#except do

(I am not joking: myself and a dear friend were head over heels fangirls for Garth Nix’s Keys to the Kingdom series...I bought the final book, Lord Sunday, the literal day it was released (1 Feb 2010 in Oz, ftr)...and I haven’t read a single word of it to this day. I keep restarting from the first book, and just...not wanting it to be over. Still. To add pathos to the pathetic, said friend and I are no longer in touch at all, no less.)

...I’m caught up in those same kinda feelings this morning/tonight, plus extreme excitement, curiosity that killed the entire felidae family, nevermind just the cat, plus misery that we’re going to have to wait for so long and the fandom will doubtlessly go back to sleep (fuck the neckbeards and the haters, man, I have been having the time of my life for the last month and a bit because my eternal fandom is awake and it is beautiful), plus...IDK what my feelings actually are doing at all, anymore? And I just. I want to watch the finale right now. Now now now. But not at all. But now.

Kara ignores the knock on her door.

Alex lets herself in anyway.

She meets Kara’s unhappy gaze, takes in the suit she still wears, and offers a grim smile. “Didn’t go well, then.”

“She hates me,” her sister mutters thickly. Her eyes are dry but her voice is thick from recent tears. Alex joins her on the couch, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Kara leans against her, shrugging helplessly. “She didn’t even let me explain, Alex.”

A moment later, Kara pulls away, vibrating with anxious energy. “What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t tell her! She made Kryptonite for Rao’s sake. Which, was I supposed to thank her for making the one substance on Earth designed to hurt me?”

Kara gestures sharply, then falls still, waiting for Alex to chime in. When she doesn’t, Kara’s eyes narrow.

“What?”

“You don’t agree with her, do you?” Kara accuses. Again, Alex hesitates. “Alex!”

“Maybe I’m not the right person to weigh in on this,” Alex hedges.

“You’re my sister! You’re the only one who gets to weigh in!”

Alex shrugs. “What do you want me to say Kara? Last year I had Kryptonite armor! And it worked!”

Kara scoffs, shoving to her feet to start pacing. “Unbelievable.”

“Kara…”

“You defended me in the dark forest. So, what– were you lying?”

“You’re my sister, Kara, of course I defended you. And I didn’t lie– it is personal. I just don’t know if there’s one right or wrong answer here.”

“No,” Kara argues, “there is, because Kryptonite– it kills me!”

Alex pushes to her feet. “I understand that, believe me. But just a few years ago you were training under Kryptonite radiation, sparring with me. It helped you learn how to fight. And since then, we’ve faced multiple threats who could only be stopped by Kryptonite–”

“Yeah, I remember!” Kara cuts in sharply, voice lifting in rage. “I was there! I was there when they pumped my aunt full of Kryptonite to torture information out of her. I heard her scream for hours as it burned her from the inside. I remember when you put a kryptonite blade through her heart!”

Kara’s shout rings in the silence that follows. Alex freezes– she can hardly breathe for the reminder of the heartache she caused Kara. For the loss that nearly drove them apart. She thought they’d moved past it– days of working towards a new normal and countless nights spent talking for hours, trying to heal. Maybe they did heal. But Kara will never forget.

“It’s not just a tool, anymore,” Kara continues, reduced to a whisper. “It never was. It was the DEO’s reminder that I answer to them. My reminder that they could end me if I ever stepped out of line.”

Alex shakes her head. “No, it was never–”

“And now my best friend has found a way to not only make it, but make it more deadly, and all you have to say is that maybe she has a point?”

The air suddenly feels thick around Alex, pressing close against her. Her throat locks tight, and she has to swallow several times before she can summon her voice.

“Kara, I–”

“You should go,” Kara says flatly. She folds her arms around herself, suddenly small under her cape.

“Kara.”

“Either you go, or I will.”

Alex presses her eyes shut. She nods. “Okay.”

She collects her purse and lets herself out without another word.

Kara knocks her fist against the door and freezes between a grimace and a giggle when it splinters with a crack. It opens a moment later to an angry Lena, who glares at her warily.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’ll– I’ll replace that.”

She staggers inside, belatedly spotting the gun in Lena’s hand. Oops. She turns to offer reassurance that she isn’t going to hurt anyone, but loses track of that thought when she nearly unbalances.

“Are you drunk?” Lena asks. Her brow knits with reluctant curiosity. “Your metabolism–”

“I can with Aldebaran Rum,” Kara tells her stoutly, “and guess what? The corner market carries it now. We’re coming up in the world.”

Lena’s jaw tightens. “You should leave.”

“No, you should leave.” Kara pauses. “Actually, don’t. You should sit. We need– to talk.”

“I’m not interested in talking.”

“Then don’t! You can listen, like I did when you called me fucked up.” Kara waits, but Lena doesn’t move. “I’ll yell at you standing up if you want.” Lena still doesn’t move. “Okay, fine. I’m fighting with my best friend and my sister– why would this be even a little easy?”

She paces unsteadily, wading through murky, sluggish thoughts. Her cheeks feel a little numb but this time it’s not from smiling. It just is. It’d be easy to drink just a little more, and let that numbness spread to the anguish roiling around in her guts.

But not yet.

She needs that anger.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Kara declares.

Lena only rolls her eyes. “Yes, we’ve already established that humans are unaccustomed to the pain of near-invincibility–”

“No!” Kara shouts, whirling to face her. “No, you made me sit there and take everything you said. Now it’s your turn to listen.”

Lena’s eyes widen, then narrow. But she remains silent.

Good.

“You don’t know what it’s like, to have to hide who you are. You project all of yourself into the world, for better or worse, and whether they love you or hate you, it’s you. Do you remember what you said to me? The day you met Supergirl? You said, we can’t live in fear. Well, I do! I live in fear. Every day, I’m afraid that someone will learn who I am and use it against me– that they’ll use it to target my friends, my family! I’ve been so afraid that my best friend will find out, and that I’ll lose her too.”

Lena scoffs. “You distrust me that much–”

“Oh, don’t even!– try to lecture me about distrust!”

“I have always been open with you–”

“Yeah, I remember! You were so proud to show off your fancy new alien detection device last year.” Lena freezes, and Kara feels a small trill of triumph. “Yeah, don’t think I’ve forgotten how gleefully you explained it to me, completely unconcerned that it would ruin lives. So long as you turned a profit, you were happy.”

Green eyes sour at the accusation, but she doesn’t say a word. Suddenly, Kara deflates, losing some of her righteous anger as hurt crept in around the edges.

“Did you?” she asks, plaintively. “Did you really think I’d forget that my best friend created a device that would allow businesses to deny me service? To kick me out of my apartment and leave me homeless?”

This time, Lena has the decency to look away, cheeks reddening under the criticism. Instead of fueling her fury, Kara blinks away tears.

“What would you have done? If I hadn’t damaged it? If it confirmed I was an alien?” Kara’s throat closes painfully. “Would you have turned me out right then and there? Would you have requested a different reporter the next time CatCo asked for an interview?”

She blinks, and the wavy figure of her best friend sharpens as her tears fall free. Maybe she imagines it, but she swears Lena’s eyes are shining too.

“Would you have ended the best friendship I’ve ever had, before it even started?”

Lena inhales sharply. “Maybe, I could swallow the secret identity easier,” she grates out, “if it didn’t mean that my best friend treated me like a villain for daring to create the one tool that was able to stop a Worldkiller.”

But Kara shakes her head no. “You didn’t make the Kryptonite for Reign, Lena. We both know it.”

For a long moment, the truth hangs heavy between them. Quiet lingers, before Lena finally takes a shaking breath.

“The threat is there, Kara,” she says. “Whether you want to admit it or not. Less than a year ago, Superman was ready to kill, even if it meant leveling the city to do it. And you– you threw Cat Grant off a balcony. Maybe you weren’t in control, but you still did it. Are we just supposed to sit back and pray you’ll take mercy on us the next time it happens?”

Kara stares at her. Then she laughs. It starts slow, bubbling in her throat before spilling out of her. Soon she’s doubled over, guffawing so hard her sides start to ache. Lena looks truly unsettled, and only that serves to curb her mirth.

“Sorry,” Kara wheezes, still grinning as she wipes her eyes. She flops onto Lena’s couch, breathless. “Whew!”

Lena swallows. “Good to know you find that part of my concerns hilarious.”

“Oh, pfft. Don’t be stupid. What’s funny is that both those examples you mentioned? The two times Supers have been a danger to humanity in the decades since my cousin started protecting the planet?”

She pauses, meeting Lena’s gaze as a fresh giggle tickles her throat.

“Was because of kryptonite! Because Maxwell Lord tried making Kryptonite, screwed up, and turned me into a monster, and because Queen Bitch Rhea waved some silver Kryptonite to turn my cousin into her personal attack dog. And your solution is to add more Kryptonite to the mix. That’s what’s funny.”

Instead of looking cowed, Lena’s jaw tightens. “And why did Max need to make Kryptonite in the first place?”

Kara sobers in an instant. The face of her aunt flashes across her vision, green-veined and twisted in agony. Then Reign’s face, chased by the phantom image of the dark priestess.

“Are you and Superman the only Kryptonians left?” Lena asks.

Lena knows they’re not. She knows about Argo, has given them the means to survive.

“Are you and Superman even the only Kryptonians on Earth?”

A lump forms in Kara’s throat. “No.”

“And can you guarantee that none of the other Kryptonians on Earth or elsewhere will never try to harm humanity?”

She doesn’t think they will. Those on Earth have spent decades hiding, even when Clark became Superman and their refuge planet fell under attack by alien threats. But she can’t guarantee it. She can’t.

“No.”

“Then I have a responsibility to ensure humanity has the means to defend themselves if the need arises,” Lena tells her. Her voice is calm, devoid of the emotion that gave Kara hope they could salvage even a small fragment of their friendship. “If you can’t understand that, then… I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”

Kara stares at her. Her heart throbs in her chest, like the space around it suddenly turned hollow. Words– the very thing she’s supposed to be good at– fail her, leaving her throat painfully dry.

Finally, she slowly pushes to her feet, struggling not to stagger as she pulls her puse onto her shoulder. She licks suddenly dry lips, grits her teeth, and meets Lena’s gaze.

“Fine,” she says stiffly. “Nice knowing you.”