A/N: (You are completely able to skip to the Epilogue if you wish) It's been three long years, and I thank each and every one of you who found the time and put in the effort to read my less-than-perfect story. Every like and review means a great deal to me, big or small. Over the last few years, I debated whether or not to write a second story, or fine tune this story, or branch off, or something else entirely.

Every time I reread my story, or even think about it, I recognize the cringy parts, the awkward wordings, the poor descriptions or details. It bothers me in the way that it's not the best it can be, but now's a good time to acknowledge some things I had in mind as I wrote the story, somethings I think were perhaps only visible to me.

I wrote the story from start to finish, chapter by chapter. I did not go back and change something for the sake of the plot or otherwise. The ending was just as surprising to me as it was to all of you, and I do sincerely hope you found it meaningful. Callum Orson was created to symbolize the good in everyone, yet the midnight-eyed, cold version of himself (which I refuse to give a name, as a name would solidify his identity) is the evil in each and every one of us. So, if you're asking, yes, I was portraying Callum or have Multiple Personality Disorder (otherwise known as Dissociative Identity Disorder).

As far as I can tell (I am unfortunately not as intune with DC comics as I would wish to be) Supergirl has never had a certain, strongly accepted or consistent significant other, which I found to be disheartening, as she is most commonly shown to be optimistic and good hearted and more deserving of a worthy companion than most. After I had created Callum in my mind, Kara was the only person I could see fitting well with Callum on a finely tuned level.

I'm sure the Deathstroke-is-Callum's-father reveal was not entirely agreed on by you readers. I understand, and I am aware of the out-of-character stasis this provides. However, seeing as how Callum's life was always meant to be pain and tragedy, in only makes sense in my mind that his father be someone that has lived under similar circumstances. No matter the continuity, Slade Wilson has always had a rough life, whether childhood, adulthood, or both, and begin able to see that he saw through his errors and managed to start a relatively short lived but well intentioned family has always brought a spark into my heart.

Also, I am aware that Potens and his family is contrary to the DC comics general continuity of God. As I briefly explained through Callum's mother, Callum does not exist in most universes due to the fact that his mother does not exist in more universes. Just the same, he can exist outside of Destiny's bloodline, but that does not mean it is common.

I am willing to answer questions as best I can if you have any, but for now, here is the Epilogue/Prologue for the sequel, set seven years after the events of this story.

Epilogue:

I woke up to Kara laying on my chest. She was quietly breathing as she slept, her back softly rising and falling. Her beautiful blonde hair was scattered around her, and I couldn't help but admire her while she slept. I glanced at the clock, 3:12 am, and sighed. I rubbed her back before gingerly rolling her over and getting up.

I made my way to the bathroom, closing the door before turning on the light. I didn't sleep much anymore, and the sleep I did get was riddled with nightmares. I washed my face with cold water, trying to wash the nightmares from my mind. As I looked up at myself in the mirror, I saw Chronos behind me, his evil and cold smile chilling my soul, and I instinctively made a knife appear in my hand and, in one swift movement, turned and threw it at his nemesis.

But just as I threw the knife, my mind corrected itself and instead of Chronos, it was Kara. Kara, startled but calm, easily caught the knife. I realized my mistake and slowly slumped to the floor, my emotions running away and leaving me numb.

"Cal?" Kara asked, worried. "Cal?" Her voice was a distant echo as I heard everything. Everything. Every drip, every scream, every rustle, every whisper, every ringing, every heartbeat, every noise in a broad spectrum of frequencies. To describe the overwhelming pressure, it puts on one's mind… Or the pain…

"Cal!" Kara called from somewhere. "Your ears are bleeding! What's wrong?" I was vaguely aware that I was wincing in pain, slumped against the sink.

As I came back to my senses, Kara had my head in her hands and was studying me intently.

"Callum Charles Orson," Kara said once she was sure that I had come back. "What happened this time?" I winced at the throbbing migraine but fought through it and kissed her beautiful lips.

"Stop," Kara said, frowning. "You can't get out of telling me by kissing me." Her tone was very aggravated, but it was out of worry and fear rather than actual anger. "What happened?" I gave up trying to avoid the situation.

"I saw Chronos," I told her honestly. Kara's face didn't change from its contorted and worried expression. "And then…" I didn't want to sound crazy, so it took me a few tries to say it. "And then I heard everything…"

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, feeling guilty for accidentally attacking her, the love of my life. Kara shook her head.

"Don't be sorry," Kara said. "I want to be able to help you…" She stared into my eyes with a deep sense of love. "In order to help you, I have to know what happened…" I smiled softly.

"I'm fine," I told her, but in truth I could still faintly hear the echoes of what I had heard.

Kara gently touched the blood coming from my ears and showed me. "This doesn't qualify as fine…" she said. I took her hand.

"It'll pass…" I told her, but I wasn't entirely confident in my statement. Kara frowned.

"Cal, this isn't the first time you thought I was someone here to attack you. I know you haven't been sleeping well since…" she paused, taking both my hands. "Since you died…" I let go of her hands and pulled her in for a tight hug.

"I love you, Kara," I said. Kara smiled.

"I love you too," she whispered. "I don't want to lose you again…" I held her tight.

"Even if I die," I told her. "I'll always come back…" Kara smiled, but her eyes were watery.

"You should see Bartholomew," Kara said, breaking the hug. I shook my head.

"I can't find him," I reminded her. "And Mason hasn't heard or seen him either…" Kara sighed.

"We could talk to your mother?" Kara suggested. I shook my head.

"I haven't heard from her for a while," I told her. "She and Potens and everyone else have all kinda removed themselves from all communication…" Kara grimaced and hugged me tighter.

"I love you, Callum," she said. I smiled, taking in her soothing strawberry scent.

"I love you too, Kara," I told her. It was true, I really did. I didn't want to hurt her though, and even though she was Kryptonian, one day my delusions might get the best of us both. She took me by the hand and led me back to bed, gingerly pulling me beside her. I laid down, and she pulled herself as close to me as she could. I wrapped my arms around her, making her smile as she closed her eyes.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Kara groaned as the alarm went off, quickly hitting the snooze. As she slowly withdrew her hand, my hand met hers, and she smiled, her eyes still closed, as she clutched my hand. She groaned again, this time louder, as she rolled over and opened her tired eyes.

"I don't want to go to work," Kara said. I chuckled, kissing her forehead before getting up.

"I don't want to go either," I told her, "but it's the choices we make now that determine the future." Kara sighed, in a cute, huffy way, and got up. I watched as she grabbed her towel off the back of the door, glancing back at me with a smile as she opened the door and went to the bathroom. As she left the room, suddenly everything seemed colder, and I shivered. I decided to get up and headed to our kitchen.

As of that moment, Kara and I were living in an apartment in the city, high enough up to hear any sirens but low enough to be down to earth. My father hadn't spoken to me much, or Amber, but he was very clear that his money was all ours. I accepted his offer for college, and a little for some rent money at first, but beyond that, I made the choice to get a job. Mason had received the same offer from my father, and he refused at first, but eventually he caved and spent a relatively medium sum on a house. He had been nervous that I or my father might be mad, but I simply envied his ability to accept the proposal. My father didn't care or complain, instead he urged Mason to spend more, recognizing him as family in our slow mending house.

I made breakfast as I thought, reminding myself of all the events of the past several years. Amber lived a few miles away, in a smaller apartment, and her therapy with a certified professional that had a clean background was going well. All those years she had lost to mind control had done a number on her psyche, and although J'onn had offered to aid the restoration of her mind, she said she'd prefer something more normal.

After I died and there was no pressing apocalypse, Amber finally had time to realize the impact of the years that she had lost. That, and a small episode when she had been presented with basic math and found herself unable to know the answer, had shaken her. It had taken a while for anyone to notice, she hid it well and whatever was left of my blood had seemed to hide the symptoms, but finally after five years, the effects began. Lately, she had been more outgoing than usual, brighter, happier.

After my blood had dissipated from her system, I offered her more, but she outright refused. Looking back on it, I didn't blame her. A fragile mental state versus the responsibility to protect the world. Having stood by my sister on the front lines of terrors such as Darkseid and Parallax, I knew firsthand the stress and pressure she had endured. I had made her armor as well, and Mason, but she never wore it. She couldn't explain why, but I understood. Once you put it on, you can't just take it off.

Although, since my death, I haven't been quite the same. I could just feel things changing, but I never knew what, I only knew that something was missing. My usual power was, well, diminished significantly. No longer could I give myself the strength of Superman, or the speed of the Flash, but I could come closer than most. It felt straining when I tried to reach their level, like standing on the edge of a cliff as a boulder attempts to push you off. On occasion, I felt a bit more whole again, but that feeling would become painful as it was seemingly ripped away.

Mason went to college with me and Kara. He didn't have to, but he 'wanted the experience with his best friend'. I understood where he was coming from, he missed the late nights and interesting chats over earpieces as criminals were caught. I told him that I would be more than willing to have him be my dispatcher, but he would only laugh and shake his head. I also offered to see if I could give him powers, but he was adamant that he didn't want anything like that. I was unsure of how to make up for the time passing, but all he seemed to want was to go back to the simpler times, not that I could blame him. Even now, there was no way to bring back the past in a way that would be the same.

Bartholomew said his goodbyes a year or two after my death. He told me he was going to wander the dimensions, searching and preparing for something. He was incredibly vague, but when I confronted him, he would just tell me that it wasn't my time to know. It was times like those that I wondered if he truly was nothing but The Mentor, or if the title was nothing but a guise for something else. What else, I had no earthly idea, but after the rules that he had taught me were so blatantly violated in the days leading up to my death, I was fairly certain that he was hiding something. Him and Potens both.

Speaking of Potens, I found myself unable to speak to him. I had promised to return, to die, after I helped Kara, but he was evasive, almost like he didn't want me to fulfill my promise. I understood in my own way, but in some way it hurt, an unspoken goodbye with the one being who could change anything. Bartholomew did reveal to me before he left that the devil I had faced had been dealt with, and I chose not to read into it.

My mother did speak to me on occasion, birthdays, big events, holidays, which my father also attended. They were inseparable when they were together, but it was always bittersweet. My father's hair was gradually growing from gray to white, and my mother noticed. She knew, deep down, that all these things she was feeling were going to be memories one day, and she never wanted that day to come. I never let on that I understood her future pain, but I made sure to take her mind off of it. I think she knew what I was doing, but it still worked. Sometimes I feel her, when she's not physically around, but we rarely speak. After all, what is there to talk about to someone who has the ability to know the day in and day out of your life? I think her knowing is her own version of being close to me, and I couldn't ask for anything more from someone who loves and cares for me but can't be close to me.

In some way, I feel as though Kara's been through the most the last several years. She's seen my stress, my faults, now even recognizes my hidden pain. She knows that there's nothing she can do to help sometimes, and it makes her feel terrible, which is the last thing I want to cause. But she always has a smile, even when she's sad about something. Her smile makes me smile, which in turn makes her smile, if it's forced, become genuine. She's seen Mason hurt with nostalgia. She's seen Amber's mental problems, and she's even noticed my mother's discreet pained expression whenever something terminal comes up. She's been through a lot on her own, dealing with Lex Luthor and Livewire and the like.

Speaking of Lex Luthor, after I had left, my father dealt a generously soft punishment to Lex, removing his arm and his nether regions, something that despite my upbringing, I can't help but think is more than fair to the creep who used my sister. Due to his aid from tactics to actual combat, the Justice League decided to subtly leave my father alone.

Kara decided she wanted to be a reporter, or journalist, depending on who she's talking to. Clark didn't seem to object, seeing as his company was a news corporation, but I got the distinct impression that he and Lois were just hoping she wasn't trying to follow in Clark's footsteps too closely.

The Justice League doesn't let me pair up with Kara on missions. Batman says it's a matter of emotional stability and decision making, which I understand. That doesn't mean I like it, but I won't argue with him because he's right. Instead I get sent on anything else, from some intergalactic aid to poachers. Despite the impenetrable armor I gave Kara, I still worry when she's on a mission. I'm sure she worries about me just the same, but from what I can tell, she forces herself to focus on her mission. I'm certainly jealous of her fortitude, but what else should I expect from the woman who lost me twice, technically speaking.

I had just finished cooking the bacon and a few pancakes as Kara strolled into the kitchen. She was interning at CatCo Worldwide Media, a competitor of Kent Corporations, and she always made sure to dress as though she was an official employee. A generous black skirt, she knew the shorter it was, the more it made me nervous, and a fully buttoned dark green top. I didn't dare look at her shoes, knowing full well she wore her black heels. Clark had offered her a position at his company, but Kara had insisted that she had to make her own footing. I think Clark respected her decision.

"Did you save any hot water for me?" I joked to her as I handed her plate of fresh bacon and pancakes, simultaneously reaching for a mug in the cupboard.

"Never," Kara whispered, kissing me on the cheek and taking her plate with vigor. I smiled as I poured her a cup of coffee, mixing in her cream with plenty of sugar. I turned back towards her and handed her the cup.

"Any big plans today?" I asked, turning my attention to the remaining strips of bacon and pancakes. There was a moment of silence as Kara finished chewing.

"Well, I'm pretty sure Ms. Grant is trying to find a replacement for her political column, and I thought I might throw my hat in the ring," Kara managed to say before wolfing down the rest of her food.

"I thought you said Kathy from downstairs was in the running for that job," I noted, piling her plate with a few more strips of bacon and pancakes. Kara nodded.

"Yeah, but as far as I can tell, Kathy is scared of Ms. Grant, so I figured if I stand up for myself I should make more of a splash," Kara noted. "Not that I want to steal it out from Kathy," she added hastily. I smiled and kissed her cheek.

"It sounds like Kathy was in the running just based on seniority, not necessarily because she was qualified," I told her, leaning on the counter as I drank my usual tea. Kara shrugged. "Besides, it's not like you to disrupt the natural order of things without reason." Kara shot me a small look of warning, most likely not to insinuate that she was a pushover.

"I'm just trying to make sure my internship doesn't end at that," Kara said, wiping her hands on a napkin. I quickly swooped in and took her plate before she could stop me. "Besides, if we're going to have little ones running around, it'd be nice to have a solid job already, especially some built income." I stopped in my tracks, my heart racing in what I would call panic-excitement as I glanced at my finger, seeing my engagement ring still on my hand.

I had bought Kara an engagement ring a mere months after we started dating, it had only felt right. From there, I had at least a half dozen prospects on a wedding ring, which I barely managed to hold myself back from buying all of them and letting her choose. I had proposed to Kara the day before our first day of college, and thankfully she was ecstatic and overjoyed. We agreed to wait until we could afford a wedding ourselves to decide a date, but every oh-so-often she would drop such comments about kids. But three hours after I had proposed, Kara revealed to me that she had the same intention and a ring to match.

In my moment of shock, Kara kissed me on the cheek as she took her dishes from my hands and proceeded to rinse them off in the sink. A mildly dirty trick, but a trick nonetheless. I knew I couldn't let her get away with such an offense, and I quickly wrapped my arms around her waist.

"That was cruel," I said, smiling as I kissed her neck. Kara finished and stopped the water, leaning against me and beaming. I continued to kiss her neck, her wet hand finding its way into my hair.

"Callum," Kara said softly, "I have to go to work." I reluctantly stopped my assault on her neck and let her go. My sadness must have shown because Kara quickly wrapped her arms around my neck, facing me, and planted a solid kiss on my lips.

"Don't forget to stop by Amber's apartment today," Kara said, smiling softly. "And you promised Mason you'd take the time to help him unpack." I nodded and smiled.

"I love it when you remind me to do stuff," I admitted. Kara's smile brightened.

"I love you," Kara said, kissing me again.

"I love you too," I told her, kissing her back. "Have a good day."

"You too," Kara said, waving as she left. Even after all this time, it always hurt to see her go, even if it was for something as trivial as work. After she left, I proceeded to shower and prepare for work.