317. Chapter 317

Something’s familiar about Kara the first time he sees her, when she walks almost timidly into Maggie’s apartment – which Adrian’s filled up with the scents of the cooking his dad and Maggie have taught him to do over the years – and hugs her sister and hugs Maggie.

There’s something familiar about her when she walks toward him, where he’s stationed in the kitchen with the “Kiss the Cook, He’s Hot, Just Look at Him” apron Maggie keeps in his little cabinet.

Maggie squints and watches him closely, her lips pursed with the beginnings of a grin.

Alex nudges her gently in the shoulder.

Maggie nudges her gently right back.

Kara adjusts her glasses, and Adrian – ever relishing the opportunity to play host, especially tonight; the first night that he’s meeting anyone from Alex’s life – wipes his hand on his apron and extends it toward her.

“Firm handshake,” they both say, impressed, at the same time, and Maggie and Alex exchange a partially nervous, partially excited glance.

“I’ve heard all about you from Maggie and Alex,” Kara tells him after they power through their slightly awkward giggling and let their hands drop awkwardly to their sides.

“And I’ve heard all about you. So I cooked a lot! I love food, too,” he enthuses, and he gives her a whirlwind tour of all the dishes he and Alex have been making.

Kara is groaning within seconds, and she leans into Maggie eagerly.

“Can I borrow him sometimes? He cooks so much!”

“I helped!” Alex protests, offended, and Maggie, Adrian, and Kara exchange a secret glance that has all three of them stifling laughter.

The tickle war that ensues – Adrian only joining the Danvers girls and their Maggie after Alex yanks him in – bonds him and Kara into a solid tickle team against their older sisters.

As the night goes on, Adrian’s initial impression of familiarity with Kara fades as he gets to know her.

Gets to know the way she snorts sometimes when she laughs; the way that Alex and Maggie really weren’t exaggerating when they told him to cook extra food; the way she doesn’t flinch, not once, when Adrian and Maggie swap queer jokes; the way she laughs along, because maybe, just maybe, she’s queer, too.

He doesn’t think about it – that familiarity, that jolt of ‘haven’t I seen you before’ – until he’s face down on the cracked concrete, his university in Star City under some sort of Cadmus attack.

He doesn’t think he’s injured – he thinks he can feel all his limbs – but his hands shake on his phone.

Everyone around him must be calling 911. He knows that. Him?

He doesn’t care if she’s entire cities away.

He calls the only police number that makes him feel safe.

Maggie’s.

“Okay, Ade, can you get somewhere out of the way? Somewhere hidden? I’m sending someone for you. I promise we’re getting you out of there, I promise you. Just stay on the phone, okay, kid? I’ve got you. Just… just stay on the phone. And no heroics, kid, you here me?”

He can’t hear what she shouts next – it’s garbled and there’s so much screaming on his end that he can’t get his head around it – and he doesn’t have time to protest that whoever she sends can’t possibly get there in time, because these guys have guns that look like they can blow up the entire quad with one or two shots…

And he heard her, he did, when she said no heroics, but there’s some kid that looks like a freshman and he’s sitting ducks, looks like his ankle is broken, and Adrian doesn’t think – Maggie wouldn’t think – and Adrian sprints, and Adrian hauls him to his feet, and Adrian turns, and there’s a Cadmus weapon trained at him, and Maggie’s voice will be the last thing he hears, and somehow, that’s okay.

But then there’s a shadow flying low above him, and there’s a rustling and his hair flutters and there’s a red cape and an explosion from the weapon that was pointing at him but the explosion doesn’t hit him or the kid he’s supporting, doesn’t hurt him or the kid he’s holding.

He doesn’t even feel its heat.

Because Supergirl has landed in front of him, and he hears his schoolmates scattered across the broken quad, cheering, because Supergirl is snapping the weapon over her knee and knocking the Cadmus guy out cold easily.

She turns to Adrian and the boy with the broken ankle with her hands on her hips, like she hadn’t just flown across multiple cities and beaten up an armed Cadmus lackey with her bare hands, grinning faintly at the applause in the background.

“Oof, looks like you need a doctor,” she tells the boy, and he nods breathlessly.

“Can we get a couple medics here?” Supergirl calls, her voice low, and something twitches in the back of Adrian’s mind, that familiarity, but he can’t place it.

She doesn’t look at him and he vaguely wonders why as two paramedics on scene run up to help the boy Adrian had protected. The boy kisses Adrian’s cheek with a soft thank you, scribbling his number onto Adrian’s forearm as they help him limp somewhere he can get his ankle looked at.

Adrian watches him go with wide eyes, and he raises his phone to his ear again, but Supergirl takes it from him before he can speak.

“I thought you told him no heroics!” she scolds into the phone, and suddenly Adrian knows why he felt that sensation of familiarity when he met Kara.

“Well, apparently he’s just about as good at obeying orders as you and my sister are; when I got here he was busy rescuing some kid with a broken ankle – I know, I’ll tell him – I – well, I think he’s earned it. I mean, you trust him, right, and he just proved he’s got the heart of a hero – I know you’ve always said that – okay, you know what, I’m on duty, I’m putting him on the phone. I’ll see you at movie night tonight. Tell Alex everything’s under control here, but they should still send a team to clean up the mess. Here, Adrian,” she finishes, handing him back the phone.

“Thanks Kara,” he says faintly, softly, looking levelly into her eyes, and she grins softly at him.

“Welcome to the Superfriends,” she puts a hand on his shoulder with a soft wink, letting her voice rise more into Kara’s than Supergirl’s for a moment.

He puts the phone back to his ear, still slack-jawed, as Kara flies up, up, and away with a whoosh that blows his jacket back, over to survey the rest of campus, to make sure there’s no lingering threat.

“Maggie – “ he begins, but stops, because he has no idea what to say.

“The glasses really don’t help, do they, kid?”

He laughs explosively, because in the last five minutes, he’s almost died, he’s saved a boy’s life, he’s gotten said boy’s number, and he’s found out that his queer aunt slash sister-in-law just happens to be Supergirl.

He’s alive, and he has a boy’s phone number on his arm, and Supergirl – Kara, Kara, Kara – trusts him with her biggest secret.

So he laughs explosively, he laughs happily, he laughs with relief and with love and with affection, because no. No, the glasses really don’t help.