Chapter One
When Karen's eyes open she screams; arms are wrapping around her, a mouth at her neck, why did you do it little bird, now the punishment, and she has to escape. She jerks away from the stifling arms and finds the surface underneath her giving way-
"No!" she howls, thrashing. "No!"
"Karen?"
Karen stills slightly in her frenzied paroxysms and searches in the dark for the familiar voice. She can see a familiar figure silhouetted in the soft light coming from the kitchen, broad shoulders and thick muscular arms- it's Superboy. Why isn't Superboy saving her from the arms and the mouth?
Karen suddenly feels clarity wash over her consciousness, and she looks down at her surroundings. A micro-plush blanket is wrapped around her lower body and she's half-laying on the floor directly below the couch. Couch: she was sleeping on the couch. It was a nightmare.
"Oh god," Karen half moans as she shifts to sit up on the floor. Her knees rise under the blanket and she rests her elbows against them, burying her head in her hands. The contents of the dream are fading but she still feels the horrible dread, like a vise squeezing her ribcage.
"Karen?" Superboy asks again, sounding vastly uncomfortable. "Are you okay?"
Karen rubs at her face, struggling to get a grip. When she finally looks up her voice is more composed. "Sorry. Nightmare. I'm fine."
Usually this monosyllable communication is enough to satisfy him, but he takes another step towards the couch. She can see the buckling of his brow, but the shadows make it impossible to see if it's concern or just uncertainty at how to deal with the situation.
"Are you sure? I…I could call Black Canary…?"
"No." Karen says shortly. "It was just a nightmare. I'm fine"
He stands unmoving for another moment, as if he knows she's bullshitting him, but Karen was already standing and kicking the blanket away from her legs. She let her wings unfold from where they'd been curled at her back, closing her eyes as she flexed her shoulder muscles and felt the tips of the wings flutter. They were translucent and green, almost like large skeleton leaves, and edged in a grey metal piping that extended to the base of the wings and laced through her spinal cord. She could feel Connor staring at her as she stretched. Karen had been here for almost a month, and he still couldn't help himself. They were two sides of the same genetically engineered coin.
She edges past him to move into the kitchen and dig through the fridge for a bottle of water. Runaway strands from her short brown curls catch at the corners of her mouth, and she reaches back with an impatient hand to push her hair away. She knows she must look ridiculous, dressed in grubby sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt with a hole cut in the back for her wings (which she usually keeps curled up between missions to avoid the stares) but it's at least three in the morning, and somehow she just can't bring herself to care.
now the punishment, now the punishment
Karen takes a swig of water to hide the shudder that's running through her body. She turns back to Superboy, clearing her throat.
"How come no one woke me when I fell asleep on the couch?" She asks. The words are supposed to sound authoritative, like one team mate questioning another on a failed mission, but she just sounds tired.
He shrugs, leaning against the wall. Karen notices that he's still wearing his Superman t-shirt and jeans rather than pajamas.
"What were you doing in the kitchen?"
He looks slightly insulted at the questioning. "I was making a sandwich and I heard you start screaming in the main room, so I went to see if you were okay. It's not like I was watching you sleep or anything."
Karen glances at the dining room table in the far corner of the kitchen, where the team eats their meals. There was indeed a half-eaten sandwich, sitting next to some indistinguishable copy of a book. Alright. So he had a reason, albeit a strange one, for being in the room next to her at some ungodly hour of the morning.
"I never said you were." she replies dully. Another scan of the room shows that her guess was right; the digital clock in the far corner of the room blinks 3:22 AM. She should gather up her water bottle and her micro-plush blanket and go to bed in her own room, but the thought of the empty elevator and dark hallways she would have to journey through to get there make the vise tighten again.
little bird, now the punishment
"You know, you should-" Superboy starts to say, then stops. He looks at a loss. "You should know that… there are people you can talk to. It's not like you're alone up here or anything."
Karen looks at him. He is honestly trying to reach to reach out to her, so why does it make her feel sick to her stomach? Why does she feel the need to flee?
She nods vaguely and takes another drink of water, looking out to the living room. The couch cushions are half on the floor, upset from her panic attack. "I think I'm going to watch some TV before I head to bed. You mind?"
"No." He sounds sharper than he did before, as if she's disappointed him. Karen wanders past him, and as she passes the tip of her right wing drags across his chest. She flinches violently, almost dropping her water bottle. For a moment she wonders if he's going to acknowledge what just happened.
Superboy says nothing. Karen clears her throat for the second time and keeps walking to the couch.
