It was after a long day superheroing that Supergirl found the box in the back of the Legion ship.

Just to be clear, she wasn't snooping. But after her now married ex-boyfriend had returned from his seven year trip to the future with a whole group of heroes supporting him– could you blame her for being curious?

She swept quietly past the reddish orange tubes with the still unknown Legion members in cryosleep, into the sleeping quarters. Unbidden, her throat constricted when she noticed that despite three people living there, only two beds were disturbed.

Kara bit her lip, and steadied herself against the doorway. But it wasn't enough. What were you hoping to find, anyway? She asked herself bitterly.

It was only when a drop of water hit her costumed thigh that she realized she was crying. Really crying, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, her chest tight, her heart heavy. Kara vulnerable in a way that she hated, that she despised. Kara drew long, shuddering breaths and placed her hands on her knees to steady herself.

"This is stupid," she proclaimed to no one in particular. "Crying over a boy... a stupid, stupid..." It was then she saw it, shoved under the bed and blanketed in shadow.

Her hand reached out tentatively, her curiosity getting the better of her. She pulled it out into the open and observed it cautiously.

It was cardboard, about the size of a shoebox, and had clearly seen better days. Dust had collected almost everywhere, though it was conspicuously absent near the top flap, a place Kara had yet to touch.

Her fingers hovered over the top. Should she open it? Of course not. It was an invasion of someone's privacy. This could be Imra or Brainy's only belongings from the future.

Or, a tiny voice spoke inside of her head. It could be Mon-el's...

And that was all Kara needed to rip the flaps open. Inside, dozens, hundreds, maybe thousands of papers seemed to burst from their enclosure. Kara jerked backwards and the papers spilled forth onto the floor.

Gingerly, she reached forward and picked up one piece. Turning it over, she let out a tiny breath of air as she read the first line.

Dear Kara,

The handwriting was unmistakable– it was Mon-el's.

As if holding a priceless artefact (and really, wasn't she?), Kara shifted herself against the bedpost, her cape pooling around her. She swallowed hard. Her eyes darted to the door to the living quarters and her ears pricked. No, no one was coming. She was safe to read this, whatever it was, for now.

But do I want to read it? Kara shook her head furiously, and dropped the paper. "No," she clenched her jaw and made to stand. "No, that's not mine."

But it is addressed to you, isn't it? The little voice spoke again. Kara groaned at this– Mon-el had clearly written this, and it was addressed to her– that meant she could read it, right?

Kara picked up the paper again and unfolded it. She took a deep breath and began to read.

Dear Kara,

My brain is fuzzy, like nothing I've ever experienced before. Even on Daxam, even with the drugs– Rao, my head is spinning.

I don't know where I am– I don't even know who I am. They, whoever pulled me from that pod, they said it might help for me to write down what I remember.

All I remember is you– your eyes like comets, shining– you're sad, I've never seen you this sad– why are you sad? What have I done this time?

Those eyes–

Kara had to stop at that point. Mon-el must have written this early in his time in the 31st century. Was he remembering her sending him away? Waving goodbye with that pained smile on her face? She realized she was crying again, the telltale tears leaking from her eyes. Like comets. Hands shaking, she turned her attention back to the letter.

Those eyes I might never see again.

It's coming back to me– my mother– damn my mother– I'm telling her I love you– she doesn't care– the Dakam-Or– Gods, how stupid I was to think she'd follow even the most sacred of ancient laws.

And then– suddenly I can't breathe. The lead–I'm kissing you, I'm kissing you– I can't–

The letter stopped there. Kara shook her head, not understanding. That can't be it. Her hands shaking, wet from wiping away tears, Kara turned over the papers one by one. The first lines floated past her vision– Dear Kara, Kara, To Kara– they're all letters, they're all to her, and they're all in Mon-el's spindly handwriting.

Her chest ached. Her heart ached. Why did this have to happen to her? To him? To them?

Hugging her knees to her chest, Kara picked up another letter from the box. Her arms felt weak.

Kara,

It's my eighth day here. Here, the 31st century. I don't know if this is real– maybe I'm dead, maybe I died, maybe I gone. Imra and Brainiac 5– they saved me– they say that I must've gone through some wormhole. To the future– I'm on earth, but there's a cure for the lead, I don't know– I just know I have to get back. I have to get home.

Please wait for me, Kara. I'm coming back home. I'm coming.

Love,

-Mon-el

Kara closed her eyes slowly. Love. How long did it take him to stop signing that way? How long until he married Imra and the letter stopped?

She should have stopped reading there. But she couldn't do it. She picked up another letter.

To Kara,

One year. It's been one year. I'm trying to come back. I'm trying to send you a message. Rao, I can only imagine how you feel. Everyday I wake up and for just a second I think... I think maybe we're back in your loft, and we're just waking up. Do you remember how uncomfortable your bed was? But you refused to replace it? You were so weird.

Kara let out a mirthless laugh. She liked her beds hard, it was true. The firmer the mattress, the better. But Mon-el had always hated that. He wanted soft. He wanted pillowtop. She discarded this letter and moved on to the next one. It was darker than the previous two.

I miss you. Gods, I miss you. It's like someone is tearing my heart out. But I'm never going to die– I'll just bleed, forever. I can't help but wonder – have you moved on? Did you find some perfect, handsome alien who could give you everything I couldn't?

Kara nearly choked when she read this one. No, Mon-el. That was you. She threw this letter to the ground and then selected another. Some part of her brain screamed to her. Why are you doing this? But it was like a drug. She couldn't stop.

Dear Kara,

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I had to do it– maybe one day you'll understand.

But who am I kidding? I'm never going to see you again. '

I just... always imagined my wedding day to be to you– to be to the woman I love. Instead of just to unite the planets.

I know I did the right thing– but why does it hurt so damn much?

I still love you. I know it's wrong. I know– I'm married now. I have to stop writing. It's not fair to Imra. Even if it isn't one of love, I can't–

Not a marriage of love? Kara frowned. What did he mean by unite the planets? Confused, Kara sifted through more letters. And then she found it.

Kara,

You have to understand. Titan hates us. I mean Earth. So what would you do? I don't know... no, I do know. You would take one for the team. You would marry the daughter of the biggest family on Titan. You would marry Imra and bring everyone together. It would help so many people. You're right, Kara.

You're always right. My heart doesn't matter here. I'm never– I'm never going to see you again. It doesn't matter how much I love you, Kara Zor-el... I'm here, and you're dead.

Kara crumpled the letter in her palms. An arranged marriage? A fake relationship? But... her mind flashed to the way Mon-el had kissed Imra that crisp fall morning just a few weeks ago. However fake it had been then, it was painfully real now.

Kara threw the letter across the room. This was only making her worse. But these letters... they were the only connection she had to Mon-el now. She had to keep reading.

Kara,

No. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to wake up in the 31st century. Not here. Not with you...

All the times I imagined seeing you again, it was never like this. And seven months?

This is all wrong. I can't be here. I have to get back home.

Home. That word killed Kara. Yes, it had been seven years. But the fact that he considered his home in the future, with Imra, when Kara's only real home was with him– she was crying again.

"Kara? What the–"

A million curse words ran through her head and she stood quickly. "Mon– Mon-el!" She stuttered, swaying as the tears blurred her vision. "I was just–"

And then they made eye contact. His storm-grey eyes met her blue ones and they seemed to bore into her soul.

"Kara..." he whispered, his voice breaking.

"Please–" she said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek, before it was quickly replaced by two more. "Please don't. You–" she tore herself away from his gaze. "You were right. You had to keep living. So should I."

"Kara–"

"Goodbye, Mon-el. I hope you find your way home soon."

And with a sweeping of that cape, she was gone.