#less angst

Soap steps inside, and you shut the door, feeling his arms wrap firmly around you. He squeezes you tight. He's not using all of his strength to hold you. He doesn't want to hurt you, but it's firm enough that you begin to feel grounded. He'd trapped your arms to your sides, which you didn't love, but your hands were free, so you flapped them slightly behind his back.

Soap smells surprisingly good. Maybe he had just showered, but whatever aftershave he was using smelled woody and warm without being too overwhelming. You press your forehead into his shoulder, shaking your head back and forth against the fabric.

"How we doin'? Feeling better?" Soap asks quietly after a while, squeezing you a little tighter to get your attention. You nod, feeling that familiar feeling of becoming nonverbal. It was like your mouth was full of cotton or that it had been covered by a large hand. You could speak, but it felt exhausting to, like you were pulling your words out of the mud. "I've got my sunnies. Want to borrow them to wear back to your room?" He offers, and you pull away from his shoulder.

"Mmhmm." Soap slips them from his pocket and hands them too you, waiting until you let out another hum to confirm you have them on.

"I'll bring you some lunch later, okay? You gotta eat at some point." He promises as he opens the supply closet door and steps out. "Hallways clear." He announces when he notices you waiting at the doorway of the small room.

You wanted to tell Soap you had safe foods in your room, not loving the idea of someone else picking out your food, but you nodded again and gave him a thumbs up. Soap looks like he wanted to say something else, but he didn't giving you a warm smile and heading towards the gym.

Negative thoughts were still ruminating in your head, feeling ashamed and guilty that you had yelled at your team, but still angry at the way they treated you. Inside your room was safe, it was familar, and you open up your closet to begin making a small nest corner.

I can't believe I never thought of this before. You thought as you grab a spare pillow and blanket for the corner and one of the few stuffed animals you had brought with you. You always hid them, a habit from childhood because your comfort items were either taken or destroyed, but at night you would pick one to sleep with.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and you groan, wishing that you'd eaten something sooner. If you didn't eat now you were going to be sick all day. You open the small box of food you stashed under your bed, right next to your plushies, and carried them to your closet.

Reeses, mixed nuts, granola bars, and sour patch kids were stocked top of the container. While it wasn't the healthiest meal, it was food you knew you could stomach. You settle into the pillow, when there's a knock at your barrack door.

For fucks sake!

You open the sour patch kids, jamming a few into your mouth before crawling out of your closet space and opening your door. Gaz stood there, looking a little sheepish with his hand raised to knock again.

"Hey. Hey, I'm real sorry about earlier." Gaz says quietly, and you suck the sour coating off the sour patch kids to keep you calm. "I just got really defensive. My brother has had a lot of struggles, and I thought you were takin' the piss outta what he's went through. I shouldn't have yelled at you, and I shouldn't have called you a liar."

Your heart hammers in your chest, and you swear that you must be imagining things. He was apologizing? After you yelled at him like that? Gaz looks at you and gives you a gentle look of concern. "You okay, Y/N?" He asks, realizing that you are wearing Soap's sunglasses.

You nod slowly, swallowing your mouthful of candy and fiddling with one of your belt loops. "You run out of words? That's what we call it when my brother feels nonverbal." Your head perks a little at the way he said it, smiling just a little bit.

"Mmhmm." You answer, and that's when Gaz also notices the subtle way you sway back and forth. Had he just never noticed that before? The subtle physical stim was easier to pick up on now, but maybe he hadn't paid as much attention to his team as he thought.

"I'll let you go back to resting then. But I am really sorry. Next time we buy lunch, I'll buy for you." He offers, making you smile a little bit again. "Also, please don't give Soap back those glasses. They look better on you than on him." He quips, heading down the hall to whatever task he had that day.

You knew you had paper work, but it wasn't due for another few days. Today is just to rest your brain, slipping back into the tight enclose space of your closet. Two granola bars, a pack of sour patch kids, and several Reeses later, your halfway through watching Legally Blonde when there is another knock on your door.

I need to get a door bell and a do not disturb sign. You thought to yourself until you hear Soap's familar voice.

"Hey Y/N! I got you some food. Snuck some early from the kitchen." You look down at the candy wrapper massacre in your lap and blush a little. You needed real food, so you open the closet door again, but don't crawl out.

"You can come in!" You call out, the door popping open after a moment and Soap comes in with a tray. He looks at you a little confused, coming over to where your sitting in the closet.

"You okay? Don't wanna sit in your bed?" He offers as he sets down the tray and sits down beside the open closet door. You shake your head, eyeing the cottage pie, side salad and two cookies that Soap had gotten for your lunch.

"No. Like the small space." You assure him, taking the tray and looking up at him. "Thank you." He smile and leans back a little.

"Yeah, of course. Is that why my nephew loves going in dog crates? He's always locking himself in there to relax, even without the dog in there." Soap asks curiously, watching as you dig into your salad first. You shrug a little, but nod slightly.

"Could be." You say, realizing how nice a really cushioned dog cage could be to relax in. "Now I want to try it." You mutter absently, Soap looking at you in confusion.

"You wanna sit in a dog cage?"

"You don't?"

He pauses, mauling the question over in his head. "I would try it." He finally relents after a beat. "You gonna get one?" You nodded, moving on to your cottage pie. Silence follows, but only for a few more seconds.

"Could I sit in it when you do? I wanna understand the hype." Soap asks earnestly, and you chuckle, Soap feeling proud that he made you laugh a little. He always wanted to make people feel better. You nod your head, falling back into a comfotable silence.

"Am I going to get those sunnies ba-"

"No."

They swam close enough to the surface that Damian could occasionally peek his eyes over the water. It was probably the first time he’d touched air since he woke up a changed being. It felt hot, quite hot in fact. Damian looked up to the sun, before quickly ducking back down as the harsh glare blinded his sensitive eyes.

“You’ll get used to it.” Danny had said. Damian resigned himself to idly batting away at the surface, watching the streaks and waves created by the speed of his hands pushing the water apart.

It was amusing. The peace helped to keep certain thoughts out of his mind for a little. But Damian was nothing if not decisive, and he would put the concerns that nipped at his fins to rest.

“I take back what I said. Earlier.” Damian muttered.

“Sorry, what?”

“About you being a poor excuse for a hero. All I have done is antagonize and belittle you, and yet you still choose to burden yourself with me.”

“Damian I feel like we’ve been over this.”

Damian crossed his arms. “No, that was for leading you into danger.”

“Well your forgiveness coupon extends to past grievances too this time.” Danny said, a ghost of a smirk gracing his translucent skin.

“You have shown a great heroic spirit. When I came to Amity Island, the reports of your character were confusing, and contradictory. Now that I have seen your actions with my own eyes, I can see the truth…”

“Aw, Damian…” Good grief, he was about to start getting mushy again. Damian had to stop this.

“You are just as much an obnoxious goody two shoes as my eldest brother.”

“You know? I’ll take it, backhanded compliment or no.”

Damian slapped his tailfin on Danny’s stomach. The older boy only laughed, that same obnoxiously contagious mirth that only Richard could produce. Damian lowered his head into his crossed arms, disguising any peeking grin with a pout.

Knock, knock, knock.

Bruce Wayne had made a note to visit Fentonworks sometime during their visit, but circumstances have moved that trip up his timeline. He took in the maddening contraption that was this building. There was no building code in the world that would allow this thing to stand. Above the brick and mortar, winding metal pipes lead into what appeared to be a huge radio tower complete with observation deck. Bruce could practically feel the stress those pipes had to take. It was so top heavy it was a miracle a stiff breeze hadn’t knocked the entire house down. He would definitely not want to be the poor sap who had to enforce building codes round here. Considering the Fenton’s penchant for shooting first, it would not be surprising if they had shot at them, likely yelling accusations of “collusion with the sirens!”

However, these people were his best lead, and he needed to follow it. For Damian’s sake, and for his.

The door swung open, revealing Maddeline Fenton in her signature jumpsuit, the hood pulled down and hair slightly disheveled. From the search, or out of worry for her wayward son?

It had been a good twenty-four hours since Damian had been dragged into the water by an unknown party. The moment Bruce noticed the beeping alerting that Damian’s tracker was going critical, he went into Batman mode right then and there, rushing to the scene of the crime. However, what he found instead was fourteen-year-old Daniel Fenton standing over the peer, a haunted look on his face.

Bruce had asked him if he was ok, before local authorities separated then and corralled them away from the scene, setting up tape and warning signs. Bruce verbally wrestled with them, demanding to let him see if his son was alright. However, as far as they knew, he was just a normal man, in no way equipped to dive into the depths and fist fight sea monsters.

It was at times like this that he cursed the need for secrecy.

Bruce didn’t see Daniel Fenton again. When he asked around, nobody had either.

Barred from joining the search physically, Bruce was given free access to the security footage in the area, searching in conjunction with other investigators, as per his insistence. While he recovered barely anything useful for Damian, it did show Daniel’s last appearance being around ten minutes after Bruce had found him. Daniel had slipped out of the crowd, last seen heading toward the cliff-face on the far side of town. Bruce sent off the info to the police and GiW as soon as he found out.

That lead him here. To console, but also to interrogate.

“Oh, Mr Wayne! We weren’t expecting you.”

She led Bruce into the living room, seemingly a very normal and domestic place, but a closer look revealed dozens of spare parts scattered around tables and desks and shoved to the side to make room for more unfinished inventions. The living room was adjacent to the kitchen, and Bruce could almost swear he saw glowing blue slime dripping out of it.

“Jack! We have a guest!” Maddeline called out, before inviting Bruce to sit down with some tea. “I’m terribly sorry, we weren’t expecting visitors. And I’m so sorry about your son. That close to shore, our preliminary bouy should’ve been able to detect the attack. We’re not sure what happened…” she trailed off.

All these facts Bruce knew well. He had been briefed on them in the early hours of the search, while there was still much hope to be hand.

“Actually, Dr Fenton, I was visiting to give my condolences about your own son. I know with all the talk about such a high-profile case, it’s easy for other cases to be swept under the rug, but that would be unfair for you.”

Madeline’s face warped not into sadness, or depression, but confusion. “Excuse me? Danny’s been staying at Tucker’s house at the weekend.”

Bruce opened his mouth to interrupt, but Madeline beat him to the punch. “Sorry, please give me a moment.”

She rushed over to an old landline hanging by the wall next to a pair of precariously placed prototypes for some kind of futuristic gun. Rapidly punching in what he recognized was the Foley house’s number, Madeline yanked the phone out of its receiver.

“Angela? Angela, is Danny there, I need to speak to him… What?!” Madeline’s face twisted into shock. Her left hand cradelling the landline, her right hand stroking her hair repteadly. “Danny told me he’d be staying at your house. Yes, yes. Please do so. Thank you Angela. I’ll call Pamela now.”

She hung up. Another rapidly inputted number later, and a second call went through. “Pamela, I’ve been told that Danny’s been staying with Sam. Is he there? I urgently need to speak to him.”

This time, the response was very audible. Bruce could hear a raised, ranting voice, a far cry from the sickly sweet dulcet tones ‘Brucie’ Wayne had been subjected to the night before. “Pamela I need you to listen to me. Danny told me that he’d be staying with Angela. Angela told me that Tucker told her that they’d be in your house. And now you’re saying Sam’s taken them all to a camping trip on the mountain? Yes… yes. I know.”

Just at that moment, Jack Fenton, barreled into the room, emerging from a set of stairs leading into the kitchen, a tray of chocolate fudge cookies steaming in his gloved hands.

“Brucie Wayne!” The man put down the tray of cookies and rushed over to Bruce, where Bruce’s hands were almost crushed by the vigorous handshake the man gave him.

“Listen, Brucie,” Jack Fenton’s voice lowered. “I really wanted to say we’re sorry abou-“

Before Jack could finish what he was saying, Madeline grabbed him by the collar. “We have to go, Jack! To the SAV!”

Bruce stood up. “I’m coming with you.”

That might have been a mistake. Jack Fenton grabbed his hand again with that bone crushing grip and pulled him outside. Madeline pressed a button on a remote, revealing a garage housing the scientific marvel and engineering horror of the Fentons’ hand-crafted and customised tank of a… duck boat.

The exterior was sleek white with silver lines, with reinforced tires on the bottom and a hull wide enough to float on water. The top sported a radar dish, and Bruce identified several seams all across the boat, likely where some of the numerous weapons the Fentons made were hiding.

Of course, Bruce had seen this thing in action before, and the only thing worse than Jack’s sailing was his driving.

“Come on Brucie, we can talk more on the way!”

Meanwhile, in the middle of the ocean…

“It is pitiful how much Richard adores that, that Jaws film.” Damian’s disgust is palpable in his low glare, a disgust mirrored by Danny’s own gag.

“Dude, no way. I hate that fuckin’ movie so goddamn much. Imagine making a movie where tiny puppies start mauling people to death for no reason!”

Damian nodded, sagely. “It is anti-shark propaganda in the finest, and its disavowal by its direct is incredibly telling.”

“I think the Dolphin Mafia were behind it.” Damian considered this thought. How he would love for that to be true, so he could sink his teeth into some dolphin flesh in revenge for what they did to him and to shark reputations worldwide. “Like dude! Sharks are the cuddliest fish on the planet! They don’t even fight sirens, let alone humans. Pretty sure sea urchins cause more injuries. Hell I think the siren attack numbers are about to overshoot them.”

“If the Dolphin Mafia do exist, I will make it my mission to hunt them down, and devour them all.” Damian said with fatal finality.

A beat passed. Danny blinked. “Dude, aren’t you a vegetarian?”

“… Perhaps.”

“Isn’t it like, a moral thing for you? Don’t tell me the siren instincts are messing up your brain chemistry. I literally wouldn’t know how to explain that to Bruce and I’m already fearing for my life.”

“I am of my right mind. It is just that I intend to slay them regardless, so why let their flesh go to waste?”

“You know stuff doesn’t go to waste in the ocean? Like, if you don’t eat it, there’s a million other tiny organisms waiting in line for you. That’s how the freaking ecosystem works.”

Damian considered these words. While yes, it was a relief that killing the Dolphin Mafia (if they did exist) would not necessitate their consumption to prevent wastage, it was oh so tempting to dominate them in the traditional fashion of supreme ocean animals…

“It is worth considering. I will ponder my decision at a later date.”

“I’ll pretend that isn’t utterly scary.”

Damian’s thoughts turned to another pod of dolphins… “That being said, I should like to relieve Skulker of his hunting dolphins.”

“You mean hunting… doglphins?” Danny said with another infuriating grin. Damian went to bad it away, only to get stopped by the older boy holding him back with a finger.

“Let me finish my point! If you intend to continue making inane puns, this journey will be difficult.”

Danny laughed.

“I am serious!”

Danny laughed again, provoking Damian to launch himself at the older boy’s face with a snarl. The boys tumbled and tussled through the water as they play fought…

Bruce was beginning to get nauseous.

His pleas for safer driving went largely ignored. “Sorry Bruce it’s an emergency!” Which left him to helplessly cling to his seat for dear life as Jack pulled sharp turns at top speed, and barrelled through barricades.

The SAV’s alarm sirens (how ironic) blared at full volume as Madeline’s voice blasted through a megaphone. “This is a siren emergency! Please be on the lookout for Sam Manson, Tucker Foley and our baby sweetkins Danny Fenton! HOLD ON TIGHT BABY BOY, WE’RE COMING FOR YOU!”

Scanning the streets for the teens while praying for God for safety from a civilian’s driving was not on his agenda today.

“You doing ok back there, Mr Wayne?” Madeline asked. Bruce grimly nodded.

Jack Fenton swerved through a roundabout, heading for the mountain.

M: Margaret has always been a woman who goes to sleep during the early hours of the morning and wakes soon after the sun rises. So is the life of busy lady whose skills are in demand. But this morning she could not will her body to move from the bed where you laid in your peaceful slumber. Not while she watched a kaleidoscope of colors flickering across your features from the stained glass window by your bed.

And when you finally awoke, much later than she ever would, you insisted that she join you for tea on the balcony. You watched nobles in the gardens, and chatted about your dreams, that book you'd just finished, the weird dream from the other night. And Margaret knew she'd spend every day like this, with you, if she could. So she gave all of her lazy days - all of herself, to you.

F: When F found you in the gardens, laying down on your father's favorite bench, watching the birds in the sky, they couldn't help but join you. So, the plopped down on the bench a few feet away. When you turned you head to look at them, their breath caught and they could only think of how magnificent you looked.

Eventually, you started calling out the shapes of the clouds. Taking turns, seeing whose was funnier. F never wanted to stop hearing your laughter so they came up with increasingly stupid shapes, delighting in the way your melody lights their heart aflame. The glorious, lazy day was interrupted by rain, but there would be other days. Many other days.

C: Constantine smiled as he cleaned his sword, frequently glancing over to where you were curled with a blanket and a book. But sometimes it was more than just a glance. Sometimes his eyes would linger as he took in your contented features while you read a book for the tenth time, or jotted something in a journal. Or the lovely sigh you'd let out after a sip of your favorite drink.

(National City was beautiful in the fall. Parks turned orange and yellow and red, pumpkins and cartoon turkeys and the strong scent of cinnamon could be found on every street corner. Jackets got dusted off and pulled on, scarves wound their way around people’s necks, the smell of hot chocolate seemed to permeate the air. 

And Lena looked at home in the fall. Her hair was down more often than not, gentle curls framing her face. She was wrapped in soft sweaters and warm colors, looking gentler, calmer, more at ease.

And she was, in every way, Kara’s Lois.) “It’s...I—well.” Explaining was harder than she thought. Giving meaning to what she said was harder than she expected. “You’re the one I’d spin the world the opposite direction for, you know?” “Don’t be ridiculous, Kara,” Lena scoffed, turning away from the city and meeting Kara’s eyes briefly before walking through the sliding glass doors and back into her apartment. Kara followed sullenly behind. “What good would that even do?” “Turns back time,” Kara joked softly, watching Lena pour herself a glass of wine. Once maybe, days and weeks and months ago, she would have offered Kara a glass as well. Now she just set the bottle aside and sipped slowly, as if daring Kara to comment. “Why would you want to turn back time for me? And what does this have to do with Lois?” She seemed genuinely confused, and Kara realized she needed to be more direct. 

(In and of itself, it was a scary thought. She didn’t want to confess her feelings and be rebuffed. She didn’t want to tell the truth and leave herself open to...what, pain? A lack of reciprocation? Laughter at her expense?

And yet, and yet...Lena was her Lois, and she was worth it all the same.)

“What I’m trying to say,” Kara tried again, biting on her lip as she attempted to find the right words, beginning to think there were only three, not quite sure how to gather the courage to say them. “Remember Mon-El?” she said, switching tactics.

“Vaguely,” Lena responded, amused. She walked over to her kitchen, pulled out a kettle, a mug, and a packet of hot chocolate mix (an item she only kept at her place because she knew about Kara’s preference for it over tea). “What about him?” she asked as she put the water to boil, raising her eyebrow and looking at Kara expectantly. 

“When I sent him away, chose to save everyone over keeping him, Clark told me he could never do that,” Kara explained, that moment etched into her memory, inescapable and dare she say profound in the absence of feeling. “He said if it came down to keeping Lois or the world...well, he wouldn’t know what to do.”

Lena looked down, focusing on pouring the boiling water into the mug and adding the hot cocoa mix, stirring it in slowly. “Oh,” she whispered finally, pushing the mug towards Kara, “that’s what you mean about my being your Lois.”

“Lena, I—”

“—to be honest, though,” Lena interrupted, frowning, “I don’t think you have a Lois.” 

(Well, if anything could make those three words Kara wanted to say shrink back into their shell, it was that.

And for it to be said so casually, so abruptly, so utterly convincingly, as though there wasn’t any doubt in Lena’s mind. Well. That more than hurt, that felt vaguely offensive.)

“That’s so—”

“—you’re too,” Lena waved her hands, struggling with finding a word, “honorable,” she finally settled on. “You believe in duty, in sacrifice, in putting everyone before you.” She smiled, looking inexplicably proud, and picked up her wine glass, taking a small sip. “You’re too selfless. If it came down to it, Kara, you’d break your own heart a thousand times over for the world.” 

Kara blinked, wondering how Lena misinterpreted her. “No, Lena, I’m saying—”

“—no, I know,” Lena interrupted, setting her wine aside and walking over to stand in front of Kara, so close that Kara could practically smell the alcohol on Lena’s breath. Rather than meet Lena’s eyes, Kara kept her gaze on the ceiling. “And I love you, too. But we’re not Clark and Lois.” 

(And oh, Lena got it. She got it and she was braver than Kara, laying the words out there, giving the feelings between them a name, finally, finally, calling it what it was.

Love. She loved Lena.)

“I don’t pull off the suit as well as he does, I know,” Kara joked sadly, eyes still on the ceiling, knowing where Lena was going with this. 

(It was too soon. It was too much. It was too hard.)

“Kara,” Lena admonished, forcing Kara to meet her gaze. Kara’s vision was a little blurred, so she wasn’t quite sure if those were tears in Lena’s eyes or if her allergies were just working up again. “We can’t,” Lena told her, voice trembling. 

“Right. No. Of course.”

“Kara, after everything, being friends is hard enough, do you really—”

“—I said I got it,” Kara interrupted, blinking, horrified when her vision cleared and she felt something wet roll down her cheeks. She was crying. Crying. How utterly embarrassing. 

(She looked away again, unwilling to see pity in Lena’s expression, unwilling to confirm for herself that what was welling up in Lena’s eyes was indeed allergies. 

She looked away again, because she was willing to break her heart a thousand times over for the world, but she didn’t know how to cope with her breaking heart now.)

“I’m just.” She stopped, heaved a breath, and nodded curtly. “Just friends sounds good. But I’m going to go now.” She stepped back from Lena, practically power-walked towards the balcony door, stopping only when she felt something tug on her cape.

“Kara,” Lena began, but Kara didn’t turn. Couldn’t turn. Whatever courage Lena had been on when she’d managed to say the words Kara couldn’t seemed to fade, however, and she released her grip on Kara’s cape and pulled back. “You pull the suit off way better than him, don’t sell yourself short.” 

(It wasn’t what Lena wanted to say, Kara didn’t need the uptick of Lena’s heartbeat or the soft, regretful sigh she released a moment after the words escaped her lips. 

It wasn’t what Lena wanted to say, but it was what she did say, and Kara managed nothing more than a strangled laugh in response, taking off into the night and leaving Lena and a mug of hot chocolate untouched behind her.)

xxx

The next time she saw Lena was at game night.

(This was not for a lack of trying on Lena’s part. She’d invited Kara to lunch, to coffee, to a variety of science-related events—even Lena’s TED Talk—but Kara had declined them all, citing work or Supergirl-catastrophes.

Finally, Lena had sent a text reading just hmph, and Kara had spent the rest of the afternoon asking Nia if it was a good or bad hmph.) 

Game night, however, Kara couldn’t avoid. Namely, because it was at her own apartment. She had managed to avoid directly inviting Lena, resorting instead to a group chat message, something that had Nia shaking her head and muttering “children.” 

(And rationally, Kara knew better. She knew that she was supposed to be a better friend, that they were working on repairing their tattered and bruised friendship, that they needed to reestablish all those lines of communication and trust that had been burned to the ground. 

She knew, but she struggled. She struggled with the thought of looking at Lena and not thinking about how much she loved her, not thinking that Lena felt the same way, not thinking that had she been better—a better friend, a more honest friend, a kinder friend—then there would have been nothing in the way of her reaching out to take Lena by the hand, tug her forward, chase her lip, and—

Well. All those were things she was determinedly not trying to think of.) 

She was a bit of a mess by the time Lena arrived, looking as beautiful and breathtaking as ever, a bag of takeout in her hand, an unsure smile on her lips. 

“Are you sure?” Lena whispered, not entering Kara’s apartment. “If this is too much—”

“—I want you here,” Kara cut in, not really embarrassed by how desperate she sounded. Because now that she was looking at Lena, she forgot why she had wanted to maintain distance in the first place. Self-preservation no longer seemed very important to her. “I always want you with me.” 

“As a friend,” Lena added, cheeks flushed, suddenly very interested in her shoes, her heart pounding away, teeth digging into her bottom lip. 

Kara wasn’t sure what it all meant. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. So instead, she responded with the honesty she should’ve afforded Lena sooner—the honesty her best friend was owed. “In any capacity you’ll have me,” she said.

Lena didn’t respond, but as she walked by to enter Kara’s apartment, the fingers of her free hand ran over the inside of Kara’s hand, barely brushing over Kara’s palm, really, and it was like an electric shock, leaving Kara paralyzed to the spot until Alex took pity on her and unrooted her—physically dragging her over to the food and games.

(And the entire night, as Kara flexed the hand Lena touched repeatedly, she noticed that every time she looked over at Lena, Lena was already looking at her.

And the entire night, as Nia muttered “children” under her breath, Kara began to hope.)

xxx

As the weeks dragged on and Lena showed no signs of wanting anything to evolve between them, much of that hope evaporated. She was only holding onto the last tendrils when she had to show up at L-Corp (again) to stop some madman’s mad henchmen from trying to kill Lena (again). 

When the men were appropriately stopped and detained, Kara found herself on the balcony with Lena (again), staring out at the city (this too, again). Lena wasn’t drinking anything, and she wasn’t dressed in her soft sweaters. Instead, she was wearing a navy suit, hair pulled tightly back, hands in her pockets as she leaned against the balustrade, eyes on Kara. 

“You took awhile to get here,” Lena finally said, and Kara turned to her, a little offended.

“There was a fire, Lena. I had to make sure it was out before—”

“—but I thought I was your Lois?” she interrupted, with more than a little snark. Kara straightened, standing at her full height as she approached Lena.

“First of all, low blow. Secondly, you said it yourself, I don’t have a Lois. Maybe you need to find a less honorable friend,” Kara told her, eyes narrowed. 

Lena didn’t look sorry. If anything, she seemed...content. “I’ve been thinking about it, you know?” She tugged her hands out of her pockets, and Kara thought her heart slammed to a halt when Lena reached out and placed her hands on Kara’s shoulders, drawing her in. “I think the truth is,” she continued, hands sliding across Kara’s shoulders, interlocking behind Kara’s neck, “you’re my Lois. Because there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you, even give up a chance at something more, something I really want, because I was scared it wouldn’t work and I’d lose you completely.” 

“Something you really want, huh?” Kara said, her heart jumpstarting at the feeling of Lena’s fingers against her neck, at the way Lena’s thumbs rubbed gently against the base of her skull, at the way Lena leaned up, pressing their foreheads together. “Are you still scared?”

“Terrified,” Lena breathed. “But I figure I could be a little more like you, potential heartbreak and all.”

Kara tried to nod, managing nothing more than gently head-butting Lena and making her laugh. “We probably need to figure out a better way to describe how we feel about each other, I think my cousin and Lois may get concerned—”

“—Kara?” Lena interrupted, pulling away just a bit.

“Yeah?”

“We can definitely talk about this if you want. Or you could just kiss me. Whichever you prefer.” 

(In the end, it was an easy choice.

For both you, the doctor, and pretty much everyone on board, the last two weeks were crazy. Halfway through the first week, the ship was intercepted by Romulans, forcing you to put on a constant yellow alert.

As the tension rose between the Romulan captain and yourself, all talks came crashing down when the Romulans attacked first. Oh no, you didn’t have the time to think over your heartbreak. The crew didn’t need Y/N the lover at the moment, they needed Captain Y/N. Switching immediately to red alert, you pushed away your emotions and your tears, for the safety of the crew.

That was how the rest of the weeks were like. It was only near the end of the two weeks when the Romulans left in a fury, when you finally relaxed the red alert and the klaxons finally stopped blaring for once.

Thankfully, there wasn't much damage to the ship itself. A couple of scratches and dents here and there, but nothing you couldn’t fix at the next Federation outpost. You’d briefed Command immediately, going over detailed events that’d transpired like a dutiful Captain would.

It was only then that you had the chance to relax again, and figure out how to salvage what’s left of your friendship with Leonard. You spent a night with Nyota and Christine, crying your eyes out and telling the entire story from top to finish. Both sympathized with you, while the latter promising to make the doctor’s life a lot harder for breaking your heart.

While you appreciated the efforts, you told her not to, stating that you were still interested in keeping a friendship with Leonard.

“It’s going to take time, Y/N,” Nyota mentioned, finishing her glass of alcohol.

“We’ve been avoiding each other as much as possible,” You mumbled into your empty glass.

“We know,” Your two best friends replied in unison.

“And of course the Romulans didn’t quite help it either.”

The two promised that they would be with you, no matter what. You thanked them profusely for their support. However, even Jim had tried needling the story out of you the day after you and Leonard returned back from the gala.

You shook him off a few times, saying that everything was okay and you and Leonard needed some time away from the other. Jim has called bullshit, and said that something must have happened in order for his two best friends to not even look at each other.

It took a few days after the Romulans’ attacks, a lot of convincing and bribery, and five glasses of tequila for you to spill the beans again.

“At the end, he told me that he enjoyed spending the last couple hours of in his arms. For a moment, he could indulge in his dream of having me, of I think possibly dating me, and just enjoying the time with me,” You hiccuped, knowing that you were way beyond buzzed at this point.

“He told you all of this and then apologized and then left?” Jim sat in the booth across from you, deciding that you had enough alcohol for the night.

“There’s not much I could have said. He told me that he was too old for him, that he has Joanna, and that nobody would want, and I quote, a bitter soul like me,” You continued as though you didn’t hear a single word that Jim said. “It’s all excuses, I know that.”

“But it still hurts,” Jim finished your sentence for you, pushing the glass of water into your hands.

You nodded, shakily gulping your water down. “I don’t know what to do, Jim. It’s going to be weird to be friends again with him. I’ve crossed that line of friendship, and I’m not sure if we’ll be able to be friends again.”

“Do you want to?” Jim held your watery gaze.

“Want to what?” You frowned, observing how his baby blue eyes softened throughout the night.

“Want Bones to just be your friend or would you rather have something more?” he emphasized.

“I-Jim-I well, he already said no,” You shook your head. “If I had it my way, yes, I want to date him. I don’t care that he’s seven years my senior, that he has a daughter who’s already turning thirteen this year, that he’s divorced, or that he’s even a damn talented doctor. Everything makes him who he is today.”

You cleared your throat. “And I might sound selfish but he’s the person that never fails to make me happy when I’m around him.”

Jim nodded sagely a few times. “I understand. It’ll all turn out the way it should.”

You thanked him for his support during the hard times, appreciating that he still had a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen to. However, Jim had other plans. There was no way in hell would he let his two closest friends split. If there anything Jim could do, was to get to the bottom of things, and figure out a plan.

Listening to your story, all he had to do was to speak with Bones.

“Bones! There you are,” Jim strode into the CMO’s office without a knock.

“What do you want, Jim? I’m a little busy at the moment,” Leonard scowled up at his best friend.

“I brought some of the good stuff with me. Want to share?” Jim continued, as though the doctor’s unamusement didn’t do anything to affect his mood. He held up a bottle of bourbon.

“Since you’re already here,” Leonard pulled away from his desk, and opened his lowest level drawer for some glasses.

Popping the bottle open, Jim generously poured each cup with a healthy slug of the cool amber liquid.

“The Romulans sure weren’t happy with us,” Jim snorted after a moment of enjoying the alcohol.

“They did send a number of injured crew down,” The doctor spoke.

“It was to be expected,” The blonde continued, pouring himself another glass when he was done.

“Jim,” The doctor hesitated. “I’m turned in my resignation letter to the Captain. I think I’m done here.”

His best friend choked on his alcohol, completely taken back by the words. “You want to do what?” He sputtered out, feeling the burn go down the wrong pipe.

“After what happened with Y/N two weeks ago, I just can’t do this anymore, Jim,” Leonard continued, sparing a glance at the other.

“And what exactly happened? Y/N was all excited having you go down to the Gala together like an actual date,” Kirk asked.

“Nothing. We had fun. We danced together.” He paused, weighing his words. “I got to have her in my arms just for those short couple hours. Then she confessed saying that she liked me, and I just couldn’t.”

“Bones.”

“Jim, I know what you’re going to say, so don’t even start,” Leonard poured himself another generous amount.

“Bones, you don’t even know what I was going to say,” Jim frowned. “But what’s stopping you? You clearly like the girl back, and hell, I’ve seen the two of you together. She comes into the room, and you brighten up. You can’t deny those feelings, Bones.”

“Yes I can!” The doctor abruptly stood up, surprising the blonde once more. “You know this, Jim. My divorce with Joce is the reason why I’m out here in the middle of nowhere with you. I can’t do this whole dating thing again, not after what Jocelyn has done. I’m nothing but a bitter broken soul, Jim. I can’t let that happen again.”

“Do you truly believe that will happen with Y/N?” Jim pressed.

There was silence from the other end of the room.

“You know as well as I do that Y/N is a forever kind of person,” The blonde continued. “Not the one night kind.”

“Jim, I-.”

“Bones, what’s really stopping you from dating Y/N? All the reasons you’ve given me up to this point are just bullshit excuses. You know better.”

The doctor stopped his pacing, and plopped back down on his couch, placing his head in his hands.

“You know what I’m afraid of,” The brunette finally spoke up after a long period of silence.

“I don’t,” Jim answered, earning himself a glare.

“I’m afraid of messing it all up, of disappointing myself and Y/N just because of the prospect of a better what if, of not getting it right, of forgetting dates, of breaking promises, of it ending up in divorce again like what Joce did,” Leonard spoke, a voice barely above a whisper. “I wouldn’t know what to do if it all happens again. It’s just all going to be lovey dovey again. When the bad time starts, I work, Y/N works, and we don’t spend time together. We fight, and then end up breaking up.”

All reasonable and just statements, Jim agreed. Yet, he never knew his best friend to be a quitter, not after all he’d endured.

“So you’re just going to live with your decision now, understanding full well that you’ll end up regretting not trying, not giving you and Y/N a chance that you deserve. Y/N could be the one that you’d never thought you wanted,” The blonde said. “Bones, are you really going to let an opportunity like that just pass by?”

The doctor said nothing, so Jim continued. “I see how you look at her when others check Y/N out. I know what you’re going through when someone else tries to get a date with Y/N. I know that you’re in love, Bones, but love is always risky. You are vulnerable to them, and they are vulnerable to you, because it’s based on trust.”

“The question is are you giving up on yourself when there is a second chance of love just staring right in front of you?”

Leonard groaned, placing his empty glass aside. “What am I supposed to do, Jim? I’ve messed it all up. Y/N must hate me now.”

“Y/N doesn’t hate you. There’s not an ounce of hate there,” Jim smiled inwardly, congratulating himself. “Go, Y/N is probably still down at the bar at this hour, been a regular nowadays.”

Another pause before the doctor stood up. “Alright, I’ll go have a talk.” He stopped at the door. “And don't touch anything.”

“You can thank me by naming your firstborn after me!” Jim called out before the doors shut.

Job well done.

Quickly downing the last of his glass, he placed both glasses in the sink, and swiftly followed after his best friend.

Leonard hurried down to the bar, desperately hoping that you were still there. It was approaching midnight, and he wasn’t sure if you were still awake. Scanning the bar, he noticed Nyota and Chris huddled together.

He strode over, and within minutes, he’d gained the attention of both ladies, who raised their eyebrows at him. You sat opposite from them, your back to Leonard, so you didn’t immediately notice his presence.

“Y/N, Nyota, Chris,” He greeted quietly.

You turned around, a little surprised to see the good doctor there.

Oh, Leonard,” You responded, as the other two merely nodded to his greeting. Leonard had noticed the slight tremble of your lower lip.

“Y/N, I was wondering if we could have a talk,” He looked around. “Maybe at a more private place.”

You glanced back at the two others in response. Nyota gave you a shrug, while Chris shook her head no. Well. You didn’t have much else to lose, so you agreed.

“Um, how about the officer’s lounge? No one’s there at this hour,” You suggested, getting to your feet. Chris merely looked at you as though you’d gone crazy, but you shrugged in return.

“I’ll pick the tab up tonight, Y/N,” Nyota called.

“Thanks!”

You tossed and turned over what Leonard could possibly want to speak with you about. Did he want to be friends? Did he not want to be friends? Did he want to resign? No, he would’ve told you that in front of Nyota and Chris, so it couldn’t be that. Thankfully the lounge wasn’t far.

“A drink, Leonard?” You offered when you and Leonard arrived.

“No thank you. I’ve had my share of liquid courage already,” He answered.

“Oookay,” You turned back to filling up two glasses of water for you and him. “So what do you want to talk about?”

Leonard turning down alcohol hardly ever happened. Whatever it was that he needed to speak his mind, must be important for him.

“Y/N, I”ve realized that I made a fool out of myself, that I didn’t know what I was seeing right in my face,” He started, watching you still at the topic on hand. “I know that I’ve made a mess of things between us, but understand that it wasn’t my intention to do so.”

He paused, but seeing you had nothing to say, he plowed on.

“When I held you in my arms that night, it was my greatest joy to call you mine even if it was for just a few hours. I know you wanted more, and I did too. But I was scared, afraid that I would let you down and disappoint you, me, us. That night in front of your quarters, I wanted to kiss you right then and there, But I let my past cloud my judgement and I ran. I ran because that’s what I did after Jocelyn took everything I had dear to me, to be up here in this unforgiving void. I thought that this was it, that there was nothing left for me but space and Jim. You, however, changed my mind. You brighten up my day each time I see you, make things better than I’d ever imagined. And I know I made a mistake, that I broke your heart running off like that. I swear to you, each and every day, that I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”

You stared at him, your glass of water forgotten on the countertop.

“A-are you sure you don’t want a drink?” You stuttered out, unsure of what to say.

“Darlin’, I got my water, but no thank you.”

You strode closer to him, as you tried to gather your thoughts. There was still hurt in your eyes, something that Leonard could obviously tell, but you flickered your gaze hopefully up at him. “You promise?”

“I promise,” He echoed, eyes flickering down from your eyes to your lips.

You were quicker than he was, as you pulled him down for your first, desperate kiss with him. His lips happily crashed against yours, obliging you with the kiss that you and him both needed. Jim leaned against the entrance of the lounge, grinning at the sight of his two best friends together once more. Without a sound, he left you and Leonard be. As the night came to an end, you and Leonard parted ways to your respective quarters with the promise of more.  

Laying in bed, you stared up at the ceiling with a giddy grin across your face. It’d been a hard three weeks apart, but it was necessary. With that, you started your usual morning routine. Reaching the Bridge, you promised Nyota to clue her in at all that’d transpired before sitting down in your chair. Your PADD had been beeping at you throughout the night, but you’d thought nothing of it till now. Intrigued, you opened the screen up, only to find a resignation letter flashing at you.

“I’ll be back in ten,” You hurried down to the medbay in a panic.

“Leonard, a word?’ You huffed out, striding into his office without a warning.

“Good morning sweetheart, what brings you in so early?” Leonard looked up from his PADD, worry etched in his face.

“My PADD has been beeping all night and up till now, I didn’t check what it was,” You trailed off, hoping he’d understand what you were implying.

It took the doctor a minute to understand. “I, yes. I might have sent that letter in on an impulse last night before I got a chance to speak with you,” He looked slightly embarrassed.

“Sooo safe to say that I can delete it? I haven’t forwarded it to Command yet,” You peered up at him when he rounded the corner.

“Of course,” He framed the side of your head with his fingers, and kissed you.

“You are all I need.”

“So she took her love for to gaze awhile upon the fields of barley In his arms she fell as her hair came down among the fields of gold.”