Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Is that all?” Lena asked with a mild sigh. “Because I still have a lot of work to do and I’d really like to get to bed at some point tonight.”

“I think we should talk about this,” Kara said.

Lena raised an eyebrow. “We just did.”

“No, I mean, like, actually talk,” Kara said, shifting her position on the couch to press closer. “Like, have a real discussion. Because I just told you something that’s—”

“No,” Lena said shortly. “I have my priorities in check and this—” she dropped her gaze back down to her tablet, “takes precedence, I’m afraid.”

“… Seriously?” Lena remained silent and still. “Wait, are you really saying that your work is more important to you than our friendship?”

Lena had to laugh then, the sound bleeding from her mouth all hollow and bitter. “The truth is, Kara, I should have known that you were lying to me. Because in the end, everyone that I…” Lena paused, swallowed hard and tried again, “Because everyone… that I love? They lie to me. They always do. Why would you be any different?”

Though she had just barely managed to keep her voice from faltering, Lena felt the implicit stumble somewhere deep in her chest. Because this would be as close as she would ever get—to the truth, to confessing her own terrible secret, even to herself.

“Lena, I love you too,” Kara immediately replied, and Lena’s heart unfortunately stuttered between hope and caution. “You’re my best friend. You’re like… a sister to me, and, and—”

Lena laughed again, this time slightly hysterical with one hand outstretched, because just how many times could a heart break in a single night?

“Please…” Lena said, biting down on her tongue so as not to say Kara’s name in the moment. “Let’s not.”

“But we should really talk.”

“I said no.”

There was a prolonged silence, only disturbed by the steady click of Lena’s nail tapping against the blank tablet screen, until eventually, Kara pulled back. “Fine,” she said.

Kara climbed to her feet, fixing her shirt as she stood, gradually disappearing the crest of El—both brazen and unbearable—one button at a time.

“Not that way,” Lena said when Kara finally turned to leave. She inclined her head toward the windows, and it took only a moment for Kara’s eyes to harden with realization.

“I came to your apartment as Kara Danvers.”

“And you’ll leave as yourself,” Lena replied coolly.

“Lena…”

Lena spared one last glance for Kara, leveling her gaze with one that was now familiar twofold. She weighed the slight tremble to Kara’s voice against her own heavy, heavy heart, before promptly directing her attention back to the blank screen on her lap. It wasn’t long before she heard the soft shuffle of footsteps, circling around the couch and headed toward the back windows.

“Also, Supergirl?” Lena called out, and the response was only a subtle flinch spied from the corner of her eye. “I think it’s best if we kept our relationship strictly professional from now on.”

Kara didn’t reply. Her breath only grew heavy and ragged, as if her throat couldn’t possibly hold back everything she needed to say. But still, in the very end, the Girl of Steel managed to take her leave without having let loose even a single word. She just stepped out and disappeared into the nighttime air, leaving the window wide open behind her. 

Lena waited and waited until she could convince herself that Kara was safely out of earshot before she flung her tablet across the room and cried.

//

A familiar pattern of bee-bee-beep! bee-bee beep! broke through the heavy fog of sleep and alcohol still gathered behind Lena’s throbbing forehead. She fumbled for her ailing phone, knocking over a glass of a water and her watch off the nightstand in her blind efforts.

Peering down at the vibrant screen with one bleary red-rimmed eye, Lena dismissed the alarm, only to find 12 missed calls and 22 unread messages waiting for her. She scrolled through the notifications, keeping track of what needed her immediate attention and what could be handled by her assistant. When she came upon a text from Kara—one that had been sent so late in the night that it could have passed for early this morning—Lena deleted it without reading. Her heart was too tired to even skip a beat or react.

Despite the persistent nausea and a splitting headache that threatened to cave her entire forehead in, Lena managed to ready herself for work with the usual lack of fanfare, and before long, she was messaging her driver to pull around.

She got into the car with her eyes still glued to her phone, typing out some last-minute notes for an upcoming conference call, determined to stay focused to the best of her abilities for the entirety of her morning commute.

Then the driver greeted her.

“Morning, Miss Luthor!”

Already frowning, Lena snapped her head up and came face-to-face not with her usual distinguished yet soft-spoken driver, but someone new and chipper who couldn’t possibly be a day over 20.

“You’re not Frank,” she said.

“Oh, yeah, nope. The poor guy’s unfortunately out with the flu, so I’m taking over his duties for now,” the driver explained, his tone far cheerier than warranted given the subject matter and early hour. “I’m Charlie!”

“I see.” Lena made a mental note to arrange for a fruits basket and a get well soon card to be sent to Frank’s address before continuing, “Well, Charlie, I’m actually running a little late today, so any rush would be much appreciated.” Then she grimaced and touched a hand to her troubled stomach. “But not bumpy. If you could. Please.”

“Make it fast, but not choppy. You got it, boss,” Charlie said, snapping a quick salute as he carefully pulled out of the parking garage. “Oh, hang on, let me get the entertainment goin’ for you!” He fiddled with the radio, flipping from station to station without much care.

“—the studio of NCU-98! It’s currently 8:07 this bea-utiful Monday morn—”

“—to change the scripts in their head. One technique that's often used—”

“—ank you, next (next). Thank you, next (next). Thank you, ne—”

“—and traffic reports a five car pile-up on the 54, but luckily, Supergirl was—”

The resulting flinch was so violent that Lena felt everything above her shoulders protest in unison. “No,” she said sharply. “Turn that off. Turn that off now.”

Charlie widened his eyes at her from the rearview mirror. “Oh, uh, not a fan of the T-Swizzle, huh?” He gestured at the radio, which was now playing a pop song that Lena had not the wherewithal nor the interest to recognize. “Sorry, boss…” he said, quickly shutting off the music.

“It’s fine, Charlie. I would just prefer it if we kept the noise to a minimum,” Lena said, rubbing at her forehead with a sigh. “I just need a little peace and quiet to prepare for the day. You understand.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah!” Charlie then dropped his voice to a stage whisper, “Not a problem, boss!”

With that, Lena was granted almost five whole minutes of precious silence before her phone rang. Lena’s stomach immediately went cold, somehow certain that Kara had ascertained yet another way to ruin her life by contacting her out of hand. It was an enormous relief to see the contact for her head of security flashing across the screen instead.

“Yes?”

“Get Frank to pull around to the back entrance,” Eric said without any preamble. “The front doors are mobbed with protestors today.”

“You’re joking.” Lena dug a knuckle into her tender temple, the pounding seemingly only getting worse with each passing second.

“No, ma’am,” Eric replied, gruff and humorless as ever. “Back entrance. I’ll meet you there.”

Lena hung up with a heavy sigh before relaying the directions to Charlie, who annoyingly took the change of plans with an easy okie dokie! and the brightest grin. It shouldn’t have bothered Lena so, and yet her irritation swiftly developed into full-blown apprehension. The driver was a dirty blonde and his eyes weren’t even blue, but suddenly the luxurious, roomy backseat felt cramped and the town car was far too small to contain all of Lena’s feelings and exhales. By the time the car pulled up to the curb for the final stop, Lena was already halfway out the door and stumbling.

“I need a new driver,” she said as soon as Eric sprang to her side.

“What’s wrong with Frank?” he asked, escorting Lena toward the building with a gentle hand to her back, eyes firmly trained over his shoulder.

“It’s not…” Lena just shook her head. “Never mind. How long have the protestors been here?”

“Since seven. I’ll deal with them if they try to stay past noon.”

“Are they hurting anyone?”

Eric shook his head. “No, they’ve been exceedingly non-violent.”

“Leave it then,” Lena said. “They’ll tire themselves out eventually and it’s not worth all the trouble of possibly incurring a lawsuit. But if anyone decides that they’d rather be productive and actually try to get something done, tell them to schedule a meeting with my assistant just like everyone else.”

Eric gave her a curt nod, his much larger frame shielding Lena from view with ease as he ushered her inside. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye on them until they leave.”

“Thank you, Eric.”

“Just doin’ my job,” Eric grunted as he let the door swing shut behind Lena.

//

Lena accepted Jess’s greeting and her morning espresso with a small nod, trying not to gag as the heavy smell of coffee gave rise to renewed waves of nausea. “Do you have any Tylenol? If not, I’ll need you to go out and get some.” 

“Uh…” Jess rooted through her desk before procuring a tiny blue bottle from her purse. “Is Advil okay? It’s all I have.”

“Same thing,” Lena said with a sigh. “Actually, just give me the bottle. I’ll probably need the whole thing just to get through the day.”

“But the recommended dose is—”

“Fascinating,” Lena cut in, plucking the bottle from Jess’s hand. “Any messages?”

“A few confirmation calls for today’s appointments…” Jess said, reading off her tablet. “Oh, and one phone call from a Mr. Winn Schott, but he wouldn’t say why.”

Lena’s stomach lurched, twisting something terrible at the mere mention of anything—anyone—even marginally associated with Kara Danvers. “Ignore that one.”

Jess stared up at Lena with a bewildered expression. “S-sorry?”

“If it were really all that important, he could have left a message. Or come see me in person. Which reminds me…” Lena carefully set her gaze fixed somewhere above Jess’s left shoulder before continuing, “I need you to rescind the full access privileges for Miss Danvers.”

“Rescind,” Jess repeated slowly. “For Kara Danvers.”

“Yes,” Lena said, and thankfully, Jess was smart enough to avoid eye contact and drop any other follow-up questions. “Also, cancel all my morning meetings. And push my afternoon engagements until tomorrow.”

“Of course, Miss Luthor. Right away.”

Lena gave a firm nod before striding into her office, her espresso in one hand and the bottle of Advil clattering insistently in the other.

//

Lena spent the first half-hour of her workday trying to keep her coffee down, but it was an impossible task. Most of it just ended up in her wastebasket, the bitter taste made all the more so by its rather short stay in Lena’s body and subsequent regurgitation. The next hour was spent reading and re-reading the same expense reports before the splitting headache drove Lena to step away from her desk.

After taking and spitting out a few more sips of espresso, Lena rolled her chair to the other side of her desk just in time to see the rainclouds come in. She watched as they spilled over the horizon, gradually swallowing up the last of the sunlight, filling the bright stretch of sky before her with a muted grey. The entire thing was all just so fitting that Lena could almost laugh.

But she stayed put. Because even weather patterns that seemed to have been designed to mock her personally were worlds better than having a meaningful white couch within her periphery.

Work was much, much easier after that.

Nonetheless, it was only a little past noon that Lena allowed herself a small breather, finally having accomplished enough of her workload that she was able to step away from her laptop without feeing any residual shame.

“Any messages?” Lena punctuated her brusque question with a smart clack! as she set the near empty bottle of Advil onto Jess’s desk. “I’ll reimburse you, by the way.”

“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary, Miss Luthor,” Jess said, promptly straightening up in her seat and glancing down at her notepad. “There were a couple of investors who refused to reschedule, but other than that, you should be set for tomorrow. I’ve already emailed you the updated list.”

Lena just nodded. “That’s fine. Nothing I didn’t expect. Okay, thank you.”

“Should I order you some lunch?”

Lena grimaced. Though her stomach had now settled enough to perhaps function as intended, the mere thought of continuing a near daily ritual associated with Kara was enough to have it clenching all over again.

“Miss Luthor?” Jess prompted after a few tense moments of silence.

“I’m going out for lunch today,” Lena said, making the decision as she spoke. She could go somewhere a bit farther away. Somewhere without the persistent memories of Kara Danvers nestled in every corner. Preferably somewhere without a bar because self-destruction would, of course, only be acceptable after work hours.

“Should I send for your car?” Jess asked, but Lena was already shaking her head.

“No. Also, replace my driver.”

“Of course,” Jess said, even as she frowned. “Has Frank done something wrong…?”

“It’s not Frank. It’s some kid who…” Lena just sighed and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Just figure it out before I get back, okay?” She didn’t wait for an answer before disappearing back into her office to fetch her purse and coat.

//

Lena made her way toward the back exit.

Though Eric had texted her earlier, letting her know that the protest had long since broken up, Lena decided she wasn’t one for tempting fate today. Not at the risk of aggravating her already very sensitive headache.

Mulling over the very few places that might serve an acceptable kale salad within walking distance, Lena stepped out into the rain with the collar of her coat pulled up and an umbrella in hand. Within two steps, she felt the familiar press of cool metal against the back of her head.

Lena froze. “There’s cameras,” she said automatically in a clear, practiced voice. “You’re better off just running.”

“Drop your phone,” the man behind her ordered. He thumped the muzzle of the gun against Lena’s skull hard enough to make her wince. “Now.”

Lena let her phone fall out of her hand and the man kicked it away. The umbrella was next.

“I’ll send you the dry cleaning bill,” Lena said, trying not to shiver as the rain started to soak into her skin.

The man gave a low, raspy chuckle. “Always gotta have the last laugh, don’t you?” He then seized Lena’s arm, twisting it behind her in a grip hard enough to bruise. “But don’t worry, Lena. I’m not here to kill you.”

It wasn’t until her assailant began shoving her toward the parking garage that Lena lost all sense of composure. She struggled blindly, clawing at the man’s face and arm with her one free hand, digging her heels into the concrete and kicking out. Then by some stroke of luck, Lena managed to stomp on the man’s instep, prompting him to release her with a strangled howl of pain.

Lena scrambled away in a desperate attempt to put distance between them, tearing her skirt and palms in the process. But when she turned back to look, she immediately found herself staring down the barrel of a gun.

That was when the alarms went off.

“I told you,” Lena got out in a triumphant wheeze as the man looked up at the flashing red bulbs mounted above the doors. “Should have just run.”

“Goddammit, Lena,” the man growled, leveling the gun with Lena’s forehead. “I didn’t want to kill you.” He thumbed back the hammer and Lena’s stomach plummeted heavily. “Doesn’t mean I won’t though…”

“Listen, whoever you are,” Lena rushed out. She could almost hear the clamor of authoritative voices over the sirens and her own harsh breathing, but there was no way her security team would ever reach her in time. “You’re making a big—”

Lena jerked away with a heaving gasp, a hand clutched her chest, head and ears ringing as one. It took a long moment of catching her strained breath before she realized that the source of the ringing was just the usual bee-bee-beep! bee-bee beep! of her phone alarm.

Dismissing the alarm, Lena collapsed back onto her bed with a deep groan. Her headache somehow felt even worse than the one from yesterday, which made absolutely no sense because…

Lena sat back up in a flash, immediately touching her fingertips to her forehead where she could still feel the gun pressed against her skin. The brush of cool metal. The pressure. The slight thud and the click of the hammer being pulled back before…

But there was nothing.

Lena ran trembling fingers over her forehead and both her temples, and felt nothing but flyaway hairs and skin—smooth and unmarred. “Just a dream,” she murmured, dropping her face into her hands. “Just a fucking dream.”

Admittedly, it had been a very vivid dream with not only strikingly terrible, but terribly coherent details. But surely, that could all just be chalked up to Lena’s sinking heart and the half-drunk bottle of Macallan 25 still sitting on the coffee table, because of course that fiasco with Kara from the night before… That hadn’t been a dream. That was still very much a reality with rude reminders in the form of late-night text messages that Lena had to delete without reading in the midst of all her other notifications.

She went through the rest of her morning routine attempting to shake off this vague sense of déjà vu, but it was strangely persistent. The anxiety even drove her to choose a different set of heels and skirt from her dream—not the day before, but her dream, just a dream—and as silly as it felt, the change seemed to alleviate some of the unbearable gnawing sensation in her belly.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much Lena could do about the nauseous hangover threading through all her senses, except perhaps making promises she couldn’t keep about never drinking again for as long as she lived.

When it came time to contact her driver, Lena had to push through the slight pause, a hesitation so illogical that she would meet it head-on even if it killed her.

And so, just out of spite, Lena pocketed her phone as she climbed into the backseat of the town car, determined to speak to the driver, to look him in the eye and assuage all her unfounded worries by confirming once and for all that it would indeed be Frank awaiting her arrival at the wheel.

Except it wasn’t Frank.

No, instead of the familiar distinguished balding older gentleman that Lena had been expecting, she saw a different face altogether—one that was somehow no less familiar nor expected.

“Charlie,” Lena said, and though the name tumbled out of her mouth strangled and strange, the young driver’s face lit up with absolute delight.

“Yep, that’s me!” Charlie snapped a quick salute in the rearview mirror. “Nice to meet you, Miss Luthor! Frank called in sick today, so I’ll be taking over his duties for the week.”

“Is he all right?”

“Oh, yeah, totally! Just the flu,” Charlie said, in a tone surely meant to reassure though it ended up doing just the opposite for Lena. “Well, off we go!”

Lena sat stock-still in the backseat, clutching at the hem of her skirt so tightly that her knuckles started to ache and go white.

“How’re we feeling today, boss?”

“Fine,” Lena said, her throat dry and scratchy and raw.

“Okay… Do you mind if I turn on some music?” Charlie asked, though his fingers were already on the dial, shifting from channel to channel.

“—this bea-utiful Monday morning, with the highs in the upper 60s. A little—”

“—that’s often used is CBT, cognitive behavioral therapy. The idea is to—”

“—ank you, next (next). Thank you, next (next). I’m so—”

“Stop,” Lena’s voice cracked slightly, but the command was enough to grab Charlie’s attention. He shot a surprised look in the rearview mirror, then grinned wide.

“You’re a fan of Miss Ari? Wow, I never would have guessed!” he said brightly. “Yeah, sure, I’ll leave this on for you.” He raised the volume and flashed a quick thumbs up at Lena, which she grudgingly accepted with a nod.

But that wasn’t it.

That couldn’t be it, considering Lena had never heard of this song until she was briefly exposed to it the day before, in her dream. But for reasons she couldn’t exactly pinpoint, Lena knew that this repetitive pop track would be better than whatever was waiting for her on the next station. Which made no logical, rational sense.

Anxiety buzzed beneath Lena’s skin, just waiting and waiting and waiting. It felt like she was underwater, like she was holding her breath in anticipation for something she didn’t even realize she’d been expecting until it happened.

Lena’s phone rang.

It took only a quick glance and a sinking heart to confirm that she was getting a call from the head of her security team. Lena shut her eyes and took the call.

“Yes, Eric?”

“Get Frank to pull around to the back entrance. The front doors are mobbed with protestors today.”

Lena’s entire hand went numb.

“… Miss Luthor? Did you hear me?” Eric’s gruff voice trickled into Lena’s ear through a translucent film. “I said that there are pro—”

“I got it, Eric,” Lena said, her voice suddenly hoarse. She cleared her throat. “I—I’ll tell the driver, thank you.”

Charlie took to the new instructions with a hearty okie dokie!, which only set Lena’s nerves closer to the edge, and suddenly, the backseat was claustrophobic in a way that was both too familiar and not.

When the car finally came to a stop, Lena made no move to get out. She sat frozen, with one hand on the door and the other trembling in a tight fist. Charlie shot her a nervous glance through the rearview mirror before turning to fix that same nervous expression on Lena’s steadily paling face.

“Uh… We’re here, Miss Luthor.”

Lena wanted to nod or flash a quick smile, something small to let the driver know that she understood, but for some godforsaken reason, she just couldn’t. But then, the car door swung open and it was out of her hands along with the decision.

“Apologies, Miss Luthor,” Eric said, grabbing her arm. “But we should really get you inside as quickly as possible.”

He gave Lena’s arm a firm tug, and after an initial squeak of surprise, Lena allowed herself to be led out of the car.

“Are you okay, Miss Luthor?” Eric asked. Even with his head whipping around this way and that, Lena could see the concern etched into his hard features. “You seem kinda out of it today.”

“What?” Lena blinked, then slowly shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Just having the strangest day.”

“Strange how?”

“Just… off, in a way.”

Eric grunted rather noncommittally. “The protests should be dispersing in a few hours. Unless you wanted me to handle it?”

“No… No, that’s okay. It’s, yes, it’s okay.” Lena just continued to shake her head from side to side as she stepped into the building. “It’ll be fine. I apologize again, about earlier. I’m just feeling a bit out of sorts today.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Eric said, letting the door shut behind Lena.

//

“Good morning, Miss Luthor,” Jess greeted her politely as always, but her courteous smile faded when Lena stopped at her desk seemingly just to stare at her. “… Yes?”

“Jess…” Lena hesitated. She knew what she wanted to say, what she was supposed to say, and yet… “Have you ever experienced déjà vu?”

“Uh… yes? Sometimes.” Jess gave her a small, calculating frown. “Why? Are you having some right now?”

“Yes,” Lena said very seriously. “All morning actually.”

“Well, they don’t really mean anything. Might just be something you saw in a dream,” Jess suggested, and that was all it took to sour Lena to their current topic of discussion.

“Do you have any Tylenol?” Lena abruptly asked instead. “I just have the worst headache right now, and…” She trailed off, stomach churning slightly as she watched Jess rummage through her desk only to pull a small bottle of Advil out of her purse’s side pocket.

“Is—”

“Yes.” Lena all but snatched the bottle from the assistant, shaking several pills into her cupped palm. “Thank you.”

“Oh, actually, the recommended dose is—”

“Fascinating.” Lena swallowed the handful of pills with a swig of espresso that she immediately gagged on and regretted. “Oh, Jesus…” She pressed a hand to her gurgling stomach with a small groan, just barely keeping herself from doubling over and revealing the contents of her stomach and her hangover in one fell swoop.

“Are you okay, Miss Luthor?”

“Fine,” Lena said with a grimace. “I’ll be in my office.”

“Okay, but um… wait, actually!” Jess flapped her hand frantically to reclaim Lena’s attention. “There are still quite a few messages you haven’t responded to yet, and some of the investors are getting kinda antsy, and also, there was a call from a—”

“Can you just go through everything for me?” Lena asked. “And forward me only the essentials?”

“Yes, Miss Luthor, of course.” Jess made a quick note on her tablet. “But you also have a meeting coming up in a half-hour. Is there anything you’d like me to prepare for you?”

Lena just waved her hand, already halfway inside her office. “Cancel it. Push it back. Whatever’s easier. Just let me have my morning. Thank you, Jess.” And she slipped into her office.

//

The first thing Lena did was throw out her coffee—lived experience or not, it just seemed counter-intuitive given how persistent her nausea had been thus far. Then she tried to get some work done, returning important correspondences, marking up reports, nervously clicking away at her pen until she caught herself and forced herself to stop.

Lena didn’t move her chair. She stayed put on the correct side of her desk and ignored the tell-tale shadow that spilled across the pristine white surface when the rain started to fall.

Noon came and went with Lena holding her breath… then passed without ceremony. And for some absurd reason, every moment that followed felt like an unwarranted blessing. Within the hour, Lena felt herself slump into her seat with a nervous titter, and little by little, breath by breath, the tension began to seep out of her aching body.

It seemed endlessly ridiculous after the fact. Like her life had been precariously suspended on a sharp pin for hours upon hours, only to culminate in this very anticlimactic moment. Already chastising herself for wasting so much time on such a production of nothingness, Lena swiftly gathered her bearings and began her work in earnest.

That is, until her assistant hesitantly stepped into her office a mere two minutes later.

“Yes?” Lena prompted without looking up from her laptop.

“I was just wondering if Miss Danvers was still coming by for lunch,” Jess said, as if it weren’t the most devastating thing she could have ever uttered in Lena’s presence. “She’s over an hour late, which isn’t like her.”

Lena missed the next few words as her vision swam. She blinked back the inevitable spike of heat and shook her head to keep it away.

“Do you want me to give her a call?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lena said, her tone somewhat clipped. “I’ll… be going out for lunch today.”

“Oh, were you meeting at the restaurant?”

“No, that—that’s not what’s…” Lena rubbed at her forehead, suddenly all too aware of her throbbing headache. “You know what? I don’t need lunch, so I’m just going to stay here.”

Jess scrunched her face up in a faintly amused frown. “You should have lunch, Miss Luthor. I think Miss Danvers would agree that—”

“Maybe I don’t care,” Lena snapped before she could stop herself. She sighed, avoided Jess’s searching eyes. “Maybe… I don’t care what Miss Danvers thinks today.”

“… Oh. Of course.” Jess dutifully turned her attention back to her tablet. “Should I order you some takeout instead?”

“No…” Lena sighed again. “No, you know what, I’ll go. I can’t—I can’t stay here right now.” She grabbed her coat off her chair and brushed her way past Jess before the assistant could even react.

“Wait, wait, it’s raining,” Jess called after her. “I’ll tell Frank to meet you out back.”

Lena stopped dead in her tracks before swiveling around on stiff legs. “Why?”

“… Pardon?” The corners of Jess’s mouth dipped in confusion.

“Why are you telling him to come around to the back entrance?” Lena demanded.

“The protestors…” Jess said slowly, her frown of confusion now bordering on bewilderment. “I know Eric gave us the all clear, but the front desk said that there were still a few stragglers in the area. It might be better to just avoid the main entrance for today.”

“Why? It’s not like a bunch of non-violent protestors will try to attack me,” Lena said, and she felt the implicit or worse in the icy, tight fist squeezing in her chest.

Jess shrugged. “It’s better safe than sorry, Miss Luthor.”

And yet, nothing about the situation made Lena feel any safer.

//

Lena briefly considered leaving out the front doors anyway, in spite of what Jess, Eric, or even her own common sense might have to say about it. But that would have meant venturing out into the rain, only to circle around the long way to meet her driver who would still be waiting for her in the parking garage, and that would have been a lot of time and effort wasted on paranoia.

So, in the end, Lena found herself walking down a hallway—the very same one she had used this morning upon entering the building and the very same one through which she had left the building to die in that unusually vivid dream of hers. But it felt justified because the alternative would have been admitting defeat.

It wasn’t quite clear whether it would be to her unfounded neuroses or to this still lingering, still ridiculous sense of déjà vu of hers, but Lena simply couldn’t stand the thought of giving in, of admitting that she was indeed scared to die. 

Though none of it felt unfounded or ridiculous once she was standing right before the exit.

Lena hesitated with her hand resting on the metal bar that was only a single push away from leading her outside. “… No. No. No, no, no…” She whirled around and took off in a brisk pace, getting about halfway down the hall before she could get herself to stop again.

Letting out an exasperated groan, Lena forced herself to double back, to drag her feet back to the exit, because she was not about let some irrational thought process rule her life like this today. With a short exhale through clenched teeth and her head held high like a Luthor, Lena burst through the door before she could second-guess herself.

Lena stood there, right outside the door, for a grand total of five minutes, squinting up at the steadily darkening clouds, letting the rain hit her face and hands and soak into her coat. She almost doubled over in a slightly hysterical giggle. Because nothing happened. And nothing was ever going to happen, and now nothing would keep her from scoffing at the very notion of prophetic dreams and a seemingly meaningful sensation that could only be described in French.

Lena managed to take all of two steps before something smashed across the back of her neck and a flash of white exploded behind her eyes. The impact sent her sprawling across the cold concrete, leaving her with her dress ripped and her palms and knees skinned and bleeding.

A muffled exclamation gradually filtered through along with her awareness, and Lena heard a man instructing her to get back on her feet in a voice that shouldn’t have been familiar. And yet.

“There’s… cameras…” Lena started to fumble through the script before she caught herself, already acutely aware of how that one would end. “You can’t kill me,” she said instead. “Whoever’s footing your bill would want me alive.”

Whether it was to convince the assailant, herself, or the fates that had decided for some reason that she should die today, Lena managed to speak with conviction. That much, she could still do.

The man’s reply was only a raucous cackle that petered off into a low mutter, “Oh, don’t be so sure about that…” He hauled Lena up by her arm, nearly wrenching it out of the socket. Cold metal nudged against the back of her head. Again. “Come on. We’re gonna go for a little ride.”

“No,” Lena said simply, letting her arms hang slack at her sides. “I’m not going anywhere with you, so you might as well just kill me here.”

She expected exasperation or even anger, but was instead met with yet another round of grating laughter.

“A stubborn little brat until the very end, huh?” The man dug the barrel of the gun into Lena’s head, the pressure enough to make her grit her teeth. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

With that, Lena found herself being forcibly maneuvered toward the dark parking garage yet again, and as much as she tried to struggle, she was no match for the iron grip around her arm. Then the alarms started to ring, the red bulbs mounted high above the doors flashing in warning.

“Come on, hurry up!” the gunman hissed, redoubling his efforts to shove Lena onward. But in his rush, he tripped over a simple curb that he had failed to notice and the gun slipped off Lena’s head to float just above her right shoulder.

Springing to action, Lena grabbed for the gun with her opposite hand. She yanked on the muzzle with all her might, pulling it toward her cheek, and—

—nearly fell out of her bed, gasping, the routine bee-bee-beeps! of her alarm only heightened by the deafening ringing in her right ear.

She turned off the alarm, then glanced down at her left hand as if expecting to see… what? A burn? A red mark? Some kind of brand left by a pistol going off in her hand perhaps? But, of course, there was nothing of the sort because everything—every single preposterous scene that was now running through her head—had, of course, just been a part of a very elaborate, clearly fantastical dream.

Lena continued to remind herself of this fact as she went about her usual morning routine. Brushing her teeth, applying makeup with numb fingers, dismissing all her notifications while deleting one message in particular without reading for reasons she really didn’t have the mental capacity to consider right now. And once again, Lena opted for a different outfit—both from her dream and the dream that she had thought to be a dream—which might have been illogical, but what if, what if, what if?

//

“Who sent you?” Lena demanded, and Charlie jumped in his seat, treating her to a rather bewildered look. She rapped her knuckles on the passenger side window until he rolled it down. “Who sent you?”

“Uh… the car company did…?” Charlie said, brow furrowing. “I mean, it’s under one of L-Corp subsidiaries, so I guess technically—”

“I know how the car service works,” Lena cut in with a growl. “I just want to know why you’re the one I keep seeing even though I’ve never seen you before! Ever!”

Charlie blinked a few times. “Well, it’s nice to meet you then. I’m Charlie. I’m filling in for Frank while he’s out sick.”

“I know. I know, I know, I know…” Lena deflected the young driver with an agitated wave when he tried to stick his hand out the window for a handshake, instead turning away to cover her face and groan, “What the fuck is going on…”

After a long pause and a few pointed hums, Charlie cleared his throat. “Miss, uh, Miss Luthor? Don’t you want to get to work?” he asked slowly. “I was told to stick to the schedule, and I’m not sure if this… is part of that schedule, but I don’t think it is? And maybe we should hit the road soon.”

Lena let out another groan, exasperated and loud enough to make Charlie shrink back. “Fine! Fine, I’ll go to work because that’s apparently where I’m supposed to be, right? Right?”

“… Right you are, boss,” Charlie said, avoiding Lena’s eyes as she got into the car and slammed the door behind her. “Okay… Here we go now…”

Arms crossed, fingers drumming against her skin in an impatient rhythm, Lena stared out the window though nothing really seemed to register. After a few painfully awkward moments, Charlie cleared his throat.

“Uh, miss boss? Do you mind if I turn on the radio?”

“Do I even have a choice?” Lena retorted with a dark scowl.

“I mean, we don’t have to listen to anything,” Charlie said hastily. “Awkward silences just give me a tummyache, so…”

“Fine, fine, turn on the radio then.”

Charlie scratched the back of his head with a forced chuckle. “You know what? This isn’t so bad. I can totally deal, no problem.”

“Turn it on,” Lena snapped, and Charlie promptly hit the dial before swiftly returning his hand back to the wheel.

“—upper 60s. A little gray, a little cloudy, but only a very slight chance of showers, so you probably won’t need your umbrellas till well after the sun goes down—”

“Hah! As if,” Lena said, apparently only to herself because Charlie made no sign he’d heard her besides sinking further into his chair. She continued to fume silently in the backseat, arms still crossed, only blinking and breaking the reverie when—like clockwork—her phone rang.

“Protestors,” Lena barked into her phone, accepting the call without looking.

“You saw the news.”

“Nope! But I’ll tell Charlie to pull around back.”

“Who’s Charlie?” Eric asked

“I don’t know,” Lena said in a growl before hanging up and glaring out the window once more.

“… I’m Charlie,” the driver said softly, after several beats of strained silence, but Lena ignored him.

She continued to ignore him as they finally pulled up to the back entrance for the third time, where she promptly hopped out of the car without another word or spare glance.

//

“Jess, I need your Advil,” Lena said, cutting off the assistant’s polite greeting. “Purse. Side pocket.”

Though clearly taken aback, Jess nevertheless did as she was told and produced the small blue bottle with some surprise. “Oh! I didn’t even know that was there…”

“Thank you,” Lena said as she took the bottle. “Jess, I need you to cancel all my work obligations for today.”

Jess stared up at Lena, eyes rounding in surprise. “Cancel… all of them? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Just reschedule everything for tomorrow.”

“I… can do that, yes…” Jess slowly fumbled for her phone and tablet. “But what about everything that’s been scheduled for tomorrow?”

Lena shrugged, which only seemed to worsen Jess’s shock. “Double-book them. It’ll be tomorrow’s problem and who knows if we’ll even make it that far, right? But for today, I’m taking a holiday.”

“A holiday? But... where are you going?” Jess called after Lena’s retreating back.

“Absolutely nowhere,” Lena said before disappearing into her office in a determined stride, door swinging shut behind her.

//

The first thing Lena did was swallow a handful of Advil with an entire bottle and a half of Smartwater. Then she occupied the rest of the hour by alternatively sitting at her desk and pacing wildly around the room. She checked the calendar on her phone on three separate occasions to make sure that it was indeed Monday, the very same Monday that she had been—living through? dreaming about?—experiencing for the past two days.

When the rain started to fall, Lena felt her exasperation dwindle and give way to that familiar anxiety now ratcheting up with her heart-rate. Her thoughts quickly became circular and irrational. She almost brained Jess with her phone out of pure panic when the assistant tried to give her an update about all the cancellations. Shaken and slightly embarrassed, Lena ended up asking Jess to just please not bother her for the rest of the day, then waited out the tail end of her unreasonably stressful morning with a death grip on her own elbows, nails digging in when her hands started to tremble.

Lena watched the clock slowly crawl past noon, her eyes fastidiously following the minute hand as it made its rounds. Eventually, it hit one o’clock. Then two. Then three. Then three-thirty… and nothing happened. Though Lena’s heart seemed to be beating thunderously between her ears, everything else in the room sat perfectly still.

It did occur to Lena at some point to ask her security team to check around back for possible intruders or would-be assassins, but never got around to dialing the number. She couldn’t bear to. Not when it felt like a surrender of sorts. Not when it meant admitting to something so ridiculous, so absurd that it was unfathomable even in a world populated with aliens, super villains, and family members who were hellbent on sabotaging and even killing her.

But nothing was happening, and with each passing hour, Lena felt slightly more at ease. She eventually settled on the couch, her current anxious preoccupations more than enough to eclipse that of lingering memories associated with a certain blonde reporter and superhero. But even then, Lena couldn’t quite bring herself to go so far as to close her eyes. Just in case. She was no stranger to attempts at her life, after all.

It was a little past five when a tentative knock came at the door, startling Lena out of her antsy daze. She stumbled to her feet, her hands already grabbing for the nearest object that could remotely pass for a weapon.

“It’s me,” Jess said, her soft voice muffled through the door. “Please don’t throw your phone at me again.”

“No promises,” Lena tried to joke, but her entire body was so wound up and taut that her tone couldn’t help but come out just as strained. “What is it?”

The door opened a crack. “I’m sorry, Miss Luthor. I know you said not to bother you,” Jess said. “But you missed lunch and I was wondering if you wanted me to send out for dinner.”

“Dinner… Jesus.” Lena shook her head, dropping her shoulders with a tired sigh. “Could you come in? It’s difficult to hear you with the door in the way.”

Jess timidly stepped one foot into the office. “So… dinner?”

“I’m not really hungry right now.”

“But you should at least try to eat something.” Jess’s eyes briefly landed on Lena’s fidgeting hands. “Especially if you’re planning on drinking.”

“Pardon?” Then Lena followed her assistant’s gaze down to her own hands, where she was inexplicably holding a bottle of Absolut upside-down by the neck as if it were a baseball bat. “Oh, this isn’t for drinking. It’s for bludgeoning.”

The words settled in the brief pause that Jess used to visibly work through some initial impressions. “I… see. But I still think you should have some dinner. Maybe Chinese? Or Indian? Or I could just contact Miss Danvers and maybe she could—”

“Don’t,” Lena said, so abruptly and sharply that her voice cracked. She then tried to laugh it off, ignoring Jess’s suddenly raised eyebrows. “Just… you don’t have to bother her about this. I’m sure she’s very busy.”

“I don’t think she’ll mind, Miss Luthor.”

“Jess, I said, no,” Lena snapped, and Jess’s face mercifully went blank. “I don’t want dinner. I don’t need food right now, but you’re more than welcome to get something for yourself. Or better yet, why don’t you just take off early today?”

“Take off early?” Jess frowned, though clearly tempted by the idea if the way she eagerly glanced down at her watch was anything to go by. “What about you?”

Lena just shook her head. “No. I… have a lot of work to do still.”

Jess glanced around the room. At the empty desk. At the laptop sticking out of Lena’s bag, still closed and clearly untouched. At the various pens scattered across the floor where they’d been tossed whenever Lena caught herself anxiously clicking away. At the bottle of vodka still clasped in her hands. By the time, Jess returned her gaze back to Lena herself, her frown had deepened into a pained expression. “Miss Luthor…”

“Go home,” Lena said firmly. “I mean it.”

Thankfully, the assistant just nodded and left with a small sigh, leaving Lena to curl up on the couch to somehow gather the remaining wisps of her peace of mind in the precious silence.

//

By the time 8pm rolled around, Lena’s level of anxiety had evened out into something much more manageable. Aside from her own uncharacteristic behavior, the day had been rather uneventful and extremely unproductive, and Lena had never felt so relieved in her entire life.

Lena messaged the driver to come around, already prepared to spend the rest of her night with a bottle of Bordeaux, getting a head-start on what was sure to be a jam-packed Tuesday—but a Tuesday, nonetheless.

“Evenin’, Miss Luthor. Nice to see you again,” Charlie greeted her with a hesitant salute. “Though, to be honest, I wasn’t expecting you this early. I was told that you usually stay well past ten on the weekdays.”

“Yes, well, today’s been a rather unusual day, Charlie,” Lena said.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Well, for one thing, I didn’t die.”

Charlie blinked and gave Lena a double-take in the rearview mirror, only to see Lena grant him a small tired smile. “Oh. Okay. Well, let’s get you home then, where you can continue to, you know… not die.”

“I’d appreciate that, Charlie.”

Lena scrolled through the notifications on her phone, noting the new project proposals, requests for deadline extensions, angry emails about all the abrupt cancellations, reminders for upcoming conferences, even more project proposals… But not even a single text in regards to her personal life. Which was fine. Lena could certainly live with that.

“By the way, do you have any preferences for music?” Charlie asked in a soft tentative voice. “I know you’re not really a big fan of the radio, but I got all the genres you could possibly ask for on my trusty lil’ iPod. Or silence works too, of course. You’re the boss, after all.”

Lena shook her head with a wry smile. “No preference at all. You can put on whatever you’d like.”

“For real? Okay!” Charlie perked up, his entire face lighting up with glee. “But you have to promise not to get mad if I start blasting Taylor Swift or something.”

“By all means,” Lena said with a small laugh. “As long as it’s none of her newer stuff, I’m game.”

Charlie whipped his head around, clearly about to engage Lena in some friendly debate about the merits of a much favored pop star, and that’s when Lena saw it.

Fire.

Bright red flames that swirled and stretched, blooming behind Charlie’s head in long curling tendrils. A flash of light immediately accompanied by heat, flying glass, and a massive thud! and a spark of—

Lena woke up screaming.

The ailing bee-bee-beep! bee-bee-beep! of her alarm broke through as soon as her voice cut out. Snatching up the phone, Lena hurled it against the wall as hard as she could, and the resulting crash brought her some remote satisfaction along with the silence.

“That’s fucking it!” Lena exclaimed to the empty room.

She scrambled out of bed, tripping over the covers still wrapped around her body, heavy with sweat. Swearing furiously under her breath, Lena tore her way through her spacious walk-in closet. Stomped all the way to the back. Right up to the covert safe with a passcode that she had hoped to never use, despite knowing that it was only a matter of time.

Pushing past various family trinkets and a stack of sealed documents, Lena found what she was looking for nestled in the back corner: a small .22 caliber Sig Sauer semi-automatic pistol. Slight, yet weighty and fully loaded.

Lena didn’t bother to change out of her pajamas before leaving her apartment, which was probably why the doorman gave her a double-take when she burst into the lobby. First surprised at the unprofessional state of dress, then even more so at the gun hanging by her side.

“Miss Luthor? Is everything all right?”

“Call my security team, Marcus,” Lena said, never slowing her pace. “And make sure they bring the bomb squad. Now.”

With a high-pitched squeak and nod, Marcus fumbled for his phone, nearly dropping it in his haste. Meanwhile, Lena shouldered her way through the exit, skidding into the parking garage where her drivers usually awaited her text in the mornings. It didn’t take long for her to spot the sleek black town car parked at the far side of the lot. She immediately started towards it, undoing the safety and gripping the gun with both hands just as she had been taught.

“Get out of the car, Charlie!” she roared, breaking into a slight jog. “Get out of the fucking car!”

The front door whipped open, two hands shooting out with the palms open and visible. “Miss—miss Luthor, I’m just your driver!” Charlie said in a panicked rush. “Frank’s out sick, he-he-he got the flu or something, and, and—”

“Get out of the car!”

“—and I’m just filling in! I swear! I’m sorry! They should have told you, but I didn’t think—”

“Out of the fucking car!” Lena slammed an open hand against the trunk a few times in emphasis. “I’m not asking again!”

“Okay! Okay, just please… don’t shoot!” Charlie gingerly stepped out of the vehicle, arms raised way over his head. His entire body was trembling. “I swear I’m just the driver, Miss Luthor.”

“Stop talking and pop the hood.”

Charlie blinked, his eyes glassy and wide. “The… the hood?”

“The hood!” Lena snapped, gesturing wildly to the front of the car with her gun. “Pop the fucking hood!”

“Okay, okay!” Charlie kept one hand up in the air as he reached for the tiny lever, his eyes still wide and fixed on Lena’s gun. At the tell-tale thump of the hood being released, Charlie shot both his hands right back over his head again.

“All right now, back up, back up,” Lena ordered, slowly inching forward. “And don’t you even think about moving, I mean it.”

Charlie did as he was told, stepping back with every step forward Lena took, until she was finally close enough to inspect the engine. Gun still raised high, Lena took a glance. Then another. Then she was frowning down at the mechanism because nothing seemed to be out of ordinary.

“Where is it?” Lena hissed at Charlie, her head snapping back up at him.

Charlie blinked down at Lena. “Where’s what?”

“You know what! The—” Lena stamped her bare foot in frustration. “The bomb! Where’s the fucking bomb, Charlie? Is it in the glove compartment, hm? Or under the seats? Where the fuck did you put it?”

“Miss Luthor, please… I have no idea what you’re talking about. You have to believe me,” Charlie begged.

Lena barked out a triumphant laugh. “No, no, no, no… Not when you’re the only new constant in my life for the past few days,” she said, shaking her head furiously. “So, here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re going to tell me where you put the bomb.” Charlie let out a sob of frustration, but Lena ignored him and pressed on, “Then you’re going to tell me who hired the gunman.”

“The what?”

“Then you’re going to tell me how the fuck you’ve been pulling this off,” Lena continued, completely undeterred by Charlie’s increasingly baffled expression. “Then… I don’t know. I don’t know! The police can take it from there. Or the FBI. Or the fucking DEO, for all I care. I just want this to be over.”

“W-wait, no. No. No, you can’t,” Charlie blurted out, panicked all over again, eyes alight with a new fear. “I’m sorry about lying to you. I just needed the work, I swear! But please don’t report me to the authorities. Please, you just can’t.” He dropped to his knees, arms still raised over his head, and Lena couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in question.

“What are you doing?”

“Please, Miss Luthor. I am begging you,” Charlie cried out. “I’m not on the registry. You can’t let them take me.”

Lena blinked. Her gun dipped slightly and she took a step back. “What registry? What are you talking about?”

“Look, I’ll show you. Just please, please don’t shoot.”

Charlie waited for Lena to give a reluctant nod before slowly, very slowly inching his right hand over to his left. He touched his fingers to his watch, and all at once, his face disappeared in a shimmer to reveal bright purple skin, slightly mottled and shiny, and raised ridges above each eye.

An alien.

A young terrified alien who Lena was just now realizing was wracked with sobs.

Lena dropped the gun, heard it clatter against the ground with a jolt of shame. “Put, put your arms down. It’s okay,” she rushed out in a stammer. “I’m—I’m not going to… It’s okay, just put your arms down.”

Sniffling, Charlie finally let his arms drop into his lap. He tapped at his watch again—a cloaking device, one of Lena’s older models, in fact, which she should have recognized—and the purple skin and ridges vanished, leaving behind only the tears still streaming freely down his cheeks.

“Please don’t let them take me,” he said in a low croak, and Lena wished right then and there that she could somehow just start this day over from the beginning.

“Charlie… I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Lena took a small step forward, but Charlie’s very visible flinch stopped her in her tracks. Jaw tightening, she stayed put and awkwardly cleared her throat. “I haven’t called the authorities. That was just something—well, it doesn’t matter. But my security team should be on their way, and I’ll let them know about the possible bomb threat situation, and… and you can go home.”

Charlie picked his head up. “You’re not going to turn me in?”

“No, of course not.” Lena longed to reach out and offer some comfort, but the gunmetal glinting up at her from the ground served as a constant reminder of why she shouldn’t. Of why she couldn’t. “I wasn’t trying to… I’m terribly sorry, Charlie, I just thought that…”

“That I was trying to kill you,” Charlie finished for her, eyes downcast once more. “Can I wait over there?” He nodded at a distant curb, about a good ten yards away from Lena and the car.

“Yes, of course. Just… just wait there.”

With one last grim nod, Charlie shuffled off with his head down, hands tucked deep inside his pockets.

//

Once her security team arrived, Lena gave a very short, highly inaccurate account of what had just come to pass. Though Eric’s frown made it abundantly clear that he didn’t quite believe the whole story, he went ahead and scanned the car for explosives at Lena’s behest. It came up clean, sending Lena’s stomach deeper into roiling guilt.

When Eric suggested the possibility of Lena working from home that day, away from the stress of the office environment—and all the protestors, he added, much to Lena’s chagrin—she agreed without hesitation. As long as Eric would spare someone to take Charlie home.

“Just make sure he gets home safe… He’s been through a lot today,” Lena added in a quiet voice, and Eric just gave her a smart nod.

Lena glanced over at Charlie one last time. He was still sitting on the curb, one leg bouncing, his head drooping and cradled in his hands, the watch glinting from a distance. The sight was enough to plunge Lena’s heart into shame all over again.

And though she desperately wanted to, Lena couldn't bring herself to apologize.

//

Safely locked away in her apartment, Lena recovered her phone, which was thankfully still functional despite sporting three new cracks across the screen. She called Jess to let her know that she wouldn’t be coming in to work today—her assistant didn’t ask any questions, for which Lena was eternally grateful. Afterwards, she powered down her phone and dropped it onto the coffee table facedown.

Lena spent the rest of her day holed up in her apartment, curled up on the couch with a blanket, still clad in only her pajamas. In one hand, she clutched onto her gun with the safety back on and her finger off the trigger, and in the other, she held the half-drunk bottle of whiskey. She got up exactly one time to close the blinds when the rain started to fall, hitting her windows with a slight pitter-patter like clockwork.

She never checked the time.

Instead, Lena just stared blankly at a rerun of some syndicated sitcom she hadn’t even heard of, taking intermittent sips from her bottle, and waited for the sun to go down.

//

Lena’s eyes snapped open, only to squint in protest at the cold, dry air. She sat up, wincing at the sharp ache shooting up the back of her neck as she took in her surroundings.

She was still on her couch. Her gun cradled against her chest. The bottle of whiskey tipped over on its side, spreading a brown stain across her cashmere blanket. And it was absolutely silent. Which should feel wrong… But then again, why would the alarm go off when her phone wasn’t even on in the first place?

Lena seized her phone, her breath held as she quickly powered it back on. The screen loaded too slowly for her liking, but within a few very long seconds, Lena had three sets of numbers flashing up at her. The time, the outside temperature, and the date… which honestly would have been proof enough, but it was the Tuesday tacked alongside the date that helped settle her from the inside out.

And just like that, Lena slumped back into her couch, overcome with relief.

She’d made it.

//

Lena took a taxi for the first time in nearly ten years. The ride was a bit rough and without the amenities that she had admittedly grown accustomed to, but the driver pulled up to the front entrance without any incident and chatter, and Lena wasn’t going to be the one to complain today—on a Tuesday—of all days.

By the time Lena got to her office, Jess had prepared for her a brand-new iPhone, an updated schedule, and a perplexed frown that was bordering a little too much on concern for Lena's liking.

“Looks like you didn’t have to resort to double-booking my schedule, after all,” Lena said in response to Jess’s polite greeting.

“Pardon?” Jess asked, frowning.

Lena waved her hand as she remembered. “Never mind. That wasn’t… you.” Shaking her head, she directed her attention back to the schedule. “I’m just glad to see that my workday is only the usual amount of overwhelming today.”

“Well, a few people have since canceled,” Jess explained, pointing at the relevant names on the screen. “And there was actually this one person I couldn’t get in contact with and—”

Lena just shrugged. “Oh, well.”

“Miss Luthor…” Jess said after a startled pause. “As I’m sure you already know, there are several important investors that the board has been very insistent on—”

“But I’m alive,” Lena said simply. “So, somehow, I just can’t find it in me to care right now.” Leaving Jess behind to gape after her, Lena strolled into her office with an ease that she hadn’t felt, perhaps, in days. “Also, where’s my coffee?”

Lena settled at her desk, casually sifting through the various emails she had missed, both throughout the entirety of yesterday and this morning. She tried not to grimace at the customary notice informing her that her driver had been replaced for the week.

“Do you know what happened to the driver filling in for Frank yesterday?” Lena asked, once Jess appeared with an extra large espresso.

“I… can certainly find out.” Jess pulled out her tablet, but Lena waved her off with a frown.

“No, it’s okay… just… can you make sure that he gets paid through the end of the week? No, make that a month.” Lena hemmed and hawed, watching Jess hesitantly make the note after a suspended beat, before pressing forward once more, “Actually, let’s make it six months just to be safe.”

“… Six months of pay for barely an hour of work,” Jess managed to clarify with only the slightest trace of opinion in her voice.

“Yes.” Lena went to take a sip of coffee before pausing to ask, “No sugar, right?”

“It’s the usual, Miss Luthor.”

With a grateful sigh, Lena took a long pull from her cup, letting the warmth wash over like relief. It had been far too long since she’d been able to enjoy a cup of coffee without any fear of consequence. But with sweet, sweet blessed caffeine and a full day of work ahead of her—without a hangover or gunman in sight—Tuesday was looking up already.

Lena returned to her earlier task of scrolling through her messages when one notice in particular gave her pause. “Wait, just how many times did Winn Schott call the office yesterday?”

Jess gave a short sigh and a barely implicit eyeroll before saying, “I believe the final count was at… 27?”

“Twenty-seven phone calls?” Lena echoed in disbelief. “Why?”

“He wouldn’t say.” Jess then straightened up in a mild jerk. “Excuse me, Miss Luthor,” she said before pressing a finger to her earpiece. “Lena Luthor’s office. Jess speak—” The assistant winced, immediately ripping off her headphones, and even Lena could hear the ongoing torrent of indecipherable panic flooding from the speakers.

Lena raised an eyebrow. “Is that…?”

“Yep! Speak of the devil,” Jess said, keeping the headphones at arm’s length. “He says it’s urgent, Miss Luthor. Shall I transfer his call?”

Lena scoffed in between sips of coffee. “If it were really that important, he could make an appointment just like everyone else.”

“He tried actually,” Jess said. “But you weren’t in yesterday because… well, you weren’t in.”

“Really?” Lena frowned, curiosity unfortunately piqued. “Well, did he say if—” Her stomach lurched, pressure and discomfort fluttering up her entire frame. Lena pressed a hand to her chest with a pained wince. “Excuse me…” She shook her head and tried again, “So, what did…”

A flash of heat burst inside Lena’s belly, the pain flaring out and up. Her vision grew spotty, her limbs suddenly heavy, and the coffee cup tumbled to the floor and Lena dropped right alongside it.

Lena awoke to a familiar series of bee-bee-beeps! and to the not unfamiliar—though perhaps somewhat undue—taste of bitter coffee and vomit inside her mouth. She retched and stumbled over her own feet, slipping on the marble floor in her mad scramble toward the bathroom. Unable to even make it to the sink, Lena dropped to her knees before the bathtub, clawing at the faucet with clumsy fingers and funneling water straight into her parched, sour mouth.

Once her stomach was somewhat settled and the last of the gags had been swallowed down, Lena staggered back to her bedroom. It took her two swipes to grab her phone off the floor, where it sat, still emitting that wretched alarm. Nothing could have stopped the most undignified groan from rumbling up Lena’s tender throat at the sight of that Monday glaring up at her from the screen.

Lena fumbled past the usual myriad of notifications, anxious to get a jumpstart on this day for the umpteenth time. But as luck would have it, her inelegant thumb ended up tapping on a text instead of swiping it aside, promptly forcing Lena to contend with a message that she’d been avoiding for what seemed like an entire eternity despite having only been sent a mere four hours ago.

Lena,

I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, and I fully intend on giving you all the time and space you need. But please know that I’m still your friend and I’ll always care about you, no matter what might happen between us.

If you ever want to talk, please do not hesitate to reach out.

I’ll be here,

KD

Though Lena squeezed the traitorous device in her hand until it creaked, the traitorous heart in her chest somehow doubled down and squeezed even harder. “Goddammit…” It took several steadying breaths through clenched teeth before Lena could look at her phone again. But even then, the screen just blurred. “God-fucking-dammit…”

But Lena simply didn’t have the time to deal with this right now. The unshed tears, the prominent lump now stoppering her throat, the inconvenient chest pangs, the tiniest modicum of hope—any of it. Given the many chances she had already squandered thus far, Lena couldn’t afford to waste yet another by indulging the whims of her foolish, stuttering heart. She deleted the message and speed-dialed her assistant.

“Has Winn Schott called yet?” Lena cut in before Jess could even greet her.

“… N-no.” There was a flurry of rustling papers. “Were you expecting a call from Mr. Schott?”

“In a sense,” Lena said, rubbing at her throbbing forehead, because of course with the Monday returned her monstrous hangover, all the more terrible after the short reprieve. “When he does call, will you please let him know that I’d like to see him? That whatever it is, I’d rather talk it out in person… Preferably sometime before noon,” she added as a grim afterthought.

“Of course, Miss Luthor.”

“Thank you. Text to confirm.”

Diligent as always, Jess sent the confirmation text just as Lena was leaving her apartment. The meeting with Winn was set at a respectable 10:30, which was well before the dreaded hour of noon that Lena agreed without a second thought.

When she first caught sight of the town car waiting for her outside the building, Lena’s stomach plummeted. But there was no time, so she kept her head held high and her pace measured as she made her way over.

“Morning, Miss Luthor!” came the familiar chirp as Charlie turned around to greet her. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but…”

Lena listened to the now customary explanation with the occasional nod, carefully taking it all in. Clear green eyes, bright and beaming. The friendly lull and rhythm of his words. A broad grin stretched across his face, free of any fear or trauma.

“Thank you, Charlie,” she said finally. “I’m glad you’re here.”

If the young driver found the words strange, he didn’t show it, his grin only growing wider in response and Lena couldn’t help but smile back.

Today was going to be different.

She would make it so.

//

Lena’s next few moments passed without ceremony—receiving the phone call from Eric about the protestors, bullying a handful of pills from her assistant for her terrible headache, disposing of the coffee just in case—until she was finally seated at her desk, preparing to meet with the much awaited Mr. Schott.

Or at least that was the plan until Jess stepped into her office to inform her that her 9 o’clock was here.

“What? You didn’t cancel it?” Lena demanded.

Jess blinked a few times. “No? Was I supposed to?”

“Didn’t I…” But of course Lena hadn’t—not this time around anyway. She had been too preoccupied with all the new variables, what with Kara’s emotionally inconvenient text and her upcoming meeting with Winn. “Now’s not really a good time,” she eventually said, making the executive decision. “Could you get them to reschedule for tomorrow?”

“Right away, Miss Luthor.”

Jess had barely turned to leave when she was crumpling to the floor face first, a spurt of red streaking across the carpet beside her.

“Yeah, that’s not really going to work for me,” said a now familiar voice, and the gunman stepped into Lena’s office with a toothy grin. “Morning, Lena. I hope you are well.”

//

“You must be my 9 o’clock,” Lena said. She somehow managed to sound calm, despite the way her pulse was racing in her ears.

The gunman threw out his arms in a crude mockery of a magnanimous gesture. “I’m your 9 o’clock,” he agreed with a laugh.

“And you’ve killed my assistant.”

Snickering, the man polished the small attachment at the tip of his gun—a state-of-the-art silencer, as far as Lena could tell—with his sleeve. “Small potatoes,” he said before leveling the weapon with Lena’s chest. “I’m here for you.”

“You are quite the persistent assassin, aren’t you?” Lena said, and the gunman wrinkled his brow, seemingly perplexed. “Surely, whatever you’re being paid isn’t worth this much trouble.”

“Paid?” The gunman shook his head in a disappointment both exaggerated and condescending. “Tsk, tsk, Lena… I thought that you’d be much smarter than that.”

He kept the gun carefully trained on Lena, but raised his other arm, waggling his fingers with such brazen panache that Lena honestly should have put it together long before now. With a small flourish, the gunman tapped the back of his ear, and for the second time in three days—and quite literally a couple of lifetimes—Lena found herself witnessing the shimmering effects of her very own cloaking technology as it flickered off.

“Lex.”

Lena said her brother’s name with a small laugh, because even with her mind reeling from all the recent events and new revelations, she felt a surge of triumph. Because no matter what happened next, she would know for next time, and oh, there would most definitely be a next time. Lena couldn’t afford otherwise with Jess still lying facedown and motionless in a pool of her own blood.

“Gotta say that I’m very impressed with this design,” Lex said in the voice that Lena had once found warm and sincere, perhaps even loving at times. “Nice and sleek. Inconspicuous even. The voice modification was a nice touch, though I suppose a necessary feature for some of your more beastly clients.”

“But you’re in prison,” Lena said.

“Was, darling,” Lex said, smirking. “Clearly. Now will you please be a dear and accompany me downstairs? There’s something I’d like to show you.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Oh, please. I don’t want to kill you here, Lena. But I will if I have to,” Lex said, his smirk devolving into something dark and twisted, and Lena didn’t even need the firsthand experience to know that he would shoot her without hesitation.

“Then kill me,” Lena said nonchalantly.

But Lex just clucked his tongue in disapproval. “Oh, Lena… Did you really think that I wouldn’t have a contingency plan?” He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a device about the size of his palm. “Small, but packs quite a punch. Could easily level this entire building.”

Or perhaps a lone town car and half a city block to boot, Lena silently added in her head, glowering at the bomb in question.

“You may have a death wish, dear sister,” Lex pressed on with a snicker. “But can you say the same for everyone else in your employ?”

Lena let out a bitter laugh. “You’d… you’d never. You love yourself too much.”

“And just how sure of that, are we?”

Lena bit her tongue, just barely suppressing the impulse to accept the challenge. Because she would either be calling Lex’s bluff—which would be plenty satisfying in its own right—or the entire building would come down in flames, and Lena could be better prepared for the next time Lex stepped into her office.

But… but, but, but what if Lena used the rest of the day to her advantage? As a recon mission of sorts.

What if she played along with her brother’s demands, uncovered his schemes, learned how he escaped from prison, or perhaps even ascertain the location of yet another secret lab to dismantle?

That… would be a life well spent.

“Fine,” Lena said. “I’ll come.”

“Good. So, I won’t be needing this anymore, eh?” Lex waved his gun around with a manic grin.

Lena scowled. “No, now that you’ve revealed your little coup de grâce, the phallic metaphor would just be overkill.”

“Funny.” Lex pocketed both his weapons, though he kept his left hand tucked into his jacket pocket along with the bomb. “Let’s go.”

The trip down to the parking lot was quiet, save for a few employees who graced Lena with a polite greeting that she could only return with a curt nod. It wasn’t until Lena caught sight of the car that her brother had apparently been dragging her toward all those other times that she broke the silence.

“A limo?” Lena all but scoffed. “How very inconspicuous of you.”

“What? I’m no barbarian. You know that,” Lex said, giving Lena a friendly shove toward the car.

He rapped at the dark tinted window and the door swung open to reveal a very large gentleman stepping out of the car. At Lex’s impatient nod, Lena got in, shoving past her brother’s arm when he offered her support. She slid down, right up to another gentleman who was somehow even larger than the first climbing in after her.

Squeezed between two pairs of excessively broad shoulders, Lena barely had any elbow room once she was settled in her seat. It made her all the more resentful when Lex plopped down comfortably and alone in the seat across from her with a contented sigh.

“Let’s go,” Lex called out, slapping at the partition, and with that, they were well on their way all too soon.

//

After an extended pause in which Lena refused a celebratory martini—stomach still sour from the fatal coffee from the day before—she had to disturb the silence once more.

“So, what is it?” she demanded. Lex raised an eyebrow, but didn’t bother looking up from his very important task of filling his martini glass with more olives than it could properly hold. “What are you doing? Where are you taking me? This is your big chance to show off, Lex. What was so important that you had to come all the way to my office, kill my assistant—”

“You still mad about that?”

“—and kill me, god only know how many times, and I just feel like I deserve to know. So, what is it? What’s the grand method behind all this madness, hm?”

Lex finally met Lena’s eyes with his own narrowing, his grin still amused though somewhat perplexed. “This is going to sound very ironic and insincere coming from me, considering—” he flicked a lazy wrist between the two of them—“but are you sure you’re feeling all right? Because you’ve been saying some pretty weird stuff today.”

Lena huffed, fighting the urge to cross her arms at her brother like she had done so many times in her youth. “Yes, Lex, I’m perfectly fine. In fact, everything is just—”

A terrible crunch ripped through the air, followed by a thud and screech of metal, then Lena and the two men on either side of her pitched forward as the orientation of the world shifted around them.

“The hell is going on?” Lex roared, shoving Lena off him as he turned to pound on the partition.

The window slid down and the driver shouted back, “I’m sorry, Mr. Luthor, but it’s Supergirl! She found us!”

Lena didn’t quite have the time nor the wherewithal to decide how this new turn of events made her feel, but the shit-eating grin flashing across Lex’s features was enough to get her stomach rolling all the same.

“How perfect,” Lex crowed as he reached over to a side compartment, fingers moving deftly over a small panel to punch in a code. “I’ve been itching to try out some of my new toys…”

Lena lunged forward, but the large man grabbed her before she could do much more than launch a kick that barely glanced off Lex’s shoulder. She twisted around and bit down on the arm wrapped around her neck. The large man yelped and squeezed her tighter while the larger man tried to get ahold of her thrashing legs.

Then with a powerful wrench of twisting metal, fresh air and sunlight spilled freely into the limo.

“Lena!” Kara called out from above. “I mean, Miss Luthor! Are you—”

But before Lena could get out a warning, Lex had already lobbed a few spheres glowing a bright sickly green out the gaping hole that was now the back of the car. Kara disappeared and the car crashed heavily back onto its rear wheels, righting everyone’s perspective once more.

“Supergirl!” Lena screamed, but the sound was barely enough to drown out her own racing heartbeat. “Supergirl!”

No answer.

With a self-satisfied smirk and bark of laughter, Lex jabbed his thumb toward the door. “Go check it out, Johnson.”

The larger man promptly released Lena’s legs and very tentatively poked his head out the door. In the next moment, the entire car door was ripped away and Johnson was launched into the air, screaming with his limbs flailing wildly.

“Excuse me!” Kara said, popping in through the newly created opening.

But whether the apology was directed at her or at Lex and the remaining henchman, Lena never found out. Because the next thing she knew, she was hurtling toward the sky, her hair whipping around her face, cheeks chafing from the wind, with the smoking limo gradually shrinking in the distance as they rose.

“What are you doing?” Lena asked with a strangled gasp, as soon as she collected her bearings. “Why are you here?”

“I… I-I-I…” Kara faltered mid-air, her face coloring in an unfairly attractive blush. “Okay, so I know I said that I’d keep my distance and be respectful of your space, and-and I did! But then, you came here to my side of the town and I heard your voice saying stuff about dying and being killed, and… I was worried!”

“Kara, stop it! Stop! Stop taking me higher!” Lena thumped her palms against the superhero’s chest in frustration. “We need to get back down there right now! Lex is there.”

Kara’s eyes widened. “Lex? You mean, like your brother?”

“Do you know of any other Lexes? Put me down, put me down!”

At Lena’s vehement command, Kara swiftly transitioned into a dive, but by the time they reached the ground, all that was left was an empty limousine with the backend torn off. Even Johnson was nowhere to be seen.

“God-dammit,” Lena groaned, rubbing at her eyes with both hands. “We were so close. I was so close… Why’d you get involved?” she snapped, rounding on Kara all over again. “I had everything under control!”

Kara’s shoulders slumped in a manner that was strangely unbecoming of Supergirl, yet deeply familiar, which only worsened Lena’s frustration. “I… was worried,” Kara said, as if that would explain and justify everything, and in a less dire situation, maybe it could have. “Okay, I’m sorry, but they can’t be too far, right? Come on, we can probably get a better vantage point from the sky.”

“Nope.” Lena scrambled just out of Kara’s reach, practically tripping over herself in her flimsy heels and haste. “I think you’ve done quite enough damage for the day, Supergirl. The last thing I need right now is you touching me, got it?”

“Lena… I mean, Miss Luthor, I was just trying to—wait!” Kara’s eyes grew wide, her hands outstretched, tone verging on panic. “Wait, Lena, just wait! Wait! Lena!”

Maybe it was due to the rain that was just starting to fall or the blind desire to get away from the source of her most recent heartache, but Lena heard the blare of honking too late.

The impact struck her from behind, sending her hurtling through the air. She landed in a crumpled pile of distant pain and sounds, dimly aware of the way her leg had collapsed underneath her and how the world seemed to be swirling away within her steadily darkening vision.

“A car!?” Lena was screaming as soon as she blinked back into awareness. “Are you fucking kidding me? All that… for a fucking car to just run me the—god!” She turned over and shouted into her pillows for all she was worth, until her voice grew hoarse then dwindled, until some of the white-hot anger had bled away.

Still seething, Lena snatched her phone off the nightstand to silence the familiar, incessant, highly unnecessary bee-bee-beeps! that only seemed to worsen her already unbearable state of frustration. She didn’t bother dismissing any of the notifications or even contacting Jess, resolved instead to dial a number that she had considered never dialing again in her lifetime.

“Oh, hey, Lena!” Kara exclaimed within two rings.

“Shut up and meet me at my office in a half-hour,” Lena growled into her phone, even as she was hopping into the nearest pair of pants. “And, no, I don’t want to see you right now. And, yes, things are still not okay between us. But I really need to make sure that you don’t somehow royally fuck things up this time around, so you better fucking be there!”

“Uhhh… okay, sure…” There was a slight pause and an implicit clearing of the throat. “Um. Are you okay?”

“Yes!” Lena cried, already out the door. “I’ll see you soon!”

//

“Morning, Miss Luthor!” Charlie said happily as Lena entered the car with a stony glare.

“Morning.”

“I don’t know if the agency contacted you or not, but I’m taking over for Frank this week. Poor guy’s sick as a dog apparently.”

“Oh no.” It was difficult to sound sincere, but just how many times did Lena have to sit through this very same interaction? “Well, thankfully, it’s just the flu, so…”

“The flu,” Charlie echoed, brow creasing in the rearview mirror. “I mean, I guess that could be it?”

Lena couldn’t help but frown at that because it gave her pause, and nothing should be giving her pause right now.

But… there was no time.

“Listen, Charlie, I’m running a bit later than I’d like today,” Lena said, her tone polite yet brusque, “so any hustle would be much appreciated.”

“Aye aye, captain!” he said, snapping a familiar salute.

Throughout the drive, Lena carefully composed a series of texts, instructing Jess to discreetly gather a small security team at her office, to not contact the authorities, and to go ahead and schedule Winn Schott to meet her as soon as possible on pain of death—whether it be his or her own.

Lena was so thoroughly preoccupied in making sure that she had gotten all the details correct that it came as a surprise when the car eventually rolled to a stop, pulled up to the front curb.

“Wait, no, you have to go around back because of the protestors,” Lena said automatically, sitting up in alarm.

“What protestors?” Charlie asked, and the confusion in his voice was enough to strike real doubt in Lena’s heart for the first time since waking.

She whipped her head toward the window, and sure enough, the path to the front entrance was as clear as day. Not a single protestor—or a crowd of any sort, for that matter—in sight.

“I…” Lena glanced down at her phone. Her eyes had been glued to the screen for the entirety of the commute, so there was no way that she could have missed Eric’s call. “Is today Monday?”

“Yes…?” Charlie frowned when Lena double-checked the date on her phone. “Is everything okay, boss?”

“Yes, it’s fine… It’s just…” Lena squinted out the window once more. “Something’s different this time around.”

“Different how?”

Lena exhaled a sharp sigh, shaking her head furiously. “I don’t have time for this!”

“Uh, okay, sorry,” Charlie said quickly.

Lena opened the door, but hesitated again with one heel touching the sidewalk. “… I never did see the protestors for myself…”

“What protestors?” Charlie repeated. “I thought you said you didn’t have time for this?”

“I don’t!” Lena insisted, leaping out of the car. “Goodbye!”

Lena’s stomach prickled, her skin crawling and itchy all over, as if her entire body was acutely aware of how everything was slightly, yet undeniably different. She was walking through the front entrance, Eric wasn’t there to escort her inside because there was no need for extra security, because there were no protestors—if there had even been any to begin with, that is.

The elevator ride was uneventful and just long enough for Lena to shake off any traces of suspicion sidling up her spine. But it all came rushing right back once she caught sight of Jess’s desk because it was only then that Lena noticed one critical difference she hadn’t yet accounted for.

She wasn’t hungover.

There was no nausea, no dryness of the mouth. A slight headache, yes, but nothing like that splitting pain that had spiked and throbbed behind her forehead all those other times.

Lena checked her phone one more time, but everything was the same: the day, the date, the temperature even. So there was no reason for anything else to be out of sorts, especially since she had consumed a near lethal amount of whiskey the night before that first Monday.

“Miss Luthor?”

Snapping out of her increasingly circular thoughts, Lena blinked over at her assistant—alive and well, head still perfectly intact—and smiled out of sheer relief. “Jess, it’s so good—”

“The police are here,” Jess blurted out.

Lena took an entire step back, brow raised high. “… Why? I specifically asked you not to call them,” she hissed under her breath.

“And I didn’t!” Jess rushed out, trailing after Lena as she explained, “They came here all on their own, I swear!”

“Goddammit…”

Lena sighed before deliberately straightening her posture, shoulders squared, head raised high, composing herself into the CEO she was expected to be. Just as she was finally making her way into her office, Jess hastily whispered one last thing after her.

“Also, Miss Danvers is here!”

And that was all the warning Lena got before her stomach dropped at the loveliest, most unwelcome sight of the woman before her, complete with her soft smile and lightly blended pastels.

“Lena!” Kara said in a bright enough greeting, touching those glasses of hers that she probably never even needed in the first place.

“Hello, Kara…” Lena returned slowly, voice threatening to crack.

Somehow, it had been much, much easier to meet Supergirl face-to-face. After all, in a sense, Supergirl hadn’t been the one to betray her trust. Supergirl wasn’t the one who had the audacity to call herself a friend in one breath and lie to Lena’s face in the next for past three years.

No, that had been a privilege solely reserved for Kara Danvers. No one else could have ever gotten that close, and perhaps no one will ever again. But for now, all Lena knew was that there was simply no time for this right now.

Lena cleared her throat, forced a small smile. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course,” Kara said without hesitation, her brow furrowing slightly. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Miss Luthor, if I may…” a deep, steady voice of a stranger interjected, swiftly reminding Lena that they weren’t the only ones in the room. “We’re here on behalf of the National City prison, and…” He shot a calculating look at Kara’s soft get-up before continuing in a pointed sneer, “We have some sensitive information regarding your brother.”

“She can stay,” Lena retorted, all but rolling her eyes. “And I already know that Lex escaped, and frankly, if you had just told me about it the first time it happened, I wouldn’t have to—”

“Lex Luthor is dead.”

Lena blinked, jaw dropping slightly as Kara gasped somewhere behind her. “No, he didn’t,” she said automatically. “He didn’t, because he escaped and he made an appointment to… I just saw him. I just…” Lena eventually trailed off with a slight shake of the head because was there even a point to going on?

She barely registered Kara stepping closer and squeezing her hand in both of hers or the deep voice droning on in explanation.

“… a sudden cardiac episode some time late last night. It was quick. Probably didn’t even feel a thing…”

“Lena,” Kara whispered by her ear. “Lena, are you okay?”

Lena finally broke off her stare, looking instead out the window, and try as she might, she couldn’t spy a single raincloud in sight.

By all accounts, it looked as if it was going to be a beautiful sunny day.