Chapter 3 - Christmas with the Kents
Kara's relentless pursuit of answers regarding Izzy's baffling disappearance propels her through an intricate web of fruitless leads and mounting frustrations. She dedicates herself wholeheartedly to solving the puzzle, visiting familiar haunts Izzy frequented, meticulously re-interviewing family, friends, and even old classmates. Her determination is unwavering, evident in her tireless quest to uncover any crumb of information that might shed light on Izzy's vanishing. However, despite her persistent efforts, the void of information remains unfilled.
The compounded anxiety over both Izzy and Mon-El's mysteries entwines into a vicious cycle that torments Kara's sleep. Her nights become fractured and restless, the darkness a canvas for her to grapple with the unfinished stories of her loved ones.
The image of Mon-El's last moments haunts her every night. The nagging thought of their unfinished business and the possibility that something might have been different gnaws at her consciousness. The lack of closure, the chance to say goodbye, hangs heavy in her heart, and the quiet of the night amplifies these emotions.
Eventually, Kara's sleepless nights lead her to Al's Dive Bar, the very place Mon-El was last seen. The somber ambiance of the bar resonates with her grief, and she clings to a club soda, her companion in this lonely vigil. The night is still, broken only by the hum of the bar's equipment. But amidst this silence, she notices a subtle detail – the bartender, Nick, leaving through the back door with a bag of trash.
Megann, who has come to recognize Kara from her relationship with Mon-El, approaches her with a sense of familiarity. Concern lingers beneath her eyes as she acknowledges the pain Kara carries. Despite her attempts to conceal her vulnerability, Kara's eyes betray the turmoil within.
"Hey, Kara," Megann greets her, aware that Kara's presence in the bar has become more frequent since Mon-El's disappearance.
Kara's gaze remains fixed on the door through which Nick had left. She seems lost in thought, as if seeking something in the details that she can't quite grasp.
"You okay?" Megann asks, her tone gentle as she continues wiping down a nearby table.
Kara's response is hesitant, her voice mired in the intricacies of her own thoughts. "Uh… yeah?" Her uncertainty is palpable, her gaze drifting back to Megann, trying to offer a semblance of normalcy that she herself can't fully feel.
A sad smile twitches at the corner of her lips as she chuckles dryly, a fragile attempt to mask her struggle. It's a futile façade, however, as Megann sees through it. The intimacy of Kara's pain is etched in her eyes.
Concern deepening, Megann probes further. "Did Nick do something to you?"
Kara shakes her head, attempting to dismiss the thought, but the turmoil within her is undeniable. "No! No…" Her voice quivers slightly as she sighs, her vulnerability becoming more evident. "I'm just trying to figure out what Mon-El's last moments were like."
Kara lifts her gaze to meet Megann's, her attempt at a smile a mask for the raw emotions underneath. Adjusting her glasses, she pushes herself to be open, despite her discomfort. Vulnerability is unfamiliar territory for her.
Megann's sigh carries a mix of empathy and guilt. She understands the connection Kara had with Mon-El, and a part of her blames herself for the circumstances that led to his absence. She wonders if things might have turned out differently had Mon-El not covered her shift.
Her voice is gentle, carrying the weight of her regret. "Well, it's not much, Kara. He probably chatted with some patrons, cracked a few jokes like he usually did, tended the bar, and then clocked out, throwing away the trash on his way."
Kara's breath trembles out of her, a mixture of frustration and sadness. She bites her lower lip, grappling with a range of emotions. The scene Megann describes is mundane, normal – but it's a picture that contains the entirety of Mon-El's last moments. A small fragment of his existence that carries the weight of everything he was.
Her eyes glimmer with unshed tears, and she gazes back at the door he walked through, her voice quivering. "Is… is there a camera out there?"
The question is barely more than a whisper, a desperate plea for something tangible, something more than memories. Her desperation rings through her words.
"Kara, it won't change anything-"
Kara's voice is soft but uneven, a fragile admission of her needs. "Please? I just... I need to see him again." Her throat tightens as she swallows down the lump that's formed there. The vulnerability she's showing to Megann is foreign to her, but it's a testament to the depth of her pain.
Megann hesitates, weighing the consequences, but the empathy in her eyes wins out. She rises, disappearing into the back of the bar, leaving Kara to her thoughts. Around twenty minutes later, she returns, a flash drive in hand. She offers it to Kara with a mixture of sympathy and hope. "I really hope this brings you the peace you're looking for."
Kara's trembling fingers accept the flash drive, her eyes heavy with gratitude. She knows that this footage might not change anything, might not reveal anything new. Yet, the sliver of hope it represents is enough to ignite anticipation within her. Her heart races as she takes the tool that might answer her questions or lead her deeper into uncertainty.
Leaving the bar, Kara makes her way back home. Alone in her apartment, the flash drive lies on her kitchen table, a silent testament to the answers it might hold. Nervousness bubbles within her as she paces her living room, the weight of anticipation almost suffocating. The prospect of watching the footage becomes a battle between hope and dread. It's a moment she has been simultaneously longing for and dreading.
The night ticks on, and the darkness outside her window offers no comfort. She debates walking away, leaving the video for the morning when her mind might be clearer. But her sleepless hours push her to action. She scolds herself for the fuss she's made, berating herself for elevating something that might ultimately prove inconsequential.
"Come on, Kara, just do it," she mutters, her voice a mixture of frustration and determination. She rises from her bed, her steps purposeful as she marches over to her laptop. With a deep breath, she plugs in the flash drive and hits play before her second thoughts can catch up.
The screen flickers to life, revealing a grainy scene. Mon-El steps into view, and a bittersweet pang hits Kara's heart. He seems relaxed, a stark contrast to the storm within her. As the video plays, her heart hammers in her chest, her breath held in anticipation.
He leaves the bar, waves goodbye to someone off-screen – likely a friend or regular – and disposes of the trash. His actions are mundane, almost ordinary, yet they hold an indescribable weight.
Kara's fingers twitch, the desire to rewind and replay the scene overwhelming. She wants more, needs more. She fast-forwards, hoping for an extended glimpse. But the footage remains unchanged – just a snippet of Mon-El's last moments.
Disappointment crashes over her, frustration bubbling like a storm within her chest. She replays the short video, each repetition intensifying her desperation for answers. Her mind races with questions – how can this be all there is? Where are the clues, the reasons? The video doesn't offer anything but a glimpse into a fleeting moment. It's not enough to satisfy her need for understanding.
Kara's internal monologue becomes a swirl of emotions. "He was alive... he was fine... and now he's gone. This makes no sense!" she growls, her anger surging as she grapples with the incomprehensible loss. She pushes her laptop off the table, Mon-El's absence is a gaping hole that defies all reason.
Her tears fall, a mixture of anger and sorrow. She wipes them away angrily, frustration driving her to action. She marches to her fridge, retrieving a leftover alcoholic beverage. The burn in her throat becomes a tangible sensation, a distraction from the emotional chaos swirling within her.
She pours another drink, then another, chasing the sensation of numbness. It's a desperate attempt to escape the pain, to find solace in something other than grief. Each gulp is a battle against the void left by Mon-El's departure.
The alcohol eventually runs out, leaving her standing in the wreckage of her emotions. With unsteady steps, she returns to her laptop, the pull of the video irresistible even in her inebriated state. A muttered curse escapes her as she notices the cracked screen, the physical damage mirroring her emotional turmoil.
Collapsing onto her couch, she fumbles for her phone, her words slurred as she leaves a rambling voicemail for Winn. Mon-El, her shattered laptop, the labyrinth of emotions – all meld together in her intoxicated confession.
As the voicemail ends, her phone slips from her grasp, forgotten as the weight of exhaustion finally claims her. She succumbs to sleep, the turmoil of her emotions finally giving way to a restless slumber, a temporary respite from the questions that continue to haunt her.
Kara strides into the new apartment shared by Mon-El and her friend Winn. The surprising confluence of these two distinct parts of her life is still sinking in. For two years, she meticulously kept her friend groups separate, so when Winn jumped at the chance to room with Mon-El, it was a shock. What she doesn't realize, though, is that Winn thought she was the one looking for an apartment.
Mon-El and Winn are almost polar opposites, making their cohabitation an interesting experiment. Mon-El, especially when he's had a few drinks, becomes rowdier, chattier, and flirty. It's a side of him that seems to be surfacing more often. Winn, on the other hand, is a tech nerd with a penchant for all things comic books and Star Wars. Their differences make for an entertaining dynamic, even if they do clash occasionally.
Kara's thoughts are interrupted as she warns Mon-El, "Mon-El, I'm coming into your room...so tell your girlfriend to get dressed. I don't want to walk into that... again."
"That was..." Kara starts, her voice trailing off as she's suddenly hit by a flying garment.
"Open your eyes, Danvers. I'm alone," Mon-El chuckles, his voice carrying the playful banter they've always shared. Kara throws his shirt back at him, using the moment to fix her hair.
"Put a shirt on, Mon-El," she rolls her eyes, a feigned annoyance that does little to mask her inadvertent inspection of his bare torso. She quickly snaps out of her accidental ogling, shifting her attention to helping Mon-El pack.
"Winn!" Kara calls for Winn as she finishes zipping Mon-El's bag. "We're..." she begins to warn him, but her concern evaporates as she notices Winn emerging into Mon-El's room, all packed and ready.
Kara sighs with relief. "Winn, I could kiss you!" she exclaims, tossing Mon-El's bag at him. Unbeknownst to her, Winn's face reddens at her words, while Mon-El chuckles at Kara's obliviousness to Winn's feelings.
"Actually," Mon-El teases Winn, a mischievous glint in his eye, "He'd love that."
Winn's glare shoots daggers at Mon-El, but Kara remains blissfully unaware of the underlying tension. Her focus is on the taxi app on her phone, her eagerness to get to the airport palpable. "Ready? They'll be here soon." She looks up at Mon-El, who nods in affirmation.
"Super ready, Supergirl," he jests, a hint of humor in his tone. Kara responds with an eye roll, and the three of them make their way out of the apartment.
The flight offers no respite for Kara's unsettled nerves. Mon-El's initial loosening up after ordering a drink quickly devolves into flirtatious chatter with the woman seated next to Kara. Trapped between them, Kara feels increasingly uncomfortable. However, Mon-El reads her like a book and intervenes, flashing a polite smile at the woman before putting on a pair of earmuffs so he can rest.
Mon-El awakens as the plane descends, his head resting on Kara's shoulder. Oblivious to his sleepy state, she's engrossed in reading an internship pamphlet. Her junior year is looming, and she's anxious about her career prospects. Mon-El has urged her to switch majors to something she genuinely enjoys, like journalism, but her stubbornness prevails. The stress of her applications only amplifies as the anniversary of Jeremiah's death approaches.
Exiting the plane, Mon-El tries to redirect her focus to the present moment. He reminds her that there's plenty of time to apply later and encourages her to embrace the holiday season. His attempts are derailed by a text from Alex, announcing her and Eliza's arrival at the Kent farm. Kara's gaze remains locked on her internship applications throughout the journey to the farm.
However, the sight of her 7-year-old cousin wipes away her anxieties, painting a broad smile across her face. "Kal!" Kara exclaims, rushing out of the taxi and scooping him into her arms. She twirls him around, showering him with kisses until he protests about the mushiness. Mon-El smiles, letting the cousins enjoy their reunion while he handles their luggage.
Clark takes Kara on a whirlwind tour, proudly showing off his trophies, toys, and even his spaceship bed. Kara listens attentively, as Clark tells her a story about ANTony, his favorite ant in his ant farm. Although, she's skeptical that he can distinguish the tiny insects. She's finally allowed to catch her breath around lunchtime, just in time to assist Martha in the kitchen. Mon-El joins them, telling Martha that Kara is a woman of many skills, but cooking isn't one of them. Mon-El's teasing earns him a playful hit on the side from Kara.
While they cook, Mon-El decides to go for a run. He showers upon his return, his steps quiet as he descends the stairs. As he enters the kitchen, the realization that almost everyone is already eating without him pricks at his insecurities. The loudness of Kara's laughter and the genuine happiness that radiates from her hits him particularly hard. It stings, even though he knows he shouldn't take it personally. She's happy without him.
Mon-El turns away, inadvertently bumping into Winn who's descending from upstairs. Plastering on a fake smile, he suggests to Winn that they head to the bar for a drink. Winn hesitates, but decides to give Kara some uninterrupted family time and agrees. As they head out, Mon-El can't shake off the small pang of feeling left out, even though he knows he shouldn't let it bother him.
Mon-El found himself in a challenging yet unexpectedly satisfying position as Lena's assistant. Juggling her frenetic schedule was no joke, and he often felt like he was on a rollercoaster ride trying to keep up with her. But against all odds, he discovered he was quite adept at the role, occasionally surprising himself with his skills. The fact that Lena herself acknowledged his competence on numerous occasions was a welcome confidence boost.
One of the perks of his newfound role was the opportunity to accompany Lena to various meetings and events. This provided him with a front-row seat to her professional and personal life, and John, in particular, saw this as an advantageous way to gather intelligence on the Luthors. Mon-El, being cautious not to arouse suspicion, embraced the chance.
However, Mon-El recognized that Lena was a closed book in many respects. While her friendships with Jack and James provided him with some glimpses into her personal life, there was a guardedness that he couldn't fully penetrate. The interactions with Jack and James outside of work were cordial, often revolving around light-hearted conversations and shared interests. They occasionally went out for drinks, and Mon-El would sip only on club soda, using Lena's busy schedule as a convenient excuse not to indulge in alcohol.
In these more relaxed moments, Mon-El noticed something intriguing – Jack had a tendency to become quite talkative when he was a few drinks in. His guard seemed to drop, and he shared anecdotes and insights that he probably wouldn't have divulged under normal circumstances. Mon-El realized that this was a golden opportunity. He could discreetly steer conversations toward topics that interested him, gently prying into areas that could potentially help him get closer to finding his way back to Kara.
As Kara and Alex wrapped up assisting Jonathan and Martha with setting up their tent at the Smallville Christmas jamboree, Kara's attention was caught by the conspicuous absence of Mon-El and Winn. It wasn't until a couple of hours later that the missing duo finally made their presence known, albeit not in the best way. A raucous commotion near the game area drew Kara's gaze, revealing Mon-El in the midst of animated conversation with a group of women. His laughter was so robust that even Alex couldn't help but notice, her displeasure evident as she criticized Mon-El for his behavior at a family gathering.
Kara tried to ignore her sister's double standards. However, her irritation escalated rapidly when she witnessed Mon-El's reckless antics lead to the unintentional destruction of a decoration. To make matters worse, Winn and the women around him erupted in cheers, adding to Kara's growing frustration.
Fueled by a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance, Kara stormed toward the scene, her determination to put an end to this situation evident in her stride. "Mon-El!"
She didn't hesitate to physically intervene, grabbing Mon-El and Winn by their arms and forcefully pulling them away from the astonished onlookers. The color drained from Winn's face, his guilt clear in his expression, while Mon-El attempted to deflect the situation with his characteristic charm, slinging an arm around Kara's shoulders and trying to diffuse her anger with humor. However, Kara swiftly shrugged off his arm, unamused and undeterred.
Caught off guard by Kara's sudden assertiveness, Mon-El stumbled slightly in the hay-strewn ground, his balance compromised by the effects of alcohol. Torn between irritation and concern, Kara's hesitation was brief, extinguished by Clark's quizzical gaze directed their way. Compelled by her cousin's silent inquiry, she hoisted Mon-El to his feet, gripping his face and making him meet her intense blue eyes. Her reprimand was stern, her words demanding his undivided attention and acknowledgment of his irresponsible behavior.
"Mon-El." Kara calls him again. Mon-El's laughter waned in the face of Kara's seriousness, the weight of his actions finally sinking in as he stared into her eyes. Kara withdrew her hands, placing them firmly on her hips as she let her frustration loose. "Does it look like I'm laughing?" She says sternly as she reminded him of her clearly stated expectations for the weekend, and his flagrant disregard for them.
"I..." Mon-El attempted to apologize, his words stumbling in his inebriated state, but Kara's sigh was heavy with disappointment, her resolve unwavering as she led both of them back to her rental truck, not willing to waste more time on their foolishness.
The drive back to the Kent farm was marked by tense silence. Winn, burdened by guilt, stumbled directly to his bed upon their return, collapsing with a sigh. Mon-El, however, proved more resistant to subdue. In his intoxicated state, he insisted on explaining himself to Kara, his words slurred and disjointed. Yet, she paid his words little heed, practically shoving him into the bathroom and turning the shower on, clothes and all.
The cold water hitting his body was like a harsh wake-up call, rapidly sobering him up. He emerged from the shower in a t-shirt and pajama pants, cautiously seeking out Kara. He called her name softly, standing in the doorway as he found her arranging her futon for the night. The words "Kara" and "sorry" tumbled out of his mouth, genuine remorse etched across his features. Kara's response, however, was delayed, her exhaustion and irritation palpable.
"No!" She yells, stopping what she's doing and turning to him. "I don't care that you're sorry Mon-El! I clearly asked you to stay sober this weekend and you ignore my wishes." She continues to yell, her face turning red from the intensity of her anger.
"Ok, ok. That's one strike on me, but Kara-" Mon-El attempted to lighten the atmosphere, placing his hands on her shoulders, but she reacted by pushing them away, her frustration visible. He endeavored to explain his perspective, his words tinged with earnestness, but Kara's patience had reached its limit.
"This isn't baseball Mon-El! This was important to me and you clearly don't respect me enough to care!" Her voice trembled with a mixture of fatigue and hurt as she spoke, accusing him of not valuing her wishes or respecting her priorities.
Mon-El's shock was palpable; despite his occasional thoughtlessness, his care for Kara ran deep.
"Kara, I didn't do this on purpose..." He opened his mouth to offer further explanation, to bridge the gap between them, but her weary headshake silenced him. She wanted no more excuses. She walked away, heading to the kitchen, leaving Mon-El to stew in his self-reproach. He tugged at his hair, berating himself for his actions, before dragging himself back to his room, resolute in finding a way to make amends with Kara.
The next morning, Kara misses work due to a hangover, and she's woken up around noon by frantic knocks on her front door. She groans and drags her feet across the floor to open the door, irritation evident on her face. "What?" She asks, raising an eyebrow when she sees that it's Winn.
"You called me about your laptop last night," Winn explains urgently. Kara furrows her brow, struggling to remember when she made that call. Then, it hits her – the frustrated outburst and subsequent breakdown from the previous night. "Right," she mutters, stepping aside to let Winn in. He enters, casting a concerned look around the mess in her living space.
"Don't ask," Kara grumbles, following Winn as he heads towards her kitchen table. He plugs his tablet into her laptop and mirrors the screen, running tests to identify any other damages apart from the shattered screen. While the diagnostics run in the background, Winn glances around and spots an empty alcohol bottle. Kara lets out a sigh, her frustration palpable. "I got angry and I broke it," she confesses.
Winn sighs in understanding, his gaze returning to the test results on his tablet. "Yeah, I got that...but why, Kara?" he probes gently. He wants to comprehend the underlying reasons behind her outburst, aware that Kara's emotions run deep, especially concerning certain matters.
Kara bites her lower lip, her eyes shifting towards the flash drive on the floor. She retrieves it and hands it to Winn, who proceeds to reconnect it to the computer. He opens the file and watches a video, his expression growing somber as he comprehends its significance. "Kara," he begins, preparing to lecture her about dwelling on the past and the importance of healing.
"I know, Winn," Kara interjects, her voice edged with frustration. She's equally weary of the situation. "But healing isn't easy for me in this case. He is...he was family," she confesses, her vulnerability showing through her words. Winn sighs, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. He's relieved that she's at least acknowledging her emotions instead of suppressing them as she did in the initial weeks following his death.
As Winn starts to unplug his tablet, Kara suddenly halts him, her eyes widening with realization. "Wait!" she exclaims, pointing at his tablet. Confused, Winn raises an eyebrow, trying to discern what she's indicating. "What?" he questions, his tone puzzled.
"My laptop wasn't bright enough!" Kara's excitement is palpable as she taps onto Winn's tablet screen and zooms in on a particular detail. "Look!" she urges, stepping back and smiling brightly. Her mood appears to be lifting as she finds something intriguing in the video. Winn remains baffled, not yet comprehending what she's referring to.
"What am I supposed to see?" Winn inquires, still puzzled by what Kara is trying to convey. Her enthusiasm is infectious, but he's struggling to match her excitement.
"It's Mon-El's bike, Winn," Kara declares with certainty, her smile widening. She's convinced that she has stumbled upon a crucial detail she had missed before. However, Winn's concern remains evident, and he appears cautious about allowing her to build false hope.
"Kara, that's just a glimpse of the front wheel. How can you be so sure it's his?" Winn questions skeptically, a mix of worry and caution in his tone. He doesn't want to fuel her hopes without solid evidence, fearing that it might lead her down a painful path of false expectations.
Kara tries to reason her discovery with him, her voice earnest. She knows Mon-El's bike inside out, having spent countless hours around him as he meticulously maintained it. "Winn, it's well after his shift ended. Why would he leave without his bike?" she points out. Her conviction in this detail stems from her familiarity with his habits and routines.
"Kara..." Winn begins gently, his frown evident. He treads carefully, aware of the emotional implications of this discovery. "Even if it is his bike, what does it change?"
Kara's bright optimism begins to dim, her gaze dropping as her shoulders slump. "I guess it doesn't change anything," she admits with a touch of resignation, her voice tinged with disappointment. She walks over to her couch and sinks onto it, her thoughts weighed down by the reality of Mon-El's absence. It's a stark reminder that no matter the details she uncovers, he's still gone.
Winn sighs, realizing the complexity of Kara's feelings. He carefully packs up her laptop, deciding to shift their focus. "Come to CatCo tomorrow, and I'll arrange a loaner for you," he suggests, attempting to provide a practical solution. "Sounds good?" he inquires, hoping to gently guide her away from the subject that's causing her so much pain. Kara merely nods, her gaze distant as she grapples with her emotions. It's a reminder that healing isn't a linear process, and some wounds take much longer to mend.
On Christmas Eve, Mon-El rises early, determined to make amends for his behavior the previous night. He heads out to buy groceries and prepares a lavish breakfast for everyone, hoping to make up for his antics.
The aroma of the delicious meal fills the house as he sets the table. As compliments pour in for his culinary skills, Mon-El seizes the moment to express his remorse. He admits his mistake from the previous night and acknowledges that his actions had a negative impact, particularly on Clark. He apologizes to Winn for dragging him into the mess and tries to make amends with Kara, whose gaze she avoids.
While most of the group, except perhaps Alex, forgives him, Martha dismisses it as typical college behavior. Innocently, Clark asks if Mon-El and Winn are feeling up to opening a present later that night. Mon-El smiles and nods, assuring that they're well enough for the planned festivities. Winn isn't harboring any resentment towards Mon-El, but he's concerned about Kara's feelings toward him. His anxiety eases when Kara asks him to hand her something from the table.
Mon-El notices the double standard and sighs inwardly. No matter how hard he tries throughout the day, Kara remains resolute in ignoring him. While the Danvers and the Kents gather to open their one allotted Eve present, Mon-El excuses himself to wash the dishes, even tidying up the kitchen. As the group moves outside for some stargazing, he decides to call it a night early.
His slumber is interrupted on Christmas morning by a pair of small yet strong hands. "Hmm?" Mon-El mumbles, blinking open one eye to find Clark pushing at his back from atop the covers.
"Clark, aren't you supposed to be opening presents?" Mon-El questions, sitting up and smiling at the young boy. His smile fades when he sees Clark's glare.
"You made Kara mad!" Clark accuses with a frown. "And she won't play with me."
Mon-El inwardly chastises himself for causing strife between Kara and Clark. "Don't worry, buddy," he reassures Clark. "I'll fix it." He gets out of bed, with Clark right behind him. Mon-El makes a beeline for the balcony, where Kara is engaged in conversation with Jonathan and Eliza. Ignoring Kara's protests, Mon-El hoists her over his shoulder and carries her back inside, where he sets her in front of the Christmas tree.
He retrieves a small box and extends it to her, but Kara stubbornly avoids looking at him, arms crossed and a grumpy expression on her face. Frustrated, Mon-El lets out a sigh. "Kara," he implores, unfolding her arms and placing the box in her hand. He's met with her resistance, yet Clark's hopeful gaze is a gentle nudge that breaks her resolve.
Finally, Kara opens the present and gasps in astonishment. Tears well up in her eyes, and she covers her mouth in shock. Clark, however, takes this as a bad sign and scolds and hits Mon-El on the arm, clearly unimpressed with him for making Kara cry.
Kara chuckles at Clark's reaction, a mixture of amusement and tenderness in her eyes. She rises from the couch and enfolds Mon-El in a tight hug. "You kept it," she whispers softly, tears trickling down her cheeks.
Clark stares at her puzzled, along with the rest of the family. Kara eventually pulls away from the hug and smiles at Mon-El through her tears.
Mon-El wipes away her tears gently. "Of course, Kara," he murmurs, his voice carrying a mixture of fondness and reassurance. Dropping his hands to his pockets, he continues, "I would never lose something so important." He watches her as she retrieves the contents of the box, revealing a stunning emerald necklace, the same one her mother had given her as a child. Despite the years that have passed, the necklace appears as vibrant as ever, retaining its ageless beauty.
Mon-El accepts the piece of jewelry from her, moving behind her to carefully brush her hair aside and fasten the necklace around her neck. As he secures the clasp, Kara looks up at him with a radiant smile. However, her contentment is short-lived as she hits Mon-El on the arm, mimicking Clark's earlier action.
"Ow!" Mon-El exclaims, pretending to be wounded.
"I'm still mad at you," Kara insists, her playful frown returning. Mon-El nods quickly, understanding the gravity of her emotions. He takes her hand gently, looking into her eyes with sincerity. "I won't do it again," he vows... though breaking habits are easier said than done.