Disclaimer: As always, I do NOT OWN Superman, Supergirl and other related characters.

Superman is created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.

Supergirl is created by Otto Binder.

The "Earth Angel" aspect of Supergirl is created by Peter David.

Superman and other related characters are property of DC comics.

The following scenes DO NOT HAPPEN IN THE COMIC BOOK!

Chapter 7

I landed near Lexcorp assessing the damage. There was a gaping hole where one of the walls was supposed to be. Fifteen people, all in lab coats, were killed. Their bodies were strewn about in awkward positions. None of the blood smelled fresh.

"What happened here?" I said to dad in full uniform (in his wheelchair nonetheless), as I spotted him and pulled him aside.

"Nothing good-" he said, shaking his head motioning to the bodies, "Forensics came in and said that they never seen anything like this."

"How's mom dealing with- Y'know?" I whispered.

"Not taking it too well. She's been going to church a lot to pray for her
drinking problem. She said something in the morning about Smallville creating a 'Church of S' or something." He said in a hushed tone.

"DANVERS! What is she doing here?!" The chief said walking up to him, eyeing me like I was some sort of criminal.

He turned to me and said, "Just telling her it's none of her business.".

It was a game we always played when we would get caught talking to each other.

I smiled, nodding.

I walked over to the hole in the wall and saw a familiar pink goo, which I scooped up into the capsule that I was carrying.

"HEY! You can't take away evidence at a crime scene!" The chief yelled at me, grabbing my hand in the process.

"Watch me." I said in a steely voice that made him shiver.

He automatically let go of my hand and said, "Who are you planning to give it to, some guy with pointy ears?"

"As as matter of fact, yes." I said to him sternly, folding my arms across my chest and giving him a stare down.

He swallowed, hard.

I saw a swat car pull in and instantly turned to the chief.

"You called them here, didn't you?" I stated, glaring at him.

"Should I tell them to leave?" he asked after he found his voice.

I sighed.

"No, I'll do it." I told him as I lifted the bar up that held the doors shut.

I hate it when the cops bring in more people; it's like they don't care for the lives at stake.

Especially, if someone already killed 15 people, who knows if they'll kill more of them.

I opened the door to the back of the swat car and heard a few low whistles, some jabs in the ribs and some slaps at the back of people's heads.

"Hi boys-" ,I said looking around. It was almost full of guys except for a few ladies, "- and girls."

"Well, hello there." a guy in the back said.

"Look guys, you all came here by mistake-" I started.

"-Mistake?! The cops sent us here," the guy in the back said interrupting me.

"They shouldn't have. Besides, I'm trying to prevent you all from coming home in body bags, tonight." I said to him directly.

"Says you." Mr. Talk-a-lot scoffed, "How can we know that are who you say you are? You could be a cosplayer for all we know."

He was getting at my last steel nerve.

I super sped to him and he automatically held his gun to my cheek.
"Go ahead. Pull the trigger." I said, daring him.

He lowered his gun.

"I thought so." I said.

"Come on. That's gotta be some sort of trick." He said as I walked away from him.

"TRICK?!!! WHY YOU LITTLE-"

I super sped back to him, lifting him up a few inched, eyes burning.

"Whoa, Calm down little firecracker." The guy that was seated next to him said.

I ignored him, while Mr. Talk-without-thinking tried to say something.

"I could rip your intestines out of your spine and use it as a jump rope." I said to him, seething.

He fell silent and I let him go. He heaved, inhaling the air he'd lost.

"So, what happened back there?", said someone near me.

"That's confidential information." I said, sternly.

"Yeah, I'm sure you say that to everyone." Mr. Talky said fiddling around with the silencer for his gun.

"Fine. You want to know the situation? There are fifteen people outside, dead. Whoever did it might get to you next, and I'm not sure you would like that to happen."

"What are you planning to do to it? Kill it with your hot temper?" Mr. Talky said, aiming his gun at me.

"No." I said to him, annoyed.

He was still looking through the gun turret when I said, "Shoot."

"What?" he said perplexed.

"If you want me to prove to you that I'm Supergirl, just shoot me." I said to him, arms folded.

"O-kay." He said aiming his gun at me and fired.

I caught the bullet in mid-air.

"It's amazing how something so small can harm so many." I murmured.

I crushed it, the gun powder was in my palm and I dusted them off.

"Keep it as a souvenir, kid." I said giving it to him, his mouth twitching.

I walked out of the swat car and said directly to Mr. Talky, "You better change your attitude when I come back here-".

"You mean if." He interrupted again.

"No, I mean when. And quit being a jackass, it isn't working for your complexion." I said shutting the door.

"What was that about?" the chief asked me.

"There's a kid, in there that needs an attitude adjustment." I said to him, eyeing a guy that came out of a black sedan near one of the cop cars.

He was dressed in a tailored suit that looked too fancy to wear at a place like this.

It was streamlined and sort of futuristic looking.

There wasn't a decal on the side of the car, which is odd.

Usually there would be some sort of ID that indicated that he would be part of the FBI, CIA or something.

The chief looked at me and said that he just came in.

The guy glanced at me, as if he knew who I was.

I sighed, looked upwards, and flew towards the warehouse.

I saw the guy go into his car and turned it on.

Great. Just what I needed today: a stalker.