The days Kara didn't spend worshipping the toilet were occupied by various unsuccessful attempts at staying awake. The 9-week mark was just around the corner, she would tell herself. She'd be okay if she could make it to then. The sleep issue, she knew, would not be abated so easily. Most nights she had horrific nightmares, memories flooding her mind at odd intervals. Kara had kept quiet about her memory loss, not wanting to cause anyone undo stress. Lena was much more perceptive than most people gave her credit for, she was a Luthor after all. Well, half a Luthor but still. One particularly trying day ended with Kara bawling in her lap. Lena figured it was due to exhaustion, her body using the "oh if I cry I'll tire her out" approach and Lena let Kara do whatever she needed to do. She thought of bringing up last night's kiss but then forced that idea down; it would be most inappropriate to make Kara even more anxious about anything at the moment. The brunette stroked the blonde's hair lightly in an attempt to soothe her in some capacity.
"It was… so… horrible, Lena…"
"What was it, Kara? What was horrible?"
"Everything! They took me… I was gone- five weeks…"
The memory loss must've been more extensive than anyone realized, Lena made a mental note to tell Alex this as soon as possible. Kara was gone a lot longer than five weeks. In fact, she had been missing for the entire summer and most of August. No one knew Kara Danvers in National City, though, so Supergirl's identity was not in danger of being compromised. Alex had taken up an intriguing new identity, and Lena made another mental note to tell Alex that she needed to tell Kara. The CEO never realized how anyone could like bats but it worked for Alex and that was enough for Lena.
"Do you wanna talk about it, babe?" Lena offered. Not pushy, just friendly support and curiosity. Kara had fallen asleep in her lap, making the offer a bit ineffective. Lena considered moving for a split second, but upon noticing Kara's angelic form could not bear to do so. How could someone wake something so stunning from much-needed rest?
Truth be told, Lena was terrified for Kara. What did all of this mean? Would she ever be able to be Supergirl again, at least in the foreseeable future? Would Clark temporarily abandon his alter ego to help out? No one ever asked men these questions. What the fuck, bro? Besides, Kara's a Kryptonian and therefore not beholden to human gender roles or standards. She could figure out how to keep all of this under wraps later. She was a Luthor, strategy was in her very blood.
An hour later Kara awoke, yawning like a sleepy kitten. Still too groggy to form words, she simply nodded in apology. Lena smiled back, as if to say 'no problem'. Kara got up and dragged herself to the kitchen. She hadn't ever really had the opportunity before now to really appreciate the quiet Lena's cabin in the woods offered her, and her of all people could appreciate some much-needed peace and quiet. The wood was smooth, a fine strong oak. Adorning the walls were paintings of every season and the various activities in which one could partake therein: ice fishing, sunbathing, tennis, yoga, it was all so cute! The reporter had only been there for a little over a month and she already couldn't imagine staying anywhere else. She was alone, metaphorically. Sure, she had Lena and the little baby growing inside her, but… she had Lena. That singular woman's mere existence was suddenly incredibly important to her. Not that it wasn't before, but now Lena meant the world to her. More than ever, Kara just wanted to be with Lena in whatever form or fashion that manifested. The suddenness of the feeling sort of scared Kara, what if she said no? What if the kiss was a fluke or whatever? Every single time she put herself out there, the other party's answer was always the same: You're great, but…
Rao forbid she be happy for once. Opening the cabinet above the stove, she grabbed a cup and filled it with tap water before marching over to Lena.
"Lena. I have a few things I need to tell you. About the abduction, about what happened."
Lena sat up straight and readjusted on the couch so that her entire body was angled toward Kara. Her eyes became much more alert and simultaneously sympathetic. "Whatever happened, Kara, you can tell me," she took one of Kara's hands in both of hers for emphasis on the whole 'you're safe with me' thing.
Visibly relaxing at Lena's touch, Kara took a deep breath and started in on the very long story she couldn't keep inside any longer.
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Lor was completely bald. That was the first thing he and Kara joked about when they saw each other for the first time in decades. Looking at himself in the mirror of his quarters, he chuckled at his reflection. One might say he resembled Lex Luthor if not for Lor's more angular jaw line and piercing grey eyes. But today was not a day for remembering, not for him. He had uncovered his father's journal; the entries dating all the way back to 1979 and almost every single day since was accounted for. Skimming through, he had unintentionally stumbled upon the passages pertaining to Kara's "stay" at the facility. Zod characterized her as a willing participant in the trials. The Last Daughter of Krypton had been anything but, according to her fear and disorientation the day she left. What could his father be keeping from his only son? This was why Lor presently marched toward his father's office.
General Zod was had become accustomed to many things over the years. Having his journal thrown violently through- not just on, but through!- his desk as if the desk were paper was not one of them.
"Lor?!" He sprang to his feet. "What is the meaning of this? I am meditating!"
"Meditating on what, hmm? How you're going to screw over the humans? How you're going to continue this experiment whether the human women involved are willing or not?!"
"Son, I do understand what you are implying-"
"Do not lie to me! Did you kidnap Kara? Did you order your mad scientist Jax-Ur to kidnap Kara and bring her here?"
Zod stood straight, eyes boring into Lor's. That was all the confirmation that Lor required and he sucker punched his father. If Zod were human, the blow would have broken his neck twice over. Most likely make it spin three-hundred-and-sixty degrees as though he were a cartoon character, on top of that. The general scoffed but did not retaliate.
"How could you do that? I understand continuing the species, but… father! It has dawned on me the magnitude of your savagery. You would take her from her home and force her to run tests to see if she was a suitable mother for- not even a mother, a glorified incubator! Why? Because you knew I loved her in my youth?"
"Because she is ideal and now she carries the continuation of our bloodline. Son, she is vital."
"How could you even coerce her into undergoing the procedure in the first place?"
"Jax-Ur devised some sort of chemical concoction, an elixir if you will, to induce passivity and suggestibility in the subject. As far as Kara Zor-El knew, she was here because she wanted to be. She came willingly to us," he quoted his own obviously biased journal entry.
Lor's eyes blazed with rage at his father's assertion. "She did not! Look at these discrepancies! I take it you have done the same to the women here? They are in their mid-to-late twenties at the eldest, barely more than children! Most of them are still actively involved in some form of scholastic opportunities!"
If Lor's words had any effect on Dru-Zod, general of the Kryptonian army, he did not demonstrate it whatsoever.
"It is atrocious and immoral and I shall not stand for it! If the humans wish to procreate with us, then let them come of their own free will, allow them to consent."
"Do breeding stock consent to their existence, or try to run from it or otherwise deny it? Do they, son? No, they perform their purpose."
"Breeding stock are generally disposed of when their usefulness has run its course."
"Indeed, Lor."
Lor-Zod could not find a word to describe his father's behavior. Left with the only response available to his rapidly spinning head, he spat in Zod's face and departed the office.
Smirking, Zod wiped his face clean with his hand and turned to look out the window at the vast number of cubicles before him. Inside each of these cubicles was a woman. Each woman was supplied with their own individual bed, their own reading material, their own charging outlet for their mobile cellular devices if they so requested (though the network was closely monitored by their caretakers to ensure no leaks occurred), and a rudimentary bathroom area that was sectioned off from the main living space. It was like having a miniature hotel room with no windows. That was how one "guest" put it, and Zod found the description apt.
"They are not our equals," came an gravelly voice from behind him. Zod turned to see Jax-Ur, his regimen's physician, enter his office.
"You cannot blame me for wanting to make them comfortable, Ur."
"No, Zod, and I would not dream of accusing you of favoring them, but your treatment of our lab rats does concern me. If the species is to survive, we must proceed with our experiments. Trial and error is how science advances, not coddling."
"Are they sentient, Jax-Ur?"
"General?"
"Are they sentient? Do they breathe, do they think, do they form even the basest of vocabularies, do they relieve themselves, do they feel pain, and cry out when they suffer? Do they lack any of those things? No? Then they are sentient. But you are correct: they are not our equals. They are inferior, like the damned Science Council, and they will be repurposed accordingly."
"And when it comes time to dispose of them?"
"Make it look… like one of those mass suicides that populated the tail end of the previous century. It will cause enough of a media sensation that no one will think to look for the source. A little dramatic, come to think of it, try to find a different avenue. In any case, you must ensure there are no loose ends that can be traced back to us. Is that clear, Ur?"
The scientist clicked his heels together and straightened.
"Sir!"
"Don't do that, it makes me uncomfortable."
Jax-Ur nodded in reply and left the general alone. Zod returned to gazing out at the masses. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of women had come to this place hoping to find "the nice aliens" and to help them. Their most impressive PR campaign had paid off, as even several men had turned up in the hopes of aiding the "weary travelers of a dying species". That was the problem with the youth of today, far too eager to aid those who may desire to do them harm. This, however barbaric in the eyes of those like Kal-El, was a fundamental necessity for the survival of the Kryptonian people. A concept that Kal-El could not grasp, but one his cousin could. A pity the drug wore off; he would have liked to get to know Kara Zor-El more intimately. "I think it is time I pay my newest guest a visit!"
Making his way down to the lowest level of the facility, Dru-Zod came upon his prize: a Kryptonian funeral casket. Touching it in the right place activated a sort of window, so that the loved ones of the occupant might see the face of the deceased for one final moment before they were sent off to bask in the light of Rao.
"Hello, there," he whispered to the corpse. "Let's see if we cannot wake you up."
Walking over to the old artifact at the opposite end of the room, he gazed proudly upon the machine. It was a regeneration matrix and the device could be used to resurrect a Kryptonian from death. Something that he would need for the future, as the occupant of the casket could be manipulated into becoming the perfect tool in a potential war with the Earth's military, and especially with the DEO now that all the Kryptonite had been taken by Kal-El at his request. Prior to adjourning for the evening, he crossed back over to the casket and kissed it.
"Have a pleasant evening, Astra."