Chapter Text
Kara is floating. She is floating, and she is in pain. Sometimes it feels like she’s floating in a sea of pain.
It’s almost like flying, the few times she remembered doing it as a kid. But she’s very sure flying hadn’t hurt. Pretty sure. As sure as she is about anything right now.
It’s hard to hold things, while floating. Hard to steer, too, which makes her think for a second that maybe this floating is more like flying than she thought.
It’s not dark, wherever she’s floating. It’s more like there’s nothing there, like space doesn’t exist. She’s always been a little afraid of the dark, of being alone in it, trapped in it, the only thing left in her world, but this is different. She doesn’t fear this nothingness. There’s a peace. Or maybe just an ambivalence.
There are voices. She floats nearer, then further, though she doesn’t know why. One sounds familiar. Like home. It’s soothing, to hear it. She strains to hear what they’re saying but they’re already fading away.
The next time she floats close enough to voices, she finally places the familiar voice.
Alex. Alex sounds scared. Kara can’t quite make the words make sense, wherever they’re coming from, but she knows that tone. Knows she needs to fix it. For the first time since she started floating, she strains. She pushes herself, pushes at the edge of this nothingness. She needs to get to Alex. She needs to make sure Alex is okay.
——
The days and nights blur together even further, until even looking at her watch Alex can’t tell the time, because she doesn’t know if it’s AM or PM. It’s a liminal space here, underground, with no sleep and her nerves shot. Alex wonders if the city is still chaos under its red sun, or if it’s settled into a new normal, but she doesn’t have the energy to care. The yellow sun lamps have slowed the dying, but they haven’t stopped it.
There’s nothing left to do but monitor Kara and pray she isn’t missing anything. There’s so little they know about Kryptonian physiology, and much less about how that changes under a red sun, and Alex is almost scared to touch her sister, lest she inadvertently make things worse.
So, she sits in the chair next to the bed, trying to sleep just lightly enough to keep an eye on Kara, but deep enough she can keep going.
“Alex”
It cuts through the dreamy haze, and it sounds like Kara.
“Alex?”
Kara. Alex startles awake, and Kara’s eyes are open. They’re blue, so blue, Alex had already forgotten how blue and suddenly Alex can breathe again.
“Kara, you’re awake. How do you feel?”
But Kara looks at Alex with confusion. “How are you here?” She mumbles.
“You’re hurt,” Alex says. “There was a car crash. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
“No” Kara mumbles, growing more agitated. She tries to move, then winces in pain. Alex rushes to help, and then pauses - she has no idea what she can do in this situation.
“You’re okay,” she settles on. “You’re okay”
She hopes it’s true.
Kara’s face smooths just a bit and even with the bruises she looks so little, so much like the kid Alex still thinks of her as, that Alex has to bite her lip to keep from crying. Kara mumbles again, and Alex can just barely make out “-lab.”
“Kara-” Alex has had a lot of time - granted, not time when she’s at her best, but time nonetheless, to ponder what to tell Kara when the question of where exactly, they were and how exactly Alex had the connections to get them there, inevitably came up, but she’s got nothing. But Kara keeps mumbling and saves her from answering.
Alex leans in, listening as best she can to the mumbles, wincing at the pain in her voice, fighting back tears.
“How…get to my dad’s lab?” Alex finally makes out. Alex’s blood runs cold.
“What do you mean?” Alex asks.
“You’re not from Krypton,” Kara mumbles, her face tight with pain, her eyes unfocused, and for the first time Alex realizes it’s not just because of the pain.
Alex checks the monitors - Kara’s body temperature is high, even for her. Too high? They had no way of knowing.
“Kara we’re on earth,” Alex says, but if Kara hears her, she gives no indication.
“Rurrelahas,” Kara says. “shem rrosh khuhp w rurrelahas bim .”
Alex doesn’t speak Kryptonian but she remembers these words from Kara’s nightmares when she first arrived on earth.
“Kara, Kara look at me,” Alex tries, but Kara’s eyes are unfocused. “Kara, stay awake.”
She mumbles, agitated but subdued, like she doesn’t have the energy to be worked up anymore. Kara’s eyes slide shut again.
Alex tries not to cry. She doesn’t have time to cry. She’s busy. She has things to do. She needs to solve this. She needs to figure this out.
She’s still trying not to cry when the door opens.
“How is she?” It’s Hank.
Alex bites her lip and he doesn’t press her further, just waits.
“It’s a fever. An infection. She’s been protected by her powers since she arrived here, never had exposure to so much as the sniffles. But with the sun red-”
The heart rate monitor begins to beep. “Her heart is working overtime, trying to keep up with the fever.” Alex’s heart speeds up with the beeps. It’s all her fault. She was supposed to protect Kara. Her dad had told her to protect Kara.
“Alex, focus.” Hank says. “What does she need?”
“I don’t know. We don’t know much about Kryptonians. Anything I do, it just-”
“Pretend she’s human. What would you do?”
“Lower the fever.”
“Okay, how?”
“Naproxen, usually.”
“Then do that.”
Alex nods, and sets to work. She injects the IV with only the slightest tremble in her hand, then she holds her breath.
Kara breaths, slowly, ragged, but she breathes, and Alex breathes with her. The heart rate monitor alarms lower, then finally turn off entirely. Alex breathes but her breath is still caught in her throat, because the ship is still taking on water and the end is nowhere in sight. The hope she clung to that they would capture Lex and solve this is gone - he’s in a cell and Kara is still here. More fragile than ever.
Hank opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, and Alex is ready. She’s ready for platitudes and empty words of encouragement. She’s ready to grab any lifeline he’ll throw her. She wants to ask for it - tell me lies.
But he closes his mouth wordlessly, and when he pats her on the back before he walks out the door, it feels like condolences as much as encouragement.
Alone with her unconscious, dying sister, Alex finally cries.