Chapter Text
Lena feels it the moment that her mother enters the room. There’s a subtle shifting of the air, voices dropping quieter, heads turning—Lena’s among them.
And there she is, Lillian Luthor, mother of the most hated man in America. In some circles. In others, well…
She glides down the staircase with her back straight, an almost smirk on her face, and accepts air kisses from guests and a glass of champagne from a server. Lena inhales, then exhales, feeling her own back straighten and a smile plaster itself onto her own face. It’s familiar. She’s attended up to a couple of hundreds of these events in her twenty-nine years. Smack dab in the middle of Lionel and Lillian, smile on, hair scrapped back tightly—painfully—and Lex, smirking and winking at her whenever their parents turn their heads.
There’s no Lex to relieve the tension now. There hasn’t been for years. Now, the memory of her brother only adds to it, thickening the air between Lena and everyone else that she meets.
Lillian finally makes her way over to Lena, all eyes on the pair as Lillian bends down and kisses her daughter’s cheek, her breath like ice.
“Hello Mom,” Lena says genially. “I’m glad you could make it.” If there’s any bite to her remark, her mother makes no mention of it as she pulls back and smiles down at her. Lena feels her body tense all the same, waiting for the inevitable blow.
“Of course,” Lillian rolls the words out on her tongue, a trick Lex picked up and was very fond of. Lena bristles. “I wouldn’t miss a LuthorCorp event darling, you now that.”
“L-Corp,” Lena corrects sharply.
“Of course,” Lillian rolls her eyes. “Your little rebellion. How do you think your father would feel if he knew you’d removed his name from his own company?”
Lena does not sigh, does not roll her eyes, does not let herself slouch underneath her mother’s gaze. She does swallow the rest of the champagne in her glass. She doesn’t want to get into this argument, not again. Truthfully, she knows that if her father were still alive, he’d be hurt by the name change. There’s only a very small part of Lena that cares. The company was doing enough corrupt and inhumane things long before Lex took it over from him. She doesn’t want the Luthor name on it anywhere, not anymore. Not with what it brings.
“Still angry he left it to Lex instead of you?” she asks, all smiles. It’s a dangerous gamble to say this in public, and Lena watches her mother’s eyes flare. She presses the knife in just a bit more. “And then Lex went and left it to me.”
She still can’t believe that he’d done it. He must have known, somehow, that Superman would best him. That, or it had just been a contingency, one of many. Lex always has a plan B. No matter what. Even, apparently one that will not allow him to take L-Corp back from her, were he to ever be released from jail.
And yet… he still sent a pack of goons to try and kill her.
Lena snatches another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and sucks it down. Not a thought she is willing to dwell on. Not now. Possibly not ever.
“What I’ve seen of the blueprints for the alien detector are quite sophisticated,” Lillian shifts the conversation as if the other one hadn’t even existed. “I’m impressed,” she means it, Lena can tell. Despite everything else, it fills her up with pride.
“Thank you. It’s still in the planning stages, but the prototypes are very promising so far.”
“I’d love to see one,” Lillian says. Only twenty-five years of being raised by the woman allow Lena to see just how eager Lillian is beneath her calm veneer. And that’s why her mother had shown up to this event after threatening not to attend for weeks. She wants Lena’s tech, not Lena.
The condensation from her glass drips down onto the back of Lena’s palm and she swipes at it. “Perhaps,” she says, looking back up at her mother. “When they’re ready.”
Lillian frowns, but doesn’t press on it. Not now. Lena knows that this conversation is far from over. She only knows a sliver of her mother’s dealings with her own organization, Cadmus. But she’s heard enough rumors over the years to fill in some more of the edges. Her mother would love to get her hands on Lena’s latest invention. The knowledge twists uncomfortably in her gut. A mixture of pride and repulsion, familiar as of late.
“Are the rumors true?” Lillian asks, segueing into a new conversation with ease yet again.
Lena tenses. “What rumors?”
Lillian sips her champagne elegantly and waves to a group of women across the room. “About your apparent invitation for Supergirl to attend this party? And your last,” her voice dips low and Lena sucks in a breath. “The one where those aliens were destroyed by… a blast of some sort?” her fingers grip Lena’s bicep tightly, nails pressing into her skin, and she hisses slightly in pain. “Those men cost me a great deal of money Lena,” Lillian says directly into her ear, nails pressing down tighter.
Before Lena can say a word, suddenly, Cat Grant is before them. All smiles, hips swaying as she leans forward and masterfully pulls her mother off of Lena with a great coo of, “Lillian, dear it’s been ages.” She manages to slide herself between them while making a show of hugging Lillian as half of the party watches on. Lena relaxes, but only just.
“Cat,” Lillian retracts herself after kissing both cheeks. “I’d heard that you left National City,” her eyebrows raise. “Left your company. To some photographer,” she chuckles. The word sounding like an insult on her lips.
“Hum,” Cat nearly bounces on her toes, her smile brightening as she wraps one arm around Lena and rubs at her skin, still red from her mother’s fingers. “Well, the rumors of my departure may have been exaggerated slightly,” she sips at her champagne, her other arm never leaving Lena as she stares down Lillian. “However, I have decided to take a sabbatical of sorts. CatCo is in the ever capable hands of James Olsen for the time being. And I get to spend more time with my son.” Cat’s hyper, intense face off with Lillian softens then, and she smiles, genuinely, at the mention of Carter. Lena swallows thickly at the sight. She’s never once seen her mother look like that when talking about Lex or herself. She leans further into Cat’s embrace, away from her mother. Neither women make note of it, but Lena knows that they’re both aware. Too aware. Suddenly, the air feels far too hot, and Lena wishes that this event were over, instead of only just beginning.
“How lovely for you,” Lillian says, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“It is,” Cat beams, ignoring Lillian. Her hand rubs at Lena’s bicep again, attention shifted from mother to daughter in almost a dismissal. “I haven’t seen you in far too long. How dare you not tell me that you were moving to National City.”
Lena ducks her head, a bit sheepishly. She’s not one to become giddy, or enamored with other people. Being a Luthor comes with a certain… steel spine and apathetic eye roll at the world. A knowledge that you are better in a way that others are not. It’s hard to grow out of, even if you’re actively trying. If she’s honest, Lena’s not always trying.
But Cat Grant is different. One look at her and you know that she is not simply one of the masses. It doesn’t hurt that Lena has known her since she was six years old.
She came running into the living room one day to show her father something, and was instead, greeted by two amused grins worn on a pair of young reporters. Lois had bent down, brown hair falling a bit into her face as she grinned and stuck out her hand. “Hiya, I’m Lois, who’re you?”
“Lena,” she’d whispered.
“My daughter,” Lionel had come into the room then, placing his hands on Lena’s shoulders as Lois stood up, leveling him with an intense look that, at six, Lena couldn’t understand. Something about it relaxed as Cat stepped closer to her. “I understand that you ladies are here for a quote?” Lionel had asked.
“We are,” Cat said, the determination in her voice apparent even to Lena.
Lionel had shuffled her out to play and closed the door. Lena had dashed off to find Lex, and the two of them sneaked water glasses from the kitchen and held them up to the door to their father’s study—a trick Lex had seen on tv. It wasn’t as effective as they’d hoped. Lex grew bored quickly and left her on her own, sitting on the floor, ear still pressed to the door as it jerked open and she fell over.
“Careful,” Cat admonished. Lena looked up sheepishly. Cat softened, only just. Lois and her father were still slowly making their way across the room. Clearly arguing about something. Cat bent down to Lena. “It’s got to be glass. Plastic doesn’t work,” she winked, then stood and walked out without another word, Lois right behind her.
Both women had come to the Luthor estate a few more times over the years. Sometimes with a man named Clark Kent. Occasionally for quotes, occasionally as guests—the Luthors always made a show of inviting the whole Daily Planet, no matter what the quotes in the papers said about them.
Lois always had a smile and a hello for Lena whenever they passed each other, but it was Cat who Lena was drawn to. Cat, who seemed both annoyed and delighted by the dark haired girl trailing along after her. Cat, who noticed Lionel’s gruff brush offs, Lillian’s sharp orders, even the darkness building slowly behind Lex’s eyes. It was Cat, who absently handed a tearful twelve-year-old Lena a tampon during a lavish party. Cat, who didn’t roll her eyes when Lena clearly didn’t know what to do with it, but gently shuffled her into the bathroom and showed her. Clinically yet kindly. Wiping at her tears afterwards and telling her that chocolate often helped. Especially M&Ms.
It was Cat’s name (along with Lois’) on the byline that showed the world just how corrupt Lionel’s LuthorCorp had become. Cat, who inadvertently had a hand in people protesting outside of Lena’s home. At girls throwing bits of paper and other, sharper things in Lena’s hair, taunting her in the halls of her boarding school. Until the day that she turned around and clawed at Veronica Sinclair’s face in retaliation.
It was Cat, who began sending Lena birthday cards every year since, relieving her guilt, or something like it. Cat, who appeared at her father’s funeral, fifteen days after Lena had graduated from high school. Her hand clutched in Lex’s, tears welling up in her eyes, because whatever else Lionel Luthor was, he was still her father. Still the man who smiled proudly when she showed him a report card full of A’s in third grade. Still the man who brought her to LuthorCorp and let her roam the halls with Lex, the two of them trying to master skateboarding. Lionel Luthor wasn’t a good man, but Lena knew that he loved her, and that mattered.
Cat waited until Lena was on her own, Lex and her mother off to the side thanking people, and made her way over. She didn’t say a word. Didn’t offer Lena any useless ‘sorrys’ or other condolences that she was beyond sick of hearing. Dressed to the nines, Cat pulled a small bag of M&Ms out of her coat pocket and slipped them into Lena’s hands, and then she was gone.
Lena pestered her frequently after that. Throughout her years of college, she emailed with Cat often. Complaining about a professor, her ever increasing pile of homework, her roommates, or the most recent girl she’d broken things off with. Cat, despite now running an empire of her own, and busy being a mother in whatever free time she clawed out for herself, always took the time to respond. She listened to Lena’s growing fears about Lex and the direction of LuthorCorp, her fragile relationship with her mother, and her fear that no one would ever want anything from Lena other than the perks that came with her last name. Occasionally, after Lena graduated they would meet up for lunch or breakfast. Once or twice, Lena offered to babysit for Carter. Somewhere along the way, the two became… something resembling friends.
She hasn’t spoken to Cat in a while—they’re both much busier these days, and Lena’s too old to be constantly seeking her advice—but she winces at her apologetically. She should have told Cat that she was moving here. If she’s being honest, she was a little bit afraid of what Cat would say to her taking over LuthorCorp.
“You two still keep in contact I see?” Lillian asks with a sneer. She’s never liked Cat. Or Lena’s relationship with her. Something that seems to delight Cat thoroughly, and gave Lena a rebellious thrill when she was younger. “Darling really, don’t you think that your cries for attention are a bit childish at this point? I mean, you’ll be thirty in a few months.”
Lena glares, but doesn’t respond. It’s never worth it to rise to Lillian Luthor’s bait.
Cat, however, has a thing about crappy mothers. Likely, due to her fraught relationship with her own. Lena has only met Katherine Grant twice; she isn’t a big fan.
“Thirty?” Cat laughs, the arm still around Lena tightening in reassurance. “Ah, to be young,” she directs Lena towards the servers coming their way, the dismissal of Lillian so obvious that a man behind them chuckles into his glass before catching sight of Lillian’s glare. Cat starts talking about L-Corp, praising Lena’s accomplishments, and getting a few small digs in about some of her anti-alien stances. Lena grins and gives it right back, beginning to feel like herself again. Cat often disagrees with Lena, but she’s never made her feel belittled about it, the way that her mother is apt to do. Instead, she presents her counterarguments with a genuine smile, takes great delight whenever she manages to drag Lena over to her side, and agrees to table the conversation for a later date when it’s obvious that she’s not going to manage it that day.
Lena never fully relaxes. Her mother half hovers, chatting up the women and men who pass by her as if nothing whatsoever is wrong, but Lena can see the way that her fingers are holding her champagne glass just a bit too tight. Lena keeps a smile on her face and plays the good hostess with ease, and Cat always seems to be right there in her line of sight no matter where she is in the room.
And then, Supergirl herself arrives.
The night takes a drastic turn.
Despite what some may think, Lena is not anti-alien. But, she would be lying if she said that she’s not wary. She’s seen what some of them can do. People have the right to know if there are beings capable of superhuman feats living next door to them. Aliens aren’t all like Superman and Supergirl, there are ones who mean to do humans harm.
And people should be able to know who they are.
(That’s not Lex’s voice in her head. She tells herself. Over and over. She believes this.
Does she?)
It doesn’t matter, a third of the people in this room believe it, and many of them aren’t thrilled by Supergirl’s appearance.
Cat nearly preens at the sight of Supergirl, dashing up and giving her a familiar hug that gives Lena pause. It’s not that… she knew that Cat knows Supergirl. That’s—she assumes—how Kara Danvers is able to get in contact with her so easily. She used to be Cat’s assistant. They’re familiar.
It’s another thing to be presented with the evidence so drastically.
Supergirl beams at Cat, and hugs her back tightly, not realizing that her welcome isn’t exactly as warm from the rest of the room until she pulls away. Lena sees her swallow hesitantly, just for a moment before she widens her smile and walks over towards Lena with a confident swagger.
It’s annoyingly sexy.
“Hello Miss Luthor,” she holds out her hand. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“My pleasure,” Lena takes the hand and shakes it. It’s warm, strong, and sends a small fit of shivers down Lena’s back. “I’m glad you could make it. And please, call me Lena.”
Supergirl nods. “Okay, Lena it is then.”
The tension building throughout the rest of the room thickens. Lena feels her mother’s presence come up behind her half a second before the hand is placed on her shoulder. “You came,” she says towards Supergirl. There’s no warmth to her tone at all. The hand on Lena’s shoulder tightens considerably, and she winces briefly before schooling her face. Across from her, Supergirl frowns.
“Supergirl, this is my mother, Lillian Luthor,” Lena says, voice controlled.
Supergirl’s eyes flick down to the hand on Lena’s shoulder, and the other still holding a champagne glass, then she beams, sticking her hand out and waiting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Luthor.”
Lillian stares down at the hand, then, very slowly removes her own from Lena’s shoulder and takes it. Barely touching her. “Likewise,” she drawls out. The hand is back on Lena in half a second, this time, clasped tightly around her bicep for the second time this evening, dragging Lena away from Supergirl and Cat. “If you’ll excuse my daughter and I for just a moment,” she says, directing Lena down towards an empty hallway.
Lena yanks her arm away the second that they’re out of people’s sight. “Mother, this is my party,” she snaps. “I can’t just…”
“How dare you invite that woman here,” Lillian hisses. She’s more furious than Lena’s seen her in years, and she takes a step back in surprise.
“What?”
“Her cousin put your brother in prison,” she spits out venomously. “And then you go and bring one of them into our home.”
“My home,” Lena corrects. “And whether you want to hear it or not, Lex deserves to be in jail. He’s responsible for nearly a hundred people’s deaths! He was experimenting on human beings! All for some ridiculous petty urge to best Superman. I’m not going to apologize for trying to mend—”
The crack surprises her more than the impact of the slap. At first.
Once the stinging sets in, and she realizes what’s happened, Lena gapes at her mother. The Luthors are many things, but physically abusive have never been one of them. Not to Lena.
(She knows about the cracks that Lex had endured at the hands of Lionel. She pretends that she doesn’t, they all do, but she knows.)
Her mother can be callous. She comes off as cold more often than not, but Lena’s childhood had quite a few hugs in them. Smiles doled out, praise, kisses goodnight. Never slaps. Not once.
Not till now.
She holds her cheek in shock, the sting biting and her mother doesn’t even look like it’s registered. She’s still ranting about Lex and the Supers. She paces the hall, nearly hissing about aliens and Cadmus, and Lena doesn’t even recognize her.
“And then you,” she turns her attention back to Lena, as if just now remembering that her daughter is even there. “You go and you do this,” she’s shaking with rage. It’s so unlike the woman that Lena grew up with, she doesn’t even know what to say. This is different than Lex.
Lex changed slowly. So slowly that Lena didn’t see it until it was too late. Slow enough for her to think that she was making a difference until it was glaring that she wasn’t. He was her loving big brother, then that boy was just gone. But the signs were there, once she looked back for them. Lena’s thinking back desperately now, but there’s nothing. She can’t imagine where this rage of her mother’s came from, but it’s terrifying.
Lillian rounds on her, the arm coming up again, and it’s still so shocking that Lena doesn’t do anything to move away from it.
“Lillian!” Cat’s voice echoes through the empty hallway, surrounding them. It’s so sharp and forceful that Lillian’s hand stalls halfway towards Lena’s face. She gapes at it, as if she can’t imagine what it’s doing there, as shocked by it as Lena is.
Before anyone can move, Supergirl is in front of Lena. Her body blocking Lillian, arms out, almost hugging Lena from behind in her effort to separate them. Lena’s still so surprised, she just watches as Cat marches up and lays into her mother. Lena knows that Cat Grant has a dirty mouth when she wants to, but she’s still shocked by some of the things that she spits out at Lillian. Creative in her cursing: an apparent Cat Grant specialty.
“I think it would be wise if you called it an evening,” she finally says, flipping some of her hair back and smoothing down her red cocktail dress.
“No,” Lena insists, coming back to herself. “People will speculate why you left. L-Corp doesn’t need any more bad press.” She straightens her dress and moves to try and step out from behind Supergirl. Supergirl moves with her. It’s alarmingly kind. “I’d guess that Cadmus doesn’t need it as well,” Lena directs towards her mother.
At the mention of Cadmus, Supergirl stiffens, then whips around to face Lena. There’s a momentary look of betrayal directed towards her that she doesn’t have the energy to decipher at the moment, and then Supergirl is back to glaring daggers at Lillian. But the space between herself and Lena widens. Lena tries not to make anything out of it.
“No,” Lillian says, the veneer of calm returning. “I suppose not.”
Cat and Supergirl both still look furious, and their expressions of incredulity only grow when Lena and Lillian both straighten their spines and plaster on smiles simultaneously, before turning back to the party in sync.
“Lena,” Cat reaches for her, worrying at her lower lip.
Lillian moves forward, all traces of the exchange removed from her face. When Lena turns back towards Cat and Supergirl, she doesn’t know what to do with the matching worried looks on their faces. It’s not something that she’s used to.
The betrayal on Supergirl’s face, that’s a bit more familiar. Though this time, Lena has no idea what she’s done to warrant it. It stings, in a way that she’s unprepared for. Because it’s not just betrayal, it’s disappointment. It’s pain. Whatever it is that Lena’s done now, she’s hurt Supergirl by doing it. Might have severed a friendship. Or, at the very least, the blooming possibility of one.
“I’ll be fine,” she assures them. Because, she’s a Luthor. Her father’s voice echoes inside of her head: show no weakness.
She turns back to the party and mingles, her spine straight, bright smile on, not a hint of discomfort. It’s nearly an hour later when realizes that she has been channeling Lex the whole time.
Her gaze catches sight of Cat and Supergirl across the room, both their faces still tinged with worry. Her mother stands to Lena’s right, the ghosts of Lex and her father stretch out in the space between them. Lena swallows thickly, and tastes bile.
She smiles anyway.
Show no weakness.