Actions

Work Header

in my head (i do everything right)

Work Text:

ours are the moments i play in the dark; we were wild and fluorescent, come home to my heart

- supercut, lorde

 

 

For a time, things are fine.

Lena doesn’t really know what to call it. A fluke feels fleeting. Temporary. Very much unlike the long stretches of time where things work out and don’t fall sideways like they almost always had.

Because National City falls in love with Kara, and with that comes the kind of ease that Lena’s never really had before. Like suddenly the universe knows that she’s Supergirl’s—Kara’s—best friend, and that warrants making her life incredibly easier after everything it has put and pushed her through.

It certainly works in her favor; moves her foundation forward into leaps and bounds. She reclaims Luthor Corp—and rebrands it as L-Corp for what genuinely feels like the umpteenth time—with far less paperwork and no red tape to cut through.

On weekends she gets to take Esme out on unbothered small trips. To the park, the zoo, the Kennedy Space Center that one time Esme got so obsessed with astronauts and space shuttles (that Lena couldn’t be anymore thrilled about) and she just had to. Her fairy godmother as Kara had once jokingly thrown at her while licking ice cream off of her cone and Lena had to will her heart not to race.

Her nights she spends vacillating between game nights in Alex and Kelly’s new house, or on the comfort of Kara’s couch—mostly on Kara’s couch. She sits right next to her as whichever show that has tickled Kara’s fancy plays on the tv, basking in the warmth, and the growing joy and sense of contentment that emanate from her best friend as Kara finds more and more of herself, discovering who she really is.

Lena grieves. Lena loves. And then grieves some more. Loves ten times harder back just because.

So for a while, Lena’s content. Even though there’s a part of her that thinks she’s settling. A thought she quickly perishes out of fear of disrupting the calm with which Lena lives her life now.

(Especially when Kara smiles at her, luminous, and radiant, and like Lena is the sun she does get to hold. And Lena feels her chest crack open in turn, her heart slipping through the spaces in between her ribcage, the words clawing at her throat begging to be let out.

Especially then, when Lena feels that she can risk it all so strongly. Feels it in every vein and every bone. A lifetime of uncertainty and an eternity she might spend without Kara by her side for those three words and the taste of wine on Kara’s mouth.)

Because Kara had said they’re friends. Lena—stupidly —echoed the same sentiment despite every single cell in her body screaming that they’re more than that. That what they have is far more deeper, the kind that fills endless pages of novels and lives in poetic minds; leaves prolific mouths.

But everything was changing around Kara and Lena didn’t want to add to that burden. She didn’t want to turn Kara’s life around any more than it already had. So she’d just pulled Kara into her arms, the safest place she could offer, and told her everything will be okay. Told her to breathe while reminding herself to do the same.

Until things have fallen to how they are now, and now Lena’s beyond petrified to shake the peace. Things are finally still and stable, and they’ve established a routine that Lena hasn’t had in a while. Lena doesn’t really have the heart to ruin it as brave as she’d like to think she is.

(But in her head—in her head, she does things right. She tells Kara that she’s the magic flowing in her veins. Tells Kara that the world and everything else may be bleak but she’s the one thing Lena’s sure of. Her absolute. That there’s no line she wouldn’t cross for her, and no universe she wouldn’t love Kara the way she does.

It doesn’t even matter anymore that sometimes she thinks Kara thinks and feels the same. Because Kara’s a writer—an award-winning wordsmith that wields language like her very own armor. 

And the fact that Kara doesn’t say anything past friendship is perhaps an answer in and of itself.)



She coasts.

Between L-Corp, her new foundation that ties up real well with Andrea’s philanthropic initiatives in Argentina, and her new-found abilities and godmother duties, Lena is kept occupied. 

Her days become splices of things that need her attention and have to see through, then digging into her mother’s spell book whenever she has the chance, and spending time with Kara. Though that she ensures to make time for, even if it means she has to ask Jess to shuffle things around and reschedule a meeting or two. 

Jess, who she bumped into on her way up to her tower one day much to Lena’s absolute relief and delight, and now rarely bats an eye on anything that involves Lena’s best friend.

Lena follows the flow, dances with the waves, bends wherever the wind takes her. It works for a while; maybe a little too well and a little too good of a while that it finds its own rhythm. Lives in the spaces that surround Kara and her like some kind of protective bubble Lena can’t find the will to burst.

Because Kara’s okay, and she’s smiling again as if she’s got her spark back. Her sense of purpose. And Lena—Lena is learning to live with that. To the knowledge that she wouldn’t change it for the world if it means Kara finally gets her peace.

For Kara, she’ll do absolutely anything.



The waves of life take her down south for three weeks, after Andrea calls with a proposal that Lena absolutely can’t refuse.

Her friend has managed to find some genuine, good-hearted benefactors to support the hospital Andrea has been dreaming of building ever since they met at boarding school. She didn’t even really have to tell her that it’s intended to cater more to aliens than humans because Lena will say yes anyway. But Andrea did, though all it ever does is fly Lena to Buenos Aires the very next day.

The night before she spends with Kara, trying—and somehow failing—to wipe the pout off of her face. She’s tried ice cream, potstickers, and Disney, a combination that almost always works but for reasons unbeknownst to her doesn’t.

If anything, Kara’s huffy. She doesn’t make a grab for the box of Red Dragon’s that Lena brings in from the front door, and only lets her pint of Cookie Dough gather dew on the coffee table, wholly untouched.

Instead she scoots on the couch the moment Lena plops back down, burrowing to her side for warmth under the comfy—and very, very expensive—blanket she then covers their legs with. 

Lena thinks nothing of it since they’ve been like this since the wedding, as if the very last vestiges of the past year have finally been stripped, laying them raw and bare for the other to see. No more secrets, no more twisted family legacies. No more Lex.

(But there are phantoms. Lena doesn’t really think they’ll ever go away, but that is Kara’s fight and the best she can do is be there for her whenever Kara needs her.)

Her best friend ignoring food is admittedly new though. Maybe even a little bit concerning when Lena lifts the box of potstickers, gesturing for her to take one, and Kara merely shakes her head.

It pulls a pout from Lena’s lips. Though before she can open her mouth to ask if Kara’s not feeling well, the other woman beats her to speaking. “Do you want me to fly you tomorrow? Reduce your carbon footprint?”

It’s casual, the way Kara asks; pairs it with a small smile that cushions the quip with. But her eyes tell a completely different story. Blue that pleads, imploring for something that Lena has no idea what exactly.

It makes her frown, quite unsure how to react. Though it’s light enough that Kara doesn’t really make anything of it. But she doesn’t say anything else either, and the ensuing silence compels Lena to break it.

“Did you forget that my jet is already doing that?”

Kara shrugs. “I’m faster.”

“While that is an incredibly good point,” Lena begins to say. “I can’t ask you to drop everything else just because I needed a ride. Cat won’t be too happy with me, especially with your deadlines coming up tomorrow.”

She watches her best friend sigh out a yeah, I guess, Kara’s chest deflating in resignation; waits expectantly for whatever comes next, though she tries not to be disappointed that nothing else is forthcoming. Not even an afterthought. Kara only scoots lower and rests her head on Lena’s chest.

And Lena, Lena just lets her; files the odd moment to the very back of her mind but ultimately lets it go.

(The water is still calm around them. Yet inside, Lena feels the brewing of a storm.)



The weeks pass by in a blur. 

She doesn’t even really notice that the last of those days has come and she’s flying back to National City in an hour or so. Between unveiling two initiatives and her nightly calls with Kara and Esme—sometimes Kara and Esme —Lena feels like she blinked twice and now she’s coming home.

Home is her penthouse, though she doesn’t stay very long. Just enough to roll her suitcase into her living room and freshen up, trading her suit for more comfortable clothes. Then she’s being driven to Alex and Kelly’s, telling George to drop her by the curb and that she’ll see him on Monday.

She comes with an armful of stuff she’s brought for everyone and a bag full of toys—all educational of course, and maybe, maybe Esme’s very own space suit—plus a few snacks and two bottles of wine Andrea has insisted they try.

There’s no need to ring the bell when she steps up to the front door. It cracks open before Lena can even reach the welcome mat, Esme spilling out of the doorway screaming Aunt Lena’s here at the top of her lungs. 

She runs towards her, tiny arms looping around Lena’s waist. On her heels is Kara, sauntering slower than Esme had. But her grin is just as big yet more soft and tender, as if the sight of Lena back is the only thing she could ever really ask the universe for.

(Like her world rights itself and she can finally breathe again.

Just like how Lena feels too.)

“Hey you.”

Two words and Lena feels something climb up to her throat—her heart, full and swelling tenfold—and she has to let the sound of Esme’s squeals wash over her. Lest the words she’s been fighting hard to hold back spill out of her mouth and onto the Olsen-Danvers’ porch.

She returns the smile in kind, but with quivering lips and a rasp in her own voice Lena hasn’t heard in a while. “Hey you.”

Below her, she feels the lightest press of Esme’s chin against her stomach as the little girl tilts her head to look up at Lena. But Lena can’t quite look away, not yet, captivated by the light that shines in Kara’s eyes.

Kara’s smile broadens when she glances down. Lena doesn’t really need to see it to know that she’s mirroring Esme’s, and it’s honestly a miracle she’s still able to keep her heart in its place.

Especially when she steps into Lena’s space, offering, “Let me help you with those.”

(But for a moment, her heart doesn’t sit still. It bangs and it pounds until the blood rushes to Lena’s ears; jumps straight into Kara’s and Esmes’ hands with pieces of her that she doesn’t think she’ll ever get back.)

Kara waits patiently, only taking another step closer at Lena’s nod. She sweeps her arms free of the things she’s brought with her, gifting her the chance to finally embrace her godchild back.

“Thanks,” Lena mouths, one arm promptly looping around Esme’s smaller form and the fingers of her free hand carding through bouncy curls. Kara just scrunches her nose in turn, takes two small steps backwards and away from Lena. 

But before she can even make to follow, something snaps taut, and then Kara’s leaning back in, hurtling right into Lena’s orbit, her lips brushing tenderly on a pale cheek.

(To the corner of Lena’s mouth even, Lena thinks—Lena thinks—)

“Missed you. Welcome back.”

(—she can’t.) 



“Me too, Aunt Lena!” Esme echoes, effectively snapping Lena back to attention. “I missed you a ton!”

Her brain kicks back up, but maybe five seconds too late, thus giving Kara a head start to begin her trek inside her sister’s house. She carries Lena’s things like it weighs nothing, while leaving Lena to her limbs that feel like she doesn’t own them anymore and she can only watch Kara walk away.

It takes Kara’s form disappearing inside the foyer for Lena to find the strength to finally look away. For her to manage to dip her head and tell the most precious tiny human being in her life that’s still pressed against her legs, “I missed you too.”

She untangles her fingers from Esme’s hair, tapping a shaky finger on the tip of Esme’s nose. “Were you good for your moms and Aunt Kara?”

Esme grins, wide and pure, her eyes sparkling the same way Kara’s do sometimes. “The bestest! Mommy read me stories and Mama built me more bird houses. Aunt Kara helped me paint! Aunt Nia and Uncle Brainy are going to help me take pictures later.”

Lena stoops lower to meet Esme’s eyes. She cups both hands on chubby cheeks, basking in the affection that wraps around her like a warm blanket on the cruelest winter night. “I’m glad to hear you had the best time.”

“It’ll be more bestest now Aunt Lena ‘coz you’re back,” Esme replies. Completely innocent and just plain happy that her godmother is no longer away. “And Aunt Kara won’t be sad anymore, Mama said.”

But it blows wind on Lena’s sails and pitches her to the eye of the storm anyway.



“Oh thank god,” Alex blurts out at the first sight of her, walking into the kitchen after she’s kissed both of Esme’s cheeks and the little girl runs to play with Kara. Lena doesn’t think it’s anything bad per se and that Alex is just probably being over dramatic—she’s reaching for her empty wine glass even—but she can’t quite deny the relief that rushes into Alex’s system either.

“Why Agent Danvers,” she teases, arching a brow at Alex. “Didn’t take you for the type to miss me.”

Alex snorts, rolling her eyes. The you wish that comes after is drowned under the sound of one of the bottles Lena has brought being popped open, and Lena’s amused chuckle is lost in the glug glug as Alex pours a helping for herself and another for Lena. “Kara hasn’t stopped giving everyone sad eyes since you left. I honestly thought you two were fighting again given how mopey she was.”

As if beckoned, Lena’s gaze drifts to the living room where Kara’s laughter rings along with Esme’s. She watches her float their niece in the air, both of them cross-legged and Lena just knows it’s them trying to imitate Aladdin’s magic carpet. That sight is enough to make her loosen her already barely-there grip on the lull she’s been living her life with, feeling the yearning rear its head once more.

She’s done so well in tamping it down ever since the wedding, but Lena’s fortitude is admittedly starting to wane and she’s beginning to run out of reasons why; reasons to cling to just friends. Because she honestly doesn’t have the faintest idea what they are anymore. They’re friends but then they’re not. Oftentimes more, and she doesn’t really think they will ever be as simple as that.

Because Kara’s her person. Not Lena’s be all and end all, but she’s her reason. For so many things and so many purposes that without her, Lena knows she will truly be lost.

Though before she can even make the decision to brave the tempest once and for all, Alex’s voice pulls her right back into safe shore. “Oh that is good. Where’d Andrea even get this?”

Lena goes quiet for a second, picking out a niggling thought at the back of her head amidst the others swirling in her mind. “Why did you think Kara and I were fighting?” She asks in lieu of answering Alex.

Alex hums, the lip of the wine glass still pressed against hers. She throws Lena a curious frown, swallowing the luxurious sip before speaking again. “Nothing. Just—I’ve only ever seen her that mopey that time you two stopped speaking to each other,” Alex explains with an easy shrug. “But at least now we know she’s not just gonna run to some imp and ask him to change the course of history, you know?”

Lena’s world grinds into a complete halt. “I’m sorry. What?”

“The Mxy tapes?” The other woman lobs back, her eyebrows drawing even closer. “That time Mxyzptlk came back and offered Kara a do-over?”

“D—do over for what?” Lena continues, voice straining from the lump the size of Esme’s fist suddenly seizing her throat.

“To fix your friendship?” Alex points out. Like it should be a known fact. Obvious. “She basically time hopped? Honestly, Lena.”

“You’re—you’re telling me,” she struggles to say, unable to comprehend why Kara—the woman who lost her entire planet and got stuck in a place where time was frozen—would pick fixing their friendship over getting her planet and her old life back. “She went back in time to try and fix our friendship?”

“Yeah,” Alex confirms. She pulls back slightly, perching a hip against the counter as she studies Lena; doesn’t really get why this seems like brand new information to her completely. “Different points even. How come you don’t—”

—unless, well, she really has absolutely no idea.

Alex’s eyes widen then. She bolts upright, throwing a haphazard glance at her sister’s direction. Kara’s still floating Esme around—on her back this time—and seems entirely oblivious to the conversation going on between her and Lena.

(To the storm inside Lena that now grows. It’s not violent in any way, but it’s a storm nonetheless, and Lena’s hold on it is quickly slipping.)

“She was offered a do-over and she—she picked fixing—why?”

Alex regards her for a moment, the stiffness in her form and the way her fingers ball into shaky fists. She softens at the clench of Lena’s jaw, the expression on her features conveying the truth—the you know why —that Lena can’t quite see right now.

Why, Alex?” Lena repeats.

But much to her exasperation, Alex merely drops her weight back against the counter, offering Lena a small smile. Full of understanding and some kind of secret that Lena has no idea what to make of. Even more so when Alex says, “I think it’s best you ask her that.”



She waits. For the sake of everyone, and so as to not make Kara feel like she’s being accosted, she waits.

Until J’onn leaves. Then Nia and Brainy. And after Kara hugs Esme goodbye and Lena leaves her godchild a tender kiss on her forehead after bidding her good night.

Until Kara’s flying her home and she’s warm and safe in Kara’s arms.

Kara lands on the balcony of Lena’s penthouse with a soft thud. She sets Lena down with the utmost care, guiding Lena inside with a gentle hand on the small of her back.

Lena makes it to three steps past her balcony’s door before she’s whipping around, catching Kara so off guard Kara nearly stumbles back in surprise.

But she’s able to catch herself without crashing into any of Lena’s many lavish things, though she’s staring at Lena with confusion in her wide-eyed gaze. “Lena? Are you—what’s wrong?”

“We said no more secrets,” Lena says instead of answering. It’s not accusing nor unkind, but it cuts still and wounds Kara, judging by the look that mars her face. “You promised.”

“I did,” Kara so, so easily agrees. Like it’s just a matter of fact. Akin to saying the sky is blue or that Lena’s her best friend. “And I’ve been keeping that promise.”

Something in Lena just snaps, makes her swat Kara’s hand away as Kara tries to reach for her even if the hurt that crosses Kara’s face hurts her too. Because Lena can’t understand why someone as wondrous as Kara—who’s still her own light even in her sadness—would pick someone like Lena over her very own planet.

It doesn’t make sense—is never going to make sense, so Lena says, “Why didn’t you ask Mxyzptlk to bring Krypton back?”

If Kara’s surprised, she doesn’t let it show. But it’s in the pause she takes, halting to heave a deep breath; written all over the way she slowly pulls her hands back and slides them both in the back pockets of her jeans. She looks away from Lena, training her gaze at the tall glass windows, and for a moment, Lena thinks she’ll never get the answer.

But she presses on anyway. Maybe to where it hurts. “Kara.”

Kara drags her eyes back, and this time—this time, when she looks at Lena, there’s nothing but conviction in there. As if she knows she’s made the right decision and no one can tell her otherwise. “Krypton didn’t have you.”

“Kara—”

“Lena,” Kara cuts off; now stands in front of Lena with every bit of herself that she is. Supergirl. Kara Zor-El. Kara Danvers. “You have to understand, I exist where you are.”

And just like how Alex towed her to shore, Kara pulls her right back in. And Lena—Lena just lets her. Even if it’s the most confounded yet the most peaceful she’s felt in a while. In the middle of a brewing storm where the wind is howling, but Lena feels perfectly safe because it’s where Kara is standing.

“So why would I ask for Krypton back if it means not being where you are?”

Kara’s eyes grow wet with unshed tears, her voice strained as her heart constricts. But her devotion to Lena shines through despite the pang that courses through her every time her planet that once was is brought up.

“If it means losing you?”

Lena finds that she doesn’t really have an answer to that; finds that the reasons she used to hold over her head to stop her from taking the leap are no longer there. 

So Lena lets go of the reins, in the form of the choked sob that breaks out of her throat; lets Kara catch her in her arms and draw the oh, Kara out of her lips, and three other words like hallelujah.

(Because Kara’s a god, and yet—and yet, it’s Lena who she reverently worships.)

(And god, Lena loves her just as much as she’s always had, right from the start.)