Archive of Our Own

Kara didn’t see it coming, and the moment she stepped off the curb, it was already too late.

One second she was beside Alex, a fresh coffee warming one hand while she used the other to gesture animatedly through a story about Cat Grant changing the angle of an article three separate times before nine in the morning.

Alex had been only half listening, more interested in taking the lid off her own coffee without spilling it down the front of her jacket, though she had still managed to throw in the occasional noise of agreement whenever Kara paused long enough to expect one.

The crossing light had changed to signal it was safe to cross. Alex had moved a few steps ahead of her sister, weaving through the pedestrians gathering at the crossing while Kara trailed behind with her coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. She had been trying to finish a message to Cat before they reached the other side of the street, despite Alex already telling her twice to put the damn thing away and enjoy the remainder of their lunch break without allowing CatCo to intrude on it.

“You know she can survive five minutes without hearing from you.” Alex called over her shoulder as she stepped farther into the crossing, slowing just enough to make sure Kara was still behind her. “And before you tell me she can’t, I’ve met Cat. I’m reasonably certain she’ll continue breathing until you get back upstairs.”

Kara looked up from her phone with an expression that suggested Alex had completely underestimated the situation. “You weren’t in the meeting this morning. She changed the angle of the article three times before nine, and now she’s decided she wants another source before I file it. If I don’t answer her, she’s going to assume I’ve been hit by a bus.”

Alex turned enough to walk backward for a step, giving Kara a dry look as the crowd moved around them. “Then maybe stop rewarding her by responding within thirty seconds every time she sends you something.”

Kara opened her mouth, undoubtedly prepared with another defense of Cat Grant’s impossible standards, when a sharp yell cut through the noise of the intersection.

A cyclist had shot out from between a stopped delivery van and the line of cars waiting at the intersection, moving far too quickly for the number of pedestrians spilling into the crossing. Whether he had failed to notice the red light, thought he could beat it, or simply hadn’t seen Kara until the last possible moment didn’t matter. By the time he hauled on the brakes and tried to dodge her, his front tire was already skidding sideways beneath him.

“Kara! Look out!”

Kara looked up at the sound of Alex’s voice and that was all she had time to do. The bicycle struck her hard against the hip and upper thigh, the handlebars catching her across the side as the cyclist tried unsuccessfully to wrench himself away. Her coffee flew from her hand and so did her phone. The cup spun through the air before bursting against the pavement, brown liquid splashing over the road while the impact twisted Kara completely off balance. She didn’t even manage to put her hands out properly.

Alex watched as her sister’s feet left the ground.

Kara went down sideways at first, one shoulder striking the asphalt before the momentum rolled her partly onto her back. Her head followed a fraction of a second later and the sound it made when it hit the road turned Alex’s stomach.

It wasn’t loud in the way a car crash was loud. There was no explosion of glass or twisted metal. It was simply a solid, sickening thud that Alex somehow heard over everything else, and the instant it reached her ears, every other noise around her seemed to disappear.

Kara stopped moving and Alex’s coffee slipped out of her hand and hit the pavement beside her shoe, but she never noticed.

“Kara!”

She was moving before she had consciously decided to. She shoved past a man who had frozen in the middle of the crossing and dropped onto her knees beside Kara so quickly that pain shot through both of them, though Alex barely registered it. Her hands hovered uselessly for one terrible second because every part of her wanted to grab her sister by the shoulders and pull her upright while every bit of training she had, screamed at her not to move her.

Kara lay partly on her back, her blonde hair spread across the road beneath her head. One arm had fallen awkwardly away from her body while the other rested against her stomach. Her eyes were closed, her face frighteningly slack, and there was no immediate response when Alex said her name again.

“Kara, can you hear me?” Alex forced herself to slow down enough to assess her properly. She leaned closer, watching for movement in Kara’s chest before reaching carefully toward her neck. The second her fingers found a pulse, relief rushed through her so violently that it almost made her dizzy. It was fast, but it was strong, and Kara was breathing on her own. “Ok. Ok, come on, Kara. Open your eyes for me.”

People had begun gathering around them, though someone had enough sense to keep several feet of distance. Alex could hear a woman behind her speaking rapidly into a phone, telling emergency services that there had been a collision and that a woman had hit her head. Somewhere farther away, the cyclist was groaning. Alex spared him only a glance and saw that he had been thrown several feet from the bicycle and was sitting upright with the help of two strangers.

At least he was conscious. Kara wasn’t.

Alex turned straight back to her. “Kara.” She pressed two fingers gently against her sister’s cheek, careful not to shift her head. “I need you to wake up. Come on. Open your eyes.”

There was no response. Alex knew thirty seconds could feel far longer than it actually was being a doctor at the hospital. She had treated unconscious patients before. She had sat beside people while their families screamed at her to do something, knowing that sometimes the safest thing she could do was stabilize them. She understood the clinical side of head injuries better than most people ever would.

None of that mattered when the person on the ground was Kara and the seconds stretched unbearably long.

Alex’s eyes kept flicking to Kara’s chest to make sure it was still rising. She checked the pulse beneath her fingertips again even though there had been no reason to think it had disappeared. Her throat tightened as thoughts tried to force their way in where she didn’t want them. “Kara, come on. You’re scaring the hell out of me.” A crease appeared between Kara’s eyebrows and Alex froze. “Kara?”

Her sister made a small sound in the back of her throat, so quiet that Alex almost thought she had imagined it. Then Kara’s eyelids fluttered once before closing again.

Relief hit Alex hard enough to make her eyes sting. “That’s it. Come on.” she lowered her voice even though she wanted to shout. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Kara’s eyes finally opened. At first, they didn’t seem to see anything. Her unfocused gaze drifted past Alex toward the sky, blinking several times against the daylight before her eyes closed again.

“No, don’t do that.” Alex leaned closer, positioning herself so Kara wouldn’t have to move to see her. “Kara, look at me.”

It took another few seconds before Kara managed to focus on her face. Confusion appeared almost immediately, soft at first and then more pronounced as she tried to make sense of why Alex was kneeling over her in the middle of a road. “Alex?” Her voice came out rough and barely louder than a whisper.

The relief Alex felt was so profound that she nearly laughed, though nothing about the situation was remotely funny. Instead, she swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah, it’s me. Don’t try to move, ok? Just stay exactly where you are.”

Kara blinked at her. She seemed to process the instruction before her brow furrowed again. “Why am I on the ground?”

“You were hit by a cyclist.” Alex watched her carefully as she answered, searching for any sign that Kara understood what she was saying. “You fell and hit your head pretty hard.”

Kara’s expression changed, but not with recognition. She stared at Alex for several seconds before shifting her eyes toward the edge of the road. “I was hit by a cyclist?”

“Yeah. Don’t turn your head.” Alex placed one hand gently against Kara’s shoulder when she felt her start to move. “Just keep looking at me for now.”

Kara obeyed, though the confusion didn’t leave her face. She stared up at Alex as if waiting for the missing memory to return on its own. When it didn’t, her lips parted slightly. “I don’t remember that.”

Alex had expected it, but hearing the words still tightened something in her chest. “That can happen when you hit your head. I’m going to ask you a few questions, all right?”

Kara’s forehead creased. “Do I have to?”

The irritation in her voice was faint, but familiar enough to make Alex feel a little better. “Yes, you absolutely do. What’s your name?”

Kara gave her an incredulous look. “Kara Danvers.”

“Good. Do you know where you are?”

“National City.”

“Where in National City?”

Kara’s eyes shifted again without her moving her head, trying to take in the buildings around them. Her confidence faltered. “Downtown.”

Alex noticed the hesitation but kept her expression neutral. “Do you know what street we’re on?”

“I know this street.” Kara sounded irritated now, though beneath it Alex could hear frustration beginning to creep in. “I walk here all the time.”

“I know you do. Do you know the name of it right now?”

Kara opened her mouth and stopped. The pause lasted only a few seconds, but Alex saw the moment Kara realized she couldn’t answer. “I can’t remember.”

“That’s ok. What day is it?”

“Tuesday.” Kara answered correctly.

“What were we doing before you got hit?”

This time Kara’s expression changed more slowly. She stared upward, concentrating hard enough that a line formed between her eyebrows. “We got coffee.”

Alex nodded. “What else do you remember?”

“You were complaining about oat milk. They gave you oat milk instead of regular milk, and you acted like somebody had personally betrayed you.”

“I did not act betrayed.”

“You absolutely did.”

Alex almost smiled. “What happened after that?”

Kara’s expression went blank again. She searched for it. Alex could see her trying. Eventually she looked back at her, and the unease in her eyes was more obvious now. “Nothing. That’s the last thing I remember.”

“You don’t remember us leaving the café?”

“I remember walking outside.” Kara swallowed before continuing. “I remember you saying I should stop checking my work email while we were supposed to be having lunch. I remember telling you Cat was going to kill me if I didn’t answer her. Then…” Her voice trailed off as she tried once more to reach the missing part of the memory. “Then there’s nothing.”

Alex brushed a few strands of hair away from Kara’s forehead, careful not to move her head. “That’s all right. Don’t force it.” Kara closed her eyes and Alex immediately noticed. “Keep them open for me.”

“My head hurts.”

“I know, but I need you to stay awake until the paramedics get here.”

Kara reluctantly opened them again. “You’re being bossy.”

“I watched you hit the ground hard enough to knock yourself unconscious, so I think I’m allowed to be bossy for at least the next hour.”

Kara stared at her for a moment. “How long was I out?”

“Maybe thirty seconds. A little more.”

The annoyance disappeared from Kara’s face. For the first time since she woke, she looked genuinely frightened. Kara didn’t panic or start asking if she was dying. Her eyes simply widened slightly, and the hand lying near Alex curled against the pavement as though she wanted something to hold onto.

Alex slipped her hand into Kara’s. “You’re awake now.” she squeezed her fingers gently. “You know who you are. You know who I am. Help’s already coming, and we’re going to get you checked out properly.”

Kara tightened her grip around Alex’s hand. “I’m ok, though.”

“You might be. I’m not making that call from the middle of the road.”

A siren sounded in the distance before Kara could argue and Alex glanced over her shoulder and saw the ambulance approaching the intersection. It pulled up near the curb, and two paramedics quickly made their way through the crowd. Alex shifted enough to give them room but refused to move farther away from Kara than necessary.

“What’ve we got?” one of them asked as he crouched beside her.

Alex’s training took over the moment the paramedic asked what had happened, even though one of her hands remained firmly wrapped around Kara’s. “She was struck on the left side by the bicycle and went down hard. I saw her hit the back of her head against the pavement. She was unconscious for about thirty seconds, maybe a little less. She’s alert now and knows who she is, who I am, the day and that we’re in National City, but she has no memory of the collision and couldn’t tell me which street we were on. She’s complaining of a headache.”

The paramedic glanced at Alex. “You medical?”

“I’m a doctor at the hospital. Been there for a little over two months.” Alex held out her hand towards the guy. “Dr. Alex Danvers.”

Kara looked between them. “Which means I’m not going to get away with anything.”

The man smiled, shook her hand then let go to pull on a pair of gloves. “Probably not.”

The assessment began, and Alex stayed close while Kara answered questions she had already been asked once. Her pupils reacted normally. Her speech was clear. She had equal strength in both hands and no numbness or tingling in her extremities. Nothing immediately suggested a catastrophic neurological injury, but the memory loss, loss of consciousness and the force of the impact were enough that nobody was going to let her simply go home.

When the paramedic reached for a penlight, Kara’s expression soured. “I hate that thing.”

Alex gave her a look. “Co-operate please.”

“You don’t have to sound so pleased about it.”

“I’m not pleased. I’m trying very hard not to strangle you.”

The paramedic moved the light across Kara’s pupils and then glanced toward Alex. “Any vomiting?”

“No.”

Kara swallowed hard, and almost immediately the colour seemed to drain from her face. Her lips pressed together as she breathed carefully through her nose, her eyes squeezing shut for a second as though she were trying to ride out a sudden wave of discomfort without drawing attention to it.

Alex noticed the change at once. She had been watching Kara too closely since the moment she opened her eyes not to. “Nausea?” she asked, her voice losing some of its earlier teasing as she leaned a little closer.

Kara hesitated, clearly debating whether she could get away with brushing it off. When another unsettled feeling rolled through her stomach however, she gave up and reluctantly admitted. “A little.”

Alex exhaled slowly through her nose, the concern on her face deepening despite her effort to keep it contained. “You could’ve mentioned that.” she said, making it clear that Kara withholding symptoms wasn’t going to make any of this easier.

“It just started.” Kara defended quietly. She swallowed again and kept her head as still as possible, suddenly very aware that even the smallest movement seemed to make everything feel worse.

Alex watched her for another moment before asking her again. “What about dizziness?”

Kara’s eyes shifted toward her. There was another pause, followed by the same reluctant look she had given before. “A little of that too.” The paramedic nodded and began preparing a C-collar. She watched him and immediately looked unhappy. “That’s really necessary?”

“For now, yes.”

The collar was fitted despite Kara’s complaints, and several minutes later she was carefully transferred from the road to the stretcher. The change in position made her face pale noticeably, and she squeezed her eyes shut as though trying to stop the world from moving around her. She opened her eyes again, but the moment the stretcher started moving, her attention snapped to Alex. The bravado she had been maintaining slipped enough for uncertainty to show through. “You’re coming with me, right?”

Alex didn’t hesitate. “Of course I am.”

The answer seemed to settle something in Kara. Her fingers loosened around the edge of the blanket as she nodded and allowed the paramedics to load her into the ambulance. Alex climbed in behind them.

The ride to National City General took less than fifteen minutes, though it felt considerably longer. Alex sat near Kara’s shoulder while the paramedics continued monitoring her, answering questions when necessary and watching every subtle change in her sister’s expression.

Kara’s headache worsened as they drove. She became quieter, her earlier sarcasm fading as the motion of the ambulance aggravated both the dizziness and nausea. She kept her eyes closed whenever she could get away with it, opening them whenever someone asked her another question.

Halfway to the hospital, Kara looked toward Alex again. “Did you call Lena?”

Alex blinked, caught slightly off guard by the question. “No, not yet.”

Kara frowned. “Why not?”

“Because you were hit by a bicycle less than half an hour ago and I’ve been a little busy making sure your brain still works.”

Kara’s brow remained furrowed. “She’ll worry.”

“She doesn’t know anything happened.”

“Just call her please.”

Alex studied her sister for a moment. It wasn’t unusual for Kara to want Lena when something happened. She knew they were close and Kara called Lena about almost everything, sometimes before she called Alex. Still, there was something about the urgency in her tone that made Alex pause. “I’ll call her once we’re at the hospital and I know what I’m telling her.”

Kara looked dissatisfied. “Promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

That seemed to be enough. Kara settled back against the stretcher and closed her eyes again.

By the time they reached the emergency department, Alex’s initial panic had settled. Kara was awake. She was responsive. She could answer questions. Those were all good things, but Alex had been doing this long enough to know that head injuries didn’t always announce their worst consequences immediately.

The moment they passed through the doors, however, Alex was forced into a position she hated almost as much as the waiting itself. On any other day, she would have known exactly where to go, who to call and what needed to happen next. She knew the emergency physicians on duty, which radiologist would probably read the scans, knew which nurses were likely covering the section Kara would be taken into and knew the protocols well enough that she could have anticipated half the orders before they were entered.

None of that meant she could actually treat her sister.

The paramedics transferred Kara over to the emergency department team while Alex followed close behind, only to have one of the nurses gently stop her before she could instinctively move around the side of the bed.

“Dr. Danvers.” Dr. Patel was approaching from the other side of the room, already pulling on gloves as she glanced over Kara’s chart. Alex knew her well enough to recognize the expression on her face before she said anything.

Professional first. Sympathetic second. And very clearly not about to let Alex anywhere near the clinical side of this.

“I know.” Alex said before she could be reminded. She exhaled through her nose and stepped back half a pace, though every part of her resisted doing it. “She’s my sister. I know I can’t be involved in her care.”

Kara, still lying on the stretcher, shifted her eyes between them. “That sounds ominous.”

“It isn’t.” Alex answered automatically, though she had to stop herself from reaching for the blood pressure cuff when one of the nurses adjusted it. “It’s just standard practice. Doctors generally don’t treat immediate family when there are other physicians available to take over, especially when it’s something more serious than a minor injury.”

Dr. Patel nodded once as she moved closer to Kara. “And fortunately for you, there are plenty of other doctors here.”

Kara looked toward Alex again, noticing the tension in her face. “So you have to behave like a normal sister now?”

Alex gave her a flat look. “I have never behaved like a normal sister in my life.”

“That’s true.”

The exchange was enough to ease some of the tightness in the room, but only briefly.

Dr. Patel began asking Kara questions Alex had already asked at the scene. Name. Date. Location. What she remembered. Whether she had vomited. Whether she had blurred vision or ringing in her ears. Alex stood near the wall and listened to every answer while keeping her arms folded tightly across her chest so she wouldn’t interfere.

At one point Kara hesitated before answering a question about the moments immediately before the impact, and Alex’s entire attention sharpened. Dr. Patel noticed too, but where Alex wanted to step in, ask follow-up questions and compare Kara’s answers against what she had said at the scene, she had to let someone else do it.

“We’re sending her for a CT.” Dr. Patel said once she had finished the initial examination, her attention shifting toward the nurse beside the bed as she made sure the order had gone through.

Alex nodded almost immediately. She had been expecting that from the moment Kara admitted she couldn’t remember the collision. “I figured.”

“I want head and neck imaging given the loss of consciousness and the mechanism of the fall.” Patel continued. Her tone remained calm and matter-of-fact, but there was no mistaking that she was taking the injury seriously.

Alex gave another small nod. “I agree.” The words came automatically, the doctor in her still trying to stay involved even though she knew perfectly well she wasn’t supposed to be making decisions about Kara’s care.

Dr. Patel’s face softened at that. She had worked with Alex long enough to know exactly what was happening. “You don’t have to agree, Alex.” she reminded her gently. “You’re not her doctor today.”

Alex’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. She knew Patel was right, and that somehow made it more frustrating. Standing there while someone else examined Kara went against every instinct she had, especially when she understood exactly what they were checking for and why. “I know.”

Dr. Patel simply watched her. There was no judgment there, only understanding, but she didn’t give Alex the opportunity to argue her way back into the clinical side of things either. Instead, her attention shifted toward the clock on the wall before she looked back at her. “You also need to deal with your shift.”

That finally dragged Alex’s attention away from Kara. Her shift. The thought had barely crossed her mind since the accident. She had been so focused on Kara from the moment the bicycle struck her that everything else had simply disappeared into the background. Work, appointments, patients, the rest of her schedule. None of it had felt remotely important while she was kneeling in the middle of the road waiting for Kara to open her eyes.

Alex glanced toward the clock on the wall and felt a small jolt of surprise when she realized how much time had passed. Her lunch break had ended more than forty minutes ago, and under normal circumstances she would already have been back upstairs, probably halfway through her next patient by now. She was rarely late back from lunch, and when she was, there was usually a reason involving a patient rather than her own life collapsing in the middle of an intersection.

Today, however, she couldn’t imagine walking back upstairs and carrying on as though nothing had happened. “I’ll call.” Alex said.

Dr. Patel nodded. “Take the afternoon.”

Alex looked at her. “I can go back once the scan’s done.”

The doctors face made it obvious she considered that a ridiculous suggestion. “You just watched your sister get hit by a bicycle and lose consciousness. You’re not going back upstairs and trying to concentrate on patients while she’s being monitored down here.”

“I’m fine.”

Kara made a sound from the bed and both doctors looked at her. She raised her eyebrows. “That’s my line.”

Despite herself, Dr. Patel smiled.

Alex didn’t. “I can work.”

“No. You can call your department, tell them you have a family emergency and let them arrange cover.”

Alex’s instinct was to argue. It was always her instinct. She hated leaving colleagues short-staffed. She knew exactly how one unexpected absence could make the rest of the afternoon harder for everyone else. She also knew that she had responsibilities beyond being Kara’s sister. But then she looked at Kara and the argument died before it reached her mouth. “Fine.”

Dr. Patel nodded, apparently satisfied. “Alright. Your sister will be looked after.”

Alex stepped into the corridor a few minutes later and called her department. She barely made it through the explanation before her supervisor interrupted and told her not to worry about coming back. “I can finish the afternoon.” she insisted anyway, leaning against the wall while keeping Kara’s bay within sight. “She’s being seen down here. I’m not treating her.”

“That isn’t the point.” Her supervisor continued before she could argue further. “You’re distracted, Alex. You should be. She’s your sister. We’ll cover you.”

Alex looked through the doorway again.

Kara was answering another nurse’s questions, her expression already carrying the particular irritation she reserved for being asked the same thing repeatedly.

“I hate leaving you short.”

“We’ll manage like we always do. Don’t worry.”

Alex hesitated. Then, finally, she surrendered. “All right.”

“Stay with her.”

Alex’s gaze remained fixed on Kara. “I will.”

When the call ended, she slipped her phone back into her pocket and returned to the room.

Kara looked toward her immediately. “You’re staying?”

Alex pulled the visitor chair closer to the bed and sat down. “Apparently I’ve been banned from working for the rest of the afternoon.”

Kara’s expression softened. “Because of me?”

“Because everyone I work with has decided I’m incapable of behaving professionally while you’re lying in the emergency department.”

Kara considered that for a moment before giving her a smile. “They know you well.”

Alex rolled her eyes, but her hand found Kara’s almost automatically. “Don’t make me regret taking the afternoon off.”

Kara curled her fingers around hers. “You volunteered.”

“I was coerced.”

“You folded in under thirty seconds.”

Alex leaned back in the chair, finally allowing herself to settle now that the decision had been made for her. She still couldn’t examine Kara. She couldn’t order anything. She couldn’t interpret the scan before the radiologist had signed off on it or make decisions about whether Kara stayed or went home.

For once, being a doctor was almost useless. All she could do was sit beside her sister and wait. Alex soon discovered very quickly that she hated that far more.

Less than half an hour later, a nurse returned with a wheelchair to take Kara upstairs. By then, she had been cleared of any neck injury and had spent long enough lying in a hospital bed that the sight of the chair immediately made her frown.

“I can walk.” Kara protested, already pushing the blanket away from her legs as though she intended to prove it.

Alex was out of her chair before Kara could even attempt to stand. “You were dizzy the last time you sat up too quickly, so no, you’re not walking through the hospital.”

“I’m not an invalid.”

“Nobody said you were.” Alex replied, moving to the side of the bed while the nurse lowered the rail. “You have a concussion, you lost consciousness less than a few hours ago, and I’d rather not add ‘fell over in the hallway’ to today’s list of disasters.”

Kara gave her an unimpressed look but allowed them to help her sit upright. She stayed there while the nurse made sure the change in position didn’t worsen her dizziness. When Kara finally admitted that the room was only moving a tiny bit, Alex’s expression alone was enough to end any remaining argument about walking.

With the nurse on one side and Alex close on the other, Kara carefully moved into the wheelchair. She immediately folded her arms across her chest, looking distinctly offended by the entire arrangement even as Alex pulled the footrests into place.

“You look very dignified.” Alex remarked as the nurse began wheeling her toward the door.

Kara looked up at her with a glare that would have been considerably more threatening if she weren’t sitting beneath a hospital blanket in a wheelchair. “I hate you.”

“Good.” Alex fell into step beside the chair as the nurse began wheeling Kara toward the door. “Your personality is still intact, so at least we can cross that off the list of things I need to worry about.”

The trip upstairs was noticeably quieter than the emergency department below. As the noise of ringing phones, hurried footsteps and overlapping conversations gradually faded behind them, Kara seemed to relax despite herself. She still looked thoroughly displeased about being confined to a wheelchair, but some of the tension left her shoulders once they reached the elevator.

Alex remained beside her the entire way, carrying the small bag containing Kara’s clothes, shoes and phone in one hand since they had her change into a hospital gown for the scan. When they reached the radiology department, the nurse brought the wheelchair to a stop outside one of the CT rooms and locked the wheels into place. A technician stepped through the doorway a moment later, tablet in hand, and introduced herself before confirming Kara’s name and date of birth.

Kara answered correctly, though her expression suggested she was thoroughly tired of being asked the same questions.

The technician smiled apologetically. “I know you’ve probably said it about twenty times today, but I still have to ask.”

“At this point I’m beginning to think the hospital is trying to make sure I haven’t secretly changed identities between floors.” Kara replied, managing a smile despite the headache.

Alex stood beside the wheelchair and looked down at her sister. “Considering you couldn’t remember what street you were on earlier, I’d answer the nice woman.”

Kara turned her head just enough to glare at her before apparently remembering that even small movements weren’t particularly pleasant. “You’re enjoying having medical professionals agree with you far too much.”

“I’ve had a difficult afternoon. Let me have this.”

The technician glanced between them with a small smile before explaining what would happen. Kara would need to lie flat on the table and keep her head as still as possible while the machine took images of her head.

Kara listened until the technician finished and then glanced toward Alex. “You’re coming in?”

Alex had been expecting the question. She adjusted the bag in her hand and shook her head. “Not into the scan room. I’ll stay right outside.”

“You work here.” Kara pointed out. “Surely that gets you some kind of special privilege.”

“It gets me exactly enough privilege to know why I shouldn’t be standing in the way.” Alex replied, softening her voice when she saw that Kara was only half joking. “You’ll be able to hear the technician the entire time, and I’ll be right outside when you’re done.”

Kara glanced toward the open doorway and then back at her. “You’re not disappearing?”

Alex felt something tighten in her chest at the question. “No. I’m not going anywhere. Once this part is over, I’ll call mom and let her know what’s happened.”

 Kara nodded and allowed the nurse to wheel her into the room.

Alex followed as far as she was permitted, setting Kara’s belongings down temporarily on a chair near the entrance while the staff helped transfer her from the wheelchair onto the narrow CT table. Kara moved slowly, pushing herself upright with one hand before standing with assistance. She swayed almost imperceptibly when she first got to her feet.

The nurse kept one hand near Kara’s elbow until she was steady. “Take your time. There’s no rush.”

Once Kara was settled, the nurse reminded her to be as still as possible once the scan started and that she would still be able to hear when the technician talked to her.

Alex had seen hundreds of patients on imaging tables. She had ordered scans, reviewed results and reassured frightened relatives while waiting for answers. It was such an ordinary part of hospital medicine that she rarely thought twice about it.

Seeing Kara lying there was different. The hospital gown made her look more vulnerable than she had in the emergency department. Her blonde hair was pushed away from her face, exposing the tiredness around her eyes.

The nurse signalled that Kara was ready, the technician waiting for her to leave and start the scan. Alex picked up the bag containing her belongings and stepped back into the corridor to wait for her sister. She lowered herself into one of the chairs outside the room and placed the bag beside her feet.

A little while later the nurse appeared with Kara back in the wheel chair looking grumpy as ever to let Alex know that they were done and were going to take her to a private room to keep her overnight for observation while they wait for her results.

Only when Kara saw her sister did she visibly relax. “That was worse than advertised.”

Alex fell into step beside her. “You lay still for a few minutes.”

“I lay completely still with a headache while a machine moved around my head.”

“That’s still lying down.”

Kara turned her eyes toward her. “You’re terrible at sympathy.”

“I’m conserving it.”

“For what?”

Alex looked down at her sister, some of the tension finally easing now that Kara was back in front of her. “For when you inevitably try to convince someone you can go back to work tomorrow.”

Kara became immediately defensive. “I have deadlines.”

Alex let out a quiet laugh as they began making their way toward the room. “And there it is.”

Kara let out a huff, but her attention didn’t remain on work for long. After another few seconds, she glanced up at Alex, a slight crease forming between her brows. “Did you call Lena while I was in there?” she asked, the question carrying more urgency than Alex expected.

Alex looked down at her and shook her head. “Not yet. I wanted to wait until you were finished with the scan so I’d actually have something useful to tell her instead of calling while we were still waiting for answers.”

Kara didn’t look particularly pleased with that reasoning. Her brows pulled together further as she shifted beneath the blanket covering her lap. “Can you call her when we get to the room? I want her to know I’m here.”

“Yeah.” Alex assured her. “As soon as we get you settled, I’ll call her.” She studied her sister closely, noting the urgent way she was looking at her that made Alex feel as though this mattered considerably more to Kara than she was saying.

Kara let out a sigh of relief as the nurse pushed her down the hallway and into the elevator to go up another floor then guided the wheelchair into an open doorway and brought it to a stop beside the bed. She looked around, taking in the private space without much interest beyond the fact that it was finally somewhere she could stay put for more than ten minutes.

As she stood, Kara caught her sister watching. “You know you don’t actually have to stare at me every time I stand up.”

“I’m not staring.” Alex replied, though the immediate skepticism on Kara’s face made it obvious neither of them believed that. “I’m making sure you don’t decide gravity is optional again.”

“The bicycle made that decision for me.”

Alex pursed her lips together and her face tightened before she could stop it. “Kara…”

Kara noticed and seemed to regret the joke. “Too soon?”

“Way too soon.”

“Ok.” Kara gave her an apologetic smile before carefully shifting farther onto the mattress. “I’ll save that one for tomorrow.”

Alex shook her head but helped draw the blanket over Kara’s legs once she had settled back against the pillows. “You are unbelievable.”

“That’s why you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

The nurse moved around the bed and connected the monitoring equipment that had followed Kara upstairs, then checked her blood pressure, pulse and temperature once more.

Kara tolerated it with only a small amount of visible irritation, though when the penlight came out for another pupil check, she closed her eyes and sighed as if she had personally been betrayed. “Again?”

The nurse gave her an apologetic smile. “You’re going to see a lot of this tonight.”

Kara opened one eye and looked toward Alex. “Can I discharge myself on the grounds that everyone here is obsessed with my pupils?”

“No.” Alex replied before the nurse even had a chance.

Kara’s eye narrowed. “Nobody asked you.”

“You were going to get the same answer.” Alex shrugged while the nurse carried on with her assessment.

“And we are all done for now, Miss Danvers.” The nurse smiled again before stepping away from the bed. She let her know that someone would be back once the final radiology report had been added to Kara’s chart and then quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.

Alex pulled out her phone from her pocket after setting Kara’s belongings down on the chair next to the bed. “I’m just gonna call mom and let her know what’s happened.” She went to step out of the room when Kara grabbed her arm.

“And Lena too.” Kara looked at her with the most pleading eyes Alex has ever seen. “Please call my wife.”

“Yes Kara. I’ll call your best–wait what?” Alex’s eyes went wide and nearly popped out of her head at her sisters words. “Kara, Lena isn’t your wife.”

Kara’s reaction was immediate as she searched Alex’s face for some sign that she had misunderstood. “What do you mean she isn’t my wife?” there was no indication that she thought Alex was joking. If anything, she sounded hurt by the suggestion that Lena was anything but her wife.

Alex’s eyes flicked over her sister’s face, the surprise she had felt moments earlier rapidly giving way to concern. “Kara, you and Lena aren’t married.” she explained carefully, immediately regretting how blunt the words sounded when Kara’s bottom lip quivered further. “You’re best friends. You’ve been close for a long time, but you two haven’t—”

“Yes, we have.” Kara cut in, her voice becoming more urgent. She pushed herself a little higher against the pillows despite the way the movement made her wince. “We got married. Alex, I remember it.” She looked genuinely distressed now, and the sight of it wiped away any instinct Alex might have had to question her further. Her breathing had quickened slightly, and she glanced toward her bare left hand before looking back at Alex with growing alarm. “I don’t understand.” she murmured, turning her hand over as though expecting something to appear there. “Where’s my ring?”

Alex followed her gaze. There was, of course, nothing on Kara’s finger. “Kara there—”

Kara stared at the empty space and looked increasingly unsettled. “I had it on this morning. Alex you have to go back and look for it. It must have fallen off when I hit the ground.”

The doctor in Alex immediately recognized what was happening for what it was. Confusion after a head injury, memory distortion, perhaps Kara’s brain trying to fill in something that had never actually occurred. But the sister in her saw only Kara becoming frightened over something she believed was absolutely real.

“Kara.” Alex moved closer and sat on the edge of the chair beside the bed. “Hey, look at me.”

Kara reluctantly tore her gaze away from her hand.

Alex reached over and took it gently between both of hers. “You’re ok.”

Kara’s face tightened. “Then why are you telling me she isn’t my wife?”

There was no point continuing to push the truth when every correction only seemed to make Kara more anxious. She had already spent the afternoon dealing with a concussion, dizziness, nausea and the fear of waking up in the middle of the street without remembering what had happened. Alex wasn’t about to turn a strange memory problem into another source of panic if she could avoid it.

“Ok.” Alex squeezed Kara’s fingers. “Forget what I said for a second.”

Kara still looked wary. “You said she wasn’t my wife.”

“I know.” Alex replied gently. “And I shouldn’t have argued with you when you’re already exhausted and your head hurts. I’m sorry.” she changed course before the anxiety could build again. “Lena is fine. She’s probably at work right now, and I’m going to call her exactly like you asked.”

Some of the tension left Kara’s shoulders. “You will?”

“Yes.” Alex nodded. “I’m calling Mom first so she doesn’t hear about this from somebody else and completely lose her mind, and then I’ll call Lena.”

Kara continued holding onto her hand. “My wife.”

Alex swallowed back the instinctive response that tried to rise. Instead, she nodded slowly. “Yeah. Lena.” That was apparently enough.

Kara visibly relaxed against the pillows, though her fingers remained curled around Alex’s for another few seconds before she finally let go. “Tell her I’m ok.”

“I will.”

“And tell her not to worry.”

Alex almost smiled at that. “I can tell her. I can’t promise she’ll listen.”

A smile finally appeared on Kara’s face. “She never does.”

The familiarity in the way she said it made Alex pause again. Kara didn’t sound confused at all. She sounded like someone talking about a spouse she had known for years, someone whose habits she could predict without thinking. Alex pushed the thought aside. Whatever Kara believed right now, figuring out where it had come from could wait until she was calmer.

“I’ll be right outside.” Alex promised as she stood again. “Don’t try to get up while I’m gone.”

Kara gave her a tired look. “I wasn’t going to.”

Alex pointed toward her. “I know you.”

“And apparently you don’t know my marital status.”

Alex nearly choked but Kara’s look on her face remained completely serious. “Right.” She managed after a second. “I’m going to make those calls.” She stepped into the hallway and pulled the door mostly closed behind her, leaving enough of a gap that she could still see Kara from where she stood.

Calling Eliza took longer than expected. Alex deliberately started with the reassuring part, explaining that Kara was stable and the doctors were keeping her overnight purely for observation. That did very little to stop the barrage of questions that followed. Eliza wanted to know exactly what had happened, how long Kara had been unconscious, what symptoms she still had and whether she needed to fly to National City immediately from her holiday in Spain with Lillian.

By the time Alex finally convinced her that Kara was safe and promised to call again later, nearly ten minutes had passed. She ended the call and stared at her phone.

Lena was next. Under normal circumstances, calling Lena would have been simple. Now Alex found herself trying to work out how exactly she was supposed to explain that Kara had been hit by a bicycle, had a concussion, was staying overnight and, for reasons none of them yet understood, currently believed she and Lena were married. There was no graceful way to say any of that. She found Lena’s name and pressed call.

Lena answered on the second ring. “Alex? Is everything ok?”

The background noise suggested she was still at L-Corp. Alex could hear typing and what sounded like papers being moved across a desk. “Hey.” she leaned against the wall outside Kara’s room. “Before I say anything else, Kara’s ok.”

Everything on Lena’s end went quiet. The change was so sudden Alex could practically picture her hands freezing over the keyboard. “What happened?”

Alex closed her eyes. “She had an accident downtown earlier today. A cyclist came through the crossing and hit her. She fell and hit the back of her head on the pavement.”

There was a beat of silence before Lena asked, much more quietly. “How badly?”

“She lost consciousness for around thirty seconds.” Alex continued before Lena could interrupt. “She does have a concussion, though, and she was having some dizziness and nausea so they’re keeping her overnight for observation.” she heard a chair scrape sharply against the floor. “She’s awake, she’s talking, and she’s been arguing with me for the last several hours, which is probably the most reassuring thing she could possibly be doing.”

“I’m coming right now.”

Alex had expected that before she even made the call. “I figured.”

There was movement on the other end again, followed by the unmistakable sound of Lena gathering her things. “Send me the room number.”

“I will.”

“Does she know you called me?”

Alex glanced through the gap in the doorway. Kara was resting against the pillows, but she wasn’t asleep. Her eyes were fixed toward the door, waiting. “Yeah.” she replied. “Actually, she specifically asked me to.”

Something about Lena’s movement stopped. “She asked for me?”

“Very specifically.”

There was a pause before Lena answered. “Can I talk to her?”

“You can, but…” Alex trailed off and rubbed a hand over her forehead, trying to work out how to phrase what she needed to say without making it sound worse than it already was. “There’s something else I need to warn you about before you get here.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Not physically.” Alex answered quickly, wanting to stop that thought before Lena’s mind ran somewhere catastrophic. “At least, nothing new. But the concussion seems to be messing with her memory a little more than we first realized.”

“What does that mean?”

Alex looked through the doorway again. Kara had closed her eyes now, the tension that had been there earlier finally gone from her face. She looked calmer than she had when Alex had tried correcting her, one hand resting loosely over the blanket while she waited for Lena to arrive. She lowered her voice. “She thinks you’re married.” She bit her lip at the silence she received and waited.

Lena finally answered, very carefully, as though she wasn’t entirely sure she had understood the sentence correctly. “I’m sorry?”

Alex pinched the bridge of her nose. “Kara thinks you’re her wife.”

More silence followed, this one considerably longer than the first. Alex could almost hear Lena trying to process the words, turning them over in her head and searching for some other interpretation that made more sense.

When Lena finally spoke again, the disbelief in her voice was impossible to miss. “She thinks what?”

“You heard me.”

Lena was silent for another moment, clearly trying to reconcile that with everything Alex had already told her. “Is she confused about anything else?”

“Not that I’ve noticed.” Alex replied, glancing through the doorway toward her sister. “That’s what makes it so weird. She knows who she is, she knows who I am, she knows where she works and what happened today, well everything except the actual collision. But when it comes to you, she’s completely convinced the two of you are married.”

Lena still didn’t answer, and Alex could practically picture the look on her face.

“I tried telling her you weren’t.” Alex continued more seriously. “She got really upset. She started asking where her ring was and insisting that it must have fallen off in the accident.” She took a breath. “I don’t know where it’s coming from yet. Could just be her brain mixing things up while she’s concussed, but until we know more, I don’t want to keep upsetting her by arguing about it.”

Lena finally found her voice, though when she spoke there was still a trace of disbelief beneath it. “So what exactly do you want me to do when I get there?” she asked, as though she was half expecting Alex to tell her this had all been some kind of elaborate joke.

Because Kara was now a lot calmer than moments before, was the only reason Alex felt comfortable giving Lena the answer she was about to give. “Go with it.”

There was another pause on the line before Lena responded. “You want me to pretend I’m her wife?”

“For now, yes.” Alex shifted her weight against the wall and lowered her voice a little more, not wanting Kara to overhear the conversation from inside the room. “I’m not asking you to invent an anniversary, start planning your imaginary mortgage or suddenly know every detail of a marriage that doesn’t exist. Just don’t walk in there and immediately tell her she’s wrong.”

“This is insane.” Lena pinched the bridge of her nose.

Alex let out a quiet breath that held very little humour. “Welcome to my afternoon.”

The quietest sound came through the phone, possibly a nervous laugh, before Lena asked. “And she genuinely believes it? She isn’t joking or confused about what she’s saying?”

“Completely.” Alex answered without hesitation. “There was no pause, no uncertainty. She looked at me like I was the one who had hit my head when I told her you weren’t married. As far as Kara is concerned, you being her wife is just a fact everyone else should already know. Just be prepared when you walk in. She might say something strange, or act more familiar with you than usual and I don’t want her getting worked up again while she’s supposed to be resting.”

“Something stranger than calling me her wife?” Lena asked, a little dryly now.

Alex actually paused to consider that before the corner of her mouth twitched. “Fair point.” She went quiet for a moment after that, choosing her next words more carefully. “She hasn’t said anything to me about this before, so I’m only guessing here, but… maybe this isn’t completely random. Maybe she’s been harbouring feelings for you that are a little less platonic than she’s let on.”

Lena gave a soft, almost disbelieving laugh. “I don’t think so, Alex. Kara’s straight. I’ve only seen her date men.”

Alex’s brows lifted slightly at that. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” The movement on Lena’s end started again almost immediately. Alex heard a drawer shut, then what sounded like keys being picked up from a desk.

“Ok. I’m hanging up now and I’ll be there soon.” Lena reached for her handbag and jacket.

Despite everything, Alex smiled. “Drive safely.”

“I always drive safely.”

“Lena.”

The warning in Alex’s tone was enough to make Lena sigh. “Fine. I’ll drive safely.”

Alex ended the call a moment later and remained in the hallway for another second before slipping the phone back into her pocket and stepping inside.

Kara opened her eyes almost immediately at the sound of the door. “Well?” she asked, trying to sit a little straighter before seeming to think better of it.

Alex moved back toward the chair beside the bed. “Mom knows what happened, and Lena’s on her way.”

The relief that crossed Kara’s face was so immediate that Alex couldn’t miss it. Her shoulders loosened against the pillows, and the crease between her brows finally disappeared. “She is?”

“Yeah.” Alex replied as she lowered herself into the chair. “She left as soon as I told her where you were.”

Kara settled deeper beneath the blanket, visibly reassured now that she knew Lena was coming. “Ok.”

Alex hummed and relaxed into the chair. A few minutes ago, the most worrying part of her afternoon had been waiting for Kara’s scan and now she had just told Lena Luthor to walk into a hospital room and pretend to be her sister’s wife. Something told her the next twenty minutes were going to be considerably more complicated than anything the CT scanner had shown.

It took just under twenty minutes before footsteps sounded in the corridor outside Kara’s room. Alex heard them before Kara did. She had been sitting beside the bed with one leg crossed over the other, pretending to read something on her phone while keeping most of her attention on her sister.

Kara had drifted somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, her eyes closed but her breathing never quite deep enough for Alex to believe she had properly fallen asleep. Every few minutes she shifted slightly against the pillows or opened her eyes long enough to glance toward the door before settling again.

So when the footsteps approached and slowed outside the room, Alex looked up first as Lena appeared in the doorway. Her dark coat hung open over the dress she had worn to work, her handbag still hooked over one shoulder, and several strands of hair had escaped the neat style she usually kept throughout the day. There was a tension around her mouth that Alex recognized, the carefully controlled expression Lena used whenever she was trying not to let fear show too openly.

Alex pushed herself out of the chair. “She’s ok.” she said quietly, knowing Lena probably needed to hear it again now that she could actually see Kara lying there. “She’s just tired.”

Kara stirred at the sound of voices. Her eyelids fluttered open slowly, unfocused at first before finding Alex and then moving past her toward the doorway. The effect Lena’s presence had on her was almost startling. Her entire face softened more than Alex had ever seen it do before and a tired smile spread across her lips as though something she had been waiting for all afternoon had finally fallen into place.

“There you are.” Kara murmured. She lifted one hand from beneath the blanket and held it out toward Lena.

Lena moved across the room and set her handbag on the chair Alex just vacated before stepping to the side of the bed. Kara’s fingers closed around hers the moment Lena reached her, the gesture so instinctive and comfortable that Lena momentarily forgot how strange the situation actually was.

“You scared me.” Lena said, her voice much softer now.

Kara’s smile faded slightly. “I’m sorry.”

Lena shook her head and tightened her fingers around Kara’s. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. Alex told me what happened.”

Kara glanced toward her sister. “She probably made it sound dramatic.”

Alex folded her arms. “You were unconscious in the middle of a road.”

“For thirty seconds.”

“You say that like thirty seconds somehow stops counting.”

Lena’s eyes flicked toward Alex before returning to Kara, and whatever response she might have had disappeared when she saw the way Kara was looking at her. There was nothing tentative about it.

Kara wasn’t looking at Lena the way she normally did when she thought nobody else was paying attention, with affection half-hidden beneath friendship and something deeper carefully tucked away behind it. She was looking at her like she belonged there. Like Lena sitting beside her bed was the most natural thing in the world.

Kara tugged gently on her hand. “Come closer.”

Lena hesitated for only a fraction of a second before lowering herself onto the edge of the mattress.

Alex moved toward the couch near the window, deliberately giving them some space while still remaining close enough to intervene if Kara became upset again.

Kara’s gaze stayed fixed on Lena. “You took forever.” she complained quietly.

Lena’s eyebrows lifted. “I left the moment Alex called.”

“I know, but it still felt like forever.”

Something softened in Lena’s face. “I’m here now.”

Kara relaxed visibly at that. Her thumb moved slowly over the back of Lena’s hand, and Lena had to look away for a second before the simple familiarity of the gesture got to her more than she wanted it to.

“How’s your head?” Lena asked once she trusted her voice again.

Kara grimaced. “Still hurts, but not as bad as earlier. The lights downstairs were making it worse.”

Lena’s free hand lifted almost automatically and brushed a loose strand of hair away from Kara’s forehead. The gesture was gentle enough that Kara leaned slightly into it without seeming to think about what she was doing. She had no idea that Kara might have more than platonic feelings for her the same way she did or how long she had been hiding them. But seeing the way Kara was looking at her right now and that she had actually called her, her wife, made Lena’s heart do a little flutter in her chest.

Of course Lena’s feelings for Kara had grown considerably over the last couple of years they had known each other, she didn’t want to say anything and possibly ruin the one friendship she never wants to lose. Then she noticed Kara’s ocean blue eyes drop down to her lips.

The movement was small, almost absentminded, but it was enough to make every thought in Lena’s head stumble over itself. Her hand stilled near Kara’s temple, and she became acutely aware of everything. The warmth of Kara’s fingers curled around hers, the soft hum of hospital equipment somewhere behind her, Alex sitting quietly across the room and the far too little distance separating her from the woman she had spent far too long trying not to fall in love with but failing badly.

Kara’s brows drew together slightly. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

Lena forgot how to breathe. She didn’t move her hand from Kara’s hair, but every muscle in her body seemed to go rigid at once. Under any other circumstance, she would have jumped at the chance to do so. “Kara…”

“What?” Kara asked softly. Her fingers tightened around Lena’s hand as though she were beginning to wonder whether she had done something wrong. “Did I do something?”

The question hit Lena harder than the request for a kiss had. “No.” she answered immediately, shifting closer before Kara could misread her hesitation as rejection. Her thumb moved gently over Kara’s knuckles. “No, darling. You didn’t do anything.” The endearment slipped out before Lena could stop it.

Kara visibly relaxed at the sound of it. She tipped her face up slightly, clearly expecting Lena to close the remaining distance now that she had been reassured. The movement was so instinctive that Lena’s heart gave one painful thud against her ribs.

For one selfish moment, Lena imagined doing it. She imagined leaning down and finally finding out what Kara’s mouth felt like against hers. She imagined Kara smiling into the kiss, imagined that hand tightening around hers for a completely different reason, imagined taking the thing she had wanted for longer than she was prepared to admit. Then reality came crashing back like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped over her head.

Kara had a concussion and she believed they were married. She wasn’t asking Lena to kiss her because she had finally decided to cross the line between them. She was asking because, in the version of reality currently occupying her injured mind, they had already crossed it countless times before.

Lena couldn’t pretend that distinction didn’t matter simply because she wanted the same thing. Instead of moving toward Kara’s mouth, Lena lifted her hand from Kara’s hair and cupped her cheek carefully. Kara leaned into the touch at once, her eyes beginning to close in expectation. Lena’s chest tightened and she bent forward. At the last second, she leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to Kara’s forehead instead and Lena allowed the kiss to linger for only a moment before pulling back, her palm still resting against Kara’s cheek.

Kara opened her eyes. The expression on her face was almost comically confused. She stared at Lena before she wrinkled her nose. “That’s not what I meant.”

Despite the nervous tension twisting through her, Lena nearly laughed. “I know.”

Kara blinked. “Then why did you kiss my forehead?”

Lena searched for an explanation that wouldn’t upset her and wouldn’t require her to tell a lie she’d have to keep building on later. “Because you have a concussion. And because you were unconscious a few hours ago, and right now I’m much more interested in making sure you rest than anything else.”

Kara’s confusion remained. “That doesn’t mean you can’t kiss me.” Lena’s lips parted, but Kara continued before she could answer. “You kiss me when I’m sick.”

Alex made a tiny sound from across the room.

Lena’s eyes flicked toward her and Alex immediately looked down at her phone, though the way her lips were pressed together made it obvious she was fighting a smile.

Traitor.

Lena turned back toward Kara. Apparently, the imaginary marriage in Kara’s head came with enough history that Kara expected Lena to know the rules. “I’m sure I do.”

Kara’s brow furrowed. “You’re sure?”

Lena realized her mistake immediately when Kara was looking at her with increasing suspicion now, and Lena could almost see another wave of confusion beginning to form. She adjusted quickly. “What I mean is, this is different. Having the flu or a cold is one thing. You hit your head hard enough to lose consciousness today.”

Kara seemed to consider that. Her eyes searched Lena’s face. “Are you scared I’m going to hurt myself by kissing you?”

Lena had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “No.” she said, and this time the warmth in her voice came more naturally. “I don’t think kissing me is going to cause another concussion.”

Kara’s expression softened slightly. “Then I don’t see the problem.”

Of course she didn’t.

Lena ran her thumb lightly along Kara’s cheekbone. “The problem is that you’re tired, your head hurts and you need to rest. So for tonight, I’m being boring and responsible.”

Kara gave her an unimpressed look. “You’re always boring and responsible.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

A smile finally appeared on Kara’s face. “You heard me.”

Lena stared at her for another second before allowing herself a small smile in return. “Apparently marriage has made you very brave.”

Kara looked puzzled by the wording for only a moment before the expression disappeared. “You married me knowing exactly what you were getting.”

The words landed harder than Kara could possibly have known and Lena’s smile faltered. She lowered her gaze to their joined hands. “I suppose I did.” she murmured, keeping the answer vague enough that she didn’t feel as though she were claiming something that wasn’t hers.

Kara seemed satisfied. She relaxed farther into the pillows but didn’t release Lena’s hand. After a little while, she looked at her again. “You owe me one, though.”

Lena looked back at her. “Do I?”

“Yes.” Kara replied, sounding completely serious despite the tiredness dragging at her voice. “When my head stops hurting.”

Lena’s heart stumbled again. She knew she shouldn’t encourage it. She knew Kara might wake tomorrow remembering none of this, or worse, remembering enough to be mortified by everything she had said so she settled for another gentle stroke of her thumb across Kara’s knuckles and gave her the safest answer she could. “We’ll talk about it when you’re feeling like yourself again.”

Kara’s brows drew together at the strange phrasing, but exhaustion apparently won before she could question it. Her eyelids lowered, and she relaxed beneath Lena’s touch. “Fine.” she murmured. “But I’m remembering that.”

Lena looked at her and something about that felt dangerously close to a promise. “I have no doubt you will.”

********

After the accident, Kara was beginning to discover that recovering from a concussion was somehow both exhausting and incredibly boring. She had been discharged from the hospital the morning after her overnight observation with a list of instructions long enough to make her wonder whether the doctors expected her to spend the next week wrapped in bubble wrap.

No driving until the dizziness had completely cleared. Limited screen time while the headaches persisted. No alcohol. No strenuous exercise. No rushing back to work simply because she could string a coherent sentence together again. She was supposed to rest, gradually return to normal activity as her symptoms allowed and have someone nearby for at least the first day after she got home. She had also forgotten that she had called Lena her wife, having no recollection whatsoever.

Alex had immediately volunteered. Lena had somehow volunteered louder.

By lunchtime, Kara had found herself back in her apartment with Lena setting up a temporary workspace at one end of the dining table while Alex reluctantly returned to the hospital after making Lena promise to call if Kara’s condition worsened.

Lena had listened to every instruction with the solemn attention of someone accepting responsibility for a priceless artifact and three days later, she was still there. She had technically gone home twice, once to shower and collect clothes and again because Jess had apparently threatened to send someone to retrieve several documents Lena claimed she absolutely needed but otherwise she had worked from Kara’s apartment, taken calls from the dining table and spent an unreasonable amount of time making sure Kara wasn’t trying to sneak her laptop out of the bedroom.

Kara hadn’t complained much. Normally, having someone hovering over her for days would have driven her insane. Alex had managed it plenty of times over the years, and Kara usually lasted less than twenty-four hours before threatening to lock her sister outside.

With Lena, it was different.

Kara liked waking up and finding her there. She liked hearing Lena’s voice drifting quietly from the dining area while she dozed on the couch. Liked the fact that coffee appeared in front of her in the morning without her having to make it herself, even though Lena had switched her to decaf after Alex warned that too much caffeine might aggravate the headaches. She even liked the little crease that appeared between Lena’s brows every time Kara stood too quickly.

What Kara didn’t understand was why Lena was acting so strangely. It wasn’t obvious at first.

Lena had always been attentive with her. She had always remembered small things, always noticed when Kara was tired or upset before most people did. None of that was new.

The awkwardness was. Kara first noticed it the afternoon after she came home. She had wandered into the kitchen looking for something to eat and found Lena standing at the counter reading through an email on her tablet. Kara had stepped up beside her, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched, and Lena had moved away so abruptly that her hip bumped the counter.

Kara had stared at her but Lena had pretended there was a spider near her foot. The next morning, she had reached across Lena to grab the sugar bowl while Lena was making tea and saw that she had practically stopped breathing.

Then there were the looks Kara kept on catching Lena giving her. Lena would be working, apparently absorbed in whatever report filled her screen, and when Kara looked up from the book Alex had approved as a sufficiently low-stimulation activity, Lena would already be watching her.

The moment their eyes met, Lena looked away every time.

By the third day, Kara was becoming increasingly certain something had happened between them that nobody had bothered telling her about. Unfortunately, when she tried to search her memory, there wasn’t much there. She remembered the accident and that Lena came to the hospital to see her but every time she tried to reach anything more specific, the memories seemed to dissolve before she could properly catch them.

By that same evening, Kara had decided she was going to ask if anything had happened between them at the hospital. But then Lena had decided that concussion recovery required actual nutritional value and refused Kara’s suggestion that they order pizza for the third night in a row. Instead, she had made pasta, which Kara suspected had involved considerably more effort than Lena wanted to admit considering the state of the kitchen afterward and postponed her questioning.

Afterward, Lena cleaned up while Kara changed into loose pyjama pants and one of her oldest National City University sweatshirts. By the time Kara returned to the living room, Lena had abandoned her work completely for the first time that day and was sitting on one end of the couch with a glass of water beside her.

Kara paused and stared at her. “You’re finished?”

Lena glanced up at her. “Finished with what?”

“Work.”

Lena followed Kara’s gaze toward the dining table, where her laptop sat closed for what might have been the first time before midnight since she had started working from Kara’s apartment and a smile tugged at her mouth. “Don’t sound so shocked. I am capable of stopping work before someone physically removes the computer from my hands.”

Kara leaned one shoulder against the doorway and gave her a look that made it clear she considered that claim highly questionable. “I’ve known you long enough to be appropriately shocked. Yesterday you answered three emails while you were supposed to be making me lunch, and this morning I caught you reading a quarterly report before you’d even finished your coffee.”

Lena rolled her eyes, but the smile remained as Kara finally crossed the room. There was something reassuringly familiar about the exchange, enough that Kara almost forgot the strange tension she had been noticing from Lena over the past few days.

For the first half hour, the evening slipped into something that almost felt like one of their usual movie nights. Kara picked at the popcorn while Lena made occasional comments about scenes they had both seen enough times to know by heart, and before long they were arguing over the motives of one of the characters despite already knowing exactly how the film ended but then Kara became conscious of what was missing or more accurately of what Lena was still doing differently by noticing the gap between them.

Physical affection between them had never been unusual. Kara had always been the more tactile of the two, frequently resting her head against Lena’s shoulder during movies or stretching her legs across Lena’s lap without asking. Lena had long ago learned to accept it without allowing herself to assign meaning to any of it. Kara was affectionate with the people she loved, and as far as Lena knew, that was all it was. There had never been anything awkward about it but now there was.

Kara shifted across the couch, closing most of the distance between them under the perfectly innocent excuse of reaching for the popcorn. She stayed there afterward instead of returning to her original position, settling back against the cushions until their arms were only inches apart. She could tell Lena noticed by the way her shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly and that was enough.

“Ok.” Kara paused the movie and turned towards her. “You’re being weird.”

Lena put the popcorn bowl down and turned towards Kara. “I’m not being weird.”

“You are.” Kara shifted until she was facing her more directly, keeping the blanket gathered over her legs. “And before you try telling me I’m imagining it because I hit my head, you’ve been doing it since I came home.”

“I’m fairly certain you’re inventing this.”

Kara’s mouth fell open in exaggerated offense. “That’s an incredibly rude thing to say to someone recovering from a head injury.”

The corner of Lena’s mouth twitched despite her attempt to maintain a neutral expression.

Kara saw it, but her own amusement faded when she remembered why she had started the conversation in the first place. She studied Lena more carefully, trying to read whatever she was refusing to say. “Did I do or say something to you?”

Lena hesitated and Kara knows that Lena Luthor rarely hesitates but she saw it anyway. “Kara—”

“Oh my God.” Kara sat straighter before she could stop herself, anxiety immediately pushing aside her better judgment. The sudden movement sent a pulse of pressure through her head, and she winced before settling back again. “I said something. What did I say?”

Lena’s hand moved toward her on instinct, apparently intending to steady her before she caught herself and stopped midway. “First, don’t get worked up. You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I’m not worked up.” Kara protested, although the speed at which she had started speaking suggested otherwise.

“You just sat up like I told you you’d confessed to murder.”

Kara stared at her, momentarily distracted. “Did I confess to murder?”

Lena’s composure finally cracked, and a laugh escaped her before she could stop it. “No, Kara. You did not confess to murdering anyone while you were concussed.”

“Good. That narrows it down.” Kara pulled the blanket more securely over her lap and returned to the important part. “So what did I do?”

Lena’s amusement faded as quickly as it had appeared. “Nothing you need to worry about tonight.”

Kara’s suspicion immediately doubled. “That is possibly the least reassuring answer you could’ve given me.”

“It wasn’t meant to sound ominous.”

“Well, you failed.”

“Kara.”

“There.” Kara pointed at her again. “You’re doing that thing where you say my name in that particular tone because you think it somehow ends the conversation.”

“It occasionally does.”

“Lena, it has literally never worked.”

Lena held her gaze and eventually she released a slow breath and rested her hands in her lap. “You were concussed. You were tired, confused and dealing with a lot in a very short amount of time. You said some things you don’t seem to remember now, and I don’t think trying to force those memories back is particularly good for you.”

A knot formed in Kara’s stomach. “What kind of things?”

Lena shook her head. “It wasn’t anything bad.”

Kara studied her face. “Was it embarrassing then?”

Lena didn’t answer and looked away.

Kara groaned and brought both hands up over her face. “Oh great. I made an absolute fool of myself.”

“Kara, it really isn’t as terrible as you’re imagining.” Lena tried to reassure her, though she knew almost immediately that the words had been the wrong choice.

“That is exactly what somebody says when it is every bit as terrible as I’m imagining.” Kara muttered from behind her hands apparently trying to decide whether she actually wanted to know what concussed Kara had done, before slowly lowering them just enough to peer at Lena through the narrow gap between her fingers. “Did I insult you?”

The question caught Lena slightly off guard. “No.” she answered, shaking her head. “You definitely didn’t insult me.”

That should have reassured Kara. Instead, it only seemed to make her more suspicious. She lowered her hands another few inches and stared at Lena while apparently searching for other humiliating possibilities. Her mouth twisted as one occurred to her that she very clearly didn’t want to ask.

Lena watched the hesitation play across her face. “What?”

Kara grimaced. “Did I throw up on you?”

Lena’s eyebrows shot upward before she could stop them. Of all the possibilities Kara could have landed on, that clearly hadn’t been one Lena expected. “Thankfully, no.”

Kara dropped her hands completely into her lap and stared at her. “Then what could possibly be so embarrassing that you’ve spent three days acting like getting within two feet of me is dangerous? Every time I get too close to you, you tense up. If I touch your arm, you suddenly find something else to do. I walk into the kitchen and you practically throw yourself into the counter trying to move out of the way of an invisible spider. I thought I was imagining it at first, but I’m not so please just put me out of my misery and tell me what I have done.”

For years, Lena had managed her feelings by keeping them contained within boundaries she understood. Kara was her best friend. She affectionate. Kara hugged people, touched their arms when she talked, leaned against the people she trusted and gave love so freely that Lena had long ago learned not to interpret any of it as something meant only for her. More importantly, Lena had always believed Kara was straight. Whatever Lena wanted had never mattered because Kara had never given her any reason to think there was something to want back. But now that had all changed.

Lena drew in a small breath and finally looked away, her fingers tightening together in her lap before she forced them to relax. “Alright. I should’ve told you instead of spending the last three days acting like you were somehow responsible for making things awkward. When you were at the hospital, after they moved you into the private room, Alex told you she was going to call Eliza and let her know what had happened. Apparently you stopped her before she could leave and told her she needed to call me too.”

Kara frowned. “Well that doesn’t sound embarrassing at all.”

“It wasn’t.” Lena paused. “The part after that was.”

Kara’s stomach tightened further than it had a moment ago. “Then what did I say?”

“You thought I was your wife.” Lena said plainly. “You asked me to kiss you, and I didn’t because you were concussed and I knew you weren’t fully aware of what was real. But the reason I’ve been acting differently since then is because I wanted to.”

Kara sat there like a statue just taking that in. “I did?”

Lena nodded. “I have feelings for you, Kara.” she continued, quieter now but no less direct. “I have for a long time. I never said anything because I thought you were straight, and I didn’t want to risk what we already had over something I assumed you could never return.”

Kara’s lips parted slightly, but nothing came out. Then after a few minutes she spoke. “You’ve had feelings for me this whole time?”

Lena nodded again. “For longer than I should probably admit.”

Kara let out a slow breath and leaned back against the couch, still visibly processing it. “Wow.” Her eyes dropped toward the blanket in her lap as everything Lena had just admitted settled into place. Then something seemed to catch in her thoughts, and her brow furrowed. “You wanted to kiss me?”

“Yes but I didn’t because you were confused.” Lena confirmed. “You thought you were asking your wife to kiss you. You weren’t asking your best friend, who happened to have been secretly in love with you for longer than was sensible.”

Before Lena could register what was about to happen, Kara turned toward her and leaned across the small space between them, one hand pressing into the couch cushion for balance. Lena’s eyes widened as Kara came closer, but Kara didn’t stop until there were only inches between them.

“Kara…” Lena breathed, clearly caught between hope and concern.

Kara glanced at her mouth before meeting her eyes again. “I’m not confused now.”

And that was all the warning Lena got before Kara closed the remaining distance and pressed her lips softly against Lena’s.

Lena froze up, seemingly unable to believe that her best friend just leaned into her space and was actually kissing her. Kara started to pull back when she didn’t respond but got no further when her hand came up to cup Kara’s cheek to stop her retreat and leaned forward to kiss her back this time.

The kiss remained gentle. There was no rush to turn it into anything more while Kara was still recovering. Lena simply let herself have the thing she had denied herself in that hospital room, her thumb brushing softly along Kara’s cheek as their lips moved together.

When they finally separated, Kara stayed close enough that their foreheads nearly touched.

Lena’s eyes searched hers. “Still processing?”

A small smile slowly spread across Kara’s face. “Apparently I process better with practical demonstrations and just so there’s no confusion this time, I feel the same. I don’t know how long I’ve been avoiding admitting it to myself, but I have feelings for you too. Concussed me figured it out before I did.”

A quiet laugh escaped Lena, some of the uncertainty finally leaving her face. “Concussed you was certainly efficient.”

“She skipped several important steps.”

“Several?” Lena raised an eyebrow. “Kara, she went directly to marriage.”

Kara groaned, but she was smiling as she leaned back into Lena’s hand. “Ok, she skipped all the steps.”

Lena’s smile softened. “Maybe we should fix that. I’d like to take you on a date. Just you and me, somewhere that isn’t your couch, with both of us knowing exactly what’s happening. Assuming, of course, you’d like that too.”

Kara leaned a little closer again. “I just kissed you.”

“I noticed.”

“I feel like that was a pretty strong indicator.”

“I’m a scientist. I prefer confirmation.”

Kara laughed, the sound softer than usual but genuine. “Yes, Lena. I’d love to go on a date with you.” she took it a step further and slipped one arm around Lena’s waist and used the other to draw her closer, careful of her own balance but otherwise not hesitating. Lena let herself be pulled in, shifting across the couch until there was barely any space left between them. “This feels better.”

Lena’s mouth curved against her shoulder. “Better than what?”

“The weird two-foot exclusion zone you’ve been keeping around me for three days.”

A soft laugh escaped Lena. “I suppose I deserved that.”

“You did.” Kara tipped her head slightly until her cheek rested against Lena’s hair. “No more throwing yourself into kitchen counters because I walk too close.”

“I wasn’t throwing myself anywhere.”

“You nearly bruised your hip doing it.”

“That counter moved.”

Kara laughed again and hugged her tighter, and this time Lena didn’t tense or pull away. Instead, she settled more comfortably into Kara’s arms and held her back.