You know what i own: everything goes to their owners, and I own what I make up. Deal with it. This is going to be a short, random fic. It would be awesome if I could get feedback on this. Happy Independence Day/4th of July/whatever you like to call America's holiday. I'm gonna skip the fireworks, believe it or not, tomorrow, in favor of watching a disco of House from netflix and How I Met Your Mother on netflix instant download :) and brownies with my ma. Well, whatever. Cheers, yeah?


Zod has his hand on Faora's shoulder. He's grieving, just like she is. But while she is devastated from the loss of her home, the loss of her own kind, she knows that the general, who is somehow still standing, has it worse than she does.

She has no one but her squad in her life. That's always how it's been. She's never had anyone outside the Kryptonian military, but her heart is still aching like someone has forced a stake into her heart. Everyone in that room is shattered, but she knows that none of them has it as bad as General Zod does.

Faora glances up at him, through lashes dampened by her tears, and she can tell that he's hiding something behind his expression. He's as devastated as they are, maybe a bit more about Krypton's end, because all he ever wanted what was best for his planet, for his home, for his people - that's all he ever wanted, it's what he wants most, but she knows - she knows - that he's worse off than any of them.

Zod's jaw is clenched. If Faora hadn't been a Kryptonian, her shoulder would have been crushed by his grip. That alone told her he was suffering - screaming on the inside, probably - because he lost something.

Lost someone.

Faora remembers what Jor-El said to him, when Zod told him of his plans, that he would honor the man he once was. He would never, ever be that man again, because Zod, in her opinion, had lost a part of him, and since that part was dead, there was no point in honoring any version of that man by not doing what he thought best.

Zod's not showing that he's upset, but no one says anything. They know that if they do, his carefully put-together, indifferent expression will shatter, and he might lose his head. And they don't want that. They need him to stay calm, to hang on to that shred of common sense that he has left.

They will not bring her up.

At least, they won't.

Faora, on the other hand - well, she'll bring it up.

Eventually.

Because she knew this someone, she knows Zod - she's probably one of the only ones who knows that he's able to be a nice Kryptonian every once in a while. Hell, she probably is the one person who knows that he was actually capable of loving another living thing.

But she's not going to think about this now.

She has to mourn the loss of her home.

And Zod has to grieve the painful, excruciating loss of the one thing he would actually give up his planet for, no matter what he or anyone says.

That one thing is gone now.

And he has nothing.

There is nothing to stop him from doing the best for his people.

Faora knows this.

But the thought is starting to scare her.