There were times it was easy to be a superhero.
When it was obvious to her who the bad guy was and what needed to be done to stop him.
When it was obvious to her who the innocent victim was and what needed to be done to save him.
And when it was so utterly obvious that even everybody else in the general public could figure it out, too.
You always came out looking good those times. Like a superhero was supposed to.
But most of the time it didn't happen that way.
Good and evil weren't always easy to tell apart. In fact, ironically, she'd learned from rather bitter repeated experience that they were usually hard to.
She didn't know why.
It didn't seem right somehow.
But it was still true.
She didn't know if it was something wrong in her.
If she just wasn't being as careful as she should be to figure things out or if she wasn't actually as good a person as she thought she was. Maybe her temper was making her miss something obvious. Or her impatience. What if it was her grief dulling her heart?
She didn't know if it was something wrong with everybody else.
Society. Humanity. Their moral eyes so long adjusted now to the ever present and ever constant grey dimness of corruption that they no longer noticed they weren't actually seeing light any more. Until it actually pained them when they did. Made them naturally recoil and seek the comfortable darkening haze once more.
Maybe it was something else entirely.
She didn't know.
She only knew that it made the job harder.
That sometimes she had to force herself to put on her cape.
Not because she didn't still believe.
No, she still had that.
She knew that there truly were things worth fighting for. That there really were people worth saving. Knew it with all her soul. Even now, when she couldn't always tell which was good and which was evil.
Maybe especially now that she couldn't.
And she knew she'd take to the sky for these forever if she could.
No, what made her steps slow and heavy up the hidden stairwell access to the roof sometimes was the weary grim knowledge that no matter what she did, no matter how many lives she saved, no matter how many criminals and villains she stopped, no matter how much time she bought humanity to maybe get its act together, it was never actually enough.
Apparently, having special powers and a worthy cause didn't protect your heart from despair.
Or fear.
It was those times that Power Girl found it was hard to be a superhero.
But they never stopped her.
And somehow that gave her just enough hope that maybe one day everything she did would become enough.