It had been a few months since I had last seen Clark. He had come around at Christmas, but he hadn't been able to stay that long. "Something's come up—at work," he said, not daring to meet my eyes, "I'm sorry, I have to go." Clark wasn't able to make it back before his vacation was up, and in that time Superman had taken down a coalition of villains who had decided to attack Metropolis while Superman was on holiday. My dad was going into town on business anyway, so he was fine taking me into the city and dropping me off at Clark's for Memorial Day weekend. The only thing my dad didn't know was that Clark didn't know I was coming.

When I got to his apartment, I waited for my dad to turn the corner before I floated up to the balcony of Clark's apartment. He always left it unlocked as, in his words, "Who on earth would be so desperate to break in to my apartment that they would risk using the balcony?"

Evidently, he hadn't seen me coming. He was still at work when I got in, so I made myself at home and started cooking dinner. I knew he would appreciate my mom's famous curry, so I decided to make that. He somehow had all of the needed ingredients, and I had about an hour to kill before he got home, so I got started.

An hour later, on the dot, I put the finishing touches on the two plates of curry, and Clark opened the door. Literally a millisecond later, he was behind me, hand up, ready to knock me out; I caught his fist and gently pushed him backwards, as easily as I could—even with my strength, he barely moved.

"Hi Cuz," I smiled weakly, "I thought we should talk, so I made curry."

"How did you get in here?" He asked, thoroughly shocked to see me.

"I…uh…flew?"

"You did what?" He sounded more shell-shocked than angry, thankfully. I motioned to the chair with his plate of curry.

"Like I said, I think we should talk. Have a seat,"

He still seemed shocked, so I guided him to the chair, and pushed him down. I sat down opposite him, picked up my fork, and stared at him until he did the same. Still watching him, I took a bite of the curry and waiting until he did the same. As soon as he took his first bite, a bit of the color returned, and he kept eating.

"So," I started, "You still remember what happened last time,"

"How could I forget?" his laugh was empty.

"I still have them Clark—I can fly, I can lift almost anything I put my mind to, and I can run, fast,"

"Kara," he started, but I cut him off.

"And I met Wondergirl, and Batman and Robin. I've been training with Wondergirl for the past six months, Clark: I've only gotten stronger."

"Kara, I still don't think…"

"Look," I said, cutting him off again, "If that was it, honestly, I wouldn't have come here. But, something happened, and you're the only one who can tell me what's going on."

He frowned, in confusion thankfully, and put down his fork.

"I'm all ears."

I dove into my story of what happened with Batman, and the heat vision problem. Clark was silent the entire time, taking in the information quietly. When I finished, he sat back, and crossed his arms.

"Show me," he said, and when he saw the slight fear that crossed my face, he smiled a little, "You said that the tears didn't actually do anything when they hit something other than you. Show me."

I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath, and focused all the heat again. When I opened my eyes to darkness, like last time, Clark gasped again. I felt the tears burning down my cheeks again, and I heard and felt Clark stand up.

"Kara stop—release it now,"

I let my breath go with a start—Clark sounded extremely worried, a tone a rarely heard. The heat disappeared, and when I opened my eyes, Clark was staring at me, fear and shock coloring his face.

"Kara, listen to me, and listen carefully," he took my hands in his and I could practically feel the anxiety pulsing through him. "I don't know how, but your tears just showed the traits of Kryptonite. It burned your skin, clearly gave you pain, and it was an unnatural shade of green—I can't believe I didn't notice it sooner. It—it's like you have Kryptonite in your body, but I have no clue how it could have gotten there." After a moment of letting the idea sink in, Clark stood up. He went back to the kitchen, while I was left to let take in the thought that I was filled to a toxic substance. When he came back, he was holding two coffee mugs filled with some form of steaming liquid.

"Come on, the couch is far more comfortable."

I followed him to the couch, and accepted the mug when he handed it to me; it was warmed milk, probably containing honey as well. I took a sip, letting the sweet flavor wash away the sick taste in my mouth.

"Ok, now, what all have you practiced?"

"I…I can lift about two tons of concrete, I can puncture metal when I fly at it really fast, and I can fly at any speed."

"How far away can you hear?"

"Excuse me?"

"Right now, four floors below us, there is a couple arguing; what are they arguing about?"

I felt shocked, but I closed my eyes and—I don't know—reached out, with my ears. Below us, I could hear someone vacuuming, and another floor down what sounded like someone rearranging furniture. Around the loud, distracting noises, there were sounds of conversation, and the muted sound of arguing, but I couldn't actually hear words, just the tones.

"I can hear the vacuum," I said, "and the person changing their furniture, but I can't hear anything thing else clearly enough to be sure."

Clark hummed, then looked out the window behind me.

"In that large brown building, the one behind the two grey ones with the advertisements for the movies; there is a man on the twenty-fifth floor, fifth window from the right: what is he doing?"

I frowned but turned to look out the window anyway; I saw the building he was talking about, but it was incredibly far away. I pushed out with my eyes this time, trying to close in on the number of floors first. It took me a few minutes of counting carefully to get to the twenty-fifth floor, and then find the fifth window from the right, but the glass was simply opaque. I couldn't see anything.

"Sorry," I said, "Nothing."

Clark hummed again, then pointed towards his room. "There are three books on my bedside table, name them in order." I stood up, intent on going to find them, when Clark took my hand. "No, from here."

"Clark, there are walls in the way."

"I know, go ahead."

I frowned but looked towards his room, and pushed with my mind again. One wall seemed to disappear, allowing me to see the woodwork beneath before that became transparent as well. I looked through another wall, watching the first layer disappear again, showing the wood, but that was it—I couldn't go any farther.

"I can see through some of the walls, but I can't see that far away." I shrugged.

Clark nodded, then looked into his cup. I took another few gulps of my drink, a bit exhausted from trying so hard.

"Kara, if you had my full powers, those tasks should have been simple for you. I would attribute that to it simply being the side effects of the transfusion, but every time you tried to use those powers, your eyes became completely green, just like before. It's like something is in there—we need to get you checked out."

"Clark, I highly doubt that doctors are going to have the right technology."

Clark grimaced a little bit, and put his cup down.

"It depends on which doctors you talk to."

About an hour later, we were dressed in our Super-finest and flying far away from Metropolis. My super-speed was nothing compared to Clark's. He could fly circles around me, literally. Thankfully, he didn't push the speed issue. According to him, even at my speed, we would be there in no time.

I felt the trepidation before I actually saw the place. A compound of huge white buildings, surrounded by fence and guard towers, sat neatly in the middle of an otherwise unaltered desert. I could practically hear Clark frowning as we touched down outside the main gate, and found ourselves face to face with a line of armed guards.

"What do you want Supes?" One of the men asked in more of a warning tone, "We aren't afraid to shoot."

"I'm not here to fight," Clark said in his big voice, "I need to see Doctor Hamilton. There's someone I need him to meet."

After dozens of security checks, Clark and I were escorted down a maze of hallways until we arrived at a rather unassuming office. Inside, a man with a bushy, neatly-trimmed beard and thick glasses sat at a desk, pouring into several books. The head security guard coughed, and the man looked up.

"You have a visitor, Doctor."

"Oh," the man asked, seeming genuinely happy, "Who might that be?"

The security guard stepped aside to reveal Clark, standing tall and intimidating in the doorway of the tiny office. "S-superman? What on earth are you doing here?" the man asked, almost afraid, "I thought we agreed to disagree!"

"This isn't about that," Clark said, still reluctant, "I have someone for you to meet, and she has quite the story." Now Clark stepped to the side, motioning to me. I never wanted to hide more in my life. The Doctor's eyes locked on me, and it felt like he had the x-ray vision I was supposed to. After a long moment, and a critical frown, the Doctor dismissed the guards and invited us in, closing the door behind us.

"You have my attention," He said simply, "Explain."

Clark dove into a slightly abridged story of the incident with Livewire, about how I had been an innocent bystander, and I had been saved with some of Clark's blood. Then Clark explained that I had come to him now six-months later, showing manifested powers of my own.

"She explained to me that she was orphaned at a young age in a freak accident, and now that she has almost all of my powers, I wonder if, maybe, there isn't something more to it. Her powers are all a fraction of mine, but, well," Clark turned to me, "Show him what happens when you try to use heat vision."

"Superman—in here?" Hamilton was frantic.

"Don't worry," I mumbled, "I don't cause any damage, you'll see." I closed my eyes, focused on the heat, and opened my eyes to continued darkness, and pain dripping down my cheeks.

"My word," the doctor murmured, "That's the same shade as Kryptonite."

"Exactly," Clark said, placing a hand on my shoulder, signaling me to release the heat. "I don't know how, but it's almost as if she has Kryptonite in her. I don't know of anyone else with the technology to figure out what is going on with her. Please, Dr. Hamilton," Dr. Hamilton seemed shocked by the sentiment, "You have to help her. We need to know."

"Lucky for you," Dr. Hamilton said after a moment, eyes still warily locked on me, "My curiosity is now completely hooked on this. I want to know about as much as you do. Come," he stood up, "Let's get to the lab; the sooner we start, the sooner we'll know."

A huge knot formed in my stomach as I followed Clark and Dr. Hamilton back down the winding halls. I had a terrible feeling.