Archive of Our Own ^beta

Exhaustion still clings to her bones when she wakes up to the insistent buzzing of her phone. Both of them. Sleep-fuzzy, it takes Kara a while to muster up enough energy to grab one. She registers the time first (11:18) which is way past sunrise and past when she was supposed to be at CatCo. Kara suppresses a groan of exasperation, already hearing the lecture Snapper is going to give her.

And then she sees the notifications.

5 missed calls from James, 2 from Snapper, 7 from Nia, 4 from J’onn, 1 from Cat, 4 from Clark, 3 from Lois, 3 from Lucy, 18 from Eliza, and 26 from Alex. 10 texts from James, 12 from Nia, 2 (very long ones) from Cat, 8 from Eliza, and a whopping 55 from Alex. And then there are several from other apps too: from The Daily Planet and CatCo , from CNN and ABC News , from the National City Tribune and the New York Times , and on and on.

Her heart jumpstarts her body into motion. Her comforter goes flying as she jolts to sit up, scrolling through her endless notifications with almost too much speed. She can hear the screen protest (just a smidge) under the pressure of her thumb. But her mind is reeling—from exhaustion, from this —too much to care if her phone breaks.

Her scrolling is interrupted as an incoming call alights her screen. Alex’s contact photo (a slightly blurry pic of her sister mid-sneeze that— no, I won’t change, Alex! ) fills her screen and Kara doesn’t hesitate to answer. Her greeting is a garbled mess of half-formed thoughts and broken, stuttered syllables; her breathing harsh and loud to her ears.

“Okay, Kar,” Alex’s slightly tinny voice comes through, calm and gentle. “Just breathe with me.”

She does just that, listening closely to the way Alex matches her harsh pants and slowly deescalates it until they’re both inhaling for one, two, three, four and exhaling for the same amount of time. It takes a bit longer for her heart to fall in line with the tempo, but Kara calms with Alex’s help. She blows out a heavy sigh, running her free hand through her hair and musing it with a frustrated shake.

“What’re we going to do?”

“We,” Alex emphasizes, “are not going to do anything. I’m going to find a way to fix this while you stay safe. Stay away from reporters and don’t draw attention to yourself, okay?”

“But—”

“Okay?” When she hesitates to answer, Alex sighs heavily. “Please, Kara. I need you to be safe.”

“Okay…”

-

The first headline to break the news was posted at 10:15 A.M. PST by the gossip rag National City Weekly.

It reads: Anonymous Source Tells All About Supergirl’s Secret!

The other headlines are similar— Supergirl’s Real Name, Supergirl’s Identity Final Revealed, The Girl Behind the Cape, etc. etc. —with a few exceptions. Why Supergirl’s Secret Identity is Secret by The Daily Planet and The Selfishness of Curiosity: Supergirl’s Secret is Hers Alone by CatCo among them. Articles along the same vein are far and few between as most capitalize on the reveal.

On how Kara Danvers is Supergirl.

The evidence seems damning. There are several articles that state facial recognition software—the type used by police departments and federal organizations—confirms a ninety-seven percent match between photos of Kara Danvers and Supergirl. Then there are testimonies from ‘inside sources’ that say they’ve never seen the two together, they’re never in the same vicinity despite Kara’s apparent connection to Supergirl. This is only further highlighted by the fact that Kara is the only one able to get regular exclusives with Supergirl, a thing made easier if you are the person you’re interviewing.

The social sites seem to be mixed in response. Some believe that Kara Danvers is Supergirl wholeheartedly, even going as far as to dig deep into her life for ‘receipts’ (and Kara is all too tempted to private her accounts, but she knows that will only be seen as more ‘proof’). Others are skeptical, but not many can raise a good fight to debunk the evidence provided.

(Some start questioning Clark Kent, Kara Danvers’ cousin, and Superman’s, Supergirl’s cousin, relationship. They start pointing out similarities between them, drawing lines where none have seen before.

Some start bringing up Alex and Eliza’s name. Even Jeremiah’s.

And just like that, all her fears have come to life. All within a single afternoon too.)

-

Alex had said ‘stay safe,’ not ‘stay put,’ so Kara tries to sneak out through her window. That is until she spots the reporters crowding in front of her apartment building. They swarm like agitated piranhas who have gotten a whiff of blood in the water; her blood. She hesitates just long enough at her window for someone to knock loudly on her door.

“Kara Danvers!” An unfamiliar voice, male and crackling around the edges, yells. “Is it true you’re Supergirl?!”

A reporter, no doubt. She could ignore it, stay within her apartment, but the pounding against her door is ceaseless and desperate. She feels unsafe in her own home, and the urge to go rises sharply in her chest, squeezing like a vice around her throat. The instinct of flight buzzes in her mind, and she needs to get somewhere safe. The DEO is out of the question, but there is one place she can go to. As soon as the thought crosses her mind, her resolve steels and she takes flight.

The reporters aren’t even aware of the speck of color that streaks across the sky.

-

Lena is in her office just as Kara hoped she would be, the balcony doors open just a little. She’s sitting at her desk, shoulders tense and hunched in a way that tells Kara she’s frowning down at whatever she’s looking at. Kara hesitates just slightly as she touches down onto the balcony, wondering if it’s right for her to bother Lena. But she needs a safe place right now, and Lena… Lena’s the only one she wants to be her safe place.

Her feet are near-silent as they settle on the ground, but Lena hears her anyway, somehow. She watches as the woman’s head tilts just slightly as if in acknowledgment. But the stiffness of her posture does not leave her even as she turns, even as her eyes—a torrent of sea greens and ocean blues, dark waters cast in the shadow of her office—meet Kara’s. For the first time in over a year, Lena is unreadable to her. And suddenly, she does not know what to do with herself under Lena’s gaze.

And Kara trembles where she stands, uncertain and— scared . But it’s not Lena’s fault she feels like this. The moment is, however, her breaking point for the day. All the stress and fear she felt since waking up overwhelms her at that moment. She’s just no longer able to handle it; it’s barely been an hour since she’s woken; she hasn’t brushed her teeth or changed out of her pajamas. She feels like a right mess. And heat prickles at the back of her eyes, her face twisting with the effort to mitigate the feeling.

“Oh, Kara.”

The words are sighed out in the softest tone she’s ever heard from Lena Luthor. She looks up from where her gaze dropped to the ground, vision blurry and wholly uncertain. Cold hands caress her cheeks, thumbs brushing along the lines of her cheekbones, and she closes her eyes at the touch, pressing closer. Gentle fingers swipe lightly at her lashes, drawing her tears down her pink cheeks. And Kara pressed forward, seeking more, and she’s guided to rest against the plane of Lena’s strong shoulder.

She shudders with the effort to keep her sobs at bay, shudders at the warmth—so warm, like the memory of Rao’s light—of Lena’s embrace. Kara wraps her arms around her, pressing her hands against Lena’s shoulder blades. She focuses on the smooth material of the dress shirt Lena’s wearing, focuses on the rise and fall of her breathing, focuses on the heartbeat she can feel beneath her palms. Lena continues to soothe her, drawing random patterns against the small of her back.

It’s gentle. It’s grounding.

It’s all Kara needs.

“I’m here, Kara,” Lena whispers in tune with the wind, breezy and quiet. And just like a promise, she says, “I’ve got you.”

-

Lena guides her inside, away from prying eyes (because, much to Kara’s horror when Lena first told her, there have been a few desperate reporters that have snuck into adjacent buildings to try to look into Lena’s office). They sit on the couch, their couch, with Kara curled against Lena’s side, legs slung across her lap. She buries her head in the junction between Lena’s neck and shoulder, no doubt getting snot and tears on the expensive material of her shirt.

“’m sorry,” she mumbles against her shoulder, pressing close still despite her anxiety. “’m such a mess.”

Lena hums non-committal as she traces the length of her spine, gentle and there. A loose strand of dark hair tickles at her cheek as Lena rests her head against her temple, her other hand resting lightly on Kara’s thigh, tracing mindless patterns on the skin just above her knee. Her touch is so certain which is different from the usual tentativeness she has. “I don’t mind.”

“They’re at my apartment.” The reporters , she doesn’t clarify. They both know what she means.

“They were here too. Downstairs.” Lips brush against her temple, just the barest of impressions, and Kara’s eyes slip shut against the sensation. “Jess scared them away,” and then, as if in an afterthought, “for now anyway.”

“I’m sorry. That’s my fault.”

“Reporters are always at my door, Kara. Don’t worry about it.”

Lena shrugs lightly, the movement jostling Kara’s head a little. And she’s about to protest, but Lena’s hand climbs up her spine to brush through knotted blonde hair. Her scalp tingles pleasantly, succeeding in settling her again. Lena’s surprisingly skilled at working through the knots with one hand, meticulously going through each one until they’ve all been dealt with.

“If…” Lena starts and stops, hesitating just slightly before powering through. “If they’re too much for you, you could—I have a place you could stay at.”

Kara finally moves back, just enough to meet Lena’s eyes. The younger woman’s hands stop in their motions, coming to rest flat against Kara’s thigh and shoulder in a loose embrace as she looks, really looks at the blonde. Light brows are furrowed tightly, forming a dense crinkle, and there is raw and naked trepidation in blue eyes.

“Lena, I-I couldn’t. I can’t—shouldn’t—I don’t want you to be—I don’t want to burden you.”

“Hey,” her chin is gently caressed, a ghost of a touch but grounding. Green eyes soften monumentally, capturing all of Kara’s attention. “I don’t feel like you’re a burden, okay? I’m offering it. If you’re uncomfortable with the idea, you can say no. I won’t go against what you decide.”

“I—okay. Yeah, I’d actually—that sounds good. I really appreciate this, Lena. Really.”

She wraps her arms around Lena’s waist, pressing back in again, and the gesture is immediately reciprocated. She can’t exactly feel how tightly Lena holds her (and she wishes that she could), but just being in her arms is more than enough. Lips press against the top of her head and stay there, slightly muffling Lena’s voice. “I can have Hector take you there now if you want. It’ll be discreet.”

“Oh. C-can I just… stay here a little longer? W-with you?”

“Of course,” Lena says, and Kara slumps into her, heart full.

-

Lena ends up driving her to her apartment herself an hour later. It’s located on the opposite side of the city, far from the L-bearing skyscraper that grows smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. Their drive is quiet—devoid of the radio for once; Kara doesn’t feel up to fiddling with it. Kara holds one of Lena’s hands throughout the ride, gently pressing against the joints and absentmindedly tracing the lines of her palms.

Lena’s second home—and how surreal is that for her friend to have two homes when Kara didn’t even think she had one (and okay, maybe she’s often joking when she says that, but she’s also very much not ) —is a condo with three floors. They enter through the lowest one, the garage, and Lena leads the way up and up to the bedroom, intent on getting Kara to rest before giving a tour. And Kara is very much ready to pass out, emotionally worn out and all. While Lena intends to continue working in her at-home office.

But Kara really needs cuddles right now.

And it doesn’t take much pleading for Lena to relent.

Kara doesn’t change, but she does borrow a toothbrush and takes the time to wash her face. Lena’s already changed when she comes out of the bathroom, dressed down in a pair of soft-looking joggers and an old band tee. She’s sitting on the left side of the bed, the side furthest away from the reaching sunlight that bleeds through the window curtains.

It’s a thoughtful placement. They both know Kara prefers sleeping in the sun, and Kara feels her heart trip over itself when she thinks about how familiar Lena is with her sleeping habits. She sinks into the bed without another second given to that line of thinking, lest her cheeks start flushing and Lena starts asking questions. She squirms around until she’s practically pressed into Lena’s side, not exactly touching but close enough for energy to buzz between them.

Kara peers up through her lashes at Lena, trying to steal her attention away from the tablet in her hands. There are a few more taps before Lena gives her the time of day, settling the tablet neatly into her lap. “Yes, Kara?”

“I thought we were going to cuddle.”

“We are,” and a blonde brow raises—a poor imitation—blue eyes flickering pointedly between Lena’s face and the tablet in her lap. And the woman at least has the decency to look sheepish. “Just… one more email, I promise.”

“ Lena. ”

“Okay, okay.”

She caves in immediately when Kara busts out the puppy-dog eyes to accompany her whine. Lena sighs, feigning exasperation as she puts her tablet face-down on the bedside table. She maneuvers her way beneath the covers, somehow not fumbling and looking poised (and oh, so pretty ), and lays on her back. Immediately, Kara latches onto her side. She waits for the few beats it takes for Lena to melt into the embrace, humming contently when Lena shifts so the blonde can tuck herself beneath her chin.

And, in Lena’s arms, feeling small yet well-taken care of, Kara feels at home. Safe.

…

you don’t have to be anybody you can never be

that’s alright, let it out, talk to me

…

Kara wakes up alone, the bed cool where Lena had laid. She rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling as she combats the feeling of disappointment, of—whatever it is she’s feelings (of not waking up to Lena by her side). And she notices, for the first time, the glow-in-the-dark sticks stuck up there. And Kara’s spent countless nights in her adolescence staring at the sky to recognize the mimicry of real-life constellations. It’s such an unexpected thing to see in Lena’s possession, in her room.

(Or perhaps it isn’t that surprising if she really thinks about it. Maybe it’s something like… indulging in childish whims that Lena hadn’t been allowed to during her childhood. Or rather, the lack thereof. The Luthors don’t seem like the family that allowed things like glow-in-the-dark stickers.

Which is a maddening thought, what the Luthors robbed Lena of. Even more maddening to think of what they continue to take from her, of what Lena cannot even imagine possessing because of the name she bears. And it angers Kara.

And makes her feel utterly useless.)

A mix of sounds in the lower level brings Kara out of her thoughts, and the scent of food wafts through the air. It smells like pasta and chicken and potstickers. Her stomach grumbles immediately, remind Kara that she hasn’t eaten since yesterday (which likely contributed to her earlier exhaustion). She gets out of bed, food in mind.

She ventures downstairs and, to her surprise, there are objects littered everywhere. Organized clutter. And like the stickers, Kara observes the space curiously, buzzing with the desire to explore every corner because… because it’s Lena’s. There are several stacks of books (manuals, theories, historicals, biographies, autobiographies, sci-fies, etc.), and there’s a pool of tools on the coffee table, a rack of DVDs and VHS tapes. There’s even a pile of what looks to be schematics, half-finished and yet, still so brilliant.

In awe, Kara turns to Lena who has been watching her from the kitchen island, an uncertain sort of look on her face with a bitten lip and scrunching brows. There’s something else there too; something that Kara can’t decipher, but the urge to question it, to prod and investigate, dies just as quickly as it rises (because, maybe, just maybe, she’s afraid of the answer she’ll get). Instead, she falls into a familiar (and well-loved) role as she soothes Lena’s nerves.

“This place is amazing. I never knew you had a home like this.”

“Yes, well,” she shrugs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I come here when I don’t want to be found. It’s not even under my name.”

“It’s not?” A shake of the head is her only answer; no elaboration provided even as her eyes turn pleading. Lena studiously avoids her eyes, but her smile has formed fully. A gentle, genuine thing that sends warmth cascading through Kara’s chest. “Well, I think this place suits you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She hums, keeping the explanation to herself. Though she does wiggle her brows as she tries to coax Lena into asking. But her friend seems to know what she’s doing and simply rolls her eyes in fond exasperation. Kara pouts but, ultimately, she breaks first. “I just—all of this stuff,” she gestures around as she finds the words to articulate her thoughts. The words bunch up in her throat, and she only manages, “It’s very you.”

Lena snorts, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Well, you should, considering you’re the best person I know.”

“I think you might be a little biased, Ms. Danvers.”

“Not in the slightest, Dr. Luthor.”

“I never should have told you that,” Lena laughs, a loud and bright thing that scrunches up her nose. And Kara beams at the sound, the tips of her ears warming pleasantly. Lena glances over at the dining area, waving a hand that way. “Food’s ready, by the way. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

As if on cue, Kara’s stomach grumbles, loud and embarrassing. But Lena doesn’t laugh even if her lips do twitch like she wants to; she just shoos Kara over to the feast lining the dining table. And Kara rushes to sit, piling food onto the plate(s) Lena must have placed for her. She grins sheepishly when Lena walks up to the table and takes a seat across from her. She gets a shrug and a nod to continue, and she gladly does so, barely holding back a moan as a burst of flavors hits her tongue.

“You know,” Lena murmurs sometime later, watching her eat but not in a way that makes her self-conscious, “in hindsight, your appetite makes more sense now.”

“Hmm?” She doesn’t catch on at first, too focused on Lena’s wonderful cooking. But when it hits her, her chewing slows and her gaze drops. Oh. Right. Lena hadn’t known. She hadn’t known about Supergirl and Kara Danvers; hadn’t known they were the same, just two sides of the same person. She swallows heavily, fear gripping her heart because…

No wonder Lena’s been giving her odd looks.

“Oh, Lena, I-I never—I didn’t want—this isn’t how—”

“Kara, hey,” Lena reaches over to rest her hand over Kara’s, her touch calming as she runs her thumb over her knuckles. Still, Kara struggles to breathe past the lump in her throat no matter how many times she swallows. “It’s fine.”

“I-It’s not.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Yes, I do.” Her voice cracks just slightly. As much as Lena will say everything is fine, and as much as Kara would like to believe that, it’s hard to when Lena’s gaze is unreadable. She seems so close and yet she’s the farthest she’s ever felt. And Kara’s about to push it, to continue the conversation that Lena clearly wants to end, but they’re interrupted by the shrill sound of Lena’s phone.

There’s nothing gentle about the interruption, especially when Lena’s quick to answer it, not even sparing another glance to Kara. She stares down at her plate, not really seeing and appetite gone. Her mouth feels impossibly dry and her mind is impossibly fuzzy. It was stupid of her to forget that Lena hadn’t known. It was stupid of her to not consider how Lena must be feeling.

Because Lena Luthor didn’t know Kara’s night job. And now she does.

Just like the rest of the world.

Just like an outsider.

Rao, everything is messed up.

“Agent Danvers?” Lena’s voice pierces through the blockade her mind is stuck at, and her ears swivel around to focus on the conversation. Kara leaves the table, perking up at the mention of her sister. She approaches Lena slowly, barely able to meet the green eyes that watch her closely. Whatever Alex is saying can’t be good because dark brows are settling low and there’s a crinkle forming between them. Lena’s shoulders are beginning to tense too, rising higher and higher with each passing second.

‘What is it?’ Kara mouths and Lena bites her lip; hesitant. And then she puts the phone on speaker.

“If something happened to her, I swear—”

“Alex?” She interrupts, absolutely bewildered by the animosity her sister growls with and bemused by the threats she’s spewing.

“Kara!” And suddenly her voice is pleasant, “Oh, thank god. Are you okay?”

“Yes, of course! I’m with Lena,” who moves away, clearly not interested in staying for the rest of the conversation. Kara moves to—to do something; comfort her, maybe.

Her hand is halfway to touching Lena’s arms when the younger woman catches it. The brunette squeezes her hand briefly before dropping it and smiling that self-deprecating one as if to say it’s fine when it’s not. It feels like they’re back at square one. And Kara can only watch as Lena moves further away.

“Kara? Kara! You still there?”

“Yeah, Alex,” she says, still licking her wounds and folding in on herself. “I’m safe, just like you said to be.”

“Yeah, I know, but did it really have to be with—”

“Don’t.” She stops it there, pleads really. And she glances over to where Lena’s disappearing up the stairs, retreating, running. She sighs heavily and desperately wishes everyone could just get along. Especially today. It would make things easier, and it would lessen the time where she feels like she has to pick sides (she’ll pick Lena’s, always). Kara picks up the phone, pressing the speak button and pressing it against her ear. “I’m fine, safe. Lena’s been nothing but supportive.”

She’s been everything, is what she really means.

“You know I just worry.”

“Yeah. Yes, I know.” It doesn’t excuse the way you behaved though. She scrubs a hand over her face, definitely feeling tired again even after practically sleeping the day away. “Any good news?”

A tinny sigh tells her the answer even before Alex says, “No. J’onn actually wants you to come in. He thinks it’s best to involve everyone.”

“Then that means Lena too.”

“Kara…”

“She’s involved now, Alex.” She plants a fist against her hip, just about a second away from stomping her foot, and channels as much sternness as she can into her voice. The edge is audible in her voice because Alex doesn’t try to interrupt again. “I’m bringing her with me. It’s not negotiable.”

“Fine… I’ll get her clearance.”

“Thanks.”

The call ends with the dial tone beeping and the screen turning black. Kara sighs heavily, scrubbing a hand over her face again. She pinches her cheeks lightly, trying to psyche herself up for what’s coming up. She climbs back up the stairs, finding Lena already made up in her work clothes and standing in front of the wall-to-wall mirror before the bathroom. Lena’s pulling her hair back to tie into a business bun when she catches Kara’s eyes in the mirror. A fine brow raises, the only change to her expression.

Kara opens her mouth but shuts it when she finds herself at a loss for words. They stand in silence, one that’s loud and heavy as Lena finishes up her preparations to take on business as usual. It becomes clear that Lena won’t be the one to break the silence, so Kara attempts to.

“Uh,” and what a great start that is. “The DEO called us in.”

“Us?”

“Y-yes.”

“I have to admit,” Lena turns to lean against the sink counter, crossing her arms. “I’m surprised I’m wanted there. Especially considering Agent Danvers’ behavior earlier.”

Okay, so she has Kara there, but, “I-I want you there. And I think you could provide some… perspective.”

“Perspective,” she echoes, her mouth twisting in a way that Kara can’t read, especially since it disappears quickly. And Kara hates it. Hates that there’s a distance between them again. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll go with if that’s what you want.”

“It is.” The tone of their discussion feels weird. Like Kara’s solving a puzzle with an uneven number of pieces and no guidelines. Or maybe she’s just overthinking. “We can go now?”

Lena’s brow raises further, her eyes raking Kara’s form. She fights not to squirm, but she can’t resist fidgeting with her glasses—except they’re not there. She ends up nearly scratching the bridge of her nose and fumbles to right the action, the tips of her ears heating. And she ducks her head away from blue-green eyes.

“You should probably change first.” Lena’s voice, despite her scrutinizing gaze, is soft.

“Oh, right, yes, just one sec—” she speeds away and, blink-and-you-miss-it, she’s back. Even though she’s in her uniform, it feels the most non-Supergirl she’s ever felt. Especially when Lena blinks up at her, startled. “Um. Should I—will you—may I fly you there?”

“Wouldn’t it be best to drive there? To remain inconspicuous.”

“Oh yeah, that’s… that sounds good.”

…

anxiety, tossing, turning in your sleep

even if you run away, you still see them in your dreams

it’s so dark tonight, but you’ll survive, certainly

…

It probably would have been an odd sight: Supergirl in the passenger seat of Lena Luthor’s car. It would have been, but when you’re Lena Luthor, you don’t drive around without tinted, bulletproof windows. It’s a small comfort, but the drive is rather… the opposite. It’s silent save for the times Kara provides directions. And the silence isn’t the nice kind that blanketed them before.

This time around, it’s awkward and heavy. Kara fidgets with her own hands, wringing and tugging them in her lap. She bites her lip as she tries to muster up the courage to say something. From her peripheral, Lena’s profile is painfully beautiful, but it’s a lot like when they first met. Lena, painfully beautiful and just in pain, period. And just like then, Kara’s part of the reason why.

Lena, I’m sorry I hurt you. She plans out what she wants to say, determined to not get it wrong. I never meant for this to happen. I wanted to tell you but—

“We’re almost there,” Lena speaks up, startling her enough that she jumps a little. When she turns, Lena’s giving her a small and slightly disingenuous smile. “We’ll figure this out, Supergirl. Don’t worry.”

Kara opens her mouth; Lena, I’m sorry right on the tip of her tongue. But her throat clogs up, and she just nods. In no time, they arrive at the gate of the DEO headquarters, and Lena’s attention is grabbed by a tap to her window. They’re let through without a problem to the inconspicuous packing factory serving as the DEO’s front. Kara mumbles through her directions to the underground parking structure.

Lena exits the car as soon as it’s parked, leaving Kara fumbling to follow. She goes to lead the way to the main part of the headquarters, her hand twitching to take Lena’s hand, but she keeps herself from doing so, uncertain how the touch would be received. And she wouldn’t be able to stomach it if Lena flinched away from her. During the walk, Kara can feel Lena’s eyes on her, and although Lena doesn’t look away when she turns, her expression tightens just marginally.

She doesn’t know what to do with that information.

Alex and J’onn meet them in the main room, immediately escorting them to a more private conference room. It’s clustered with a couple of agents (Vasquez and Demos among them) who aid Winn and Brainy with marking and collecting data. Several others scurry around, trying to organize the papers and folders strewn on the table. There’s a lot of noise in the room. Too much for the enclosed space around them. And Kara stiffens when all eyes turn toward them, toward her.

But they slide off as J’onn steps forward to rein in themes of the situation. Kara relaxes minutely with the attention off of her. It doesn’t take away from the fact that she is at the center of… this debacle. Alex rests her hand against her shoulder, a grounding touch that encourages her to take a breather before plunging into the situation. Lena brushes past her but not without pausing to deliver a squeeze to her elbow, a gesture that settles warmly in her chest.

“What do we have?” Kara murmurs.

“Not a lot,” Alex admits, frowning severely with her worry over the situation. “Nothing has come up yet.”

“Not even from the reporters?”

“No. Brainy and Winn have been trying to track down the source, but nothing has come out of it. Yet. ”

Yet. Kara repeats in her head, clinging to the optimism that Alex (of all people) has. Her sister gentle nudges her forward to take a seat as J’onn calls everyone to gather. She takes a seat near the head of the table, right across from Lena who looks at her carefully before turning away. Alex and the director stand at the front, arms crossed as they address the room.

“As you may know, Supergirl’s identity has been compromised.” J’onn doesn’t beat around the bush. “All articles reporting on the situation have stated that the ‘tip’ came from an anonymous source. And the more—let’s say—credible news companies followed up on the tip. Which is where the facial recognition software comes in. We’ve been covering our tracks all day, but we have yet to name a likely suspect. Any ideas?”

And it sucks. It sucks because as soon as the question comes out of J’onn’s mouth, eyes immediately turn to Lena, suspicious and wary. It’s reminiscent of an earlier time; when Kara looked at her best friend in the same way. Lena, like last time, takes it in stride. Her chin lifts and she raises a pointed brow in defiance. And Kara, like she should’ve done back then, bristles in indignance; angry that Lena’s being suspected.

“Lena just found out, so we can strike her off the list,” Alex says dismissively, and it’s helpful yet not. Luthor, Kara wishes people understood, did not mean Lillian or Lex. It wasn’t equivalent to the vile things those two stood for. And speaking of Lillian—

“Lillian knows.”

“What?” Her sister frowns; very much not pleased by this news. “I’m sorry, I thought you said Lillian Luthor knows your identity.”

“I didn’t tell her! She just… figured it out on her own…”

It’s not exactly a defense, but it gets Alex off her back with a heavy sigh of exasperation. ‘Lillian Luthor’ is added to their list of suspects. Maxwell Lord also sits on that list, but he’s been conveniently absent for the past couple of years. So, Lillian is their best bet at the moment.

She turns to the one person who knows the woman best, “What do you think, Lena?”

Lena sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, posture still stiff from the scrutiny she received from the room’s other occupants. It’s lessened since Alex’s interjection, but that doesn’t change the fact that they still see her like they see the rest of her family. Kara’s heart twists, guilt settling heavy on her shoulders.

“If my mother really did this,” she starts, her words are drawn out slow and thoughtful, “then I don’t think she would play such a big card—one that she’s apparently been holding for a while now—without motive.”

“Well, obviously.”

“Yes,” Lena continues as if Alex hadn’t sarcastically agreed. “And what better way to distract than to reveal the name of National City’s darling?”

The room stills then like all the air has been taken from their lungs. Eyes grow wild with realization and looks are shared as they all come to the same conclusion. But none want to give it voice. A beat passes, and it’s J’onn who speaks.

“Lex is going to make a move.”

-

The DEO is even more hectic as orders are given out. While it may only be a suspicion, it’s well-known how crafty Lex and Lillian are, and any suspicion is worth being looked into when it comes to them. While J’onn and Alex lead the operation to secure Lex, Winn continues on his own mission to fix the situation regarding Kara’s identity.

“So,” he starts, fidgeting as all eyes turn to him. “Any ideas?”

“How about a press conference?” Lena puts in, surprising everyone by speaking up without being addressed first. She’s been silent for the most part. Observing. And now she’s not exactly looking at anyone, starting somewhere above Winn’s shoulder resolutely. She’s all businesswoman, pitching her idea to a board of investors. “Considering aliens use image inducers all the time, it wouldn’t be farfetched to claim that Supergirl has been using her confidant’s face.”

“That’s brilliant!” Winn enthuses, startling Lena with his volume. And Kara can’t help but sympathize. She’d been so in awe of Lena’s quick thinking that Winn’s shout had her leaving a hand-shaped indent on her chair. “And we can get J’onn to shapeshift into Supergirl and Kara, prove that they can be at the same place at the same time. Of course, we’ll have to get J’onn to adjust some of your physical features, but—”

“The public will be easily swayed, considering the message comes from the Girl of Steel herself,” Lena finishes much to Winn’s delight. He thrusts out a hand for her to high five. The motion startles Lena, and Kara watches fondly as the younger woman looks uncertain at the gesture. Winn takes it in stride, wiggling his hand around until Lena hesitantly claps her hand against it. It’s enough for him to beam at her, which honestly only seems to confuse her more. Her nose scrunches up—and it’s wholly adorable, even if her lack of experience with casual touch pangs at Kara’s heart.

“It would mean that Supergirl will have to wear an image inducer, but honestly, it’s something you probably should have done from the start.”

That last part is pointed at her with a rather shrewd look. And Kara can only nod sheepishly in agreement. While image inducers are a relatively new thing for the public, the DEO does have a prototype that Kara could have been wearing since she started working with them. But she was so confident in her own disguise—in Kal-El’s—that she ended up taking her appearance for granted.

“You’re right,” Kara smiles gratefully at them, at her friends who have come together. “I think this will work out well.”

“Yeah,” Lena murmurs, that careful expression back in place as she looks at Kara. “I certainly hope so.”

-

The conference is promptly held the next morning. And, as it turns out, it’s a brilliantly effective move.

Just as Winn and Lena had instructed, J’onn shapeshifts into Supergirl and he stands side-by-side with Kara in her civilian clothes as they talk to the crowd of reporters. J’onn isn’t the best actor, but he manages to deliver the message well enough for people to believe him. Kara’s amazed to see their efforts immediately take place. The headlines rack up quickly in support.

They believe every word that Supergirl says.

(“It’s because of that symbol on your chest,” Lena explains, smiling just slightly. “People see it and automatically assume ‘good’ and ‘trustworthy.’”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well, look at me.” Lena’s smile turns brittle around the edges. “They hear ‘Luthor’ and all they think is ‘Lex’ and ‘Lillian.’”

Instantly, she argues. “You aren’t your brother or your mother, Lena.”

“And you aren’t your cousin. But that’s not how the world sees us, Kara. Sometimes… you just have to take advantage of that. Especially when in your position.”)

Kara lets out a sigh of relief as headlines like We Owe You an Apology, Supergirl, and The Truth Revealed: Supergirl’s Secret Identity is a Bust are published. And although reporters still linger by her apartment, most people have dropped the topic. Over the next few days, the people move on to the next Big Thing as if the situation hadn’t happened. There are only a handful of people left discussing it, but Kara stays away from looking into it. The DEO has it covered anyway.

She stays away, period. As Kara Danvers, anyway. Officially, Kara Danvers has taken some leave to recuperate from the stress she was put under, spending time with her family who was harassed by people worldwide. But in reality, Kara’s still going out as Supergirl, fitted with the image inducer Lena gave her.

Lena, who has been nothing but supportive.

Lena, who she needs to have an important discussion with.

Lena, who she’s so, so scared of losing.

…

we can talk here on the floor

on the phone if you prefer

I’ll be here until you’re okay

…

In hindsight, she should have known that Lena would take to avoiding her. Her identity isn’t in mortal danger anymore and the incarcerated Luthors are under a microscope with how watched they are. Lena probably thinks Kara doesn’t need her anymore. But she does. She really does. She tries to convey this, tries to reinstate their daily lunches and weekly movie nights. But each request to speak or meet up is turned away with an ‘I can’t right now’ or ‘I’m busy right now.’  

Which, Kara understands. She does. Lena is the CEO of two companies and has a reputation to maintain and uplift. She put off days of work to help Kara stitch her life back together. But then Kara goes a week without seeing her best friend. And then another goes by. And Kara can’t, she can’t, leave Lena alone anymore. She manages enough courage to push against Lena’s boundaries, landing determinately on her office balcony, but her greeting is a tired sounding ‘I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry .’ And… and what is Kara to do?

So, Kara gives Lena time. But two weeks turn into three, turn into a month. And Kara finds herself at her limits, finds herself waking up in a cold sweat; the fear of losing Lena gripping her by her throat. So, she sends Lena a non-negotiable ‘We need to talk. Now.’

She doesn’t get a response, but the balcony doors of Lena’s office are wide open, very plainly inviting her in. She allows her boots to thud heavily (not too heavily) as she lands. She doesn’t want to spook Lena before they talk. Kara strides in, hands on her hips and her shoulders squared, ready to tackle the upcoming emotionally-taxing conversation head-on.

Lena sits on the chair adjacent to the couch ( their couch), slouching slightly. There’s a glass in her hand with a prominent lipstick stain on the rim—which speaks for itself because, as far as Kara’s aware, Lena has always been one to meticulously wipe away those marks after every sip—and Kara wonders how long she’s been drinking.

Unbidden, she thinks of Alex and the road of dependency she traversed not too long ago. And, like a mind reader, Lena puts her cup down and pushes it away, green eyes flickering her way as she does so. It surprises her how knowing Lena looks in that brief moment their eyes meet. Kara had only mentioned Alex’s battle with alcoholism once; it’d slipped one afternoon, and she’d immediately clamped up, clapping a hand over her mouth in panic. But Lena had had the decency to skip right over that particular tidbit and changed the topic, but it seems she didn’t forget.

(Lena never forgets anything Kara says.)

“I didn’t drink much,” Lena says, and then meekly adds, “Just a few glasses.”

“I wish you didn’t drink your problems away, Lena.”

“We all have wishes, Supergirl.” Lena waves off, slumping into her seat and slipping further and further away from her professional persona. “Save the lecture. It’s been a long day, okay? I just—we both know why you’re here. And I don’t… I don’t want to do this right now. Please.”

And that grinds Kara’s gears because Rao, she’s been patient. She’s been patient and trying her best, but she’s not going to give out without fighting. And maybe that ‘please’ tugs at her heartstrings, threatens to unravel her there and then, but she holds the pieces together just a little longer. It doesn’t matter that the shape of her heart is lopsided and collapsing in her palms with every passing second.

“And what about what I want?”

“I don’t kn-know,” Lena hiccups and oh, she’s definitely drunker than she appears. “I hon-honestly don’t know what you want, Supergirl.”

“I want to be yours!” The words burst out of her, straight from her heart and painfully honest—the most honest she’s ever been, actually. Her tears slip freely, uninhibited and raw as they slide down her cheeks. She twists her hands into the material of her skirt, not sure what to do with them. Her lungs hiccup with her sobs, uncontrollable. “I just… want to be yours.”

And although she may be admitting this to Lena, it’s the first time she’s admitting it to herself too. The first time she’s acknowledged her feelings. And it’s not some great revelation or something. No. Not really. It feels like common knowledge; like she has always known, but it was so obvious that she never took the time to acknowledge it. Not when she could spend that time in Lena’s arms, in her office, in her space.

(She could have had more if she had just taken the chance to be more honest.)

But now, her confession only seems to confuse Lena. The muscles in the woman’s cheek jump as her face spasms with all sorts of emotions that culminate into disbelief. And then it crumbles into a sad, sad thing as tears rush against dark lashes, streaming past the fine lines listlessly.

“That’s all I ever wanted too,” Lena finally says, and Kara chokes on a sob because wanted . Lena wanted , not wants. “But now, I… I don’t even know.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Lena has never looked more lost, her eyes unfocused and looking over Kara’s shoulder. Eventually, her gaze focuses on Kara’s face, a sort of resigned expression on her face. “I’m sorry.”

Taken aback, Kara stutters. “W-what for?”

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me.” Oh. Oh, no. Kara shakes her head rapidly, her protests garbled and uncoordinated. Lena shakes her own head, smiling that brittle smile. “What else could it be, Supergirl? I keep trying t-to rationalize why you… why I was lied to. A-And all I can think of is me. I’m the problem.”

“Y-you’re not! I swear—”

“Was it the alien detection device?” She continues as if Kara hasn’t finally spoken. As if she isn’t there, and Lena’s just musing to herself. Rationalizing, as she said. “Or maybe my name? The Daxamite Invasion, perhaps? I am the reason you lost your boyfriend, so it's not far-fetched. Or the kryptonite? God knows you hated that. And, a-all of those things have one common denominator, Supergirl: me. I’m at the epicenter of every disaster. Me. How can I not be at fault? I created an environment that didn’t make you feel safe to confide in me completely. I made you feel unsafe...”

“That’s not true!” Kara steps forward, knees wobbling as she stands in front of Lena; in front of all she wants. “ I decided to not tell you, Lena ! I did. It’s not your fault. Just let me explain.”

“I don’t know if I’ll believe you even if you do,” Lena chuckles, low and stilted, and still smiling falsely. “I want to but—I thought I could tell when you were being truthful and when you were lying, but I… I never really knew, did I? I never really knew you. I was a fool to think I did.”

“But you did! You do! You still do! I’m still me, Lena. Please believe me.”

“I want to—”

“And you will if you just—give me a chance to explain properly, please. Please. ”

Lena glances at the glass she’d pushed away with the overt desire for another drink on her face. But then she meets Kara’s pleading eyes and she sobers up slightly, her own eyes clearing up as she nods warily. And Kara finds herself stumbling through her words, but she tells her the truth. She tells her as she touches Lena for the first time in weeks, crouching and holding her hand tightly between both of hers, pressing the palm of it against her coat of arms. Against her heart.

“It’s not your fault, Lena. It has nothing to do with you,” Lena arches a brow, disgruntled, but Kara hastens to clarify. “N-no, that’s not exactly right. I told myself I wanted to protect you. Th-that knowing would only put you in danger. But the truth is… the truth is I was selfish, Lena. So selfish. You made me feel so special, made me feel like… like me. I never had to name Krypton for you to understand how I feel about the home I lost, and I never had to pretend with you. Every time I came to you, I knew you’d be my safe thing, my safe place.

“It’s why I came to you when those headlines broke. And I just—I wanted to keep you to myself for however long I could. Keep you entirely just for Kara. You may have known me as just Kara Danvers, but I never ever felt like ‘just’ Kara Danvers with you. I was just… me. Just Kara. A-and I was so afraid of losing that, of having you hate me, that I lied. I kept lying because I was afraid. I let fear rule my decisions. But I never meant to hurt you. I swear that to you, Lena. I swear .”

Her words peter off in breathy pants as Kara lays her heart bare, trembling in the aftermath. She looks up at Lena, pleading with her eyes when her throat clogs up. Lena still looks disbelieving, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, but there’s a gleam in her eyes that gives Kara hope, and she clings to that hope desperately.

“Please, believe me, Lena. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

“Okay,” Lena eventually says, no louder than the wind outside, but Kara hears her loud and clear. Her entire body slackens with relief, more tears spilling down her cheeks. “Okay,” she repeats.

“You believe me?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.” Lena shrugs one shoulder, looking uncertain but not disbelieving anymore. And Kara tries to hide her disappointment, but she knows her expression falls when Lena sighs. “I want to believe you. I really do. Part of me does. Part of me doesn’t. I need… time to process, Supergirl—Kara. Can I have that?”

“O-of course.” She raises their hands, pressing a chaste kiss against Lena’s knuckles. Her heart twists when Lena flinches. And she looks back up, uncertain again, but Lena’s in the same boat as her, the waters rocky and threatening to drown them. She lets go slowly, swallowing down her disappointment and chiding herself for acting on her desires. But Lena presses a hand against her tear-stained cheek, coaxing her to look up again.

“I don’t know what comes next,” Lena confesses, “but I do know that I can’t lose you either.”

And how could Kara not swell with hope then?

…

let your words release your pain

you and I will share the weight

growing stronger day by day

…

Time, it turns out, is a month. It feels excruciatingly long, even when Kara returns to her day job. And she realizes just how much time she dedicated to Lena when most of her nights are spent alone. She misses her. So much. No matter how much space she gives Lena, there are always moments where she thinks of her, where she almost texts Lena with an invitation for lunch or dinner or a movie, where she almost calls her just to hear her voice. She doesn’t do any of that, though. But Kara makes do with the photos she has, and the voicemails saved, and the texts from before.

None of it eases the ache in her chest.

-

Things don’t fall back into place once Lena is done processing. It’s not as easy as it once was before—well, before . But Kara reestablishes her habit of showing up at Lena’s office for lunch unannounced, and Lena starts coming over again for movie nights and even makes a few appearances at game nights. They still have their moments. But while some things remain the same, others are fragile.

There are times where Kara pushes too far, too fast, and Lena bristles and clamps up, away from her. Sometimes Lena says something biting that pierces Kara’s heart and makes her curl into herself. In the aftermath, they amicably separate to lick at their respective wounds, crying and yelling so they can’t hurt each other further. But they always, always , come back together with words of apology and affirmation; with comfort and honesty.

Their friendship is mending, slowly but surely. But neither bring up pursuing more yet. Well, no. Kara tries, but that’s a ‘pushes too far, too fast’ moment that results in Lena shutting her out for a good day and a half. But when they come back together, Lena sits her down, weary but truthful—

“When the time comes, I think that I would… love… more.” Lena tells her, her gaze unwavering as Kara looks at her, wide-eyed and hopeful.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she laughs, a soft but tired thing, and runs a hand through dark locks. And then the smile drops as she eyes Kara carefully, her voice still soft but not to be taken lightly. And Kara stills, holding her breath. “But right now, I can’t be who I want to be for you. With all that’s happened… sometimes I still blame myself. Other times I still think you’re playing me for a fool. And I know!” Lena arches a brow as Kara makes to protest, effectively quelling her attempt. “I know that you’re not, and I know I’m not at fault either. But… old habits, you know? I’m trying to… work past that.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Kara hangs her head, ashamed and guilty, but she holds it up again when Lena reaches out for her, a feather-light touch that skims along her jaw. She leans into it, seeking more.

“I am too,” Lena says. “Just… keep being honest, it helps. You just being here… it helps, Kara.”

“Good,” she grasps the hand tracing her skin, holding tight. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“You better not.”

—and Kara is careful to avoid similar situations from occurring. They both are, really. But Kara can’t help the way her heart thuds with every interaction she has with Lena; can’t help the heat that pinks her skin when Lena touches her; can’t help the hope that wrings her throat tight.

She wants desperately for the ‘right time’ to be soon.

But she should know by now that there isn’t such a thing as the ‘right time’ in their lives.

-

She’s too late to stop any damage from taking place, but she’s ‘on time’ to prevent more from happening. At least, that’s how Winn—in his attempt to reassure her in her earpiece—frames it. It doesn’t make her feel better though. Not when Lena is wheezing into her other ear, her breath wet and stuttering. And growing shallower with each inhale. Kara’s nerves spike higher and higher with panic, but she can’t push her speed any further. Lena’s already struggling. If she went faster, it just might kill her.

A group of hospital staff is already waiting for her when she touches down. She follows their instructions numbly, setting Lena down on a gurney, and Lena’s rushed away before she can even blink. For once, her presence is ignored. Supergirl, she realizes, cannot do any more here. But Kara Danvers can.

Unfortunately, Kara Danvers has to wait while Supergirl does one last sweep of the crime scene.

J’onn is quick to relieve her, transforming into her to maintain their story. He urges her to ‘do what she has to.’ Thankful and just about ready to break, she rushes to change and get back to the hospital. Get back to Lena.

The hospital calls her on the way. She answers with a distracted and bemused greeting. The words ‘medical proxy’ twist at her heart. At some point, Lena had trusted her enough to give her the responsibility to make decisions on her behalf when she was unable to. Her heart stutters. It speaks for itself that they’re asking her to come in as Lena’s medical proxy.

She gets to the front desk not long after the call ends, surprising the nurse stationed there. But the surprise easily vanishes once Kara jumps to asking about Lena—Where is she? How is she? Is the surgery going well? What have the doctors said? What’s the damage? —her pitch rising higher and higher and her words begin to run into one another. 

The nurse kindly and calmly answers each question as he escorts her to a waiting room near Lena’s operating room. Lena’s been in surgery since Supergirl dropped her off; she’s stable at the moment; the surgeons are on top of the operation; the doctors are optimistic; the bullet went through-and-through at her hip, and they’ve collected the fragments in her chest. The words alone do little to soothe her growing nerves. She plops down in a seat, head in her hands, and ears swiveling to focus on Lena’s dull heartbeat. She sounds so close yet so far.

Like she could slip from life’s grasp any second.

Like Kara could lose her at any moment.

A sob bubbles in her throat, and she barely manages to swallow it down, her lip trembling with the effort of holding it in.

It feels like a lifetime passes before someone joins her in the waiting room, sitting next to her. And when a firm hand lands on her shoulder, pulling, she knows it’s Alex. She collapses into her sister easily. Alex wraps her arms around her tightly, holding her together since she can’t do it herself. Her cheeks are already wet with tears, and soon enough, her hiccupping sobs and trembling shoulders join in. Alex murmurs something or nothing, the cadence of her voice washing over her. But it does little to drown out the memory of Lena’s gasping breaths.

“Kara,” she’d said. The only thing she would say. “Kara.”

“Hold on, Lee,” she could only think to say. “I’ve got you. We’re almost there. Don’t leave me, okay?

“Please don’t leave me.”

She prays to Rao ; asks Him to not take Lena from her.

He starts listening after Lena’s heart stops.

-

Kara doesn’t like hospitals. Even when she visits as Supergirl, she isn’t too fond of them—she’s visiting the people, not the building after all. Her least favorite part is the smell of them, a mix of blood and antiseptics (and the lingering odor of death on most days); it’s never pleasant. Especially since her senses are stronger than the average human. And right now, the air around her smells like that.

But with Lena’s perfume in the mix.

Another assassination attempt. Another . Kara doesn’t like that either, doesn’t like that Lena has to endure frequent attempts on her life. They’re ‘quarterly,’ Lena once joked (another thing she dislikes. She wishes Lena wouldn’t normalize them). And this time, the people behind the attempt aren’t Luthors (add them to the list too. Lena’s family sucks). The DEO is still trying to find out who is, though.

(“There’s a long list of people to go through,” Alex told her after Lena’s surgery had passed its toughest hurdle, frowning down at her lap. “There are people who loathe the Luthors and see Lena as just another Lex or Lillian. Then some people worship the Luthors and see Lena as a traitor to the ‘cause.’ Then there are people in between or on neither side with their own complicated motives. 

“And then there’s… her own family. I never realized that there is no shortage of people gunning for Lena’s life,” her sister admitted, and they both wince at the choice of word. ‘Gunning’ was not an appropriate choice considering the weapon used.

“Yeah,” Kara absentmindedly agreed, her eyes dry but tear tracks were still visible on her cheeks. “She’s amazing, you know. She puts herself out there despite all of that. She only ever wants to do good.”

“You’re right,” Alex squeezed her arm. “I’m sorry I ever said otherwise.”

“You were being cautious. It happens.”

“I was being overprotective.”

“Well, you said it.” They’re shoulders bumped, and Kara barely managed a chuckle.)

Lena is still sound asleep, her body working through the last of the anesthesia in her system. Her heart steadily beats in Kara’s ears, and her injuries aren’t visible. But beneath all the blankets—Kara practically swaddled her up, not wanting Lena to wake up cold—Kara knows there are thick, blood-speckled bandages covering the expanse of Lena’s chest and hip. And even though her heart beats again, and although the monitors may confirm as much, nothing can quell the fear wringing her neck.

Not until Lena is awake. Not until blue-green eyes up and focus on her. Not until she can hold Lena in her arms. For now, she has to settle for holding Lena’s hand—bandaged too, because Lena had scraped it when she’d tried to duck for cover—and watching over her. She holds her hand between both of hers and ducks her head in prayer.

She can’t stand to lose Lena.

They’ve only just started. No, they haven’t even done that yet.

But they will. She has faith that they will. Because even if Rao isn’t listening right now, she does not doubt that Lena is. 

-

Lena wakes at the end of the week. It’s brief, but it gives Kara relief like nothing else.

Her hand twitches beneath Kara’s, and the blonde snaps to attention, hovering over the bedridden woman as she presses the ‘call nurse’ button nearby. Lena’s lashes flutter as she struggles to open her eyes. Her gaze is still glossy with sleep. But when they focus on her, the haze clears and despite Lena’s sickly pallor, her expression brightens. Lena grins, lopsided and slightly dopey-- it’s the drugs.

“Ka—ra,” Lena slurs and struggles to say, grimacing with the pain that’s no doubt hitting her. Still, it doesn’t seem to deter her. “Kar—a.”

“I’m here.” She shushes her gently, smoothing a hand down Lena’s frazzled hair. Lena hums (practically purrs) at the touch, turning into it. “Save your energy, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Kara.”

“I’m here, Lee. I’m here.”

The doctors and nurses crowded into the room, but they work around her, having accepted that Kara is steadfastly not going anywhere. Even more so now that Lena is murmuring her name endlessly, still slurring and rolling it around. Lena starts slipping back into the grips of sleep as the hospital staff does their checkups. Her eyelids droop and then snap open as she fights against sleep. And she makes a noise of frustration, something between a whine and a groan. Kara barely manages to suppress a smile, finding it all endearing, but she determines that Lena should go back to sleep.

“It’s okay, Lena,” she whispers, kissing her temple feather-light. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“Always.”

…

it’s so dark outside tonight

build a fire warm and bright

and the wind, it howls and bites

bite it back with all your might

…

It takes about two weeks for Lena to retain enough energy to stay awake consistently. And then, soon after, she starts sitting up; slowly but surely and without assistance (most of the time). The pain still gets to her, but she’s needing the hardcore drugs—Lena snorts when she calls them that, but it succeeds in what she was hoping to achieve: it gets Lena to smile—less and less. Her road to recovery is a long stretch of time, but she’s already started down it. Quicker than the doctors anticipated too. They still keep her confined to the hospital though. They don’t want to risk her recovery by discharging her too soon.

Lena is not too happy about it, almost pouts which is a rare sight and Kara wishes she was surreptitious enough to sneak a pic. But her expression must give that thought away because Lena’s pout melts away into an I-know-what-you’re-thinking-and-you-better-not glare. Kara grins sheepishly but really just wishes she got a photo.

The younger woman’s mood sours as more time passes. She doesn’t snap or complain, but she does get grumpy and grumbles under her breath. And Kara finds herself desperate to cheer her up.

So, she ‘smuggles’ in some Big Belly Burger.

And like a charm, Lena instantly cheers up, digging in with vigor that Kara mirrors. At that moment, as they eat their meals and steal fries off each other, they both forget what’s ahead of them.

Of course, there are still conversations to be had and wounds to mend (physical and emotional), but they’ll get there.

Together.

-

It takes nearly another week for the doctors to all agree on discharging Lena. By then, Lena has started to shuffle around on her feet. Though she barely manages the distance between the bed and the door before she starts leaning heavily into Kara’s guiding arms. But it’s still as good a sign as ever that she’s going to be just fine.

The leading doctor for Lena’s case sits with them as she discusses the procedure of discharging her patient, reassuring Lena that she’ll be going home that day. “There are conditions, however—”

“Of course, there is,” Lena mutters under her breath, inaudible to the doctor, but Kara hears it loud and clear. She flicks her elbow in playful reprimand. Lena rubs her arm after a just-as-playful ‘ow,’ but she doesn’t grumble again.

“—we’d prefer if you had someone staying with you to just watch and see how you’re doing. Do you have anyone in mind for the job?”

“Yeah, Kara,” is the immediate answer. Said like water is wet. Like Earth’s sun is yellow. Like Kara’s heart is Lena’s.

The doctor hums before turning to Kara, an inquisitive brow raised. It takes a minute for the unsaid question to register, and even then, Kara’s still a little stupefied by Lena’s decision. She manages a ‘yes’ that embarrassingly cracks; the tips of her ears pink. The doctor nods and scribbles the information down without comment, but the corner of her mouth is ticked up just slightly in clear amusement. Lena’s eyes gleam too. Though, she doesn’t hold back from smiling lopsidedly at a flushed Kara.

They sign forms and listen to instructions attentively. Soon enough, one of Lena’s drivers—sweet, old Hector—picks them up. She helps Lena into the back of the seat, watching her expression carefully for any signs of discomfort or pain, but she finds none.

Kara climbs in after Lena, stiff in posture as she holds back from crowding Lena’s space. She’s still not sure where they stand. She’s still not sure if Lena actually wants her there. She thinks about how Lena wanted , wonders if that’s changed, wonders if she’s lost her chance.

She’s spiraling, she knows, but she can’t stop thinking. Her thoughts are loud and hectic.

Lena rests her head against her shoulder, and her thoughts slow. Quiet.

“Why did you choose me?” She finally manages to ask something . Lena hums curiously, and Kara rolls words in her head to best articulate her thoughts. “You could’ve called Jess or Sam to help you at home—uh, your home. But you chose me. Why?”

It’s silent for a little. And then, “Because I want you.”

-

Lena’s recovery is a slow and arduous process, but she steadily regains her strength. And Kara stays by her side throughout it all. She takes time off from her job—both of them—despite Lena’s protests that she doesn’t have to put her life on pause for her.

“I’m not,” Kara immediately says, nudging Lena gently; tapping her, really. She continues to tuck Lena into her bed—the one in her secret, second apartment where they’ve both been staying relatively in harmony—and ducks her head, fidgeting with her glasses as she shyly admits, “I just want to be with you. I wanna take care of you.”

For a couple of beats, there is only stifling silence as Kara holds her breath and waits. But when more silence follows, she anxiously looks up, expecting to see a strained expression on Lena’s face. She’s right. But there’s also pink dusting Lena’s cheeks though, and she’s worrying at her bottom lip. Kara stares at her imploringly, and eventually, Lena manages a strangled, but genuine, “Oh. That’s… that’s fine with me. Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Kara,” Lena clicks her tongue, fondly chiding.

“Sorry,” she laughs nervously, fiddling with her glasses still and trying to distract herself from the heat crawling up her neck.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Lena untucks one arm to reach for her—which does Kara grumble about because she just tucked her in—and Kara interlaces their fingers. She sits at her side carefully and fiddles with her hand, pressing at the joins and running her thumbs against cool skin. Lena watches their joined hands. “I want to take care of you too.”

Affection spreads through her like wildfire, but still, she scoffs in amusement, puffing out her chest and straightening her spine. “Lena, I’m Supergirl.”

“Not to me.” Lena instantly rebuffs, and Kara’s posturing vanishes with the seriousness she speaks with. “You may be Supergirl and practically impervious, but you’re no exception to being hurt. Whether it’s physical or emotional, you still get hurt. You may posture and smile endlessly, and you moonlight as the Girl of Steel, but that’s just a part of you. Not you in entirety.”

Kara’s already struggling to breathe, but it hitches further when Lena tugs their hands to her and presses a kiss to the back of hers. “I’ve seen the sadness that lingers behind your eyes like there’s something you’re missing, but you’d rather live in the moment. I’ve seen pain there too like you’re carrying a weight that’s just a hair from crippling you. I couldn’t fathom any of that, but I saw it. I saw a woman who could relate to the pain I’ve endured, and despite it all, she is the kindest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

“That’s what you see when you look at me?” Kara sniffles, wiping at her cheeks and upper lip with her sleeve. “Why didn’t you say anything? Ask me anything?”

“I wanted you to tell me,” Lena shifts, not exactly shrugging but it has the same effect. She squeezes her hand, shifting again until her head rests against Kara’s thigh. “I didn’t know about the Supergirl thing. I never suspected it. Or maybe I did, and I just didn’t want to see it. All I ever saw was Kara Danvers—or just Kara, I guess. I wanted to know everything about you, wanted you to tell me everything yourself. And I can’t pretend like I wasn’t hurt to learn that I didn’t know everything about you as you know me. It hurt. A lot. Especially considering the way I found out.”

“I wanted to tell you…”

“I get that, and the way it happened… it wasn’t fair to you. That’s why I couldn’t be mad then, and I knew you needed me more than ever too. But that’s a different discussion we’ll have later, yeah? I just want you to listen, if that’s okay.” Kara nods, not exactly disappointed but not satisfied either. “I just want you to know that it wasn’t the secret that hurt me. Everyone is entitled to their secrets. I just… It hurt that this one part of you, this part that you intentionally lied about over and over again, was enough for me to question everything else I knew about you.” Lena huffs out a laugh, low and broken. “I feared that the person I fell in love with was false.”

And that’s where Kara can’t just listen anymore. She grips Lena’s hand a little tighter, presses it to her heart like she did when they first talked about her double life. “I know I lied. You’re right, and that wasn’t… I should’ve never prolonged it as I did. But I promise you, that person? She’s real. I’m real, Lena.”

“And I believe you. Now anyway, especially considering…” Lena trails off and just waves down to herself. “And I’ve been thinking. A lot. And usually that is a dangerous thing,” they both share a smile, “but I realized that what you told me, about you being selfish, it goes both ways, you know. I want you to be mine. I’ve wanted that for a long time.”

“You have? Since when?”

“Kara,” Lena rolls her eyes, fond in her exasperation. “I filled your office with flowers and invited you to my gala when I barely knew you. I wasn’t exactly subtle.”

She flushes, heart drumming harsh enough that she’s sure Lena can feel it. And she must because her fingers twitch where they rest against Kara’s chest. “I thought that’s what friends just do.”

“I figured. ‘What are friends for’ was practically your catchphrase.”

“Was not!”

“Oh, it so was. Every time I thanked you and complimented you, it was all,” Lena pauses to feign a cough, raising her pitch as she mimics her. “'Oh, Lena, what are friends for?’ and ‘Of course, that’s just what friends do.’”

Gasping in mock offense, Kara swats at Lena’s shoulder. “I do not sound like that!”

“You so do.” Lena laughs, bright and uninhibited, her nose scrunching under the force of it. And Kara smiles. It’s been a while since she’s heard that laugh. But then that laugh chokes off as Lena’s expression contorts in pain, a groan replacing the sound. “Okay. No more laughing. I’m being killed.”

“Lena.” She warns, frowning, and Lena at least looks sheepish. “You’re right though. You need to sleep.”

“But—”

“Nope! Sleep.”

“Fine,” Lena grumbles, but she doesn’t let go of Kara’s hand just yet. She doesn’t even attempt to even as she melts back into her mattress and the nest of comforters Kara made. “Stay?”

“Of course.”

Kara presses a quick kiss on her forehead, softening the blow of separating their hands so that she can speed through re-tucking Lena in and then into some pajamas. Lena blinks slowly at her when she returns—still not used to the casual display of her powers, but she’s getting there at least—and settles into her side of the bed. Her side. She’ll never get over that. They’ve spent so many nights together—the number only growing with recent events—so this has just become part of her nighttime routine now.

She loves it.

And speaking of love. “Can I kiss you?”

“If I could sit up, I already would have. C ‘mon, Danvers, do some leg work.”

“Oh, I do. Have you seen my legs?” Kara waggles her brows, but Lena just snorts fondly.

“I have, and as attractive as they are, we went to a cycling class together, Kara. You don’t exercise for shit.” Her cheeks flush hot, both at the compliment and at the unexpected curse word. “I’m pretty sure most of your muscles are just part of your biology under a yellow sun.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

“I hardly ever am.” Kara opens her mouth to (teasingly) argue back, but Lena raises a pointed brow, effectively making her hold her tongue. “Where’s my kiss?”

She laughs, “Right here.”

Kara leans over her, careful to not crowd her, and kisses her. It’s a chaste kiss, one that has her leaning back in for a second. And soon enough, it dissolves into more of a press of smiles rather than a kiss, but it still feels just as sweet. Just as addictive.

“ Rao, I love you,” she whispers against her lips, feeling the smile beneath her own grow. “I don’t know when I fell, but I do know that it wasn’t surprising. I think I’ve loved you for a while; I just never realized until I almost lost you. And then I almost lost you.”

“Hey,” Lena untucks an arm again but makes up for it by caressing Kara’s cheek. “You’ve got me.”

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” she kisses her again. “Always.”

“Always.”

And their always is tangible, held tightly between their hearts.