Fitting Sharpened Edges
"Just- stop."Â
"Lena. Lena, look at me."Â
Lena's eyes stay resolutely fixed on her wine glass, the same despondent expression in the downturn of her lips and the furrow of her brow.Â
Kara squats down, puts a hand on Lena's thigh to try and catch her attention, to distract her- to make her look at anything else but the void of swirling darkness that only she can see.
The touch seems to jolt Lena, so much so that her head turns finally in Karaâs direction. Her eyes are glassy, but her voice is remarkably steady.
It takes Karaâs super-hearing to discern the tremble in it, the barely apparent vulnerability that Lena keeps so carefully hidden.
"You know, all I ever wanted to be was good. All my life, I was a pariah, first, because I was rich, and then, because of my brother, so-"Â
Lena swirls the remaining wine in her glass, studying it intently to avoid Kara's sharp gaze. She can still feel her friendâs eyes on her, keen and protective, angry on her behalf - against reason and against logic.Â
Lena doesnât deserve it, doesnât deserve her - not when she is guilty of the crime, even though Kara wonât see it.
Lena just has to make her see it.
"And then finally I did- just one thing, one thing that was good, and- now I'm the monster that poisons children."Â
Kara stays silent, pondering the irony while she shudders at Lena's self-deprecating laugh.
She hates it, how easily Lena surrenders to her worst fears. How Lena, so strong in the face of the world, faces her battles alone and barely nurses her wounds. How she throws herself at danger and never takes time to recover. How defenceless this leaves her, at the end of the day - and how sheâs so ready to deal herself the final blow.
"Even Lex Luthor never did that."Â
Kara wonât take it. She wonât watch on the sidelines while Lena self-destructs; not this time, not when she can help it. Not when she was there. Not when it's her fault.
âLena,â she calls, her voice hard.Â
But Lena doesn't hear, just barrels on, piling up the guilt on her own unusually frail shoulders.
"Maybe I'm the same. People are sick, it's my fault, and-"Â
"Lena. Look at me."Â
Lena shakes her head and Kara shuffles closer, her index finger lifting Lena's chin as burdened green eyes finally meet vibrant blue.Â
"You are good. You saved everybody, everyone on this planet, and if there is a problem, we will deal with it. But you shouldn't blame yourself for the unforeseen consequences of putting everything down the line. You were brave, Lena, and incredibly smart, and-"Â
"You- you wouldn't understand, Kara."Â
"Why?" Kara asks, the single word like a challenge as her thumb wipes Lena's tears from her cheek, gently, in a steady gesture that has Lenaâs eyelids almost fluttering closed.
But Lena opens her eyes again and fixes them on Kara, the tenderness in her voice not quite masking the cutting cynicism of her next statement:
"Because you- I know you think that everything is good, and kind, and that is one of the things I love about you- but that's not the real world."Â
And Kara rises, a sudden glint in her eye as she drops her hand from Lena's face, and stands tall again.
Raises her hand to her glasses.Â
"You're wrong, Lena."Â
Lena hums in quiet disbelief, affection almost tangible in the resigned vibration.Â
Kara's glasses are off her face, folded in the palm of her hand, but Lena still isn't looking at her.Â
"In the real world, my last name is laden and everything I do hurts people. You know, it's in my DNA, so please, just- just stop believing in me, okay? I'm not worth it."Â
"Really?" Kara starts, and she's surprised to find a hint of anger in her tone. "Then is it in my DNA, too? What about Supergirl's? Does everything she does hurt people, too?"Â
"Of course not," Lena scoffs, lifting her eyes to frown at Kara, "you know that-"Â
Lena stops mid-sentence, the air ejected from her lungs.Â
Kara doesnât allow for a pause.
"I told you that I knew what it was like, to be disillusioned by my parents."Â
"But I- but you-"
âSupergirl?" Lena settles on, voice breathy and incredulous - almost puzzled at the sight of Kara sans glasses, superhero by night, standing in her kitchen with her - for her, Lena Luthor, poisoner of children.
Kara nods, sets her glasses on the counter and crouches to Lena's level again.
"Yes, Lena. And I did this, too, even though everyone is blaming you. I pressed the switch. I disseminated the lead. Me, not you. And-"Â
Kara stops, unsure how far she should go. Unsure if she should keep her last secret, her most precious one, or let it go, just like this. Unsure if it will help.Â
"And?" Lena challenges, and Kara hopes it will.Â
"And you're worth everything, Lena," Kara whispers, her eyes planted into Lena's, one hand on her thigh, head tilted upwards as she gazes up in adoration. "Everything, do you understand?"Â
And Kara thinks that Lena does, in fact, understand, when wine-scented lips gently latch onto hers, catching her upper lip hungrily, filthily after Kara's answering moan, Lena slowly sliding onto the floor as her hands reach for Kara's face, her hair, the nape of her neck, desperate to lose herself in the only person who has ever dared stand by her side.


















