Supergirl and The Robin Hoods - Chapter 6

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scforbes8489
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Chapter Six – Memories –
Imagine a still pond with a stone breaking the surface and making symmetric ripples, spreading from the temporary hole in the water out the touch the shore in all directions. This is like memory. If you took a photograph of the waves, and didn’t know where the stone went below the surface, you could calculate the source, the incident that made the pattern.
The Crisis had “overwritten” memories like dropping a larger stone into that same pond would overtake the smaller waves. But, under the larger ripples and currents the smaller peaks and crests could still be teased out. Recreated. Retrieved.
This is what J’onn had done with those who had been through The Crisis. The Monitor’s powers of amending history at the quantum level were impressive, but not unlimited. The deeper reality would always remain, if the waves were recognized …. Or not.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, – and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of – wheeled and soared and swung …
- John Gillespie Magee -

Kara was used to flying. Used to breaking the surly bonds of Earth … but not like this. Not carried aloft, carried like a swaddled child by a lady her age while wrists and ankles were crossed and tied with rope treated to emit just the right amount of Kryptonite radiation to keep her at a Terran level of strength.
Across town a scout leader tried her ropes for the twenty third time, but she’d long since stopped counting the attempts. Not, exactly, as she planned the day. She’d been talked into the scouting thing.
“It’ll be great.” Her friends said. “You’ll love it…” she was assured.
To be fair, she thought, with the week she had it wasn’t all that bad being tied up under a stage, waiting for the park crew to dismantle things. It was a bit of a break from responsibilities and she’d decided this was a good as reason as any to take the next day off from her less-than-exciting accounting job downtown.
Still, it would have been a bit more relaxing had the crew of three - that had trussed her and stashed her below the stage - didn’t place into her ear the communication piece that began the day in Supergirl’s ear.
They’d, evidently, wanted her to be found. So, while she – strangely – never felt she was in any real danger – she did begin to wonder why they bothered. Twice she’d almost drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the comfort of climbing ropes. But, both times, she was brought back to her wrapped reality with idle chatter from disembodied voices in her left ear.
She knew rescue was soon when they began asking for Supergirl specifically. Not being able to answer, it was only a matter of time.
Alex was the first to suspect something wasn’t, quite, right. Which was kind of ironic, considering that J’onn was the team member who was tuned into psychic frequencies.
What humans termed “psychic” J’onn would have explained as sensitivity to quantum phenomena. This was why J’onn could restore memories and see the underlying patterns. The waves with which the Monitor overwrote reality didn’t erase the original pattern. Like a pond with waves that can be traced back to a source; J’onn could recreate the memories that were “splashed” over.
Alex had called in a few favors at the new DEO. Friends who would always be loyal to her and Supergirl but were so far along with profit-sharing and corporate gym memberships that they were content to lay low and take direction from the Luthors. Hey, a paycheck was paycheck.
“Supergirl, please respond….”
“Nothing, Alex …” came the reply on her phone after she’d called an old friend at the DEO.
“Well, can you give me her location?” asked Alex.
“Sure. She’s still at CC Park - according to her comms.” Said her DEO mole.
“That ended hours ago …” With that, Alex left the conversation unfinished and called J’onn and Dreamer. Ten minutes later they were in Central Park, honing in on a comm signal coming from the grandstand, which was just beginning to be broken down by the crew that helped set up the Central City Explorer event.
Some bunting moved and some plywood set aside, and there … in a scout uniform with the comm in her ear, was a disheveled scout leader who looked at her rescuers with pleading eyes and asked for a glass of water once her gag was removed.
Alex found the comm in her ear as Dreamer and J’onn undid the climbing ropes.
“Supergirl’s comm. ….Somebody has her!” said Alex.

“Who did this to you?” asked J’onn, of the now-free scoutmaster who was sitting cross-legged in a pile of purple ropes.
As she related her story to her rescuers, never really questioning why they were dressed as they were – after all, Halloween was only a week away – she described three people – a lady and two men. The guys held her while the woman applied rope. She remembered the name “Jazz” being uttered at one point, and the almost gentle skill with which the rope was applied. Neatly, comfortably. She’d been tied well enough to hold her for a few hours, but the rope didn’t cross uncomfortably and the knots didn’t press against her skin.
“It was almost like they were concerned for my comfort.” She related. Especially the lady they called “Jazz.”

A cup of coffee later and a drive home and the scout leader was back with her roommate with a tale of rope and rescue, while J’onn, Alex, and Dreamer were left heading to their computers with a pile of purple climbing rope.



Supergirl was carried into the warehouse by Jazz and brought past the makeshift command center – with screens angled towards three chairs and a tangled assortment of oscilloscopes and wires on folding tables scattered about. Beyond the center of the warehouse were disused offices, which had been turned into the lowest of low-cost housing for these want-to-be Robin Hoods.
Tech and Yose’s rooms were easy enough to pick out. Follow the trail of candy bar wrappers and old coffee cups. The decorations in the boy’s rooms was decidedly Spartan, save for taped magazine articles that either concerned themselves with the Luthors or the latest technology.
Shannon’s room was a bit different. More personal mementos and a steel-framed bed that looked comfortable with pillows and covers compared to the cots in the boy’s rooms.
They’d been living here, rent-free thanks to a bit of hacking, until the warehouse’s scheduled demolition in about a month. Then, it would be time to find another place to live off the grid. But, by then, their plan to put the “prol movement” on the map would have changed this area anyway, and – likely – would have washed this warehouse off the map, along with most of downtown Central City.
Supergirl still twisted her wrists and tried to fight her bonds, as Jazz carried her and set her down, gently, on her own bed.
“Here … stay comfortable … you won’t be here long …” said Jazz, as she deposited the Girl of Steel on her comforter.
Kara felt like a kid that had been carried to bed. The difference, of course, was she had her wrist tied behind her and was tied at the ankles and knees. She knew she was still in the city. The van ride wasn’t that far. But the kryptonite in the ropes interfered with her x-ray vision, and the best she could do was sit up and start asking the standard questions.
“What? Why? … How ….” Began Kara …

Shannon pulled up a chair. Framed pictured in her room showed her in sunlight, with a taller man, not one of the other two who were now going about some task in the warehouse. Pictures of summer days and rock climbing on the granite cliffs outside of the city. Pictures of a smiling Shannon Long, so different from the one holding Supergirl captive at the moment.

“Before you begin all of those cliché’ questions, Supergirl, “ began the redhead from her chair, “…just know you’re not going to be hurt in any way. We just need you to …. Relax, for a bit, while we do one little thing.”

“Relax?” began Kara. “Seriously?” Supergirl pulled her bound wrists from behind her back, around her cape, just far enough to be seen by Shannon. “Relax tied up?”

“Yes, Relax. The Luthors can do without you far a day … “

“What have you done? Why can’t I break these?” started Kara.

“There’s no harm in telling you.” Said Shannon. “Kryptonite, my friend. Just enough in the ropes to let you know what it’s like to be one of us. To be human. Sorry we had to do this, but you’re the only one who could have stopped our statement against your friends, the Luthors.”
“They’re NOT my friends …” started Kara.
There must have been something about her tone that caught Shannon’s attention.
“You’re their pet! Their showgirl! Flying around dressed like a cheerleader and doing their bidding.” Said Shannon, with more than a bit of edge to her voice.
“We’re going to show this city, and the world, that the Luthors can be hurt, and they don’t control everything.”
“Listen …” said Kara, “I know this is going to be hard to believe, but things aren’t what they seem … at ALL …”
By now Kara had assessed her surroundings and noticed the personal pictures on the wall.
“Is that you?” began Kara, with a calmer, more diplomatic tone.

“Yes…” came the terse reply from Jazz as she gathered a few things and readied to join Tech and Yose.

“Who’s that with you in the pictures? He’s older than you…. Your brother? Dad?”

Shannon “Jazz” Long paused in the doorway, half considered regagging her super prisoner, then turned to Supergirl and said; “He’s someone who’s gone now and someone who would have been proud of what we’re about to do. You’ll be fine. Enjoy a break from your ‘super duties.’ Lie back, relax, and tomorrow at this time you’ll be free to fly.”

Shannon left he room and headed to the lights over Tech and Yose, who were having an animated conversation right up until Jazz was in sight. Suddenly acting like two school kids who’d been caught by the teacher, they stopped talking.
Kara was left alone on a bed to twist and turn in well-tied ropes. Knots out of reach and wrists behind her. So this was what it felt like to be a human damsel in distress, she thought.
“What are you guys talking about?” Jazz asked as she approached the two.
“Uh, just going over the dam specs.”

Behind them, on one of the large screens set up over their workstation, was the Central City Dam project: A monumental concrete structure bringing power to the city and backing up a freshwater lake into the granite canyon beyond. A dam that, if breached, would wash out half of Central City and the DEO along with it. A dam with explosives placed in key locations - over the last week - to achieve the goal of the prols. The goal of getting noticed.
“And the city evacuation plan? That’s set, right?” asked Shannon.

Yose and Tech gave each other the subtlest of looks. “Yes, of course, said Yose. There won’t be a soul left in the city once it goes … just new crews to cover the washing away of the Luthor’s building.’
“Good.” said Jazz, Remember, no one gets hurt.”

“No one.” said Yose.



“Anything? Can you get anything from these?” Alex pleaded with J’onn, almost frantic in her tone.
“Give me some time …” said J’onn, as he held coils of purple climbing rope and closed his eyelids tightly.
“J’onn could sense the hidden quantum waves of reality, and even sense the residual signature form an object someone recently held. It wasn’t exact, and it took superhuman concentration. Fortunately, J’onn was not human.
In the dream-like state of focus, J’onn could see someone. A man. Maybe fifty years old, fit… someone who looked like he’s spent time outside …
“I’m getting something …” J’onn said.

“Laughter. A lady and man, climbing with this rope. I can feel the granite. It’s sunny … warm … “ J’onn continued.

“I’m seeing things the way they were … not they way they are. It’s murky. “

“Pre-crisis …” said Dreamer.



“Exactly …” said J’onn. Continuing with his eyes shut but acknowledging Dreamer’s insight.

“He's falling! I see him falling….” J’onn suddenly shouted.

“NO!” said J’onn, echoing the voice of Shannon in his vision.

J’onn snapped out of his vision. “What was it? What did you see?” asked Dreamer.

“A man and his daughter climbing in the granite hills above Central Lake. He fell, lost ….” Said J’onn.

“But, there’s something else … I’ve seen this man before. He’s familiar.”

Alex rolled her chair over to a computer … “Can you recreate his face? We could look through the DEO database.”

“I’ll get to work …”



Back at the waterfront, gulls gathered for the evening in the eaves of the old cannery and inside three “prols” were working under lights at a table with a diagram of Central Dam in front of them. The same table where they’d recently, tapped into Lena Luthor’s feed from her office. The same table where they planned to sound the tsunami warning sirens to evacuate the city ahead of their plan.

Kara had been rendered weaker because of the kryptonite in the black, nylon rope. But that didn’t make Kara helpless. In a room just past the center of the warehouse Kara had been busy. She may have had “only” human strength, but she had all her ingenuity.

It took some effort, but she’s reached the knots holding her booted ankles and was able to make loosen them. Some slow turns and twists later, and her ankles came free. Not enough rope fell from her to give her back her Kryptonian strength, but it was progress.

Yose, Jazz, and Tech were engrossed in their screens while Kara scooched off the bed and used her wrists, behind her, to pull a framed picture from the bedside. A soft tap and there was a shard of glass available to cut the nylon.

Kara had been drunk before, tossing back a few with Mon El and having a bit too much Chardonnay on game night. This was another way Earth had it all over Krypton. Sure, Krypton might have had stronger gravity, better technology, and some seriously complex architecture … but they had never invented a pub.

Kara worked and sawed the black rope and with each tiny movement, a bit more came lose. But that feeling of having one-too-many would linger for a bit. Kryptonite interfered with the Kryptonian equivalent of mitochondria, robbing Kara of her usual strength around earth’s relatively smaller, yellow sun. This had the effect of slowing her thoughts just a bit. Like that groggy feeling before having that first cup of coffee.

“Is she secure in there?” asked Yose …

“She’s fine.” Said Shannon, who didn’t look up but was intensely studying the schematic of the Central City Dam. Her specialty was the engineering, not the computer end of things. She left that to the boys that had rooms full of candy wrappers and old coffee cups.

About the time the word “fine” was fading in the echo of the rafters there was a sound from Shannon’s room like glass breaking. Which, as it turned out, was exactly what it was. Another of the framed pictures on Shannon’s nightstand fell and the trio rushed in just as Kara was removing the last of her ropes.

Shrugging off the last of her dizziness Kara moved with swiftness that made her a blue-red blur and held Yose and Jazz, each by an arm.
Tech, who’d lagged behind, had one last card up his sleeve. And, like any good poker player, played it now before he was flown off to the DEO with his comrades.
“Supergirl! Wait! You value your friend Lena?”

This rouse might not have played so well normally, but Kara was still reeling a bit from her experience … Tech was backing up, past the table holding more Krypton-infused rope … back to a computer monitor and keyboard.
“We HAVE her Supergirl. Let them go now and she’ll be spared.”

“Spared?” Said Kara. “What’s that supposed to mean? I heard your plan. It will never work. Blowing a dam and flooding the DEO along with half of downtown? How many people will THAT spare?”
“Supergirl …” said Shannon, from her side, “I promise, we’re evacuating the city first. No one will get hurt.”
Supergirl gave a wry grin and laughed … “You’ve GOT to be kidding. You’re all going in with me.”
“And what of her?” Tech spun a screen towards Kara and his captive compatriots, a screen with Lena Luthor writhing in a hogtie wearing smartcuffs.
It was a replay of the footage the prols collected when they’d hacked into the DEO, but Kara didn’t know that.
“There she is, right now Supergirl. Your boss, your friend …”
“She’s neither and I don’t believe you …” interrupted Kara …

“Fine …” said Tech … trying to play this as cool as possible. “You might be faster that a speeding bullet … but you’ll never find her and you can take us in … but your friend Lena will be washed away along with the DEO.”
“You’re bluffing.” Said Kara.

“Am I Supergirl? You want to roll those dice? Let them go and Lena Luthor survives. Take us in, and I guarantee you’ll NEVER find her.”

Kara stood there … a slight relaxing in her grip on the arms of Shannon and Yose.

“Last chance Supergirl … go ahead, take us in. But say goodbye to Lena …”

The prols couldn’t possibly fathom the history Kara had with Lena. The Crisis, the way Kara felt she’d betrayed Lena by not revealing herself as Supergirl sooner. Tech had no way of knowing he’d found her deepest vulnerability.

Kara released Shannon and Yose …

“Good Choice Supergirl. I promise, no harm will come to either of you.”

“You won’t get away with this.” Said Kara ….

“Now THAT is a classic line!” said Tech .. as he grabbed a handful of he treated black rope and walked towards Supergirl, Shannon, and Yose.

Holding the rope to Shannon – Jazz – he said; “Do you think you can do this properly this time?”

Shannon held the rope in one arm and led Supergirl back. to her room, without a word.

On the way Supergirl and Shannon talked, almost as if it was two friends strolling along.

“Why are you aligned with these guys? Why would you do this?” asked Supergirl, as she was led back to the bed she’s just escaped.

“It goes deeper than you could possibly know, SUPERgirl. You don’t know what real loss is.”

“That’s where you wrong …” said Kara.

Shannon stopped, looked at Kara thoughtfully for a moment, and then looked at the broken shards and the photo on the floor.

“He meant a lot to you, didn’t he?” Kara said.

“Sit down please …” said Shannon, not answering the question. “Take this.” With that, Shannon handed Kara the pile of black rope, and Kara immediately felt the effect of being so close to Kryptonite.

Kara sat on the edge of Shannon’s bed.

“Take a length and find the middle …” began Shannon. This is called the ‘bit’ of the rope.”

It was knot-tying 101 for the Girl of Steel …

Kara took a suitably long length and found the middle.

“Good … now cross your ankles and bring the bite around, pulling the rope through.”

Kara felt herself becoming weaker and more helpless with each turn.

“Don’t cross the rope over itself. You have to keep your turns clean. It’s called ‘dressing’ the rope ….”

Kara was concentrating on her task, while feeling the effects.

Several turns later, Shannon went over and showed Supergirl how to bring the rope back through the middle of her ankles, tying a nice, clean, overhand knot twice and tucking any spare ends of rope behind her red boots.

“Now, SUPERgirl … take some more lengths and do the same below and above your knees.” Said Shannon.

Supergirl complied, thinking she was helping Lena by making herself helpless.

“Now … lie across the bed.” Said Shannon.

“Jazz … or whatever your real name is … you DON’T have to do this.” Said Kara, as she brought her tied legs up on the bed and laid diagonally from the headboard to the foot of the bed.

“You have no idea Supergirl.” She said. “I respect you, but you have to be here for a while.”

Shannon – Jazz – took another length of rope, about 20 feet long, and had Kara cross her wrists in front of her. Much like the tie job on her ankles, Shannon took her time. Dressing the rope, making sure the knots were tight, clean, and smooth against her blue body suit. She then took the Girl of Steels crossed wrists, raised them over her head, and stretched out Kara so her crossed wrists were tied, anchored, and tethered to the head post.

The Girl of Steel was helpless enough now, and attached to the bed she’s escaped from earlier. But Shannon was just beginning her tying process.

“Please…listen to me ..”started Kara again.

Shannon produced the silk scarf and, making sure there was a tight knot in the center, effectively gagged Kara.

Kara’s eyes widened, pleaded, but Shannon set about her task. She’s let Kara get out of her bonds once before. She wasn’t about to let that happen again. Supergirl was surrounded by enough of the bonds so Shannon could work without worrying about heat vision or super strength.

Shannon doubled another rope and brought it around Kara’s waist, found the bite, brought it through her legs and completed the crotch rope. More rope was criss-crossed across Kara’s chest, effectively making a rope harness yoking her shoulders. This gave Shannon tie-down points where she could anchor the twisting Kryptonian to her bed. Kara pulled against the metal headboard but was stretched and anchored securely.

“I’ve got to tell you now, Girl of Steel, before I add this blindfold and finish making you comfy for the night, you are one terrible poker player.” Said Shannon.



Kara stopped struggling for a moment and concentrated on Shannon’s face.

“We don’t have Lena Luthor! That was a recording …” Shannon smiled. “You’ve been had my friend.”

Kara renewed her struggles but it was to no avail. Shannon had harness and roped her waist and now was finishing knots holding Supergirl fast to her bed. Kara had just enough slack to arch her back and twist … but Shannon left not one bit of slack.

The old mattress creaked but the metal frame was more than sturdy enough for the rope and struggles.
Shannon produced a long, silk scarf.

“Relax Supergirl. You’re not going anywhere. Enjoy the down time.” Said Shannon, as she double wrapped a silken blindfold around Kara.

Shannon left her makeshift room and headed back to the control center, leaving behind her a struggling, twisting super heroine in blue tights and black rope. Kara pulled at her crossed wrists and strained to find some give with her crossed and bound ankles. But this was her place for the evening. This was her “rope-cation.”

Kara pulled and tried to see something through her blindfold, but her x-ray vision was weakened and her “mmmphhs” and muffled calls would be heard only by her captors. Kara was now completely tied, gagged, helpless, and struggling. A Kryptonian damsel in distress.
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