First: sorry for not having been around for so long. Life kicked me in the butt and I've been going through a lot of hard times recently. As a result, ALL and ANY writing has been tossed out the window. But I've been listening to music that's tickled my writing muse, and it seemed to fit this pair/story the most so I decided to pick it back up - or rather, finally put it on the forefront and not ignore it any longer.

On Ao3 these two chapters are separated, but I bundled them together for the ffnet release as it's kinda meant to be one. The first half, therefore, was mostly written in the summer before I got stuck on it. The second half flows a lot faster as a result. It'll also pave the way for actual headway in the relationship to be made, as you'll soon see. So these two sillies will stop beating around the bush very soon. Also, due to the nature of these chapters being put together, it means that the chapter count will now differ between this story and the Ao3 one. Just a heads up.

There's a lot of mass effect references because that's probably the most comprehensive sci-fi universe that I can pull knowledge from. I know what Kara does is a bit out of character for her so I hope I set it up to be believable - I think she doesn't necessarily have a love for space (though she does) as much as the interface and everything is a huge nostalgia thing for her. Oh, and pride, and she doesn't want to be shown up by Mon El, and maybe she wants to... flex her knowledge in front of him. Definitely not impress him.

"-And so it seems like they weren't operating on their own. We've seen them around but they're generally a pacifist race. Are you okay?"

Kara blinked, returning to the present. Her hands flat against the DEO console, She lifted her palms and placed them at her hips instead. "Yeah," she said, and she made sure to relax, to unscrunch her nose and widen her eyes. "Distracted," she amended.

Because her soulmate stared back at her from across the room, a smirk crossing his lips.

Alex rolled her eyes. "I thought you were okay with him."

"Okay with him being here," Kara corrected, and she merely rolled her eyes as the Daxamite gave a jovial salute. It would've been nice if she could will her pinging hand back into complacency, but knowing how that would just result in disappointment, she instead refocused her attention to her sister. "Sorry," she said apologetically.

"No no," Alex said. "I'm sorry. Order came from higher up not to keep him in a cell."

"Cells are for the guilty," was J'onn's fatherly tone, before the disguised martian took his spot beside her sister. "Which he isn't. So we thought it would be more hospitable to allow him the freedom to wander. It won't be a problem, I hope?"

Under his warm, yet somehow hard, chocolate brown gaze, Kara merely bit her lip and shook her head. J'onn's expression softened and twisted to one of understanding, before the usual smooth mask glided over to mask his emotions once more. "They call themselves Tror'ork. We've got about five in the alien registry, though our friend is not one of them."

Kara nodded along, trying to replace his infuriating smirk and exaggerated salute with the image of the assailant in her mind. She frowned. "I don't recall any defining features."

"That's because there barely is any, like Kryptonians. But I wouldn't worry about it," J'onn dismissed. "I surmise there aren't others of his kind who are involved in all this." Kara watched as her superior's eyes dragged from her, and with a jolt she realized he already knew what was preoccupying her brain. As if confirmation, he gave a single chuckle.

"Winn's training him, you know?"

Kara blanched. "What."

"Ow ow ow, Kara, that hurts—"

She knew it wasn't enough to actually cause damage, but it didn't stop her grip from tightening. "You're training him?" she hissed.

"Well, why not?" Winn's brown eyes were wide, though she could also see the guilt in them. "He's got strength, the speed, and he's your friend –"

"—he's not—" Kara cut off her seething hiss as she registered a footstep behind her, and her brain switched gears. "That doesn't matter, and you can't just let him take my punching bag, by the way –"

"—If you're talking about me," was Mon El's voice from behind her, "I think you keep forgetting I have superhearing –"

"—He's stuck here anyways, so I thought I'd help him out and be productive," Winn said quickly. "Now can you let me go, please?"

Kara sighed and stared down at her hand, emblem blazing strongly in a reminder of their real relationship. She loosened her grip. Her best friend instantly shot his hand away and rubbed at where her fingers had clenched only moments ago, only causing Kara to sigh again. "Sorry," she offered, almost sheepishly.

"Apology accepted," Winn muttered. "I thought –"he glanced upwards and then lowered his voice, "—thought you guys were getting along."

"We are," Mon El piped up as he traipsed towards them. Kara did her best to maintain impassiveness even as her hand burned brighter, like a homing beacon. "I think we're actually becoming friends," he mused, his voice dangerously close to her ear. Kara only stared back at Winn, whose expression twisted into one of half confusion but half understanding, only choosing to nod slowly in accordance.

Kara sighed.

"And you're welcome to join in with the sparring," Mon El continued. Kara glanced at him through the corners of her lashes, and she tried to ignore the wide-set grin that had spread across his lips. "I've learned a few things that I want to try. Nothing proves otherwise like a good rematch."

"I'll pass, thanks," Kara said with half a huff. She looked at Winn, who only shot her back a helpless glance. Kara inhaled once and exhaled out with a huff. She thought she was over it, she really did – and maybe some of what Mon El had said was true. So why did she feel so… frustrated?

It was as if the Mark knew too, for it wouldn't stop burning. But she ignored its presence and gave Winn half a smile in apology. "Although let me know if he somehow manages to punch harder than me."

And she left him there, bewildered, and it wasn't until she had closed the metal doors behind her did she hear a quiet yet distinct, "can I even punch harder than her?"

Kara heard him coming before his voice even started talking, though she refused to look up as she sat on a bench in the locker room. His footsteps were definitely succinct from human ones, she had realized; they were heavier, more deliberate, oddly grounded in a sense.

"Why don't you want me to be a superhero?"

His question was innocent, sure, but Kara did her best to avoid his grey gaze.

"You found me," she said instead. He gave a half chuckle.

"Yeah," he scoffed, raising his hand. "I've got a honing beacon." He popped the last syllables in a way that made Kara's lip curl and eyes fixate on her own mark.

Silence stretched between them as he snapped open a locker; she could hear the shuffling of belongings and activity, only half-heartedly tracking and picturing what he was doing with her mind. "You didn't answer," Mon El finally said, and Kara dragged her gaze from her hand and to the floor.

"I don't know," Kara said truthfully. "And believe me, I wish I did."

She heard the footsteps approach her and, before she could stop herself, she locked eyes with him. If she were truthful, Kara would admit that it was dangerously easy to lose herself in those grey depths; she was also painfully aware of his current shirtless state. "Put a shirt back on," she snapped in an involuntarily kneejerk reaction to her observation.

Mon El merely wiggled his eyebrows. "I find that this usually elicits a different response," he said cheekily, but he did have a black shirt curled around his wrists, a shirt that he wrestled back over his head. He pulled the material over his body, rolling over the spot where she merely knew the Mark was etched into his skin as well.

Daxamites, she couldn't help but to think with a twinge of bitterness. Their attitudes always seeming ready for a fling, even the placement of the Mark suggestive. Daxam, she thought, and she couldn't help but to recall the bewilderment of her loss of power on their surface, how she couldn't feel the warmth of a yellow sun basking into her skin.

"Do you miss Daxam?"

She said the words before she realized the thought had even crossed her mind. Even Mon El, too, seemed to hesitate; shirt mostly covering his torso, his fingers lingered along the hem of the garment. "Here and there," he admitted. "I left a long time ago."

There was something in his tone that she couldn't quite discern, an odd finality that, in many ways, Kara hadn't heard from him before. Though his answer only brought more questions, there was something stopping her from prying further. And for Mon El, it was clear that the conversation was over, on his terms this time.

And then there was playfulness back in his voice, a lightheartedness that somehow didn't quite reach his eyes. "So are you saying that you not wanting me to be a superhero isn't because I'm a Daxamite…?"

"No," Kara said immediately, too quickly, and his eyebrow quirked. Heat rushed to her cheeks, not quite managing to divert from her hand. "Okay, a little," she relented.

A small laugh bubbled from Mon El's lips. "Somehow, that's still unsurprising. Though a little hurtful." And she wasn't sure if he was aware of his own movements, but he reached behind him, fingers grazing along the fabric that covered his own mark. "What would I have to do to change your mind?"

It's already changing, Kara thought to herself, but this was definitely one of the ones she didn't want to voice for her own benefit. Maybe that alien had been right – that she was prideful – but it didn't feel like an insult. And she knew she wasn't the best poker player, but this time she really did want to keep her cards to herself.

"Your forehead's doing that thing," he said, rousing Kara from her thoughts. "When you crease your forehead when you're thinking? Or stressed."

"Wonder why," Kara muttered. "Don't you have anything better to do, or training to get back to?"

His expression shifted, and Kara for a second wondered if she said too much. But then she saw something else, like realization, dawning in his eyes, and before she knew it, that smirk was back on his hand. "Not like you didn't place yourself in the locker room on purpose."

Kara's cheeks flamed red as confusion and defensiveness shot through her spine. "What does that mean?" she blurted.

His smirk only grew. "Don't play poker. I feel like you'd be terrible at it," Mon El said nonchalantly, yet there was some kind of knowing in his voice that only replaced her defensiveness with annoyance. She had no clue why he'd suddenly look so smug, like he had it all figured out. "Oh come on Kara," he sighed, his voice now almost disappointed. "You know I'd find you."

"Yeah," Kara muttered. "Mark, remember?"

And it was then that he caught her eyes again, a brilliant hue of grey shining into her cornflower blue.

"And that's why you didn't leave the DEO to get away from me? Or the locker room, for that matter?"

The question, which she was quite aware was entirely rhetorical in nature, was somehow suffocating. "I work here," she muttered under her breath. Something in his prying expression shifted – it was a small crinkle in his eyebrows, a half smirk – and she sighed. "I wanted to know about your training, that's all."

"Because I'm dangerous?"

It was his usual tone: aloof, easily erring on smug, but for the first time, Kara detected something new reflected in the undertones of his voice he tried to hide – almost self-consciousness. Maybe she really was losing it. "Because I am curious. I'm only human – er, Kryptonian – you know the phrase."

"I actually don't," Mon El said, almost testily, but a small smile quirked at the corner of his lip. He sat down, elbows on his knees, hands entwined. "Ask away."

Kara swallowed. "Winn isn't… actually… training you to be a superhero, is he?"

His grey eyes were amused. "What do you mean?"

"Like speed training, bullet deflection…" Kara paused, racking her brain for some more training exercises she'd administer in Winn's place. "Civilian evacuation…"

And maybe it was due to the complete, unabashed honesty that was crystal in his gaze, or her the mark that seemed to provide her a new consciousness and reading for her to cross reference, or maybe – if she were completely honest – an understanding of him she'd recently developed that didn't rely on any mating marks or anything. But when he bit his lip and broke eye contact, she didn't need him to answer for her to know.

"Nope."

"Mm," was her only response, and Kara fought back the urge to fidget with her non-existent glasses in the 'oh-I-so-believe-you' reporter nod she perfected over the years at CatCo. She instead fiddled with the hem of her shirt before fixing it, and giving her best nonchalant shoulder roll as she could give. "Well, that's all I wanted to know. I'll see you-"

"—Wait."

Kara also hated the fact that she froze dead in her tracks.

"We… are becoming friends, aren't we? Or at least getting along?"

Kara wasn't sure what kind of response he was looking for from her. She didn't know why she stopped, too attentive, and maybe everything in her body language allowed for such a question to ever be asked. And the last thing she understood was the sudden rush she felt to her cheeks, the way her hands burned in intensity, the way each of her fingers made her aware of exactly how she was gripping the hand-bar to the stairs out of the locker room. The way her heart suddenly thudded unevenly, her throat was suddenly dry, and her thoughts were unfastened from reality, beyond all control no matter how hard she tried to grapple them, clasp the wisped ends before they were lost into the stratosphere.

"Nope," was what came out of her mouth instead.

And his responding "mm" oddly echoed her own only moments ago.

She didn't know what the urgent notice was for, but when Kara's phone vibrated in the unique pattern against her thigh, she gave a half-grin of apology to Eve before ducking out. The whole lactose-intolerant thing was beginning to lose its luster, Kara thought on her way to the DEO, maybe she needed to change it up. Celiac? Gluten intolerance? Kara grimaced. Neither seemed appropriate, and frankly she didn't want to trivialize those who had such difficulties in the first place.

But the thoughts all but vanished as it was Winn who greeted her as Kara landed. "That never stops being cool," he said quickly, as an aside, but Kara merely caught his elbow.

"You're not training Mon El?"

It had been two weeks since she'd first found out about him and Winn's "arrangement", and he was still being detained – for at least another month, or so Alex had told her.

"Not yet and are you allowing it?"

"Absolutely not," Kara responded through her teeth, though truthfully she couldn't quite muster the usual gusto in her response. Thankfully, Winn wasn't as receptive as Mon El had proven to be. The sudden flare in her hand had Kara on alert, and she found her gaze darting from cubicle to cubicle, from monitor to monitor, window to window, as if almost anticipating the unusual way his grey gaze would suddenly capture hers.

And she also barely found herself listening to what Winn was saying. "Sorry, what?" Kara mustered, all too aware (and painfully so) that she missed her cue to respond by half a beat.

Winn grimaced. "For all the times you remind me, very mortifyingly by the way, that you have superhearing..." he let the thought dangle for what Kara supposed was dramatic effect, but when she affixed her gaze back into his, he merely swallowed through a sigh.

"We think we found the planet of origin."

Kara raised an eyebrow. "But the order wasn't someone from here?"

Winn cocked his head to the side. "What we know from the Tro'ork is that they have a top down system. Like a hive mind of sorts – and it all leads to their home planet. Theoretically."

Kara willed her brain away from the soulmate alien problem in one hand, and more towards the tried to rip her brain apart alien problem she had in, in many ways, the other. "Jon mentioned that there's 5 of them on this planet, though."

"Perhaps they've disconnected from the Hive?" Winn offered with half a shrug. "Who knows - of course this is all hypothetical – but this this is their defining system. However, J'onn said he was working on his own. But it's a start." A few keystrokes and flourishes later, Kara found herself staring at a diagram of what she could barely identify as the Aysur System. A couple quick movements suddenly had the screen zooming in to one of the orbiting planets.

"Is that…" Kara dug through the recesses of her brain, trying to recall the brief introduction to this sector of the Milky Way. "Dronen?"

"Dranen. But close. And not relevant," Winn said in a very deliberate offhanded manner, and Kara couldn't help but to pout. Of course Winn would take the opportunity to gloat. "What we're more concerned with, is its moon."

"Aha!" Kara said quickly, and as smugly as she could muster, before he could continue. "You said home planet."

Winn's ears flared red. "You still got the name wrong – anyways it's not relevant - this is, well, moon number 23."

All the joy Kara felt at showing Winn up dissipated back into seriousness. "Out of?"

"Forty four. Yeah," Winn said as Kara blinked, trying to digest that information. "It's called Arvuna. And it's cold." Two more zoom ins later, and one of the specks that had outlined Dranen enlarged to fill the screen and revealed itself to be, at least in this view, as large as the planet it orbited. "We did some testing, set up the DPort to link to it to get some initial tests—"

"—D-Port?" Kara inquired.

"Dimensional Port – kind of a misnomer, actually, as we're not really traversing dimensions so much as its more like jumping through space at light speeds, kind of like a Mass Relay-"

"Winn."

The man threw his hands up. "Sorry sorry, I had to make something to get recognized into the DEO's main office—"

Kara sighed. "So you built this?"

Winn's lips quirked into a smirk as he cracked his neck in both directions. "Even the underpaid IT guy has some tricks up his sleeve."

Kara sighed again. "Keep going."

Winn swallowed and swivelled his chair back around. "So we did some diagnostics. As we expected – it's quite cold. Not unbearable for you, I'd suspect, but definitely not the most comfy for the homosapiens." Winn rolled his shoulders. "As we went over before, Tro'ork are essentially the same humanoid build, so you'll probably find it familiar. I'd assume lifestyle is the same."

"Right," Kara said, nodding. "So when are we going?"

"Going?" Winn repeated, just a beat behind. Kara paused before clearing her throat.

"Is that not why you called me?"

Winn stared for a moment before a small, incredulous smile spread across thin lips. "Oh, my bad – I just wanted to show you this. For some answers. There's no need to go – go, go – this instant, I mean we barely have it set up to relay back, and there's no telling where the order came from."

"Oh." It wasn't as if she was necessarily excited to go – not that her Kryptonian body often experienced the cold, but she had a feeling that a prolonged chill wasn't her style. If anything, the throbbing of her mark seemed to agree. Still, perhaps she'd been so used to the regularity of her summonings to the DEO resulting in a mission, to be just told that nothing necessarily was coming from the information she was getting from Winn was a bit odd, for the lack of a better sentiment. "So that's it?"

"Well I mean, in essence." Winn shrugged. "So how's CatCo?"

"The same," Kara responded. And as much as she enjoyed engaging in the pleasantries with her best friend, she wasn't exactly sure if she could forgive him for training Mon El. Speaking of which, as if the thought of him made it so the throbbing ceased being something she could ignore any longer. "Sorry, where's Mon El?"

Winn's half-enthusiastic smile stayed on his lips, though Kara could easily tell it shifted from genuine to almost a bit nervous. "Um, still here in the DEO. Although I guess you'd know if otherwise. Probably downstairs, I dunno. Can't you play, like, hot and cold with it?"

"With my Mark?" Kara grimaced. "Yeah, in a weird, stalker-y way."

Winn raised his hands again. "I didn't mean to imply. I actually like the guy. He's not creepy."

"No," Kara admitted. "But he is… surprisingly friendly."

Winn sighed before rolling his chair closer to her. "You know, I'm telling you this as your best friend, who has seen you be with other people before – and now that I know you have the Mark, and – well, he honestly just wants you two to get along. Like, not need to be dating or anything that might be a weird, Daxamite thing to do; he just genuinely wants to see eye to eye with you."

"We do," Kara said immediately, but it was his disbelieving look, and that perfect tilt in his head that Kara knew too well that gave her away. "We do now. Kind of."

Though the classic Winn-head tilt didn't exactly straighten all the way, his eyes did soften. "I'd like to put more faith in my judgement that he's a good person."

"You're training him… to potentially be a superhero."

"I'm also – cautiously – optimistic," Winn admitted. He gave a smile. "Thanks Kara. I also know you're trying."

Apparently not enough, Kara thought. "Well, since you've called me here anyways, I'm gonna go check if our not-superhero-acquaintance isn't using my punching bag, which you are, by the way, not sanctioned to lend out, or whatever." And Kara ignored Winn's exaggerated gasp of indignation.

She had just made it down the stairs before a hand snatched her back into a hallway and another covered her mouth. Kara froze up instinctively and considered biting down, but she instead twisted her grip up and ground down on the pressure points on the wrist – though not the same effect as she was hoping, it still caused whomever it was to let go promptly.

"Ow, that would've easily broken a human wrist – not very superhero-y of you," Mon El complained, who was shaking out his hand before turning to rub it instead. Kara rolled her eyes.

"Oh don't be silly, I knew it was you," she said, holding up the back of her hand to him to prove it. "Why are you sneaking around anyways?"

"Practicing to be stealthy, even to superhearing," was his too-easy and matter-of-fact response, without a single hint of any shame present in his voice.

"Right, because that's not part of superhero training," Kara said as she fought to keep her voice completely even.

"Oh no," Mon El said, again in an all-too-serious voice. "More of a life skill, you know."

Kara nodded along. "Well, I'm going to-"

"-Come with me?"

"What?" Kara shook her head. "No, use my punching bag. Winn called me here for-"

A spark of mischief lit in Mon El's grey eyes, which should've been Kara's first warning if she even bothered to let it register. "That planet, or moon, as it were – superhearing, jeez – yeah, I know. I want to see it."

Kara blinked incredulously. "The planet?"

"No, the D-Port." Mon El said matter-of-factily. "If it can connect to any planet… well, I'd like to take a look, at least. And before you try to scamper off, you're an accomplice now."

Kara, who was, in fact, about to try to scamper off, couldn't even get another word out before his hand once against clamped around her wrist – her Mark seared at the contact – before dragging her down the hallway. "What – how am I an accomplice – how do you know where you're going?"

"Winn showed me. He's incredibly proud of it, you see." They turned to an unmarked door.

"He just said you weren't creepy – remember? You probably heard it." Kara said under his breath as Mon El let go of her and clasped the door handle. "And it's probably locked—"

Mon El gave it a hard twist and, rather easily, the door swung open. Kara's words stuck in her throat, as Mon El spoke instead. "I was expecting to have to force it. And I'm not creeping. We are snooping."

"I'm not –" but before she could say another word, he once again grabbed her wrist – the Mark burned again – and she was, notably, yanked into the room. She couldn't help it; she was curious too, but it didn't stop the sense of dread she felt as they Mon El closed the door behind them. It was momentarily pitch black, save for the ominous few blue lights here and there that barely illuminated anything so much as bring attention to itself, before Mon El must have flipped a light switch, as she was suddenly looking at a larger, garage-like space, but with a notable machine in the middle.

"Woah."

Mon El whistled lowly behind her, though she heard his footsteps above all. "Yeah, I was impressed last time too." And before she knew what he was doing, Mon El sauntered closer to the machine.

"I don't think you should touch it," she said immediately – a knee jerk reaction.

"Relax, your Kryptonian is showing," Mon El teased – and to her surprise, Kara almost felt a good natured laugh slip past her judgement. Instead, she watched with lingering caution as the Daxamite sauntered up to the machine. "Winn showed me how to use it a bit. This button and –" a hologram suddenly sprouted in front of their eyes, not unlike the holograms from the Fortress of Solitude, though instead of a person, it was merely a floating sphere.

"That's Arvuna," Kara murmured, recalling what Winn had said about taking some samples from the planet in their previous conversation. As if in response to her words, the hologram hung lazily in front, beginning a lackidaisal spin.

"Right. I think there's a button to change the portal's trajectory." Mon El's voice was somewhat unfocused as the planet suddenly zoomed out, then zoomed out again – and now the hologram was of Dranen instead. Kara could almost count out the fourty three other speckles that were its other moons.

And then the planet zoomed out – and zoomed out once more. "I wouldn't if I were you," Kara said, but it was really just her voice. She was, if she were honest, a little transfixed with the swirling stars as Mon El zoomed out to the cluster.

"No," the Daxamite in question said, "I got this, …. I think. Honestly, why couldn't he install a Search by function?"

"Why, are you looking for something?" Kara asked, though her mind was invested in not getting too interested in what was happening before her eyes.

"Nothing in particular, just curious…." The hologram zoomed out again – this time, it was simply a swirling mass of twinkles and white dots, but nothing indiscernible.

"I think you should turn it off." For her own sake, Kara thought. Her fingers were itching to splay onto the interface, to mess around and look at the planet in ways she hadn't since her childhood. Memories of seeing the galaxy before her eyes, with Kryptonian technology only somewhat reflected in the Fortress of Solitude, were too tempting, too easy to give into. "Haven't we snooped enough?"

"Possibly, possibly not - Oh."

"Oh what?"

Mon El kept pressing the same button, but this time the interface wasn't changing. "I think I may have –"

"—You did not break it." It took two strides for her to reach the console; Kara pushed him aside.

"You can man this?" Mon El asked, surprised, as he regained his footing in a heartbeat. Kara spread her fingers out across the board – typical, arranged in a classic Human way, which was much less convenient than the Kryptonian spreads.

"Well why not? I know how to navigate the Fortress of Solitude." It definitely felt familiar, though, despite the foreign design of the keys and interface, so similar to a keyboard, yet still just as inefficient, she noted.

"I don't think that's the same thing."

"Are you doubting me?" Her fingers flew across the keys but – nothing. The same hazy swirls that was the galaxy continued to project on the screen, twinkles of light like little barbed taunts as she tried again and again.

"No," Mon El's voice said slowly, "but I can't put bets against a machine you're more unfamiliar with. And I can't tell if that was a joke or not. "

"Half of one." Kara lifted her fingers from the interface – but she refused to be defeated. "Winn is my best friend. My bets?" She pointed to the large, blue button. "That probably does something."

"Hm." Mon El followed her vision, before half a smirk came across his face. "Knowing Winn, it definitely does something. Knowing Winn again, seventy five to twenty five says it does something good or bad to us."

"Those odds are scary accurate."

"Well?"

Kara grimaced. "I feel like if we unplugged it, it'd just wound him more."

"Push it?"

"That'd be out of my character," Kara lamented.

"You're already an accomplice."

He's a good person. Try to get along with him.

"At least it's not a red one." Kara said, and then she, against all other judgements, pressed down with her right palm, watching as her Mark seemed to flare with her uncharacteristic choice.

And before she knew it, the blue light had enveloped her – enveloped him, too, in the brief quarter of a millisecond she had to register anything, before all her senses were violently ripped from her before she even had a chance to notice.

Instead, she felt like she was falling, flying, being thrown by the strongest foe, being forced into immobilization by nothing but her mind. It was simultaneously painful yet numbing at the same time, like every inch of her skin was bursting from every theoretical seam, yet the mere velocity of her travel was forcing her body to stay as one. She was a ball of sentience, but no sensation – try as she may to move a muscle, wiggle a finger or a toe, but she was unable to do so, not because her limbs didn't exist, but because so much was happening it was as if the signal she had sent from her brain to the appropriate limb merely dissipated, as if the discourse of whatever was happening to her had prematurely gotten rid of the substance on a sparkler that allowed it to function.

The ground finally stopped spiralling, and somehow, in a strange feeling that should've been whiplash but simultaneously wasn't, Kara's insides no longer felt the urge to spill uncontrollably from her body in any way possible.

"Woah," Was Mon El's voice somewhere beside her – shaky, yet somehow stronger than she'd expected.

Kara realized right away that two things were very clear:

One: there was no yellow sun.

Two, and Winn was right: it was unbearably cold.