Chapter Text
The faint jazz that crooned from the record player and the rapidly warming glass of scotch against the office desk had disappeared into the background, just white noise against the backdrop of her inquisitive mind that had tuned out hours ago. Lena Luthor preferred the solitude of her own home office and lab compared to her cold, sterile personal lab she would try and sneak away to when she had a rare free moment while at L-Corp. Strewn across the desk were several tedious and mind-numbing financial analysis projections for the company’s next phase of funding, but Lena paid them no mind.
Instead, she was nose deep in a scientific journal which had highlighted the use of biotechnology and gene editing to develop personalized medical treatment plans for any individual. Lena was in fact so absorbed in her deep dive that she almost hadn’t noticed a sudden and persistent tapping sound from the living room. It took only a few quick motions through the nearby tablet to access the external cameras, and what they caught caused her to pause from confusion as she ponders why Supergirl is standing on her balcony.
She looks down at her appearance and sighs as she was most certainly not dressed for company, but if the persistent knocks were anything to go by, Supergirl wasn’t planning on giving up her balcony side vigil anytime soon. Against her better judgment, Lena shuffles out to the living room, swiftly disengaging the security system so she could open the sliding glass door without the alarm waking the entire building. She pulls up short of the door and watches as the super stands with her eyes closed, her fingers tapping out an inconsistent rhythm against the glass while her body sways like the branches of a willow tree in the wind.
“Supergirl,” Lena offers as a greeting, the sliding glass door no longer a barrier between them. The shorter woman watches, amused as the noise appeared to startle her out the trance-like state she was in.
“Ms. Luthor!” Supergirl rushes out and Lena notices her stumble once the door is no longer holding her up. “I was just-“ she motions back toward the sky, “you know, in the area and I saw the light on,” she says slowly, her words slurred enough that Lena notices a slight accent that bleeds through unchecked.
Lena raises an eyebrow and curls her lips into a smirk. “You noticed a light on and thought you’d what, exactly?” she questions, already finding this exchange more than confusing considering the late hour. “Do you make house calls now?”
“Oh, no, n-nothing like that,” Supergirl shrugs as she waves a hand dismissively and points toward the interior of the penthouse, the obvious unspoken question left to settle between them and Lena is certain this is not a random visit and steps aside to let the blonde walk past her. Once the super’s back is facing her, Lena stands still and observes the other woman carefully; the slumped shoulders, her inability to stand still without swaying, the glassy unfocused gaze and the slurred and overexaggerated speech lead her to one single conclusion.
Supergirl is drunk.
“You can take a seat, you know,” Lena gestures toward the couch once Supergirl turns back to face her, the motion clearly costing her valuable equilibrium as she nods and folds her body into the opposite corner, lifting her feet toward the cushion before Lena’s cough draws her attention and she stops mid-motion, her feet awkwardly hovering above the fabric.
“Were you raised in a barn?” Lena challenges as her eyes glance down to the knee high boots before she meets the other woman’s dazed expression.
“No,” Supergirl snorts, “that was my cousin,” she trails off with bubbling laughter while her legs remain suspended above the pristine couch cushions. Lena watches while the blonde haphazardly sheds her knee high boots and stashes them against the side of the couch. The CEO was sure that when she has a moment to herself to recall this scenario she will no doubt be amused at her current predicament.
Once Supergirl swings her legs back around and tucks herself back in to her newfound corner, Lena’s gaze is instantly drawn to the other woman’s socks and she lets out an unexpected bark of laughter at the sight.
“Are those space cats?” she asks as a deep laugh bellows out around them with a pointed nod to the colorful socks that adorn Supergirl’s feet. Lena watches as the other woman flexes and wiggles her toes.
“I’ll have you know,” Supergirl admonishes with a wobbly finger and a crooked smile across her lips, “that these are peak comfort. I won’t have you slandering such splendor,” the blonde finishes haughtily. She watches as the woman falls into a fit of laughter and shakes her head while the super continues to laugh to herself like she doesn’t notice Lena at all.
“I’ll be right back,” Lena murmurs and quietly makes her way to the kitchen to rummage through the fridge. Suddenly the laughter dies down and CEO turns with curious eyes to see Supergirl still on the couch but now she’s sat with her shoulders hunched forward and pulled inward. Lena thinks she looks nothing like the confident woman who brazenly protects National City and instead looks as if she is trying to collapse her entire existence into nothingness. Armed with a bottle of water and a bag of protein chips, she wanders back and places them on the coffee table with a small thud.
“You should eat something,” Lena offers cautiously as if she were approaching a scared animal that could bolt at the slightest provocation. The super provides a dismissive shrug while she plays with the fringe of her cape, all the while doing her best to avoid Lena’s gaze.
Lena doesn’t press and lets the silence settle between them. She isn’t entirely sure how to proceed but it was obvious the woman that’s sat before her now is much more subdued compared to the one who had tapped endlessly on her patio door mere minutes ago. Lost in her own thoughts, she doesn’t even realize Supergirl has started speaking, the low murmur of her voice brings her back to the present.
“Sorry?” she asks, doing her best to shake away the distracting thoughts and engage with the woman sat opposite of her.
“Glasses,” Supergirl mumbles with a small motion toward Lena’s head. “I said I didn’t realize you wore glasses.”
“Oh,” Lena lets out a confused huff as she remembers the glasses that sit comfortably against the bridge of her nose before she continues, “I wear them because I suffer from hyperopia. Never in public though. It’s unbecoming of a Luthor to showcase such a paltry weakness,” she scoffs and rolls her eyes as she remembers her mother’s repeated insistence for corrective surgery anytime the older woman was subjected to witnessing the thick black frames.
“By the time I was born anything deemed a genetic imperfection had already been eliminated,” Supergirl says with a shrug as her fingers continue to twist around in her cape. Lena figures it’s either a nervous tick or something the other woman is doing to attempt to soothe herself.
As a general rule, Lena is usually sure of the next several moves she will make in a given situation. However, facing a despondent Supergirl sitting on her couch is something she is ill-prepared for and for once, she’s not sure how to push the conversation forward and instead lets the silence settle between them again like a heavy blanket.
She tucks her legs beneath her body and watches Supergirl draw her knees to her chest, arms wrapped so tightly around them Lena can see the whites of her knuckles with the force of her grip. Watching Supergirl curled up at the end of her couch, it strikes her that it’s like looking into a mirror. Lena thinks if the woman were to let go of her tight grip she would unravel from everything she's desperately trying to hold together through sheer will. She's intimately familiar navigating the wreckage of her life over the last several years and tucking her trauma into little, locked boxes to try and keep it together before something rattles loose and leaves her a mess on the worst nights.
That’s when she notices the rapid, shallow breaths and the silent tears that streak across her anguished face. Lena isn’t even sure if Supergirl remembers where she’s at or who she’s breaking down in front of at this point but something about it makes her chest seize, a tight ache taking up residence under her ribs.
“Hey,” Lena whispers, unsure if Supergirl will even notice her presence with the state she’s in. All Lena knows is that in this moment she’s inexplicably drawn to the woman who is heartbreakingly falling apart in her living room. So, she tries again, “is there anything I can do?” When Supergirl’s cerulean eyes finally snap up to hers, the depth of emotions Lena sees swirling within are pain, anger, and suffering personified.
Before Lena can fully track it, Supergirl is standing as she watches her shove her feet back into her boots while her hands wipe furiously at her face. She can feel the tension like it’s a living, breathing thing and she understands. They don’t know each other and Lena has only met Supergirl at the worst times and aside from that, they don’t have a rapport with one another.
“I-I’m sorry,” Supergirl says brokenly, her voice strained with pain Lena is certain she can’t fully comprehend. The super starts toward the balcony and the shorter woman quickly reaches out, her hand gently clasping around a slim wrist before she even has time to realize she’s done it.
“No,” Lena shakes her head, the words falling from her lips faster than her brain can keep up, “don’t apologize for feeling. Please, stay. I’m not sure it’s such a good idea for you to drink and fly anyway,” she tries to ease the tension and she smiles softly when she notices the corners of Supergirl’s lips twitch in amusement. Lena holds her breath until she sees a small nod from the taller woman and she lets it out in relief knowing Supergirl isn’t going to carelessly fly into the night.
“Don’t fly off,” Lena warns before she lithely maneuvers off the couch and makes a beeline for her bedroom. It only takes her a minute or two, but once she’s dug through her dresser she returns with her well-worn MIT sweatshirt and a pair of soft cotton shorts. “The guestroom is through there and to the right,” she points toward the hall she just came in through. “Feel free to use the shower. Towels are in the cupboard by the sink and I’m sure there’s an unopened toothbrush in the vanity. Feel free to use whatever you need,” Lena offers gently.
“Thank you, Ms. Luthor,” Supergirl murmurs while she gathers the clothes from Lena’s outstretched arms.
“Please,” she suggests sincerely, “call me Lena.”
Supergirl gives a small nod of recognition at the offer and unsteadily walks toward the guestroom before she pauses, turning her head over hear shoulder to glance at Lena like this was normal between the two of them.
“Goodnight, Lena,” Supergirl says softly before turning to continue toward her room for the night.
“Goodnight, Supergirl,” Lena whispers, more than certain the other woman heard her hushed words.
The shorter woman leaves the water and chips on the table and softly pads to her own bedroom, the absurdity of the evening catching up to her as she slides beneath the soft comforter and falls asleep within moments of her head hitting the pillow.
Once Lena surfaces later than usual for a Saturday morning, she’s unsurprised to find the guestroom empty with her clothes folded neatly at the foot of the bed and the penthouse devoid of Supergirl’s presence like last night had never happened.