Karaâs always been a light sleeper, even back on Krypton. Her parents used to call her zhindifâsit, Always Wakening, because whenever Alura or Zor-El had come home late from yet another emergency meeting, young Kara sat up in her bed, eyes wide and inquisitive. Asking, making sure, ever protective: âIs everything alright?â And though Alura would nod with as much reassurance as she could muster, and Zor-El would stroke over Karaâs head with his warm, strong hands, Kara knew. Knew that the answer was no. That it would forever remain no. And she rarely found back to sleep these nights.
Karaâs always been a light sleeper, and it only got worse on Earth. Even with the yellow sun hiding at night, its influence over Kara waning the deeper the darkness around her became, to Karaâs sensitive ears, Earth was simply too loud. Alexâs light snoring from the twin bed across the room was one thing, Jeremiahâs considerably louder snoring from two rooms away another. But Karaâs super-hearing extended way beyond the confines of the Danversâ house on the outskirts of Midvale, and things went downhill quickly.
Eliza sat her down for The Talk barely two days after Karaâd landed on Earth. Jeremiah filled the bookshelves of her room with endless encyclopediae on terrestrial wildlife. Alex, in an early bout of sisterly love, allowed her to use her noise-cancelling headphones each night. But although NSYNC helped Kara through many of the ups and downs of adolescence, even they did not manage to distract her when a woman three cities away had twins at 2am on a school night. Needless to say that the calculus test next day ended up being Karaâs worst grade since her first English exam.
So yes, Karaâs always been a light sleeper. Which is why when she hears a familiar voice gasp out in terror in the middle of the night, she is awake in a heartbeat and out through the window in two.
