unnecessary-database:

karalovesallthegirls:

Kara is in a bathroom stall trying to finish a particularly long rambling text when the two walk in. She doesn’t pay them much mind at first, but her ears perk up just a bit when she hears one of them say supergirl in a heavily accented, heavily vitriolic whisper.

She floats her legs up so they can’t be seen under the door.

“I know it is uncomfortable,” the other one is saying as the water turns on, “but it is the price we pay. With them here at least we know we’re safe.”

The first one laughs a throaty, obviously alien laugh, and says, “tell that to those who died in the attack. You know that would never have happened if they were not around.”

“Look, there’s nothing we can do. They’re friends with the owner. Besides, all my interactions with them have been pleasant.”

“My brother is still missing, you know that? Those pigs took him from our home four years ago without any warning and he’s still gone. No word if he is even alive. But now that they’ve got their little human looking poster child suddenly it’s okay to be extraterrestrial, it’s okay for them to come into our space and act like they are not our oppressors. Like they have not stolen our children away time and again. It sickens me.”

“I have heard of another place opening soon. less legitimate but a strict no human policy.”

The other one grunts, shutting the sink off. Kara can hear the sound of paper towels being used.

“And none of their little alien pets, either.”

The other laughs – a shrill groan that makes Kara’s insides feel like mush – and agrees.

“Of course. No supergirl.”

Kara waits nearly fifteen minutes after they leave to let her feet touch the ground again.

She walks slowly back to the table where her friends sit drunkenly arguing over a story from a few weeks ago. She sees Alex with her arm slung casually around Maggie, sees the hint of her sidearm under her jacket. Winn is loudly refuting James claim while munching away at the only bar food edible for humans. Kara lets her eyes wander over the rest of the bar and it feels like she’s really seeing it for the first time.

She sees how the other patrons huddle on the walls with at least two tables between them and her friends. She sees The tells of agitation, the side eye glare that flashes towards Winn when his excited yell results in spewed food crumbs all over the group. Everyone yells back, jumping up to try and escape his spray. Kara hears the grumbled mumblings of a large bug-like humanoid who tosses its money on the table and skitters out in a huff.

She’s brought back by a soft hand on her shoulder. Alex is giving her a concerned look.

“Hey,” Alex says quietly, “you okay?”

It feels like the walls are creeping in on her and her ears are ringing.

“No. I’m not.”

Kara starts the next morning.

She doesn’t actually wait until the sun has risen. She talked with Alex for an hour and formulated a plan. Alex isn’t entirely on board–yet–but she’s willing to give it a shot. And that’s a good enough place for Kara.

She has Vazquez teach her the last bits of the system she didn’t know and is halfway through the records before J’onn and Winn even get into work.

J’onn examines her work and just sighs. She glares. “You knew this was coming.“

“I did.”

“Times have changed, J’onn. We can’t do what we used to. We can do better. It’s time. It was time months ago, years ago. We can’t put this off.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

And they begin.

Kara speaks to everyone personally. They can’t put every alien through their rehabilitation program. But they have a relocation program for those who want it, and they move all but the most dangerous into better accommodations. Bigger, with more light. A comfortable bed and a stack of books and a window–reinforced bulletproof glass, but still.

About half their prisoners are released within six months. There are some that have been locked up for a while, for no particular reason. Many had minor misdemeanors. Lots just didn’t know how to deal with their abilities on earth, and weren’t given the same loving care Kara first had. Kara–and J’onn and Alex–work with them on controlling their abilities. And they’re let free, with only a little bit of oversight. Not parole, not a supervisor, just a sort of… someone looking out for them. Someone in their corner. A lot of DEO agents volunteer for the new mentorship program.

And slowly, so slowly, the DEO isn’t a prison. For the most part. They still have the most dangerous alien criminals locked up. The rehab program isn’t for everyone. Some aliens are just bad, the same way some people are just bad. Kara chats with Psi weekly. She flies to the old bunker and all their other facilities to help out with the program.

Some aliens are harder to rehabilitate than others. Some can’t speak English. Some are completely out of control with their powers. Some have been locked up in a fish tank in the dark since the real Hank Henshaw and now are so mad at the DEO they’d be a threat to public safety if they were let out. But Kara won’t give up. And pretty soon, there are a lot more people working on solutions with her.

Kara writes a hundred stories on the aliens now out in public. Lena works on tech to help suppress the powers of those who ask for help with it. Alex teaches them how to defend themselves without taking out a city block. Winn gets them ID’s and starts a weekend class so they can learn computer skills. James and Sam work to find them all jobs until they find something they want a career in.

J’onn’s still nervous about some of them. Kara finally rolls her eyes and fixes him with a stare. “Do you really think that I can’t track down anyone if I need to? Give them a chance, J’onn, the world is changing and they deserve a chance. We got one.”

J’onn finally wraps an arm around her. “I know you’re right. I trust you. Change can be hard, but you’re right, it’s worth it.”

And if one day, Kara hears that voice from the bathroom again, but this time it’s to her face, somewhat mumbled, and thanking her for her efforts, well… she’ll know she’s on the right track.