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Lena is unconscious and that might be Kara’s fault, actually. She didn’t know the Kryptonite gun was aimed at her, had her back turned intercepting a bullet meant for Alex, then she turned around and there was Lena, battling it out with Lex, magic against science. She can still hear it now, the high whining of the Kryptonite beam, feel the searing across her veins. And she can still see Lena, beautiful, wonderful Lena, sweat beading across her forehead as she strained to push back against her brother.
And that horrible, terrible drop of blood dripping off Lena’s nose to land on the ground beneath. A mark; a scar, almost.
And then it’s over, Lex blown back and escaping with his portal watch before they can even get a chance to react. And then Lena is swaying, falling backwards. Kara dashes toward her best friend in a burst of super speed, catches the brunette in her arms as she sees the single drop of blood has become a substantial flow. It trickles lazily out of Lena’s nose and ears, marring her perfect skin. Kara wipes it off tenderly with her cape, not caring that she’s ruining the expensive material. Lena’s skin is paler and clammier than usual, she realizes, as she hurriedly checks for injuries. There’s nothing, just her best friend, lying in repose, body limp and pliable. Like a corpse.
She lifts worried eyes to look at her sister.
“We need to get back. I can’t do anything here,” the redhead nods to Lena. “You take her, I’ll meet you at the Tower on my bike.”
Kara nods, wordlessly, and pushes off into the skies, her precious cargo cradled tightly in her arms. She can feel Lena’s slow, steady breaths, the brunette’s head tucked into the crook of her neck. Kara thanks Rao that at least, at least her best friend is still alive. She looks so peaceful like this, the lines of stress and tension eased from her face, her hair, which she’s been wearing loose and curly these days, blowing softly in the wind. She also looks smaller than Kara’s ever remembered, against the vast, cloudless sky. Kara presses Lena a little closer to her chest, the unconscious woman curling up tighter in response. Raven hair tickles her face, and she takes a moment to breathe in the scent of Lena, of jasmine and wildflowers and expensive, smoky perfume.
She vows then and there that whatever happens, she’ll do anything to protect the woman in her arms.
“Hang on Lena,” she whispers in the shell of her ear. The Tower appears on the horizon, and soon Kara is touching down gently, careful not to jar any unseen injuries. She hears the sound of chairs pushing back from tables as her friends notice her arrival, but doesn’t stop to talk, not even as Brainy tries to ask her what happened. Instead, she makes for the medical room, laying Lena out carefully (the most careful she’s been in years, really). A wet cloth is pressed into her hands (Nia, she thinks) and she sets to work cleaning off the rest of the blood. Another hushed voice ushers the rest of them out (Kelly, probably) and Kara is left in blessed silence.
“Lena,” she whispers.
Lena doesn’t react. Her face is impassive, immovable, like stone. Her eyes stay closed.
“ Please.”
The only answer is a soft, almost imperceptible sigh.
What if Lena doesn’t wake up? What if this is her fault? What if Lena’s in some sort of coma because she did what she’s always done– protect Kara? She can’t imagine living in a world devoid of playful smiles, warm hugs and movie nights on the couch. She cannot even begin to fathom a world in which she doesn’t get to gaze into those green eyes, so piercing and clever, or a world where she’s no longer allowed to be mesmerized by the way those eyes shift from green to blue, and back again, as ever-changing as ocean tides.
She thinks about quantum entanglement. Without Lena, what is she? She will be alone, a single particle floating in space. She’s drawn, like a magnet, a planet in orbit, to Lena. If there is no Lena, then maybe there will be no Kara.
She sinks heavily into a chair as she waits for Alex. Every second that goes by drags on slowly, as if mocking her. With each tick of the clock, she stiffens, clenches her fists tighter. By the time 60 seconds have gone by, the chair she sits on has been mangled beyond belief, crumpling like putty beneath her hands.
Lena sleeps on.
Finally, five minutes later– which feels nearly like 500 years– she hears a familiar heartbeat, familiar footsteps. The sound of gloves being snapped on as her sister enters the room, already shifting into doctor mode. She watches Alex survey the warped chair, the groove she’s likely worn into the floor from her pacing, then Lena, lying on the bed, her condition unchanged. Her sister’s face is set in a determined expression as she lays a comforting hand on Kara’s shoulder.
“Alright, let’s get to work.”
---
There’s nothing Alex can do. Kara watches as her sister runs every test she deems necessary, assists where she is needed, then as Alex frowns at the test results before calling Brainy over for a consultation. Then they run the tests again, frown at the results some more, discuss some more, call over J’onn and Nia for help. Ask Kara to recount the scene, how everything happened before Lena collapsed, then drag even Kelly in, ask her questions about the brain. All the while, there’s no change in her best friend’s condition. Eventually, the group parts, arriving at a conclusion. The rest of their friends file out of the room while Alex breaks the news to Kara.
Her diagnosis? Apparently, Lena’s just exhausted.
Alex explains, waves the test results in Kara’s face to further emphasize her point, but it all flows over her like water. Alex can’t– she just cannot be right. There has to be something affecting Lena, keeping her in this state, so far away from where Kara can reach. It cannot just be exhaustion.
“Are you sure it’s not some reaction to Kryptonite–”
“Yes, Kara, we ran the tests. There’s no Kryptonite in her bloodstream.”
“What about poison? You know Lex, he’s not above hurting his own sister. Maybe he did something to her out there.”
“What? You think he managed to somehow poison her while battling it out with her?”
“Yes! Come on Alex, if there’s anybody who can do something that impossible without superspeed, it’ll be Lex!”
Alex sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look, Kara, I get that you’re worried, but I’ve run all the tests to be run. Her blood work is clean. Her vitals are stable. Whatever it is, the only thing I’m seeing are signs of exhaustion.”
Okay, so the tests aren’t working. Maybe it’s because it’s not science that’s the problem, maybe it’s something else. A lightbulb goes on in Kara’s brain. “Is it… magic?”
“Brainy did say it looks like she’s suffering from some kind of magical exhaustion,” her sister frowns, playing with her fingers uneasily. “I don’t know anything about magic, and I think it’s too risky to try on your– on her. I mean, even you blow your powers out right? Maybe Lena just has the same thing with hers.”
Try on your what? Kara thinks, wondering why her sister’s voice catches there, and why it catches her too, in her chest. She wonders why, everytime she thinks about Lena, it’s like a hummingbird has replaced her heart, fluttering its wings, stretching out in her ribcage. It’s so loud, sometimes, that she can’t hear anything but the roar of her heart in her ears, feel the blush creeping onto her cheeks when Lena sends her a smile that could land somewhere in the ballpark of flirty.
Other times it feels like her heart grows too big for her body. Like when she sees Lena with her hair loose and air-drying, a wet curtain of black hanging down the back of a cozy sweater, her socked feet tucked under Kara’s thighs, a thick blanket over her lap, her face makeup-free, wearing a pair of black-framed glasses, nose buried in a book. She looks so impossibly soft that Kara has to resist every urge to scoop her up, right then and there in her living room. Her heart nearly aches at the sight that she’s been trusted, a trust so hard fought and won, with this version of Lena, the one without the makeup she wears like a warpaint in the boardroom, or the corporate armor and cool demeanor her best friend dons as her shield to the world.
She trusts Lena too, she thinks, no, knows. Lena, who’s seen her at her worst and at her best and came back anyway, Lena, who she knows will have her back no matter what. Lena, who will invent any and everything, who will go to the ends of the earth if it means she can keep Kara safe. She sees the images as she remembers them, of ex-boyfriends and nanobots gone wrong, of Mercy Graves and her gun, of anti-Kryptonite suits and the Lena Luthor Protocol.
Alex will always be her first home, that much she is certain. But Kara is beginning to learn home can be found in numerous places, and one of them is undoubtedly, Lena.
Speaking of Alex, the redhead is staring at her. Her sister’s gaze feels like a version of laser eyes, burning hot through Kara. Absently, she wonders if her sister has developed mind reading abilities. Even then, thinking your best friend is home isn’t weird, right? Isn’t that what a best friend’s supposed to be? So why is Alex looking at her so strangely then?
She clears her throat, wanting to get out from under her sister’s stare. “I bet if Lena were awake, she’d tell us.”
“Yeah, when she wakes up, I’d like to know more about this too, see how we can prevent this from happening.”
Alex is still side-eyeing her. What? Of course her heart rate picks up around Lena, she’s happy to see her! Lena’s does the same! What’s so weird about that?
She doesn’t know why she’s defending herself to her sister in her mind. Alex can’t read minds, not really.
When she wakes up. Alex said when, not if. Lena has to wake up, right?
Then fear rushes in, an icy grip around her throat. Her previous thoughts come back to haunt her. Maybe Brainy is wrong, maybe this isn’t just magical exhaustion. Maybe this is something very serious, some type of magical injury none of them have heard of before. Maybe they won’t know it until it’s too late, until Lena’s heart gives out and she flatlines. Or maybe it will be slow, a cruel crawl toward death as Lena gasps for breath. And Kara will be powerless, unable to do anything but watch and listen as the air rattles in Lena’s lungs. Her best friend will die, and Kara will only be able to sit and mangle more chairs. Maybe she’ll mangle the entire tower, lose control and hurt everyone. The thought of Lena dying makes heat build up behind her retinas.
She can’t die. If she dies, Kara will raze the entire world to the ground.
Her chest heaves, her fingers shake. She takes deep breaths to calm down, or tries to, at least, even as her eyes fill with tears and those tears begin their shaky descent down her cheeks. “Wh-what if… What if she— What if she doesn’t–”
Her sister pulls her into a hug, and Kara breathes in Alex’s familiar scent, uses it to ground herself against the tsunami of oncoming panic. “Hey, she’s gonna wake up, okay? She’s going to be fine,” Alex says, her voice firm, like she’s willing her words into existence. Kara clings onto those words like a lifeline. “Even if– even if something else happens, we’ll figure it out together. She’s not alone anymore, and neither are you. We’re family, all of us. We got your back, yeah? El Mayarah.”
El Mayarah. She never thought she’d have a home here, that she could find those words said to her on a foreign planet. She thinks of them, from Alex and J’onn and Brainy and Nia, Lena and James and Kelly and Winn. Eliza. Her sister is right. No matter what, she’s not alone, has never been alone, not really.
And neither is Lena. She has them now, all of the Superfriends, and Kara knows without a doubt that all of them would fight like hell to get her best friend back, if it came down to it.
She gives her sister a watery smile, pressing their foreheads together. They breathe in tandem, like they used to when Kara got overwhelmed and Alex had to calm her down. She counts Alex’s heartbeats until she feels steady enough to stand on her own again. Her sister gives her a squeeze, so tight she can almost feel it, and presses a kiss to her forehead before leaving the room to get a chair that will hopefully not be ruined.
She kneels next to the bed, taking one of her best friend’s hands in hers. She’s suddenly desperate to fill the silence, hanging heavy and oppressive around her. So, Kara talks. That’s something she’s always been good at. She tells Lena about her day, about how Andrea annoys her at CatCo, about the funny thing Nia said in the office. She tells Lena about the fluffy dog she got to pet today, and the stray cat that she’s still trying to befriend, the gray tabby that hangs around her loft. She talks about the new crepe stand that’s opened up opposite LuthorCorp, and that it’s really good, actually, and she’s kind of annoyed that Lex gets to have such a good crepe stand outside his office, although being the psychopath he is, he probably hates crepes.
Lex. The name drips with poisonous disdain in her mind. She hates him, more than she’s ever hated anyone or anything. She hates him for how much he’s hurt Lena. Fire burns behind her eyes once more, and her throat goes numb with ice. If she could, she’d hunt Lex Luthor down right now, and she’d make him wish he’d never been born. She would crush his bones to dust, pummel him until he’s unrecognizable. She’d incinerate him where he stands. Or she’d freeze him, turn him into an ice statue and let him melt into insignificance. She imagines picking off everyone who’s hurt her best friend, from Andrea, to Eve, to Rhea. Lex, of course, but also Lilian.
Then she sees Alex. Nia. Brainy. J’onn. James.
Herself.
Right.
If Kara’s honest, she knows she’s the worst offender. The others, they were only helping her keep her secret. They were waiting for her to give them the green light. Hell, Alex even encouraged her to tell Lena. But she had been cowardly instead of brave, and then Lena had killed her own brother to keep them all safe, but especially Kara. Kara, and Supergirl. Here she was, so scared and so selfish, and Lena had gone and done the bravest and most selfless thing, only to be slapped in the face by Kara’s confession, her stupid, stupid secret.
And then all she could do was watch as the chasm between her and her best friend widened, as Lena went further and further away from her. Could only stand, encased in Kryptonite laced ice, as her heart shattered into glass and those glass shards buried themselves into her chest, until her ribs strained with the very effort of breathing. Until she was nothing but a bleeding cavity, her insides spilling out.
But Lena came back.
And she did! She did. Drawn together, two magnets, two planets, orbiting around each other.
What do you know about quantum entanglement?
Nothing. Everything. The two of them, two souls, intertwined. She’s seen how the world burns when they don’t meet.
Her thumb, which has been tracing light patterns over creamy skin, stills. She brings the cold hand to her face, presses it to her cheek. “Thank you, for coming back, even after I lied to you,” she says to the air, which feels hallowed and holy, somehow. “I’m sorry, by the way. I’m sorry I doubted you, I’m sorry I doubted how strong and brave and good you are. I promise I never will again, and I’ll never hurt you, not intentionally, not like that, ever again.”
“I promise to always keep you safe, Lena Luthor. And I promise I’ll always be here for you, if you'll let me.”
And she presses a soft kiss into Lena’s knuckles, hopes it’ll convey all her promises, said and unsaid. She doesn't know why she, Kara Zor-El, child of a dead planet, deserves such forgiveness, such kindness, as Lena’s given her. She only knows she has it. She will treat it like the gift it is, the gift it’s always meant to be.
She hears the uptick in Lena’s heart rate just as the hand in hers tightens its grip. Then Kara is staring into clear, confused green eyes.
“Kara? What happened?” Her best friend’s brow knits in concern. “Wait, are you crying? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
---
She’s never been so glad for Alex to be right. She can only shake her head, relieved laughter bubbling out of her throat. Lena rolls her eyes, still a little concerned but otherwise amused, and brushes a tear from under Kara’s eye. Then the blonde finally gathers her wits about her, leaving the room quickly to inform the rest of the team on the new developments.
Alex and Brainy insist on performing a checkup. Kara watches as they ask Lena question after question, shine lights into her eyes and prod her with various instruments. When she sees the brunette’s eyelids begin to droop, she shoos them both out of the room, but not before Alex very sternly orders Lena on bed rest (“I mean it, Luthor, if I catch you even looking in the direction of your lab, you’ll be benched for as long as I’m alive.”) and Brainy manages to whisper conspiratorially to Lena that he’ll still bring her anything from her lab if she gets bored (this earns him a sharp glare from Alex. As they leave the room together, her sister thumps him on the head.).
Kara gets up to leave, too, but a hand catches her wrist.
“Stay?”
She stares into those ocean tide eyes and feels something blossoming in her chest, coming alive between them. Fragile as flower petals and twice as beautiful.
She smiles. “Always.”
Alex, halfway out the door, looks back to see the two of them, and mutters something about useless sapphics under her breath, then shakes her head and leaves. Kara pretends not to hear. Instead, she makes for the new chair her sister has brought in, intending to sit there with Lena, but the woman in question tugs on her hand instead. She goes willingly, allows herself to be pulled until she’s clambering on the bed, sliding in beside her best friend.
“Are you okay? You were crying just now.”
“I’m not the one stuck on bed rest.”
Lena huffs, her breath blowing across Kara’s face. “The Kryptonite beam didn’t hit you, did it? I’m not sure, with my powers…”
It’s this, the simplicity of the concern, the purity of it, that is her undoing. The last puzzle piece clicks into place, and Kara wonders why she didn’t realize this earlier. She understands now, what Winn meant, all those years ago. That one day love would hit her, like wa-pow, and she would know.
She looks at Lena, the way her skin is illuminated by the slowly setting sun, haloed in gold. She looks at Lena and she thinks, I love you.
She thinks, oh.
It’s not wa-pow, like a punch. It’s wa-pow, like a pin dropping in the silence, a pebble skipping across a still lake. The force of it rams into her, knocking her breathless, just for a second. The gift of Lena’s care, of Lena’s concern, of her kindness– it’s so overwhelming that new tears prickle at Kara’s lash line. When did she get so lucky? It’s not magic, but her own love, her love for Lena, that settles over her skin, cloaking, she hopes, the both of them in warmth. She presses their bodies flush together, tries to convey all the love she feels in her swollen heart, through the contact of her skin.
“Darling?” Lena asks, voice slightly muffled from where it’s tucked into Kara’s chest.
One day, her sister’s wedding in fact, many months from now, Kara will tell her. She will tell Lena about what she realized on this day, her last secret, and then there will be no more secrets between them. She’ll walk out into a flower covered glade, and she’ll sink down into a chair and she’ll see her then, wearing a purple satin number with a sinful neckline plunging from clavicle to navel that’ll make Kara’s throat go dry. And she’ll go into the arms of her best friend, her home , and feel the safest she’s ever felt. And when the words el mayarah fall from Lena’s plum painted lips, she’ll be reminded again of the gift that is Lena, of the privilege and the utter joy she has to be in Lena’s light.
One day, after the wedding, after everyone has gone home and the noise has died, she’ll take Lena’s hands in hers. And then Kara will tell her, firstly, about the tapes. She’ll tell her about the time she tried to rearrange the world, and how, in the timeline where they didn’t meet, the world spat and burned sickly green. She’ll put her hand above Lena’s sternum and promise, above all else, above everything, that no matter what, she’ll always be here, where Lena needs her. She’ll feel the steady thrum of Lena’s heartbeat, feel the tears falling down her own cheeks. And Lena, Lena will grip Kara’s hands like they’re the only things tethering her to the world. When they’re so close, noses touching, there’ll be a whispered confession, a flower bud opening and shaking out the last of its petals.
And then, the best gift of all, maybe: Lena, radiant and beautiful like a snowdrop on a winter’s day, will surge forward, and she’ll kiss Kara.
The thing that’s been holding them apart will snap like they’re puppets on a too taut string. The kiss will not feel new, it’ll feel like oh. It’s you. You’re home. Their bodies will slot together like they were made for this, made for each other. Kara will press kisses to Lena’s lips, her jaw, the crook of her neck, her shoulders, everywhere she can, and each one will say the same thing: I love you. I love you. I love you.
She’ll feel the electric current that’s always drawn them together spark into a wildfire. She’ll learn Lena’s body, and Lena will learn hers, and there in the quiet night, in her loft, she’ll learn what it means to unravel with the person you love, skin to skin, mouth to mouth.
They won’t be perfect, no. There’ll be tears and shouting matches, days where every word they hurl at each other is caustic and sharp, barbed with bitterness and regret. And they’ll talk. Long and drawn out, into all hours of the night, going over every hurt, every lie, every betrayal. There’ll be days Kara hides from her problems, tries to put on a strong front, and days Lena walls herself off from the world, untouchable.
But always, always, they will come back together. Kara will make good on her promise. Lena, for all her genius, will be awed that someone’s decided to stay. And Kara will tell her I promised you, I would never leave you alone. And she’ll say I love you. I choose this, and I choose you.
One day, in the near future, Lena Luthor will kiss Kara Zor-El Danvers, and it’ll be the greatest gift either of them have ever received.
But that day is not now. For now, with her realization still ricocheting around her mind, Kara just holds the woman in her arms tighter. She nuzzles her cheek against the crown of Lena’s head. “Nothing,” she says, around the lump in her throat. “I’m okay. Just. Don’t ever do that again, yeah? You really scared me.”
“You know I can’t promise you that.”
“Leeeenaaaa!”
She feels Lena’s shoulders shaking with laughter at her petulant tone. “I’ll do my best, alright darling?”
“Good enough,” she grins back, and they settle. Kara listens to a heartbeat she knows almost like her own, stroking Lena’s arm.
“I didn’t ask you how you’re feeling, and you’re the one that’s hurt.”
Lena hums. “Not hurt, remember? Just tired,” she says, around an enormous yawn. “Just tired.”
Kara chuckles. She’s nearly drifting off to sleep, herself, when Lena’s voice, soft and tremulous, pierces their comfortable silence. “I heard what you said, you know.”
Kara, for all her ways with words, can only manage an eloquent “oh?” from where she’s molded herself to Lena’s back.
Lena intertwines her fingers with Kara’s, from where the blonde has thrown an arm across her chest. “I promise to always keep you safe too, Kara Zor-El Danvers.”
The words she wants to say will not come. Not now, with her arms full of Lena and her heart full of love. It’s just as well, she thinks, because there are no words in the English language (or Kryptonian) that will properly sum up her feelings for the woman she clutches to her chest. So, Kara doesn’t say them. She presses kisses to the porcelain skin of Lena’s forehead instead, smiling against her hairline.
There will be a day when she’ll find the words and the courage to say them. Now, though, now the woman she loves is safe and warm, her slowed heart rate and quiet breathing an indication that she’s already fallen asleep. Now, Kara simply relishes the feeling of having Lena close to her. That’s all she needs.
For now, this is enough.