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Alex is acting weird.
Not in a weird, unexpected way sort of weird, because she knew- hoped not, but really, this is Alex- she would behave this way. It’s just she’s acting weird. Soft, cautious words replacing their usual banter of halfhearted insults and jokes. Concerned glances every time Alex thinks she isn’t paying attention.
So yeah, weird.
(Now the word itself feels odd in her mouth. Lodged in her throat the way all English had been her first day, slow and unfamiliar as she worked to pronounce anything. Wanting to use Kryptonian, the comforting weight of it on her tongue describing far better than any of the harsh sounds Jeremiah and Eliza urged her to repeat after them.)
It’s the anniversary of her becoming a Danvers.
(Again English fails in a way she tells herself Kryptonian never would. Humans use “anniversary” in such happy ways, worthy of celebrating and overwhelming joy. Marriages. Birthdays. Wars in which something intangible was won in exchange for very real lives.
Not to describe the loss of friends, family, cities, a whole world that has her waking up more nights than not, searching for faces she knows she won’t see here.)
Alex always becomes distant on this day, treating Kara with the same respect that she herself wants on the day of her father’s death- or at least, what they had thought was his death. Grief blinding her to the fact that sometimes Kara wishes for someone to just act normal on this day and not sidestep her in the halls of the DEO with a nod more to the floor than her.
Alex thrives on distance instead of close comforts.
It takes moving to National City for Kara to realize her sister shuts herself in her apartment when thinking of Jeremiah. The first few times she doesn’t dwell on it when Alex avoids any contact those days. Until she had knocked on her door the next day and the smell of alcohol was so heavy it worked its way into her mouth, saturated the air with its scent.
(After that, Kara stays awake to make sure Alex is okay.
Alex may not want her to see her like this, but that doesn’t mean Kara can’t be there for her in her own way.
She makes sure to leave a six pack in the fridge so Alex won’t have to go out, pizza and soda as well. If Alex notices it, she never says anything. Neither does she.
Especially when she had taken to staying outside Alex’s apartment, curled up on the floor in the corner of the hall. Her fingers itching to go inside and make sure she’s okay but knowing Alex needs space.
She decides to stay on the roof, checking every now and then with her x-ray vision after getting pepper sprayed twice by Alex’s paranoid neighbor.)
Kara appreciates what Alex is trying to do, she does, but she can’t compartmentalize like that. Can’t shove the deaths of her people and planet neatly into one day on the calendar.
(She would need years for every individual she knew. For those she brushed shoulders with through the halls. For those she didn’t know but surely had a blinding bright future bathed in Rao’s guiding light. For those who had yet to be but who would have been such a joy to see. For the places that no longer exist even though she remembers the feeling of it underneath her hands. For the buildings so tall that she had to crane her neck up to take in all of its glory or the sprawling spaces she gazed upon from the air during her travels.
She could never surmount such grief in a mere day.)
Instead, she wakes daily with ghosts of Krypton lingering at the edges of her vision, always there, always out of reach when she turns for them. Nose twitching at the scents that almost- almost for nothing could compare to what she remembers of Krypton but close enough that it sears her heart with the mere thought- reminds her of the food that had been situated on the table she shared with her mother and father, of the sharp scent her father always carried after a day in the lab. Eyes searching for colors that after two years on Earth she resigned herself to never seeing again.
Her grief is year round, cloys her thoughts constantly, and sometimes she wishes she was human enough to push it all into one day.
(But then again, she doesn’t. As constricting as it is to see glimpses of Krypton in Earth, it is incredibly uplifting, because how can she ever forget Krypton when she has constant reminders? Reminders that aid her in cementing every thought into her heart to rely on in the quiet of the night. Reminders that have her in awe of how lucky she is to experience such a great life on both Krypton and Earth with people she loves surrounding her on both.
Krypton was a sacrifice that never needed to be made at the expense of blissfulness and greed, but she wouldn’t trade her experiences on Earth for it on even her darkest days.)
The flightiness that has been slowly growing in Alex's movements is unfortunately spreading, and if it wouldn't put a dent into the wall, she’d bang her head against it. Alex catches her eyes as soon as she enters the DEO, striding over to her and leaving a hesitant J’onn in her wake.
“Kara, hey.” Alex's hand flits about for a moment before settling on her shoulder, barely there. “I thought I told you we’d handle everything today.”
“No,” Alex gives her a look, “Well, yes, but I thought I’d drop by and see if I could help.”
Alex looks around, shoulders raising up, “We’ve got everything taken care of. Why don’t you go home? Get some rest while you can.”
“Are you sure, because I-”
“Kara.” Fingers dig into her shoulder enough for her to finally feel them. “It’s okay. I’ll call you if we need you, and you call me if you need anything. Okay?”
“Yeah, that’s- okay.”
It’s not, because she wants to help. Needs to.
She wonders briefly if another reason why Alex avoids her so much on this day is less to give her alone time and more about it making Alex think of her own father and the reason why he’s gone in the first place.
(They still haven’t talked about what she said under the red kryptonite, but she thinks Alex must have some things she should get off her chest as well.)
Alex pulls her into a firm hug. “You got food?” They both laugh, because when doesn’t she, but she nods anyway because Alex will worry if not. “Good. I’ve got some leads to follow up on,” she waves a stack of papers, and from her face, Kara knows it’s about Cadmus, “but call me if you need anything. Anything, Kara.”
“I got it.” Alex gives her another look, and oh, she doesn’t run out of those, does she? “Good luck. If you need some muscle,” Kara grins and punches her fist into her other hand, “just let me know.”
“I mean, I definitely won’t be calling you if I need brains, Kara.”
Kara snorts, jabbing her finger in Alex’s arm hard enough to earn her a punch back. “That’s probably because you can’t figure out how to work a smartphone grandma.”
“Listen, just because you grew up with tech that- wait,” Alex jerks back, covering her face with her hand, “I’m sorry. That was so stupid.”
“No, Alex, it’s fine.”
(Even when it’s not this day, people avoid the subject of Krypton like they do their plagues.
The Danvers avoid it due to a compilation of Jeremiah’s hesitancy, Eliza’s fear, and Alex’s dislike of seeing her remotely upset.
Winn avoids it, because as much as he likes their crime fighting group, he is only able to think of her as Kara Danvers human extraordinaire.
She doubts James even realizes he avoids it, and she can’t help but think it’s because he’s unused to even dwelling on Krypton similar to her cousin he hangs around so much.)
Alex sighs, and she looks tired all of a sudden. Kara grabs the hand on Alex’s face, grips it between both of hers. “It’s fine, promise. Hey, are you- are you sure you aren’t the one who needs to rest?”
“I’m fine. I’ll call you later, okay?”
Alex brushes past her after one last smile, and when J’onn gives her his version of a hug-more of shoving her face into his shoulder before rapidly shoving her away with a quick nod- Kara decides maybe it’s time to leave.
(Lucy gives her a curious glance as she leaves, but really, she’s not sure she can handle another pitying gaze, so she offers a smile and leaves.)
She's currently on her third episode of Gilmore Girls for the night when she hears it.
Three crisp knocks that wait a few seconds before sounding again. Squinting at the door, she scrambles to get up as soon she realizes it's Lucy behind the stack of boxes in her hands.
(Kara makes sure to wipe her eyes quickly. Not that she was crying or anything. Definitely not from something as simple as the theme song.
Nope. Not her.)
Lucy raises her hands, offering the boxes to her when she opens the door. “You know, it's times like walking up four flights of stairs that really makes me wish I could fly like you.”
Kara makes eye contact with her neighbor entering the hall and waves her hands frantically. “She's kidding. Just joking.” She grabs Lucy's shoulders lightly and ushers her into her apartment, throwing her head back to laugh, “So funny. That's her. Great joker- not joker as in the Joker joker but- you know what? You probably know what I mean.”
She's met with only a glazed stare and a raised eyebrow as she slowly shuts the door, whispering, “Just jokes between two friends.”
“You don't think she suspects anything, do you? Because um Alex wouldn't be happy about another neighbor finding out.”
When she turns around, Lucy's hand is covering up her eyes as she shakes her head. “I can't believe I never realized you were Supergirl until you told me.”
“If it makes you feel any better, most people don't.”
Lucy drops her hand, rolling her eyes but a small grin betraying her. “You know, somehow it doesn’t.” Lucy blinks. “Another neighbor?”
“Anyway,” Kara leans on the counter, “What’s up?” She tries not to focus on the pizza Lucy brought, but it’s right there in all its glory.
“Go ahead.”
Kara can’t help the happy sigh she lets out at the sight that greets her when she lifts up the lid, quickly grabbing a slice that warms the tips of her fingers. “Careful,” Lucy cautions, already rummaging through her cabinets for a plate. Kara smirks. “Right. Forgot. Super-eating powers.”
“No, that’s just a plus.”
“Only for you, makes the rest of us jealous.” Lucy taps at the counter, eyes carefully avoiding hers. “So,” Kara hums, waiting for Lucy to finish while wondering what will win out: Lucy’s blunt nature or if she tries to gently lead into a conversation. “Why was everyone walking around like it was your funeral today?”
Kara smiles. There is something comforting in the way Lucy doesn’t shy away from anything, ready to face it head on. There is a clarity that she doesn’t find often in between the balance of Kara Danvers and Supergirl.
“I um today is, well I actually don’t know if there’s like an official name for it? I mean, I guess that would be an unofficial name if I didn’t know what it’s called but-”
“Kara,” Lucy says softly, and oh, Lucy’s watching her. Kara reaches up to lightly touch her glasses only to find she’s not wearing them. Lucy has an ability to make someone feel like they’re the only thing that matters. Not thinking about past actions or how to proceed in the future but entirely focused on the here and now. On her, grounding her in a way that makes her feel innately her and utterly here.
(In a way, she’s wishes she had her glasses. To dull her surroundings when everything feels so raw.
On the other hand, she’s glad. She doesn’t need them. Even with Lucy looking at her, leaving her feeling exposed in a way she never feels with her glasses or cape.)
“It’s when I went to live with the Danvers. O-or when I landed? I’m not- I’m not really sure. Everything from those first few weeks is really just a blur, because of,” Kara waves her hand in front of her face, hopes Lucy understands what she’s trying to say, because really it’s hard to describe. How the days blended together as a mass of shattered plates, holes in walls, and broken bones.
Fingers pull at her own, and a look down shows Lucy gently prying her hand off the counter. She hears it shift back into place as soon as she lets go.
Lucy frowns, and Kara thinks she's about to say it'll be okay or it's fine when she says, “I guess I should've brought ice cream too.”
Kara laughs, dropping her pizza down and pulling Lucy into a hug. There’s a muffled huff of protest, but arms wrap around her shoulders in spite of it. “Are your fingers greasy?”
“Um.”
“Kara.”
She ducks her head, hunching over until Lucy’s able to settle her chin on her shoulder. “Maybe,” she admits, wiggling her fingers into Lucy’s sides, “Hold on, I can lick them.”
“Oh ew,” Lucy shoves her away, face twisting up in disgust. “Aliens are so gross.”
“That’s not what your sister says.”
Lucy pauses. “You didn’t just say that.”
Kara’s knows she’s grinning like a fool, but she can’t help it. She feels lighter and not because she can fly.
(She chances a quick look down just to make sure she isn’t.
She’s not.)
Kara can only write it off as the result of green eyes that are sparkling with mischief as Lucy snatches the pizza box. “I deserve an apology.”
Kara turns her nose up, pushing her shoulders back. “On what grounds?”
“For making me even think about my sister and your supercousin.”
Kara taps her chin thoughtfully, decides not to point out she could grab it faster than Lucy could even blink. “As a member of the honorable House of El,” placing a hand over her heart, she dips her head, “I sincerely apologize Lucy Lane.”
Lucy’s face shifts from mock horror to worry as soon as she says House of El. “Are you okay?”
It’s difficult to swallow, because the overwhelming concern in Lucy’s face is palpable. “It’s fine. I mean, not- not fine fine but fine. Y’know?”
Lucy shakes her head and walks over to the couch, raising her eyebrows and pointedly looking at her when she stays still. Lucy turns fully towards her, sigh full of exasperation but there’s a warmth to it. She relents when Lucy’s face melts into something akin to fondness, stepping over to plop down onto the couch. “I don’t know how I should feel.”
Lucy purses her lips. “I don’t think there’s exactly a manual? And I don’t just mean because you’re from-,” Lucy points upwards.
“Space.”
“Right.” Lucy pulls her feet up, tucking them under her legs. Her fingers press tightly against each other. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“How I’m from space?” Lucy reaches out and pinches her leg. Kara shrugs, tugs a cushion into her lap and plays at its fringes. “I just- I get why people act the way they do today, but. . I don’t at the same time.” She glances at Lucy, expecting confusion. She’s met with a steady gaze. Lucy listening intently, wholly there. “Today would be hard if it was only the day that makes me think of Krypton, but it’s not. I think of Krypton every day, no matter the day.” Kara exhales forcefully, runs a jerky hand through her hair. “Everyone walking on eggshells today just makes me feel weird.”
“Did you tell them that?”
“No.” She feels like she’s whining. They’re trying to be respectful of her loss- losses far too great for such a short word- and she’s complaining. Her ears twitch at the slight sound of the fabric pulling apart in her hands. She sighs, tossing the pillow away.
“Maybe you should. They’re not mind readers, Kara.” Lucy freezes, “Well J’onn is. He- wait, he doesn’t do that constantly does he?”
She’s tempted to say yes, but Lucy looks a little flustered at the mere thought. “No. He tries not to do it at all unless it’s needed.”
“Of course,” Lucy nods. “Well, he’s a mind reader and even he can’t read your mind.”
She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She should, but she can’t. Alex would feel like she’s done something wrong, wonder why she hasn’t said anything for years.
(Normally, she could bear it for a day as she has done for years.
But after the Black Mercy, and Astra, and Myriad.
She can’t handle the quiet, sad looks thrown her way once more.)
“Why do you only set one day aside to- to grieve?”
Lucy shoots her a look that says she knows a deflection when she hears one but doesn’t comment. “I don’t think that’s exactly the reason. Or at least, not the only one.” Lucy purposely looks at a wall, eyes searching before nodding to herself as if she’s reached some conclusion. “You’re right. You do think about them more often that just that day, but that day- it can be more than that. It can be a celebration or doing something to remember them.”
Lucy rubs her palms together. “You know I lost my mom.”
She’s scooting over instantly, slipping her hand into Lucy’s. “Lucy, you don’t-”
“It’s fine, not fine fine,” Lucy winks, “but you know what I mean.” Lucy squeezes her hand, “Every year, I cook- okay try to cook arroz con pollo.”
(Accent shifting seamlessly, Lucy’s voice drops when she finishes the sentence. A little hoarser.
As if she’s not used to saying it. As if she’s not used to speaking it loud enough for someone else to hear.)
Kara thinks for a minute. “Rice and chicken?”
“ Arroz con pollo,” Lucy reiterates, eyebrows scrunching together. “It’s not even that hard. She cooked it all the time. I don’t know if it’s memory or if she just did it so well, but mine is never as good.” Lucy clicks her tongue in annoyance.
“But it’s- it’s nice. No one else talks about her, but when I do that, it’s like I can remember her in my own way without it hurting so much.” Lucy turns towards her, a soft smile in place. “I think that’s what it’s about,” Lucy says slowly, words unsure until they sound, “doing something that reminds you of them, so it doesn’t feel like they’re gone. At least for a little bit.”
“Why doesn’t your family talk about her?”
“The same reason no one knows what to say to you.” Lucy’s jaw clenches, cheek jumping. “What can they say?”
“I’m sorry.” It feels hollow, worthless compared to the lost look on Lucy’s face between every word.
Lucy tilts her head until it falls on her arm, “Me too.”
They’re quiet for a few minutes. Kara desperately trying to blink tears from her eyes that keep coming for some reason. Lucy’s head directed downward, soft breaths coaxing her arm and she almost thinks she’s asleep until she shifts. “Is there something you can do?”
(She thinks of Krypton’s spires and ships and labs and her home. She thinks of its people, their music and Rao.
She thinks of Lucy’s voice softening of seldomly used but altogether familiar words.)
“There's just so much,” with Lucy’s head on her arm, she only has one arm free to be able to gesture with, but even with two it wouldn't amount to what's there. Inside her, that sews itself into her life on Earth thread by thread.
(She thinks of her aunt and uncle. Of her father. Her mother. The comforting lull of their words always accompanied by a warm, solid hand on her arm or sliding gently through her hair.
She thinks of Kal-El’s rough timber that stumbles through the dips of their language- her language, because it was clear from their first moments that it wasn't his. Had never been his. His tongue haltering over the edges of words he tries to pronounce, altogether too clunky and too wrong.
There is nothing clearer in those moments than the fact that her last words to her mother are left unfulfilled. That Clark, as wonderful and noble as he is, may uphold the House of El in his actions, on his chest but Kryptonian, he is not.)
It's easier to listen to the constant hums of life resonating from the city. The quiet murmurs of people talking, hellos, goodbyes, asking about their day. Easier to lose herself in their lives than to think about the one she lost, and she almost does until Lucy's hand swipes down her arm. Fingers pressing against the underside of her wrist, warmth seeping into her skin.
“Kal-El’s accent sucks.” It slips out unbidden, her attention fully directed to Lucy’s head on her arm and fingers trailing softly against her hand.
Lucy chuckles, fingers stalling in their motions. “Really?”
“Awful,” she insists, “Kryptonians have a knack for languages, but Kal- Clark? Not at all.” Kara looks down, “At least not for his own. Or- Kryptonian, I mean.” Her arm twitches when the featherlight touches resume. “Do you- were you ever able to speak Spanish with anyone?”
“I acted like I didn’t know it when I started college.” Lucy jerks beside her, mouth twisting in disgust at her own words.
“Why?”
“I just wanted to be able to hear it for once. Lois uses it about half as often as I see her, and Dad hasn’t since she-.” Lucy clears her throat. “I knew that I could’ve went through without having to take any classes, but I thought- I wanted to have people to speak to.” Lucy laughs, “I didn’t know how terrible it’d be. Fake accents and having to say hello and goodbye for weeks- weeks, Kara- and people still somehow didn’t know what they meant. It was okay once I got to the higher classes. It never felt the same though.”
Kara thinks of Clark, of the false hope that had kindled in her chest at the sight of their crest on his chest before seeing his confusion at her words, before hearing him clumsily introduce himself in her language. “I understand. I thought with Astra- that maybe we. .” She trails off, because she doesn’t know what she thought, what could have happened. That’s what kills her. She’s so tired of having chances right in front of her and then snatched away, taking pieces of her heart along with it.
(She thinks of Astra’s blood on her hands.
Of Non’s body every time she blinks away heat vision.
Of the Kryptonians drifting through space aboard Fort Rozz, still in a deep sleep. One that feels so achingly familiar, one that she can’t believe she subjected them to as she had once been.
She thinks, yes, tired is what she is.)
“Is there something you can do,” Lucy asks again softly.
“I want- I want someone to speak-,” Kara rubs at her chest, trying to alleviate the pain that’s settled there, carved a place just under her heart. “I want to hear someone say hello to me or-or goodnight. I want to hear them,” she chokes out.
“Okay.”
Kara looks at Lucy, confusion spreading at the determined look crossing Lucy’s face. “Okay?”
Lucy pats at her knee, holding up her other hand before walking away. She hears Lucy moving things around, and she wants to ask what she’s doing, but Lucy gets absorbed into her motions most of the time.
Lucy hops up on the arm of the couch, dropping paper and pencils into her lap. “Teach me?”
“I think you know how to read and write, Lucy.” She takes the pencil and colors lightly at the edge of the paper, avoids Lucy’s eyes because there’s hope again, growing and seeping into her limbs.
“You know what I mean.”
“Really?”
Lucy nod sharply, lips twitching upwards until they’re both smiling and if she sighs happily, it’s because she can’t keep all that affection within her chest. It’s tender, curling around her as if she’s sitting in the sun.
“Of course.”
She writes out all the basics she can think of, and a little more, just because Lucy seems to soak it up. Listening to every syllable she sounds out, asking questions wherever she needs clarity.
(Lucy acts personally offended when she tells Lucy that some sounds she can’t physically make.)
Her eyes get heavy, listening to the constant scratching of the pencil on paper as Lucy goes through motions again and again, quietly sounding words out to herself.
In the morning, she wakes up to Lucy holding two mugs beside of her, feet kicked up on the coffee table. Lucy’s fingers dance lightly on the edges of the mugs, just putting enough pressure to hold them without burning her fingers.
“Thank you.” She breathes deeply, nose twitching at the strong coffee wafting from Lucy’s cup. She can appreciate coffee some days, but with caffeine not really doing much for her, there are much better things. Like hot chocolate.
(If she’s being honest, whenever she smells coffee, her brain goes into a panic. She associates coffee with Ms.Grant and Ms.Grant means work and means oh no, where did she put those layouts before there’s another yell that butchers her name in entirely unique ways when Cat feels creative.)
“Ehrosh:bem.”
Kara’s head snaps towards Lucy. It’s soft, and a little unsure- emphasis a little much where it shouldn’t be- but oh, it’s there. It’s Kryptonian, and tears well up in her eyes automatically.
“Oh, Kara. I’m sorry- I thought that was right.” Lucy sets down her mug, rubbing at her forehead.
“No, Lucy it-”, she inhales slowly, tries to slow her heart as it gallops. She takes Lucy’s hand, leans down until her forehead rests gently against Lucy’s.
“It’s perfect.” Sitting there, as the sun spills into the room, and Lucy pressed against her side, she can’t help but agree. “Good morning, Lucy.”