As he stepped out onto the solid ground, the dark haired man noticed something was off. The air that filled his nostrils smelled different, and the ground below his feet felt softer. The wind that caressed his skin was cold and rough, and it sent shivers down his spine. He quickly came to the realization that whatever this place was, it wasn't his beloved Daxam. Suddenly he felt as If he were stabbed right in the chest, and the sharp pain made him lose his balance. He collapsed onto the ground, and instead of trying to stand up, he rolled onto his back and took a deep breath. As he lowered his sight to his chest he was expecting to see some kind of an injury that was cause this amount of pain, but there was no sign of blood on his T-shirt clad chest. Everything about him appeared normal, but the pain kept spreading and it was starting to rob him off his breath. Just as he was about to try and stand up, he started hearing whispers. At first it was just unclear mumbling, but soon they turned into words, and words turned into sentences. "You should have died with the rest of them!" They were saying. "You could have helped them, but you chose to save yourself!" The steady sentences grew louder and the voices seemed to be coming from everywhere around him. "You should have died Mon-El! You should have died! " -
The voice that was taunting him grew softer, with a hint of desperation underlying it. "Mon-El , wake up!" It was pleading with him. His eyes fluttered open, and for a fleeting moment he thought he was seeing an angel with a golden halo, but as his vision sharpened he realized the halo was nothing more than the locks of blonde hair that gleamed under the sunlight, and they belonged to none other than Kara Zor-El. Furthermore, he noticed her hand was pushing against his bare shoulder, gently nudging him awake. As nice as her warm hand felt against his skin, he quickly grew irritated and grumbled. "Stop that! I'm awake!"
He shook her off and pulled himself into a seating position. He rubbed his eyes then gave her a cold stare. "It's Saturday Kara! Can't you let me sleep for just one day?"
He was sure he saw a trace of a frown on her face, but it didn't stay there long. She quickly forced a smile and said in a determined, strict yet awfully optimistic tone. He would soon have to name it the "Kara tone", because she was the only person that ever used it in such a specific way. "Crime never sleeps, so neither can superheros, which you kind of are.." Mon-El knew she'd have something more to add to that , but what he didn't anticipate was the way her smile faltered and her head fell slightly as she tried to hide the pity in her eyes. "Besides, you were practically screaming and you wouldn't wake up, I thought you'd appreciate being snapped out of whatever that was.."
The Daxamite knew her intentions were good, but he never liked being pitied, he was far too proud, and in that moment he felt like Kara was invading his privacy. "I can survive a nightmare. Nobody asked you to rush in and save the day, Supergirl. I'm not one of your helpless little humans." The spiteful words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, and this time Kara didn't bother to hide her distaste.
"You know, here on Earth we have this little thing called gratitude. Look it up and call me when you learn the definition."
Kara didn't stay long enough for him to answer, she sped out of the room before he could even blink. He just sat there for a moment, staring at the door the girl didn't bother closing. He felt guilty. He knew she was only trying to help, but he had to be an ass anyway. As his mind was once again occupied by the images from that dream and the voices that obviously meant to hurt him, he became acutely aware of the fact that he wasn't mad at Kara at all. He was so frustrated by himself and so burdened by guilt that he couldn't hold it in anymore. He needed to lash out at someone, and she was just at the wrong place, and the wrong time. The voices in his dream were right though, he did choose to save himself. He was a coward, and for that he didn't deserve to live. He should have died with the rest of his people, at least then he would be at peace.
But what was done was done, and there was no going back now. The only thing he could do was use the second chance he was given to redeem himself, and making it up to Kara for being such a royal a-hole seemed like a good start.
He dressed as quickly as he could, and although he was starving he decided to hold off breakfast. Before anything else, he needed to find the only kryptonian he could ever actually stand being around. He didn't actually like Kara. She was pushy, annoyingly optimistic and self-righteous, which irritated the hell out of him, but she was willing to take him under her wing and help him adjust to life on Earth, for which he did owe her a major dept of gratitude.
He started towards the training room, in hopes of finding Kara there, when she flew right past him and out through an open window, not bothering to spare him a glance. A deep sigh emitted from his lips as he watched the red cape disappear before his eyes. He wasn't really surprised, he deserved it after all, but he had to admit that being downright ignored equally sucked on every planet.