Lena and Supergirl/Kara havenât been talking for ages. Come Christmas time, Lena is drinking and angsty thinking about how Kara is probably having a great Christmas without her but Supergirl crashes through her window injured and doesnât make eye contact cause she feels bad and itâs revealed that Kara has been spending the entire time since their fight, focused on Supergirl stuff while everyone else was busy and left her to deal with it on her own (I hope you meant to the box rn. Thank you!)
Sheâs not quite drunk, but sheâs definitely not sober.
Well, if she were anyone else, sheâd probably be extremely drunk. But Lena has an Alex Danvers-level ability to hold her liquor - which means they should both, really, be in treatment together, but thatâs for next year, not tonight, Lena tells herself - so she takes another pull on the bottle of whiskey, because sheâs long since given up on pouring it into her glass.
Whatâs the point, really? Itâs all going to the same place. Itâs all doing the same thing to her head.
Well, not really. Itâs only making her remember, truth be told. But itâs different, somehow, when itâs this hazy. Not better, but⌠but at least she has an excuse, now, to not work. To wallow, just a little, in her own agony.
Just when sheâd thought sheâd found a family. Just when she thought sheâd foundâŚ
Well, sheâd made the transition from wine to whiskey fairly quickly.
Because itâs Christmas Eve and everything hurts, and there is literally nothing she can latch her mind on that doesnât remind her of Kara.
That doesnât remind her of everything she thought she had, everything she was stupid enough to believe - for once - that she wouldnât lose.
Of course she lost it. She was a Luthor, after all.
But no, sheâs been realizing recently. Itâs not because sheâs a Luthor. Sheâs been hiding behind her last name, her damn familyâs damn legacy, for too long now. Because, sheâs realizing as a rare snow starts falling in National City - it would be beautiful, wouldnât it, if she had someone to share it with, if she werenât completely and utterly alone with every single way sheâd ever hated herself - itâs not her family name.Â
Itâs her. Itâs her fault. The reason everyone keeps lying to her. The reason everyone keeps leaving her. The reason sheâs alone.
Lena laughs out loud to herself, and itâs a sound thatâs almost gruff, thatâs definitely callous, certainly more than a little unsteady.
Karaâs probably having a wonderful time, with the family sheâs built for herself. The family she said Lena could be a part of, and thenâŚ
She thinks itâs her own whiskey-hazed mind at first. The sound of a crash in her bedroom.Â
But then thereâs an âow,â and she knows that voice. She knows it like she knows her own voice, and she hates that it registers so quickly, so easily, in her mind, hates the way it cuts right through the whiskey and straight into all her greatest fears and harshest hopes.
She doesnât stumble - sheâd like to think she doesnât stumble - as she rises and the alcohol feels like itâs all rushing to her head, but she continues, continues, because that was definitely the sound of glass breaking, and as many times as Supergirl - Kara, Supergirl, Kara, it doesnât matter anymore, nothing matters anymore - flew onto her balcony or in through her window, sheâd never, ever broken anythingâŚ
Thereâs a cut on her cheek and thereâs a rip in those pants that Lena had figured were as indestructible as the woman herself, revealing a deep gash.
Kara - Supergirl, whatever - winces, grabbing at her leg, and Lena thinks she hears her mutter an apology, over and over and over again.
But if Lena hears âIâm sorryâ from those lips one more time, the window wonât be the only thing broken in her bedroom.
She ignores the Kryptonianâs apologies and she just slips on a pair of sandals - sheâll worry about cleaning up the glass later, but sheâd rather avoid stepping on any right now - and she surprises herself by how steady her hands are as she steps over Kara into her en suite bathroom.
She surprises herself by how sobering confronting the object of your heartbreak can be. Not to mention the sight of all that blood.
But Lena isnât just a failure. Sheâs a failure whoâs also a genius, and who used to think she was one of Karaâs best friends. One of Supergirlâs closest allies, friends.Â
Everything good used to be.
Everything now just hurts.
But there is some good about what used to be, because she still has coagulants she and Alex - another heartbreak, another loss, another reason she has nothing, not anymore - had created to work specifically on Kryptonians. On Kara. Well, Supergirl.
Lenaâs head spins, and itâs not from the alcohol. Or at least, she doesnât think it is.
She gathers what she needs and she pats the side of her bed roughly. If she kneels next to Kara, sheâll be kneeling in glass.
It would probably feel better than how she feels now, but it would make things messier.
And she doesnât have the capacity to deal with messier, not now. Perhaps not ever again.
Kara obediently scrambles up onto her mattress, still not looking at Lena, still murmuring apologies.
Lena continues to ignore the apologies.
She treats her cheek first, her fingers trembling at how hot Karaâs skin is. The cut on her cheek is easy.
Her leg is a different story, which is why she gives herself more time to work on it.
âIâd have thought youâd be celebrating the holiday with your family,â she says eventually, as Kara sits there, still with her head bowed away from Lena, still saying how sorry she is, how she had nowhere else to go and it wonât happen again and and and.
âI havenât seen much of any of them lately,â Kara finally says, finally sneaks a glance at Lena. But Lena was ready for it, and when their eyes meet, her heart both wants to fly and to shrivel up and never peak over its walls again.
She wonders about the line between love and hate, and she wonders if love is just the braver choice.
She wonders how brave she really is.
âAnd why is that?â she asks, her voice distant, but her mind thinking that maybe sheâs braver than sheâd realized.
âI hurt you,â Supergirl-Kara-the-woman-who-was-her-best-friend-and-sheâd-been-wildly-in-love-with murmurs.
Lena thinks the alcohol might be making her slower, regardless of how sobering stitching up a Kryptonian wound is.
âAnd what does that have to do with your holiday celebrations?â
Kara sneaks another glance at her face, and Lena feels it but deliberately avoids it, this time, pretending her coagulating agent isnât doing all the work on its own and needs tending.
âI havenât really taken off this damn suit since our⌠sinceâŚâ
âUs,â Lena supplies, and she doesnât know if sheâs being generous or spiteful.
âYes,â Kara whispers, and this time, itâs Lena who looks up at her. Because her voice is broken, but not nearly as broken as her face, her eyes.
âSo you havenât been spending much time living a human life,â Lena says, and she doesnât want to feel compassion, but she does.
She wonders if thatâs weakness or strength.
âHow can I? At least as Supergirl, I can save people. As Kara, Iâm just -â
âA flawed human who makes mistakes like the rest of us,â Lena says, somewhere between harsh and forgiving. âBut apparently you make mistakes as Supergirl too,â she comments, gesturing at the leg sheâs tending.
âI was careless. But everyoneâs safe,â Kara looks down again.
A long silence rises between them. Lena knows that Kara knows that her wound has been treated, now, and thereâs technically no more reason for her to stay.
But they sit in that silence together, anyway, a cold wind howling in from the shattered window.
Shattered is an excellent word, Lena reflects.
And maybe itâs the liquor, but she finds sheâs not even chilled by it.
âI know I have no right to miss you, but I do. Every moment,â Kara fills the silence after a long while. âI didnât want⌠it doesnât feel right to celebrate anything without you. I donât want to celebrate anything without you with me. And youâre alone, now, and drinking by yourself and -â
âIs that really any different than you flying around the city alone, looking for trouble?â
Kara sighs, and Lena wonders if sheâll fly right back out the window the same way she came in.
âCome home with me,â Kara whispers. âYou shouldnât be alone. And I⌠I donât want to be without you. I messed up. Big time. And I maybe have no right to ask for anything from you. Ever again. But I want to. I want you. Back. I love you.â
She says it simply and she says it with the most broken and earnest look in her eyes that Lena has ever seen.
And she canât tell, not really, if she means she loves her like a friend or like sheâs in love, but she thinks maybe itâs both.
And itâs the first time sheâs said it, and itâsâŚ
Itâs nothing, and itâs everything.
A fine line, between love and hate.
And if love is the braver choice, maybe the braver choice, too, is believing that Karaâs words are everything, not nothing.
âSo the holidays together, then,â Lena states, because sheâs still too hurt to acknowledge Karaâs love, to say it back to her, but an opening.
Maybe an opening is enough.
If Karaâs spark of a smile is any indication, it is.
And Lena canât help it - her lips tug up into a small smile, too.
Kara Danvers - Supergirl - both - always did have an infectious smile.
âIâm afraid Iâve already had quite too many Christmas spirits alone,â Lena blurts, but Kara just puts a steadying hand on hers, and itâs hell and itâs heaven and itâs everything sheâs ever wanted.
âWeâll make sure you only get the non-alcoholic eggnog, then,â Kara says, and Lena grimaces another smile.
Itâs not fixed. But maybe, now, it could be.
And maybe, now, she doesnât have to believe sheâll be alone forever. Because maybe choosing the braver option can bring her more happiness than heartbreak, after all.
