Chapter 9: Human for a Day, Hero Always
The news hit National City like a gut punch: Supergirl, powerless. After a brutal fight, a freak energy surge had stripped Kara of her abilities, leaving her vulnerable, human. Adam watched the reports with a knot in his stomach. He knew this was coming, a classic hero trope, but seeing Kara, the embodiment of strength, so exposed, was jarring.
He found her at CatCo, looking utterly miserable. She was trying to type, but her fingers kept fumbling, her usual superhuman efficiency replaced by clumsy human movements.
"Rough day, huh?" Adam asked, leaning against her desk, a sympathetic smile on his face. "Lost your keys? Or just misplaced your ability to fly?"
Kara sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's… it's gone, Adam. My powers. I can't fly, I can't lift anything heavy, I can't even hear what Cat's yelling about from her office. I'm just… normal." Her voice was laced with a profound sense of loss, and a hint of fear.
Adam pulled up a chair. "Hey. Look at me. Perfectly normal. And I manage to get by. Most days." He paused, then his voice grew serious. "Kara. You're still Supergirl, even without the flight. Seriously. Your powers don't make you who you are. Your heart does. Your courage. Your willingness to help, even when it's terrifying. You're still the same person who saved that plane, who fought Vartox, who took on Reactron. Just, y'know, slower. And maybe don't try to stop a bus with your bare hands for a bit. Unless it's a very small bus. And you're feeling particularly feisty."
Kara looked at him, a flicker of hope in her eyes. His words, simple and direct, resonated with her. He wasn't pitying her, he was reminding her of her intrinsic worth. "He believes in me," she thought, "even when I can't believe in myself."
"But what if I can't help?" she whispered. "What if someone needs me, and I'm just… me?"
"Then 'just you' will figure it out," Adam said, his voice firm. "Because 'just you' is pretty damn impressive. And besides, you've got a whole team now. And a sarcastic administrative assistant who's surprisingly good at getting into trouble."
As if on cue, the building's alarm blared. A prison break. Adam's meta-knowledge screamed at him: Fort Rozz escapees. Dangerous. And Kara is powerless.
"Great," Adam muttered. "Looks like my 'just you' theory is about to get a real-world test. Come on, Kara. We need to get people out of here."
The office erupted into chaos. Employees screamed, scrambling for the exits. Adam, despite his own lack of inherent superpowers, immediately took charge, ushering people towards the emergency stairwells. "Alright, everyone, calm down! Single file! No pushing! Let's move!"
He spotted a group of civilians, frozen in terror, as a hulking, enraged inmate, one of the escapees, charged towards them, his eyes wild with a primal fury. The inmate was massive, pure muscle, clearly intent on doing some serious damage.
"Oh, for crying out loud, I just got used to not dying," Adam thought, but his body was already moving.
[ADAPT SYSTEM: Host in danger. Threat: Human combatant (physical strength). Adaptation: Doubled physical strength and agility.]
He intercepted the inmate, not with a punch, but with a surprisingly powerful shove. The inmate, caught off guard by the unexpected force, stumbled backward, his eyes widening in confusion. Adam, moving with a sudden, almost blurry agility, quickly sidestepped the inmate's wild, retaliatory swing.
"Seriously, dude? Not cool," Adam quipped, his voice calm despite the adrenaline coursing through him. The inmate, still reeling, stared at him, baffled by how this seemingly ordinary man had just effortlessly pushed him.
Supergirl, watching from a distance, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe, saw the impossible. Adam, a human, had just stopped a super-strong alien inmate. She saw the subtle shift in his posture, the impossible speed, the way the inmate recoiled. He really does have powers. And he used them to protect someone. Just like he said.
Adam continued to usher the civilians to safety, his temporary strength and agility fading as the immediate threat passed. He felt a faint hum, a lingering echo of the system's activation, but otherwise, he was just Adam again.
Later, after the D.E.O. had contained the situation and Kara's powers had miraculously returned (a relief Adam had been anticipating with bated breath, thanks to his meta-knowledge), she found him in the quiet of the CatCo breakroom.
"You saved those people," Kara said, her voice soft, filled with admiration. "You pushed that inmate. I saw it. You were… amazing."
Adam shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. "Just doing my part. Someone had to. And besides, I've always been a big believer in 'fight or flight.' And in that moment, flight wasn't an option for them. So, I fought. Or, you know, pushed really hard." He offered her a wry smile. "See? You don't need to fly to be a hero, Kara. Just a good heart. And maybe a very reactive, very dramatic, temporary superpower."
Kara laughed, a genuine, warm sound. She sat beside him, a comfortable silence settling between them. She had seen his unwavering support when she was vulnerable, had seen him step into danger without hesitation, even without his full abilities. This deepened her feelings for him, solidifying the growing connection between them. He saw her, truly saw her, beyond the cape and the powers. And he saw her true strength of character.
"He's my rock," she thought, a warmth spreading through her chest. "My human rock. And he's got his own secrets, his own way of being a hero. And he chose to share it with me."
Adam, for his part, felt the shift in their dynamic. The romantic tension was undeniable now, a quiet hum between them. He had seen Kara at her most vulnerable, and she had seen him at his most… well, temporarily powerful. It was a shared experience, a bond forged in the fires of a prison break.
He later left a small, neatly folded piece of paper on Kara's desk. It was titled "Supergirl's Guide to Being Human." Underneath, he'd written: "Master the art of waiting in line without flying over everyone. Learn to appreciate the simple joy of a good sandwich. Embrace the existential dread of rush hour traffic. And remember, sometimes, the greatest superpower is just showing up." He knew she'd appreciate the humor, and the underlying message.