[ It's difficult, admitting that he doesn't know. For all his strength and power, Apollo feels horribly, terribly useless. Once upon a time he was the guy who cauterised the entire fucking moon and yet now he can't find out what happened to his friend - his first friend.

(And of course there's everything that goes with it too - the other reason why Kara was so important. That strange, unspoken link - too fragile for either of them to address directly - that gave Apollo the possibility of home. Apollo had never, ever allowed himself to be upset about his missing childhood and the life that he might have had before Bendix had christened him Apollo and set him on his mission to make the world a finer place. Until he'd met Kara and learned about Krypton.)

He feels the brush of Midnighter's arm against his own - a welcome touch, despite the layer of fabric between them. He slows down, rolling to a stop in the middle of the grim, gloomy corridor. ]

One day she was here, the next... gone. Her room is empty, nobody's seen her... [ Apollo's expression is distant and uncomfortable, even as he admits the very thing he hates most: ] I don't know what happened. There's no sign of her. I have no fucking idea if she's even alive...

[ His fists clench, an involuntary reaction to just how fucking frustrating it all is. This - this is why he didn't want Midnighter on board. ]