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Lena’s breath comes in short gasps as she tries to quell the panic building in her chest. In an effort to discourage herself from following through with waking Kara this late at night, she takes the stairs, but it only serves to make her breathing more erratic.
Left foot - breathe in, right foot - breathe out.
The air in the stairwell is damp, and every inhale causes Lena’s lungs to feel heavy and waterlogged, packed high and dripping in her ribcage. She pauses on the landing in an attempt to slow her heart rate, pressing a clammy forehead against the cool gray of the concrete wall.
It’s okay to ask for help, breathe in, it’s okay to ask Kara for help, breathe out, that’s what friends are for. Lena’s self soothing helps propel her feet forward. She yanks open the door, the air in the hallway hitting her like a dry wave.
In front of Kara’s door her heart is pounding harder than it had in the stairwell.
Lena checks her watch - 1:30am, perhaps it isn’t too late to show up at a friend’s door in the middle of a full blown anxiety attack. At this point, Lena realizes, she’d rather ask forgiveness than permission. Her anxiety is reaching an intensity with which she cannot compete, and it’s lost on her how to manage it. She just doesn’t have the tools.
With this thought in mind, Lena knocks, more forcefully than she’d intended. Drawing her hand back quickly, she clutches it by the wrist and looks at it in disbelief. There is almost no delay before Kara opens the door, concern written on her face. Lena’s eyes snap to meet hers.
“Lena,” Kara says, breathless. She doesn’t sound surprised, only compassionate. Her hair is half up, wisps fraying out beneath bobby pins. She pushes her glasses up her nose, and Lena decides that despite the pajamas, she had definitely not woken Kara up.
“Kara,” Lena’s voice is audibly shaking, “Can I come in?”
“Of course,” Kara reaches out to draw Lena into her apartment, gently shutting the door behind them. “What’s wrong?” Their fingers link.
Lena laughs sheepishly and grips Kara’s warm hand in her own. She looks down at their hands, then back into Kara’s painfully compassionate eyes, then away. Dropping her hand, she covers her face and lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Kara’s arms are around her in an instant. Something she’d been wanting to do since hearing Lena’s thundering heart burst from the stairwell into the hallway outside.
“It’s so stupid,” Lena near-wails into Kara’s shoulder, her arms finally threading around Kara’s middle to return the hug. “You’d think after so many attempts on my life I would be used to it by now.”
“I don’t think that’s stupid, Lena,” Kara’s voice is slow and warm, honey being poured into a steaming tea, easing Lena’s trembling. She rubs Lena’s back. “Honestly, I would be more worried if you weren’t affected by any of this.”
“I’m sorry to invite myself in like this, I just can’t seem to calm down,” Lena’s voice is punctuated by a hiccup, she squeezes Kara more tightly.
“It’s more than okay,” Kara’s voice is solid and certain, her arms a warm fortress, “I’m just glad you felt okay coming to me.” She rocks Lena slightly, “Wanna tell me what you’re feeling?”
Lena presses her cheek flat against Kara’s collar bone, her voice is thick, “It’s just relentless, you know? I feel like I can’t catch my breath before the next thing hits.”
Kara nods, letting her continue.
“And I just can’t shake the feeling that somewhere along the line I must have done something to deserve it,” Lena’s voice is nearing a whisper, “Not because I’m a Luthor, not because of the things my family has done. Just, it’s something I’ve always felt was true deep, deep down - the notion that I’m just... inherently unacceptable.”
“Lena,” Kara’s heart breaks. There is a mountain of things she’d like to say in response, but doesn’t know how to start.
“I know, intellectually, that this most likely isn’t true,” Lena scuffs out a sharp breath, almost a laugh, “There’s inarguable, empirical evidence that refutes the very idea, that I’d be foolish to believe it.”
“It’s possible to know something intellectually, but still not feel like it’s true, Lena,” Kara says, and runs a soothing hand over dark hair, “Or not really believe it, despite the evidence.”
“Thank you. I’m just feeling overwhelmed tonight,” Lena breathes out, feeling validated and more calm, but decides she doesn’t have the emotional capacity to talk about this too much longer. She pulls back a bit.
Gently releasing her, Kara grasps Lena’s cheeks, wiping away the tears with her thumbs. “Well then, what do you need?”
Lena doesn’t know what she did to deserve Kara, and she just stares, sniffling.
“I’ll make you tea, that’s what Alex always does for me after a hard day,” Kara smiles, dropping her hands and turning on her heel.
Lena attempts to collect herself, discreetly wiping her nose with her sleeve, but is soon watching Kara move about the kitchen with the calmness of a deep breath. The relaxed energy snakes its way across the room to Lena, drawing her to a stool at the counter. Kara pulls a cabinet open and the smell of each tea tumbles out, stray blonde hairs swaying with the gentle force of it. She turns back to her companion with a warm smile.
“Want me to choose for you?” Kara watches as Lena nods mutely, her glassy eyes shimmer in the low light, made more dramatic by small, dark rings of smudged mascara.
Quickly, Kara busies herself filling the kettle and starting the stove, then sets the teabags down on the counter. She rounds the island to Lena’s side.
“Here, give me your jacket,” Kara’s words are soft, and punctuated by gentle tugs at the collar of Lena’s coat. She takes it and disappears into the dark of the bedroom.
There’s a rustling of hangers in the closet, drawers are open and shut, a few minutes of silence, and the blonde returns with a large pullover sweatshirt in her hands. The kettle starts to whistle, and she tosses the sweatshirt to Lena, swiftly maneuvering to remove the kettle from the stove, she pours steamy water into two cups atop the tea bags.
Lena is mid-pull in her effort to get the soft sweatshirt over her head, the anxiety seeping steadily from her body with every inhale of her friend’s safe smell, when Kara appears in front of her, placing the tea on the counter to steep. Before Lena can pull the hood back, Kara’s grabbing the strings, gently pulling them so only the (slightly squished) circle of Lena’s face is showing. Kara’s smile is coy and satisfied, her teeth hidden behind tight lips as she ties a neat bow, effectively trapping Lena for the time being. She clasps her hands in front of herself and leans back, proud.
Lena juts out her bottom lip and lets out a puff of air in an attempt to move the hefty amount of flyaways caught over her eyes when the hood was abruptly tied about her face. It’s ineffective, they flop back down, and her eyes meet Kara’s from beneath them. Suddenly a laugh leaps from her throat, and they’re both doubling over, a new wave of giggles releasing each time they make eye contact.
Before they’re fully out of breath, Kara sighs and pulls one of the strings, pushing the hood over dark hair and smoothing down the frizzy halo that had emerged. Blue eyes shine earnestly with love - at least that’s what Lena suspects it might be - and she tucks a particularly wonky group of hairs hanging in lazy loops behind Lena’s ear. Kara’s overcome with a surge of affection, and cups Lena’s face again, leaning down to press a kiss to her friend’s forehead. Warmth blooms from the spot lips touch skin, and Lena shuts her eyes as she feels Kara’s thumb smooth over it tenderly.
“Come on, let’s drink before it gets cold,” Kara runs her hand from Lena’s shoulder down her arm and crosses the room to retrieve her tea. Their eyes meet over the lip of their mugs, both smiling softly.
Lena isn’t sure what wakes her. Puffy green eyes open to a dark room saturated blue from the city lights. There’s a steady drum of rain hitting the windows, and she feels an arm shift beneath her. Kara is asleep beside her, blankets bunching up at their waists. Lena rolls to face Kara, whose arm moves to wrap around her shoulders, drawing Lena against her side.
The blonde’s profile, a silhouette in the dim light, beckons Lena to trace a hand down the sleeping face. She mirrors Kara’s earlier action, gently tucking some loose blonde hair behind her ear. There’s an ache in Lena’s chest she can’t quite identify. Like she’s standing at the edge of something vast and wide, like she knows she needs to make it across to the other side, but she has to do it with a broken leg. The feeling sits heavily in her chest, bringing tears to her eyes.
The rain starts to come down harder, further diffusing the deep blue. Lena winds an arm around Kara’s midsection, sniffing as she tucks her head to the blonde’s shoulder. The arm around her back tightens, and a rough whisper cuts into the drumming rain.
“You okay?” Kara asks, and her other hand comes up to rest along Lena’s jawline, fingers splayed behind her ear.
Lena nods, and Kara’s hand guides her face into the crook of her neck. Lena presses her nose to the blonde’s pulse point, squeezing tears from the corners of her eyes. Her feelings for Kara are so huge and complicated, she finds it difficult to identify exactly what the reporter means to her. The sheer volume of feelings the blonde evokes alone is enough for Lena to shakily exhale, and she’s relaxing into her friend’s side, leg coming up to twist itself between Kara’s. She tilts her head to press a kiss to the spot just beneath Kara’s ear, then resumes pressing her nose into the blonde’s neck.
Kara hums contentedly, and her thumb drags gently back and forth along Lena’s jaw, slowing gradually as she drifts to closer to sleep, her arm pulling Lena as close as she’s able.
Lena feels her heartache easing with every exhale, feeling safe in this moment. Her body melts warm into Kara's side, the idea of waking again in the morning feels less scary that usual now, and at least for tomorrow, she doesn't have to do it alone.