Chapter 8: Red Faced and a Confidant
The air in the CatCo office felt heavier than usual, thick with the unspoken tension that clung to Kara like static cling. She was angry. Adam could see it in the way she clenched her jaw, the way her eyes, usually so bright and open, held a simmering resentment. The recent confrontation with General Lane and the subsequent battle with the Red Tornado, a military android designed to be a weapon, had pushed her to her limits. She was struggling with her anger, a primal, alien emotion she rarely allowed herself to feel.
Adam found her in the breakroom, staring blankly at her coffee, which was probably cold.
"Rough day at the office, huh?" Adam asked, leaning against the counter, a casual smile on his face. "Or did Cat just unleash another one of her 'motivational' speeches? Because those can be pretty rage-inducing."
Kara sighed, a long, drawn-out sound. "It's… it's not Cat. It's… everything. General Lane, the D.E.O., Red Tornado… I just… I feel so angry. And I don't know what to do with it." Her voice was low, almost a whisper, laced with frustration.
Adam nodded, understanding. He knew this was a pivotal moment for her, a confrontation with her own suppressed emotions. "Yeah, anger's a tricky beast," he said, picking up a stray sugar packet and fiddling with it. "It's like… it's like the Hulk, right? All that raw power, all that rage. You can let it consume you, smash everything in sight, and then feel terrible about it later. Or, you can try to channel it. Use it. Like, less smashing and more self-reflection. Or maybe more smashing, if you're into that, just make sure it's controlled smashing. Directed smashing. Like a precision demolition expert, not a toddler with a sledgehammer."
Kara looked at him, a faint, wry smile touching her lips. "The Hulk, huh? Is that your go-to pop-culture analogy for everything?"
"Hey, it's a classic for a reason," Adam defended, shrugging. "But seriously. You're allowed to be angry, Kara. You're allowed to feel frustrated. It's what makes you human. Or, you know, Kryptonian with human feelings. The trick is not letting it control you. Find a punching bag. Or a really good therapist. Or maybe just scream into a pillow. Whatever works. Just… don't let it fester."
Kara was silent for a moment, then she chuckled. "Scream into a pillow? Is that your professional advice?"
"Hey, it's worked for me," Adam said with a grin. "Especially after a particularly brutal Monday morning. Or when my internet goes out." He paused, then his voice grew a little more serious. "But in all seriousness, Kara. You don't have to carry all of this alone. It's okay to talk about it. To someone. Anyone. Even a sarcastic administrative assistant who knows way too much about superhero lore."
Kara looked at him, and Adam saw the walls she usually kept up, even with Alex sometimes, begin to crumble. She felt comfortable sharing her frustrations and insecurities with him, a comfort she hadn't anticipated. He wasn't judging, he was just… listening. And offering surprisingly relevant, if quirky, advice.
"He's not trying to fix me," Kara realized. "He's just… letting me be. And he understands. More than he lets on." The romantic tension, a subtle hum beneath their easy banter, began to become noticeable, a quiet current flowing between them.
Later, Adam found Winn looking utterly defeated, surrounded by schematics of the Red Tornado. "It's a military-grade android, Adam!" Winn groaned, running a hand through his hair. "It's virtually indestructible! We can't find a weakness!"
Adam, ever the helpful (and meta-knowledge-filled) bystander, "accidentally" left a dusty, old technical manual on Winn's desk. It was open to a page detailing "Design Flaws in Early Military Android Prototypes," specifically highlighting a vulnerability in the power conduits near the head that could cause a system overload if exposed to a specific sonic frequency. "Red Tornado's weakness," Adam thought. "Classic Achilles' heel. Always with the head."
"You know," Adam said casually, pointing to the open manual. "I was just looking for a paperclip, and I found this. Looks like something from the 80s. But hey, maybe there's some retro tech in here that's still relevant. Like, a specific design flaw for military androids? Always a good read."
Winn glanced at the manual, then back at his screens. He picked it up, curiosity piqued. As he scanned the pages, his eyes widened. "A design flaw… a sonic frequency… Adam, you're a genius! This is it! This is how we can stop him!"
Adam just smiled. "Don't mention it. Just doing my part to ensure the safety of National City's paperclip supply. And maybe, you know, save a few lives along the way."
As a small, personal gesture, Adam later snuck a small, squishy stress ball onto Kara's desk. It was shaped like a comically angry, red-faced robot. He attached a sticky note: "For when you feel like smashing. Or just need a squishy friend. Don't worry, it won't turn evil. Probably." He knew she'd get the subtle, humorous nod to her recent struggles. He was becoming her primary confidant outside of Alex, and he cherished that trust.