcastic, angry snorts she gave when she was sober. “You deserved it. You kept trying to ‘help’ me,” she said, quoting the air with exaggerated fingers. “Always ‘Kara, drink some water,’ or ‘Kara, maybe don't challenge that bounty hunter to a shot contest’ or ‘Kara, stop punching the jukebox.’ You were like a judgmental mom.”

“I was trying to be a friend,” you groaned, pulling the sheet tighter around your waist as you sat up. “You said yourself, you feel like you have no purpose now that Kal doesn’t need you.”

Kara’s smile faded, just a little.

You pushed forward gently. “You matter, Kara. You always have. Even if Kal doesn’t need saving, maybe someone else does. You’re still the girl who was sent to protect, remember?”

She looked away. “It’s hard to protect people when you feel like a second draft.”

You didn’t say anything. What could you? But she saw the way you looked at her—really looked—and her face softened.

Krypto stretched, yawned, and ambled over… to you. His nose nudged your arm. You flinched instinctively, ready for fangs, but he only licked your wrist.

“What in the name of Rao?” you whispered. “He… likes me?”

Kara narrowed her eyes. “Okay now I know we broke something in the universe. Krypto hates you.”

“I guess red sun hangovers are powerful bonding experiences.”

“You’re telling me.” Kara stared at the ceiling, tracing invisible shapes with her finger. “You know, maybe this is the first time in months I haven’t felt like garbage in my own skin.”

You leaned back beside her. “Because you drank so much you forgot who you are?”

“No,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Because for once, someone stayed. Didn’t try to fix me. Just… got messy with me.”

You turned your head to face her. “So, are we gonna talk about the fact we woke up together or are we both pretending it was a cosmic accident?”

Kara smirked. “You first.”

You both stared, lingering on the unspoken truth. You didn’t know if this was the start of something… or the end of something broken. But for now, in the pale glow of an alien sunrise, on a planet where gravity felt just a bit too kind, with Krypto curled between you like a silent peace treaty, you let yourself exhale.

“…So breakfast?” you asked.

Kara stretched, yawning like a lazy cat. “Only if you’re buying. And if you ever tell Kal, I’ll fly you into a moon.”

You laughed. “Deal.”