saturnvalor

with a full heart

a fanmix for the version of the multiverse where mon-el chose imra

i’ll be there for you - bon jovi well i can promise you tomorrow, but i can’t buy back yesterday

new year’s day - taylor swift i want your midnights, but i’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year’s day

always on my mind - willie nelson maybe i didn’t love you quite as often as i could have / maybe i didn’t treat you quite as good as i should have / if i made you feel second-best, girl i’m sorry i was blind / you were always on my mind

all this time - onerepublic all this time we were waiting for each other / all this time i was waiting for you / we got all these words, can’t waste them on another / so i’m straight in a straight line, running back to you

the search is over - survivor how can i convince you what you see is real? / who am i to blame you, for doubting what you feel? / i was always reaching, you were just a girl i knew / i took for granted the friend i have in you / i was living for a dream, loving for a moment / taking on the world, that was just my style / now i look into your eyes, i can see forever / the search is over, you were with me all the while

i melt with you - modern english the future’s open wide

all in - lifehouse there’s no taking back what we’ve got / too strong, we’ve had each other’s back for too long

all we are - matt nathanson i kept falling over, kept looking backward / i went broke believing that the simple should be hard / all we are we are / all we are we are / and every day’s the start of something beautiful

71. “I’ve got you.”

“Mon-El!”

Imra rushed forward, just barely getting to Mon-El before he collapsed. She could feel his heart fluttering and hear his lungs rasp as he tried to breathe.

There was a lead bullet in his chest, though, which made that fairly difficult.

“It’s alright,” Imra gasped, trying to staunch the bleeding with her hands. She could remove the bullet with her telekinesis, but she wasn’t sure if she could do it without causing more damage. Brainy could do it better.

“Brainy!” Imra screamed. “Brainy, Mon-El needs help!”

“I’ll be there in two minutes,” Brainy replied over the comms. “Try to slow the bleeding. Don’t remove the bullet. And try to keep him from panicking.”

Imra wasn’t sure that Mon-El was conscious enough to panic, but nevertheless, she took one of his hands in hers while she tried to staunch the bleeding with her other hand.

“You’ll be alright,” she told Mon-El softly, trying to keep her voice steady. “You’ll be alright. I’ve got you.”

10. “I’m right here, okay?”

Imra woke up screaming again.

Mon-El jerked upright immediately and quickly did his now-familiar scan to make sure that Imra was screaming because of a nightmare and not because something was wrong. As usual, it was a nightmare, so Mon-El sighed, gathered her up in his arms, and pressed a kiss into her hair.

“You’re alright. You’re safe. I’m right here, okay?”

“She was dying,” Imra gasped, clinging to Mon-El tightly. “She was dying and I couldn’t stop it.”

“We’ll stop Pestilence,” Mon-El told her, rocking her back and forth slightly. “We’ll stop her before she can become the Blight, and when we get back to the thirty-first century, your little sister will be waiting for you. It’ll all be okay.”

“I failed her,” Imra whispered. Mon-El could feel her tears as they soaked into his shirt. “What if I fail her again?”

“You won’t,” Mon-El said firmly. “We’ll get her back, Imra, I promise.”

49: “Let’s have a baby.”

“Hey, Imra?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want kids?”

Imra looks at Mon-El with surprise on her face. “Do you?”

“Yeah, someday,” Mon-El replies. “I mean, not quite yet, but… Yeah, I want kids. Do you?”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” Imra replies. “But I suppose I’d like to have a child. I’d like a daughter.”

“Our own little girl,” Mon-El says. “I’d like a little girl.”

“I don’t think I’m ready quite yet, though,” Imra adds.

“No, me neither,” Mon-El agrees, although Imra’s pretty sure he’d be thrilled if she announced she was pregnant tomorrow. “But, you know, someday. We should have a baby.”

55: “Shut up and kiss me already.”

“Are you sure about this?” Mon-El asked.

“I’m sure,” Imra replied.

“You’re completely sure?”

“That’s what I said.”

“And you don’t feel pressured into this or anything?”

“Mon-El, please.”

“Look, I just want to make sure-”

“Mon-El,” Imra said, taking Mon-El by the shoulders, “I am sure about this, and I don’t feel pressured at all. This is what I want. You are what I want. Am I what you want?”

Mon-El swallowed, then he nodded.

“Then do you know what I think you should do?” Imra asked.

“What?”

Imra grinned. “Shut up and kiss me already.”

Mon-El stays by her side the whole time. He shouldn’t - there are so many things the Legion should be doing, and while the other Legionnaires can take care of themselves, they’d do better with their leader - but it does make Imra feel a little better.

Nothing can make her feel that much better, though, because her baby sister is dead.

It’s a fact. She should be starting to get used to it by now. Imra Ardeen is a superhero, she’s married to Mon-El of Daxam, her sister Preya is dead. But it’s not a fact that she can acclimate herself to. Every time she’s reminded of it, it hurts like she’s watching Preya die all over again.

Mon-El stays by her side. When she curls up on her bed and stares off into nothing, Mon-El sits next to her and runs his fingers through her hair. When she flees the dining room in the middle of funeral arrangements, Mon-El follows her to the bathroom and holds her as she cries. When people offer their condolences in a church that Preya never liked visiting in life (it was too boring, and her eyes always glazed over ten minutes into the service), Mon-El stands next to her, his hand on the small of her back, and thanks them when the words catch in her throat.

“We need to stop the Blight,” Imra says when the funeral is over. Her voice is hoarse from holding back tears for hours. “I’m not letting anyone else lose their sister like this.”

“We’ll stop it,” Mon-El promises.

Imra nods, and she feels vengeance burning in her chest.

There was a thin trail of blood trickling down Imra’s face, starting at her hairline and reaching all the way down to her chin. Her hair was a mess, there was a rip on the arm of her costume, and she was covered in dirt and ash and alien guts.

Mon-El had never seen anything so beautiful before in his life.

“Imra,” he gasped, running forward and pulling her into a tight hug. She gasped a little, and Mon-El was sure that his costume would be filthy when he pulled away, but he didn’t care. “Imra, oh my god-”

“Mon-El-”

“I thought you were dead.”

Imra went still, then wrapped her arms around Mon-El slowly. “You what?”

“I thought you were dead,” Mon-El repeated, his face buried in Imra’s hair. “You were on the ship when it blew, and Brainy couldn’t pick up a signal from your ring, and I thought-”

“Hush, Mon-El,” Imra said gently, cupping Mon-El’s head with one hand as he tried not to cry. “Hush, I’m alright.”

“I love you.”

It was the first time Mon-El had said the words to Imra.

“I love you too,” Imra said.

37: “Dance with me!”

This takes place after this piece, but you don’t really need to read it to understand what’s happening here.

The wedding was beautiful. Mr. Brande had paid for everything they could want, everyone was dressed in gorgeous clothes, and the venue itself was an enormous, beautiful church. The reception was just as grand, and as Mon-El looked out across the dance floor, he could see that everyone else seemed to be having fun. Ayla and Vi were dancing, and Reep and Tinya were giggling as they did the same. Luornu had split herself into three and all of her bodies were dancing, one with Garth, one with Rokk, and one with a cheery Mr. Brande. Lyle had even somehow managed to drag Brainy onto the dance floor, although Brainy looked liable to leave any moment.

The only people not on the dance floor, it seemed, were the bride and groom.