It hadn't been easy to convince Eliza to let her go on the senior trip, but Kara is glad she'd persisted. She'll 18 and will be graduating in a few weeks after all, and even if she still isn't quite comfortable outside the safety of her home, she needs to get used to being on her own before heading off to college. Once she decides on where she's going, anyway. Kara still doesn't know what she wants to do with her life, has spent the last five years learning to fit in, to act like an average human rather than an alien from a culture wildly different to anything on Earth. She hasn't exactly had time to think out an entire life plan.

But that's a goal for another day, today is about enjoying herself with the classmates that have gradually accepted her presence, even if they haven't welcomed her with open arms. She'll take what she can get, a few quiet friendships far more comfortable than being in the spotlight anyway. And with so much going on, that peace and lack of attention is in plentiful supply as her classmates walk along the beach or the cliffs, mindful of the chaperones that seem mostly content to let them be as long as they're safe.

Kara is walking along the beach alone, staring out into the ocean as she compares it's vastness to the emptiness of space, to the few memories she has of hurtling across the galaxy to land here. It's comforting in a way she doesn't think she could ever explain to another person, can't even truly explain to herself. She just knows that wide open areas will always be her favorite, and the endless nature of the ocean draws her the way nothing else can.

Leaving the group, completely unnoticed by the chaperones more concerned with a group of football players who have gone suspiciously quiet near the docks, Kara walks further down the coast, past the edge of the beach to where the cliffs begin, walking across the rocks with only the barest help from her power of flight. She doesn't want to be obvious about it on the chance that someone is watching her, but the spray from the waves makes the rocks slippery, and by hovering a bare fraction of an inch above the ground she can avoid falling. Not that a fall would hurt her, but with the jagged edges that surround her it would be difficult to explain a lack of bruising or scrapes. Kara is a master of staying away from unwelcome attention, has learned the lessons well over the past years. She can't really use her powers, but she's found a million small uses that help her blend in rather than stand out.

It's even quieter away from the beach, hearing carefully filtered to mostly human levels and even a little below to keep the crash of the waves from overwhelming her. Kara still keeps an ear tuned for the chaperones yelling to end the outing, but she can be back in seconds with no one the wiser as soon as she hears them. If she moves fast enough and stays right against the cliff edges, no one can possibly see her. It's a small risk, but it's one that gives her a few minutes alone, so it's one she'll take.

She's halfway to where the coastline fades into ocean and sheer rock face when she hears the pebbles shifting above her, a few loose stones tumbling into the ocean ahead of her. Before she can look up to see if it's another student sneaking away from the group she hears a gasp and a scream, one that jolts her into action without a second thought, because no matter what exposing her identity might cause, Kara will never let a child come to harm in her presence.

She's airborne and catching the small boy before she can think of any other plan, carefully falling a few feet to slow his momentum gradually without turning her arms into the solid equivalent of the rocks beneath them. He's crying into her shoulder in a way that breaks Kara's heart, obviously terrified and completely unable to understand what's going on. And Kara knows that he is not threat to her identity, not old enough to remember her face, so she pulls him back just enough to make eye contact, softly humming in an attempt to calm him.

"Hey now little one, it's okay" she tries when the humming doesn't seem to work, pitching her voice the way she remembers Alex soothing her once her sister had warmed up to her presence. "I've got you, and it's going to be okay now. Isn't it pretty up here, looking out at the ocean?" It seems to help, if only slightly, and Kara knows he's unlikely to fully calm until he's back in the arms of his parents.

That's when the consequences of this unplanned rescue hit Kara, because this child might be too young to expose her, but parents are an entirely different story. They'll remember faces, will want answers and reassurances, will want to thank her for saving their son. And if anyone is around that isn't part of the family, they'll likely already be calling the police. And those calls could easily turn into calls to reporters and news stations, to calls that will expose her and her family before they can blink.

But Kara can't be selfish when she's holding a child who needs his mother, knows that no matter what Eliza has stressed about hiding she's made the right choice. She won't regret it no matter what happens, knows that she will always, always take whatever action is needed to keep a child safe. And when she still misses her mother with an ache that never seems to fade, she can't keep this boy from his own for a second longer than she has to. She'd already be at the top of the cliff if she didn't think it would scare him, or be too fast for his small and delicate frame. Slow and steady is best, and Kara inches her way up, focusing entirely on the boy in her arms rather than the parents she'll be facing in moments.

"Hey buddy, my name is Kara. Can you tell me your name?" she asks as they rise, still trying to distract him from his terror. But he just shakes his head before burrowing it into her shoulder again, and this time Kara lets him stay there, carefully tightening her arms around him to make him feel secure, leaning back into an angle so he's resting on her rather than dangling in her arms. And that seems to help, softening his cries a little more, freeing Kara to look up to the cliff edge to prepare herself for what's waiting.

Instead of the crowd she'd been fearing and half expecting there's only one panicked face looking down at her, and Kara relaxes the barest amount. One woman she should be able to convince, or at least manage to get away from before too many questions are asked. But when she lands awkwardly in front of the woman who seems only a few years older than she is, if far more put together save for the panic on her face, he won't let go of her.

"Little one, you're safe now. Don't you want to go to your mother?" she tries, unwilling to use any of her strength to pull him away, even though she's desperate to end this moment as quickly as possible. At least they're alone, with trees blocking any view from down the paths, sheltered in a secluded lookout that sticks out a bit from the rest of the cliff. Now that she's on solid ground and not catching a toddler in midair, she has a chance of getting out of this with her cover intact.

"He tends to cling when he's frightened, it will pass" the woman says in a shaky voice, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on his back. "Thank you, I can't even begin to say how frightened I was when I saw him go over the ledge." And Kara is trying very hard not to judge, not to add to the guilt the woman clearly feels, but who brings their child to a cliff and doesn't pay attention to them? "He was in his stroller" the woman says before Kara can let any comment slip, either seeing something in her face or simply replaying the last few minutes in her head and knowing what she must be thinking. "He's always been mesmerized by the ocean, I thought a walk up here would be good for us. I looked away for a minute when my phone rang, no more than that, and the next thing I know he's going over the edge."

"He's safe now" is all Kara can bring herself to say, unable to absolve the woman of her mistake but knowing that children are unpredictable at the best of times. "I caught him, and he's safe, and once he calms down you'll be holding him again."

"He was in his stroller" she whispers, shifting closer to her son with a pained look on her face. "He was belted in; he was supposed to be secure. Everything was tightened and fastened, and he was watching the ocean so peacefully. I didn't even notice that he'd gotten out."

And Kara can't look at the woman and her guilt anymore, feels like she's intruding even though she's holding the child in question. She understands blaming yourself for mistakes long past when it's helpful, and she knows the signs. But looking away from child and mother brings her gaze to the stroller in question, and sure enough the straps are fastened, hanging loosely but positioned to where they should have been snug around a small child. He shouldn't have been able to get loose, so either the woman is lying, or there's something more. And with the pain in the woman's voice, the level of guilt, Kara knows that she's telling the truth, probably not even realizing what she's saying. So with a quick movement to remove her glasses, she scans the stroller, quickly realizing what had happened.

"It's not your fault" Kara says reassuringly, sure of her words and hoping they stick. She might have been ready to judge before, but this is something that couldn't have been anticipated or prepared for. The fastening holding the bottom strap in place had come off, obviously due to a flaw in the design, and even the soft pulls of a small child had been enough to pull the strap free once it had. But hidden as the fastening was, there was no way the woman could have known unless it had come free for her rather than her son. She's a victim of bad timing, but not poor judgement or negligence. And with her son safe, Kara is comfortable reassuring her of that fact.

"But I looked away" comes the immediate response, the woman clearly unwilling to avoid the blame. "I looked at my phone instead of paying attention to my son, and Carter almost…" she can't finish the sentence, and Kara is drawn to save her, the same way she'd been drawn to save Carter, to save the mother and child in that car years ago.

"You looked away from a secure child, one who under any other circumstances would have been perfectly fine, but through sheer bad luck and shoddy products, managed to get free. That doesn't make it your fault." Kara is insistent in a way that she can't remember being before, somehow knowing that she needs to sound completely sure of herself in this moment. She may not be a hero like her cousin, but she knows that a hero is what this woman needs right now.

"Shoddy product?" the woman asks sharply, and Kara is glad that she caught that, giving her something else to focus on. But she knows that her word won't be enough and that there will be no separating mother and child, so rather than explain she leads both over to the stroller, pulling at the padding to show where the strap had come loose, knowing that it will be all the woman needs to understand what had happened.

Kara can see the moment she realizes, can see the set of anger in her shoulders and the tightness around her eyes, but she doesn't say anything about it, instead turning to look at the young woman holding her son with a determined expression. "How could you have seen that from all the way over there? How did you catch my son? Who are you?"

And oh, this is bad, this is exactly what Kara has been told time and time again to avoid. Details, and specifics, and a coherent adult that will remember exactly what happened. There will be no explaining this away as adrenaline addled memories, no easily accepted explanation because the truth is too unbelievable. Kara had carried her son over the edge of the cliff, had been seen holding him in midair. She can't pretend otherwise, and something about the woman's demeanor tells her that any attempt will be useless anyway.

"Can we just leave it at I saved him and it isn't your fault?" Kara tries anyway, forcing a smile and looking down at the child in her arms to avoid that piercing stare.

"Why don't you want to tell me who you are?" The determination has faded to simple puzzlement, and Kara risks a glance up to see if she can tell what the older woman is thinking. "You saved my son, you showed me the reason he was in danger in the first place, but you won't tell me your name?"

"I'm supposed to be hiding my abilities" Kara admits softly, uncomfortable admitting even that much. "So you know, telling you who I am and what I can do, kind of defeats the purpose of that."

"Look, I just want to be able to thank you properly. We can forget the abilities, but can I at least know who you are?" The determination is back, and Kara doesn't know what to do about that. She can hide from who she is, has gotten good at pretending to be human, and now that she can't pretend she doesn't know what to say, how to handle this.

"Are you going to tell anyone?" Kara asks instead of answering, looking back down as Carter shifts, his grip loosening slightly as he looks up at her. At least one of them is calming down. He's at least stopped crying, though his eyes are still a bit watery and his breathing is still the slightest bit shuddery.

"Well, it is what I do for a living" the woman says with a shrug, and suddenly Kara realizes who this is, knows how utterly screwed she is, because this is Cat Grant in front of her. This is the legendary reporter and media mogul, head of her own company that she'd launched at the age of 24 and after only four years is one of the top news networks in the nation, heading for in the world. The woman Kal-El looks up to despite her now being one of his biggest competitors, a personal rival of his girlfriend. Of all the people who could have seen Kara's abilities in action, she'd managed to reveal herself to the most determined reporter in the country.

"But I don't want everyone to know who I am" Kara says, looking up pleadingly because she knows she won't get out of answering now, but needing to make the woman understand. "I'm barely 18, I haven't even graduated high school, I just want to be normal. I've tried so hard to be normal. I don't want to be a hero." And that's a lie, because Kara does, Kara wants desperately to be useful and strong for those around her. Kara wants to be as great as her cousin, if not greater because she should have been there to protect him, should have been the one to teach him. She is the last daughter of Krypton, the only one left who remembers her world, and she wants every day to honor that burden and that gift. But it would be too dangerous, so much harder than just being normal. Than being human.

And she can see that her pleas hit, can tell that the woman is at least listening to what she'd said, at least considering her words. "I've learned that being normal is vastly overrated, that being extraordinary is a gift that few are given and even fewer accept. But if it's normalcy you want, then very well. You saved my son, I owe you more than I can ever repay. So, Supergirl, no I will not tell anyone. While there will be a scathing review of these strollers and their hazards published, there will be no mention of your involvement or existence. I give you my word."

The nickname catches Kara by surprise, but she really shouldn't be surprised that Cat Grant has noticed the similarities between her cousin's abilities and the ones Kara has shown her. Kal-El isn't the only hero on Earth, but he is the one everyone knows. When the world thinks hero, it thinks Superman.

"My name is Kara" she offers softly, looking down at Carter to make it easier, a long habit of silence and hiding hard to overcome despite trusting the other woman. She isn't sure what else to say, what questions she's willing to answer, but she can at least give Cat that much.

"I'm very glad you were around for me to meet, Kara" Cat says just as softly, the thanks in her voice as clear as the ones she had offered outright. "I'm very glad that you chose today to go walking along the beach."

Kara debates mentioning the face it was a coincidence she happened to be here today, not a conscious decision, but it's too likely that her words would only cause the other woman to dwell on what might have happened, rather than the fact that everything is fine. "I am too" she says instead, rationalizing to herself that she had decided to take a walk today so it isn't really a lie. And there isn't much else she can say without giving secrets away or rambling awkwardly, so it's safer to just stay silent and focus on the slowly relaxing child in her arms.

"Carter, darling, are you feeling any calmer?" Cat asks softly when he loosens his grip on Kara's shirt.

"No, Mama" he whines, tightening his grip when he realizes he'd let go, snuggling closer into Kara's side in a way that makes her heart ache. She's never really been around small children, Kal-El had been much younger when they'd been sent to Earth, and she had missed these years of his life.

"Carter, I think your Mama wants to hold you and give you some really big hugs" Kara tries, shifting him slightly to see if he's willing to move, not surprised when he grips tighter and whines as she does. "Okay buddy, no moving, got it. I've got you" she whispers into his hair, completely focused on making sure he feels safe and content. She'll have to get back to the group eventually, but right now all that matters is helping the little boy in her arms.

Kara does step closer to Cat's side, angling to keep Carter between them, stepping closer than she otherwise would. She knows that even if Carter isn't willing to let go of the safety he's clinging to he still needs the comfort of his mother's touch, and maybe holding him between them will help with that. A quick glance for permission before closing the rest of the distance is all Kara needs to set aside her discomfort with the near embrace, but she can't help feeling it's strangely intimate for two complete strangers to be standing so close with a child between them.

To distract herself from that feeling Kara starts talking, softly telling Carter all about a planet far away, knowing that Cat can hear her but finding she doesn't care. She's trusted the woman with her identity; stories about her home are no more dangerous than that. Kara somehow knows that nothing she says will go beyond the three of them, and that makes her feel free in a way that nothing other than flying has ever managed. For once she is free to speak about her home, about what she's lost, without the pressure of guilt or expectations that come from her foster family.

Sometime in the middle of Kara's retelling of her first trip to a planet other than her own Carter falls asleep against her, limbs gradually relaxing as he falls deeper into slumber. When she notices Kara stops talking, only to be met by an honest to god pout from the boy's mother. "Are you really going to leave the story there?" she asks, disappointment clear in her eyes. "You have a wonderful way of making the words come to life, I can almost see the worlds you've described. Have you thought about going into a writing field?"

"I um, I haven't really thought about what to do after high school" Kara admits, feeling slightly ashamed to reveal that fact to the wildly successful woman in front of her, the woman who had built a company of her own before she hit 25. It feels like failing, and Kara hates that more than anything.

"You should think about going into writing" Cat says seriously, stepping back just far enough to shift Carter into her arms. "And if you go into anything journalism related, my company will find a place for you, assuming you earn it with your studies."

"I don't know, it's too late for most scholarship deadlines and the good journalism schools are too expensive" Kara says softly, because for once she has a goal in front of her, but it's too much to handle all at once. And it's a valid point, because Kara hadn't even tried applying to any of the really good schools, reluctant to put a strain on Eliza even if she knows her foster mother would sacrifice anything to give her the opportunity. It's the reason she can't ask, and the state colleges she'd been accepted to are perfectly adequate.

"Write down your contact information, and a letter will arrive within the week, no matter where you go to college or what you major in, it will be covered" Cat says with an attempt at nonchalance, clearly trying to keep it from being a big deal. And maybe to someone with her resources it is, but to someone like Kara, this is so much more than a big deal. This is acceptance, and thanks, and a gesture that says she is worth something. And it doesn't come from a family that she's cost so much in such a short time, but from a complete stranger who can only judge based on what she's seen, with no preconceived notions to influence her conclusions.

"I can't, I mean, thank you" Kara stutters out, pulling out the little notebook she uses for quick sketches from her back pocket and quickly jotting down her full name and address. Eliza will probably kill her, but Kara is an adult, and she trusts this woman.

"You saved my son" is all Cat says in response, but there's so much more to it than that, so much that Kara can't read . And she wants to stay and try, wants to figure out what the hell is going on here and why she feels so comfortable with a woman she's only just met, but before she can think beyond that she hears the chaperones starting to call for their students to assemble, and she knows she has to get back.

"I have to get back now" Kara says regretfully, because she's an adult but she's also on a school trip, and she'll be in enough trouble with Eliza without adding the complications that will come from drawing attention from her classmates. "I'm on a school trip, and they're calling for us to pack up" she explains when she sees the questioning glance.

"I see. Well, Kara, I will expect the rest of your story if and when you interview for a position at CatCo. Until then, for discretion's sake I feel it best that we avoid contact beyond keeping track of your schooling and expenses. I give you my word I won't reveal anything you've told me today, but it's best that we not give anyone reasons to dig into your life." Cat sounds certain of that, and as much as Kara wishes she could get to know the woman a little better, she knows that certainty is well placed.

And with the jumble of thoughts Kara is feeling in response to the rescue and long minutes of strangely emotionally intimate closeness, there are probably a few reasons beyond the obvious that this is a good idea. "Thank you" Kara says before darting off, wanting to say more but afraid, grateful for the excuse the school outing provides.

"No, thank you, Supergirl" she hears from behind her when she's halfway back to the beach, and it brings a smile to her face that she knows won't fade any time soon. Maybe there's a case to be made for journalism after all.