Chapter Text
The first time she knew her mother (her adoptive mother, as Lillian liked to remind her) didn’t love her, she’d been newly adopted and Lillian had taken her aside and told her in no uncertain terms that she would neverbe a true Luthor. (Not that she cared. She hadn’t even known what being a Luthor entailed—how could she aspire to something she didn’t understand?)
(She knew Lex didn’t love her because he hadn’t stopped, he hadn’t come back to her, and wasn’t that what love was all about? Being the best you could be for the ones you love? Isn’t that what happened in movies all the time, people ‘changing’ for the sake of love?)
Lena was rather sure she’d neverbeen loved. She was sure because her experience with love was totally immersive and completely overwhelming. It was as if she couldn’t love without giving it her all, putting every single ounce of herself out there, loving fully and unabashedly. (She would have given anything, her name, her money, her heart, her soul, to save Lex. He was her brother, her only family. There was nothing she wasn’t willing to sacrifice for him to come back to her. But Lex….) Lena, who wanted nothing more than to love and be loved in return, didn’t understand where she’d gone wrong. She was doing exactly what all those books and movies said to: she loved and loved and loved, coming back stronger and more resilient each time her heart was broken. She bore the pain, the loneliness, the heartbreak, sure that somehow, as long as she kept at it, she’d finally get what everyone else took for granted. It took her years, but she finally understood.
Love, this notion she’d spent her entire life chasing, was nothing but a shadow—a glimmer of something that continuously remained just out of reach. The truth was love was much like what she’d said to Kara about good and evil: some people were born loved and some people just weren’t. And Lena was one of the latter.
She was okay with it. She’d accepted it. Moved on. So she didn’t understand why she’d be so foolish as to fall in love with Kara Danvers.
(Love, she’d learned, never came her way. Love, she’d learned, was destined to end in heartbreak. Love, she’d learned, wasn’t for her.)
(So why did she hope that Kara would be the exception?)
i.
“Your sister doesn’t like me, does she?” Lena asked as she helped Kara collect the empty beer bottles scattered across the reporter’s apartment. They’d had a ‘game night’ and Kara had insisted that Lena was obviously invited, telling her in no uncertain terms that her presence was required. And while James and Winn had seemed to make an effort (if effort constituted actively not throwing vitriol her way), Alex’s distrustful gaze had never ventured too far from Lena.
“What? Pshh, of course she likes you, where’d you get that idea?” Kara answered, but she was playing with her glasses the entire time, ducking her head, and frowning. Lena wondered if Kara knew she was a bad liar.
“She was glaring at me the whole time, Kara.”
“Alex just…she’s a big sister. She’s protective.”
“She thinks I’m going to hurt you because I’m a Luthor?” Lena asked incredulously, feeling both vindicated and frustrated that her hunch had been proven right. So even amongst Kara’s friends she was nothing more than a Luthor, nothing more than someone destined to cause harm and wreak havoc and—
“She’s um, well, she’s protecting me from myself, actually,” Kara cut into Lena’s mental tirade, shocking her enough that for a moment she couldn’t even remember what she was ranting about. She wasn’t given the chance to find her footing, though. Kara kept talking. “I have a tendency to be…rash, I suppose. You know, with my feelings.”
“I don’t understand,” Lena found herself saying, blinking at Kara in confusion. Kara straightened her glasses, pushing them back up the bridge of her nose, before meeting Lena’s gaze.
“It’s just….” She trailed off, taking a deep breath and smiling oddly. (Lena was beginning to learn all of Kara’s smiles; she knew Kara used her smile to hide, much like she did herself. She knew most of Kara’s smiles: the ones when she was uncomfortable, when she was sad, when she was lying, when she was nervous. But Lena had never seen thissmile.) “I’m so glad you came, Lena. I know what it’s like to feel alone and I’m…well, I’m glad you took a chance on me and my friends.” She cleared her throat and shrugged, turning around to throw some trash away. “And they do like you. My friends and sister. I can tell from the fact that they didn’t let you win at Scrabble.”
“You all take Scrabble that seriously?” Lena asked, deciding it was best not to argue even if she thought Kara was wrong, even if she thought Kara was just trying to be kind. “It’s just a game.”
“Just a game?” Kara repeated, looking offended. “Now that’s just wrong. Game Night is a time-honored tradition around here, Lena. You’re going to have to get used to it.”
(She didn’t think Kara actually meant it—she didn’t think she’d be invited again. But after that day, without fail, Lena was invited to Game Night every single week.)
(But that didn’t mean anything.)
ii.
When she was younger, she learned it was best to keep her feelings to herself, especially when she was around Lillian. She made an effort to maintain an impassive and suave (or so she liked to think) expression, liking how appearing unruffled no matter what was said would upset Lillian who Lena was rather sure thrived on causing trouble. (Her mother was never malicious or cruel, she never made any effort to actually hurtLena—at least, beyond making sure Lena was aware that she wasn’t loved.)
Naturally, this practice became habit, and by the time she was in charge of L-Corp, she didn’t have much hope for anyone ever noticing that something was wrong. After all, who would care to pay enough attention that they notice her rare slip-ups?
“So what’s up with you?” Kara asked suddenly, shoving her hands deeper into her coat pockets, wiggling her nose against the cold. If Lena hadn’t been so shocked by the question, she would have had the time to find Kara adorable. (Admittedly, she always found Kara adorable.)
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been gnawing on your lip for the last ten minutes.” Lena stopped walking, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at Kara, not sure if she felt confused or admiration or affection or— “So? You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Right. So just to clarify, was that a ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ I’m fine, or a ‘this is none of your business, butt out’ sort of I’m fine? Because those are two very different things.” Kara smiled at Lena, and it was another one of the smiles Lena had yet experienced. But this time, she felt she was sure what it meant. (Something along the lines of, you can tell me anything. Something along the lines of, I’m your friend. Something along the lines of, you can trust me.)
(She wasn’t quite sure why she believed Kara’s smile when experience told her she was being taken for a sucker.)
“Lex sent me a letter.”
“Oh wow.” And in a move that left Lena breathless, because this, thisis not something she had ever experienced, Kara reached out and pulled Lena into a gentle one-armed hug. Lena was too surprised and overwhelmed and achingto hug Kara back before she pulled away and studied Lena’s face intently. “Are you okay?” she asked, looking like she genuinely wanted to know, like she genuinely care about the answer. She didn’t pry, she didn’t ask invasive questions about what Lex would want from her, she just…cared. (Cared about Lena, but that didn’t make any sense. That was notanything she’d ever experienced.)
“No,” she admitted after a long moment. This, she thought. This is the moment she leaves. This is the moment she breaks my heart.
But instead:
“Okay, so when I want to feel better, I like potstickers and ice cream and bad movies. Alex likes to drink.” She paused, frowning. “A lot. I should probably have a talk with her about that.” She blinked several times and shook her head violently. “But this is about you! If you could do anything right now, anything at all, what would it be?”
(I want to kiss you, she thought.)
“I want to drink expensive wine and eat the greasiest burger in National City,” she said.
“Then let’s do it! You provide the expensive wine and I’ll track down the burger, and we’ll make a night out of it.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” Kara answered easily, as if this wasn’t a big deal, as if she wasn’t rewriting everything Lena thought she knew with a two simple words. “I promise you’ll feel better.”
(Lena wanted to explain that that wasn’t what she meant, wanted ask Kara what she was trying to gain out of all this.)
(But Kara smiled that smile Lena didn’t understand, and Lena could do nothing but smile back.)
iii.
After that first hug (which Lena had etched into her memory from the number of times she replayed it in her mind), Kara became alarmingly affectionate. She’d hook their arms together as they walked together to get coffee, she’d greet Lena with a tight hug (she’d also leave Lena with a tight hug), and she seemed endlessly fascinated with squeezing Lena’s hand every chance she got.
In all honesty, it was probably all the touchingthat led to her discovering Kara’s secret. After all, the touching made her more aware of the way Kara smelled (like a meadow, like fresh air, like the sky just after it’s rained). It was all the touching that made Lena stare longer, frantically searching for that thing, thatthingthat would make all this make sense. It was all the touching that left Lena with a vast knowledge of just how Kara’s skin felt against hers, from the warmth to the softness to the electrical thrumming between them.
It was only natural for her to realize that Supergirl and Kara were the same person after the former saved her from a disgruntled employee. She was a scientist first and foremost, it was insulting to think that she wouldn’t eventually figure it out—that she wouldn’t notice the flowery perfume, the same eyes, the soft, thrummingskin. (She thought that insulted was the entirety of it—she was insulted that Kara had thought she wouldn’t connect the dots, wouldn’t notice how Kara was never available when Supergirl was, how Kara magically always appeared shortly after Supergirl flew off, how Kara’s absences coincided with situations in National City that required Supergirl’s attention. She thought that she was insulted, but she was also angry and frustrated and annoyed and—)
(Hurt, she was hurt, because this was another lie, another betrayal, another person letting her down and proving her right about love.)
She wanted to hate Kara. She wanted to yell and punch and scream and kiss—
Lena Luthor was very good at hiding what she felt. (Too good, sometimes.) So when Kara arrived at L-Corp late one evening after Lena had made up some excuse about missing Game Night because of work, it was easy to pretend nothing was wrong.
“I brought you dinner,” she said, holding up a bag as she walked into Lena’s office. Lena wanted to ask her why she bothered with stairs when she could’ve just flown in through the window. “Game Night sort of fell apart without you,” she continued, settling down at the chair across from Lena’s desk. It was an innocuous enough comment, but it made Lena’s heart race, made her wish things were different, that Kara would be the exception. “James and Winn said poker wasn’t any fun without you, because apparently I’m a bad liar.” Lena disagreed. She’d once thought Kara was a bad liar too, but look how long she’d managed to hide the biggest secret of all. “And Alex and Maggie are at that stage as a couple, you know, the one where they’re just super gross all the time?” She shrugged and handed Lena a pair of chopsticks. “Anyway, my point is, Game Night is not Game Night without Lena Luthor.”
“There’s nothing else you have to do? Nothing that would prevent you from spending time with me?”
“Um, no. Wait. Maybe…?” Her eyes widened and she put her carton of food aside, reaching into her bag for a pen before scrawling something on her hand. “Carr wanted me to edit my last piece, but he’s crazy if he thinks I’m taking out the last paragraph, I’m super fond of it.”
“Kara, you don’t have to be here,” Lena tried again, and this time something must’ve shown on her face because her comments finally gave Kara pause.
“I’ve upset you.” She stated it as a fact, her expression turning earnest when Lena’s silence gave her all the confirmation she needed. “I swear I wasn’t the one who told Winn you cheat at poker,” Kara said, wiggling her nose as she did so. She was such a bad liar, so how had she been able to hide Supergirl? “Okay, I was. But that’s only because you made him look bad and Winn…well, Winn is fragile. He needs to be coddled.”
“That’s not is, Kara.”
“Okay, then what is it?”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“Of course it matters! How you feel matters. You’re smart and kind and generous and you’re my friendand you matter.” She was on the literal edge of her seat as she stared at Lena, as if begging her to understand. “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”
(What’s wrong is that I want to kiss you,she thought. What’s wrong is that I can’t trust you.)
“How do you know Supergirl?” (One test. That would be what she’d give Kara. One chance in light of their friendship, in light of the feelings she had for the reporter/superhero. One test, that was all.)
“Gosh,” Kara began, letting out a sigh, and Lena braced herself for the lie, “you know, I had it all planned out.” Lena blinked, the conversation taking a turn she’d not been expecting. “I wanted to surprise you, just jump off a roof like I did with Winn.” She smiled her unrecognizable smile without meeting Lena’s eyes. “You’re so smart, I should’ve known you’d figure it out. Though to be fair to myself, you’re only the second person who’s figured it out on their own.” Lena tried not to let the compliments cloud her judgment, cloud her ire.
“So they all know? James, Winn, Alex, and Maggie?”
“Not Maggie. Though Alex has been trying to convince me to tell her. Apparently Maggie is getting a little jealous of Supergirl.” A pause followed, a long one that went unbroken by Lena, making Kara’s face fall. “Since I landed on Earth, I’ve hidden who I am. It’s become second nature to me. It just…it takes a while to work up the courage to admit the truth.”
(Yes, Lena wanted to cry out, the truth is I love you.)
(Yes, Lena didn’t have the courage to say, the truth is that I love you, but I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.)
iv.
She’d heard that Supergirl had been injured, that Supergirl was hurt, and it felt as if her heart had been ripped right out of her chest. (Love, she remembered, only brought pain.)
It took a lot of convincing, but she finally managed to get Alex to take her to the DEO headquarters, to take her to see Kara. The sight of the reporter laying motionless on the bed surrounded by bright yellow lights sent Lena’s heart into overdrive, but all she did was sit at the chair next to the bed and waited. (Love, she remembered, wasn’t for her.)
She wasn’t quite sure when she started crying or when Kara woke up and pulled her into her arms. She wasn’t quite sure when she kissed Kara, when Kara kissed back, when Kara began shedding her own tears. She didn’t know what Kara said between kisses, didn’t know what Kara’s smile meant or why her eyes and her touch left Lena feeling breathless and overwhelmed and full, but she didn’t care.
All she knew was that Kara was alive, was in her arms, was warm and soft and smelling of flowers.
(And Lena was in love.)
(She was in love, and she expected nothing in return—not love, not warmth, not change, not betterment. She loved Kara and that was just…enough.)
v.
They were on the couch, her back pressed against Kara’s front, Kara’s hands running through her hair idly as they watched a movie, when the reporter said it for the first time. It came out softly, stated as a fact, with all the confidence of Supergirl and all the adorableness of Kara. It was only three words, three words that Lena had heard before from others but hadn’t believed because she knew better.
“I love you,” Kara said simply, as if there was nothing truer in the world, nothing that made more sense, and Lena finally understands the smile.
(Kara said she loved her, and Lena believed it.)
(After all, Kara was the exception.)